#4:03pm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pitlanepeach · 22 days ago

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Radio Silence | Chapter Thirty-Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, pregnancy, emetophobia warning, domestic fluff.

Notes — We're closing out the 2023 season!! Double update for the day!

2023 (Abu Dhabi)

The filming studio was chaos. Bright lights, Nerf guns, a beanbag chair someone had exploded accidentally, and Max F was in the corner trying to tape a foam sword back together.

Lando stood off to the side, hoodie hood up, sipping a smoothie and pretending to review a script while actually just taking a breather from the all-day mess.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He fished it out lazily, thumbed it open.

iMessage — 12:03pm

Amelia (Wifey 4 lifey)

My period is 3 weeks late.

—

He stared.

Then blinked. Read the words again.

And stood there frozen in the middle of the mess, smoothie halfway to his mouth.

“…What the f—”

“Bro, you good?” Aarav called from across the room, eyebrow raised.

Lando didn’t answer. He was busy rereading the message for a third time. Then a fourth. Slowly lowering the smoothie.

Missed period.

3 weeks.

Missed period for 3 weeks.

Period 3 weeks missed.

He let out a stunned, breathy laugh. “Oh fucking hell. Of course she’d just message me about it like it’s no big deal. Of course she did.”

The rest of the guys were still messing around in the background, arguing about whether they could build a kart ramp out of beanbags, and Lando just… walked backwards into a couch and sat down before his legs gave up on him.

Well, clearly she wasn’t freaking out. So that meant he wasn’t supposed to freak out. Cool. No problem. Cool, cool, super cool.

Except, he ran a hand through his hair. It was Amelia. If she was freaking out, she still probably wouldn’t say it. She’d just power through it all and not mention anything had even happened and then be like, “Oh yeah, by the way, our kid is three now.”

He shook his head.

iMessage — 12:05pm

Lando (Husband)

Ok. I’m not freaking out. Kind of want to throw up a bit tho. Love u x

He stared at the screen. Chewed the side of his thumb. Sent another.

Lando (Husband)

Did u like… pee on a stick yet????

Also should i come home. Or stay and keep filming the stupid cart bit. Idk what to do bby xxxx

Amelia (Wifey 4 lifey)

No, I have not peed on a stick. No, you do not need to come home. Finish filming. I will just see you when you come home x

—

He barely had time to process it before Max shouted, “Lando! You’re up!”

Lando slowly stood, still blinking, feeling kind of like he was buffering in real time.

“Mate, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Max added. “You alright, bro?”

Lando just looked at him, dazed. “No. I think I’m gonna be someone’s dad.”

Max’s eyes went fucking massive. “Woah, woah. Hold on. What—”

“Later. Can’t explain. Gotta pretend to joust on a kids scooter first.”

And off he went, hoodie flapping, brain somewhere over the Alps, while back in Monaco, his wife was casually engineering a race car and possibly incubating a human life like it was no big deal.

—

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip as she pulled up Pietra’s contact.

The screen blinked to life and there she was, chin propped on her hand, eating a bowl of cereal. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a lopsided bun, and she had one AirPod in, the other probably misplaced somewhere nearby. Her face lit up when she saw Amelia.

“Hello, gorgeous—wait, are you okay?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong? You look off.”

Amelia didn’t say hello. She just held up her phone so the camera framed her blank expression and said, deadpan, “I am having déjà vu.”

Pietra blinked. Then squinted harder. “Wait… about what?”

“This call.” She said. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Pietra blinked again, cereal halfway to her mouth. “Você tá brincando.”

“I would never joke about this kind of thing.” Amelia said.

“Meu Deus.” Pietra gasped, dropping her spoon into the bowl with a dramatic clatter. “How? I mean—well, how is obvious, but—how do you know?”

Amelia turned her phone around, flashed her calendar at the screen. One day highlighted in red. Three weeks past due. “Calendar told on me.”

Pietra’s eyebrows shot up. “Three weeks? Amelia!”

Amelia sighed. “I know. But I’ve been so preoccupied with Vegas prep, travel, lobby meltdowns.”

“Oh my god.” Pietra was practically whispering now. “But… how likely is it?”

“Very. We haven’t been, like, trying,” Amelia said, voice clipped, efficient. “But we also haven’t been not trying. No protection for the last… few months. Ish.”

Pietra dragged her hand down her face. “Ameliaaaa. You can’t just drop a possible baby on me while I’m eating cornflakes!”

“I can and did.” Amelia adjusted the camera so it faced the ceiling, then sat cross-legged on the couch, phone balanced on her chest. This was their usual routine. She could write strategy notes with Pietra on FaceTime, no problem. Sometimes Pietra filled the air with stories, or whatever drama was happening in one of her many group chats. Sometimes she was just quiet, scrolling TikTok beside her. It was easy. Safe.

“Have you taken a test yet?” Pietra asked, after a beat.

“No.” Amelia’s voice was flat. “I don’t want to look at a little window. The little window makes things real.”

Pietra groaned. “It’s the only way to know!”

“I don’t want to know yet,” Amelia pointed out.

“I don’t trust you not to emotionally suppress this entire event and pretend it never happened.”

“Unfortunately not possible with this,” Amelia returned.

Pietra reached for the cereal again, shaking her head. “Have you told Lando?”

“I texted him. He’s in London filming Quadrant stuff, obviously. He freaked out a bit but, like, he was fine I think.”

Pietra cackled. “What did you even say?”

Amelia lifted her phone and scrolled briefly. “‘My period is three weeks late.’”

“Oh my god,” Pietra said. “You’ve probably given him a heart attack.”

“I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“He’s probably already told my Max, then. Are you telling anyone else?”

“No,” Amelia said, immediately and firmly. “I haven’t even processed it yet. And it might not even be something to process. It’d be like… trying to run a live feed before the camera boots.”

“Got it.” Pietra nodded. “Just us, then.”

“Just us,” Amelia echoed. She returned her focus to the spreadsheet open on her laptop. Sector delta charts glowed on the screen, comfortingly quantifiable.

Pietra softened. “But like—how are you?”

“I’m fine.” Amelia blinked slowly, as if running an internal diagnostic. “Not panicked. Not excited. Just... fine. Although thinking about it, I have been feeling nauseous a lot more frequently lately. I just kept putting it down to nerves you know?”

“Yes, I know. It’s been a long few weeks.” Pietra agreed. Eventually, she asked, “So. Plan?”

Amelia shrugged. “Go to the bakery and the pharmacy. Buy a bunch of pastries and three pregnancy tests.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m waiting for Lando. I’m not testing until he’s back.”

Pietra smiled, biting back something fond. “Of course not.”

They hung up not long after.

Amelia finished annotating a slide for Oscar’s sector exits in medium-speed corners, then shut her laptop with a soft click. She stood, pulled on one of Lando’s oversized hoodies, and grabbed her bag.

As she stepped out into the sunshine, she ran through her mental checklist:

Bakery

Pharmacy

Groceries

Don’t forget oat milk

Do not freak out

Business as usual.

—

The pharmacy was quiet, the sort of quiet that made every footstep sound louder than it should. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, and faint French pop music played from an old radio behind the counter.

Amelia moved with purpose, hoodie sleeves pulled halfway over her hands, the corners of her to-do list folded neatly in her pocket. She headed straight for the aisle where the pregnancy tests were shelved, eyes flicking over the boxes clinically. Brands didn’t matter. She just picked three, different ones, out of mild uncertainty more than logic, and turned on her heel toward the checkout.

Behind the counter sat Madame Duval, a tiny, silver-haired woman with thick glasses, a warm smile, and a knit cardigan that didn’t match her blouse but somehow made her look even more maternal.

“Bonjour, Amelia,” she said, her voice like soft wool. “C’est bon de vous voir.”

Amelia blinked. “Hi.”

She placed the boxes down without flinching. Madame Duval looked down, eyebrows twitching faintly. Then she smiled again, smaller this time. “Ah. I see.”

Amelia didn’t say anything. Just offered a shrug and a half-nod. She wasn’t embarrassed, exactly. It just felt… complicated.

“Would you like a bag?” Madame Duval asked gently. “One that is not see-through?”

“Yes please.”

She packed the boxes neatly, moving with the patience of someone who had known Amelia since she had first moved to Monaco. The first time she had come in for antihistamines, she’d asked in English and apologised for not speaking very clear French. Madame Duval had tutted at her gently and waved it off — “You’re young. You learn.”

She hadn’t expected Amelia to remember all of their conversations. But Amelia did. Down to which shelf the chamomile tea had been on that one rainy day when she came in, red-eyed and overstimulated, asking for something that “made bodies quiet.”

Now, only a couple of years later, the girl she’d watched grow into a woman, all sharp focus and clinical precision, stood with three pregnancy tests in her hand and a face like a still pond. Flat on the surface. Rippling just underneath.

Madame Duval placed a single wrapped chocolate on top of the box in the bag. The fancy kind they kept near the till. “For after. Whatever the result.”

Amelia blinked. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t argue,” Madame Duval said simply. “I know you very well, Amelia. You will enjoy your sweet treat.”

She accepted the bag and nodded, a single sharp dip of her head. “Merci.”

Madame Duval smiled again, knowing, warm. “Bonne chance, ma fille.”

Amelia didn’t translate the words in her head. She didn’t need to. They sank into her like the warmth of a blanket after a cold morning walk.

She left the pharmacy with the bag looped tightly around her wrist and walked the short distance back up the hill toward the apartment. The sea was visible between buildings, a thin slice of blue horizon. Everything smelled faintly of croissants and sunshine and exhaust fumes.

She checked her mental list:

Got the tests.

Got the pastries.

Got the groceries.

Back home, she set the bag down on the kitchen counter and grabbed her laptop.

The tests could wait until Lando was back.

For now, it was just another variable. Logged.

Pending analysis.

—

The door clicked softly behind Lando as he stepped into their Monaco apartment, duffle bag forgotten somewhere between the entrance and the bedroom.

The light was low, just the soft stretch of sunrise brushing over the walls, and Amelia was curled up on their bed in one of his hoodies, half-asleep, laptop still warm next to her leg.

She opened one eye when he crouched beside her. “Hi,” she murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

He didn’t answer right away. Just tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and held up a small paper bag like he’d just won a prize. “Get up, baby,” he said, gently.

Amelia blinked. “Seriously?”

He kissed her temple. “Come on. I need to know if my wife is growing a person.”

She groaned, dragging her hand over her face — but didn’t argue. Not really. She let him pull her upright with a sleepy grumble, let him tug her by the hand toward the bathroom, let him press the test into her hand.

They paused there for a second. Fingers brushing. Her gaze flicked up to meet his.

“You okay?” He asked, voice low now, a little more cautious.

“I’m fine,” she said. Then, with a characteristic deadpan mutter, “I’m tired.”

Lando gave her that crooked little grin, the one that always cracked something open in her. “Right. Go pee on it.”

She rolled her eyes and shut the door.

He sat cross-legged outside, back against the wall. Same way he had the first time she’d let him into her quieter corners; back when they were barely even dating and she couldn’t handle knocks on doors, loud voices, or sudden touches. Back when he learned to ask first and sit with her in the silence.

He waited now, quiet, patient, fingers tapping his knee.

The door creaked open.

She didn’t speak at first. Just stood there holding the test, staring at it.

Lando scrambled to his feet. “Amelia?”

She looked up at him. “It’s positive,” she said, voice soft. Like she wasn’t sure the words could be able to come out of her mouth properly.

Silence fell between them — not tense, not panicked. Just heavy.

She looked back down at the test. Then back at him. Her expression was unreadable for a second, and then… it cracked. Not big. Not loud. Just a subtle unraveling. A tremble in her mouth. Her eyes too bright, but dry.

“I thought I’d feel more in control,” she said quietly. “Like it would just slot into the system. Checklist. Contingency. Risk management.” She held up the test, eyes never leaving it. “But it’s not like that. It’s not a flowchart. It’s not a decision tree. It’s just… me. And you. And this. And I can’t logic my way through it.”

Lando took a slow step forward, voice hushed. “Is it a bad feeling?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It’s just… big.”

And then it happened — not a meltdown, not a scene, just her body folding into his with no warning. A silent collapse.

Hands clinging to the front of his hoodie, face buried against his chest, a single shuddering breath breaking out of her like she’d been holding it in for hours. No sobbing. No hysteria. Just quiet overwhelm — the kind that sneaks up and knocks the wind out of you.

Lando wrapped his arms around her instantly, no hesitation.

“Whoa, hey,” he murmured, steady as ever, his hand in her hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, love. You’re okay. We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”

She didn’t answer, just breathed — deep and shaky. Her fingers still clutched the test like a lifeline. Her knuckles were white.

“I’m scared,” she said after a long pause. The words were barely there. “What if I mess it up? What if I do something wrong? What if I’m not good enough to do this?”

Lando pulled back, just enough to look at her. His hands stayed on her waist, grounding her. “Hey,” he said gently, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Don’t do that. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

Her eyes flicked away. “I’m not soft. I’m not warm. I don’t… glow. I forget social niceties, I spiral over things like flight plans and tyre temps and socks that don’t feel right. That’s not the kind of person who’s supposed to—” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I’m made for this.”

“Baby. You’re made for anything,” he said, firm now. “You’re made for me. And if our baby ends up anything like you, blunt, brilliant, weird in the best possible way, they’re going to be so lucky. And so am I.”

She let out a sound that was halfway between a breath and a laugh. Her shoulders sagged just a little. “We don’t even know if I’m actually pregnant yet,” she muttered.

He glanced down at the test still in her hand. “Kinda looks like we do.”

Another breath.

She let him take the test and set it gently on the counter, his touch reverent, like it was something fragile and sacred. Then, without a word, he slid his hand into hers and led her back into the bedroom.

She didn’t resist. Didn’t speak. Just let herself be tugged along like driftwood in a current.

Lando climbed into bed first and pulled her down with him, settling them in the tangle of covers she’d only half-kicked off earlier. His arms came around her automatically, looping over her waist and up across her back. He tucked her in close, chin resting against the top of her head, one leg hooked loosely over hers.

Wrapped around her like a blanket. Safe. Heavy in the best way.

They lay like that for a long time. Breathing in sync. No words needed.

Eventually, Amelia spoke. Her voice was quiet — raw around the edges, like she'd surprised even herself with the crack earlier. “I didn’t think I’d cry,” she murmured.

Lando smiled, lips brushing her temple. “I’m glad you did.”

She blinked against his hoodie. “Why?”

He huffed a soft laugh, barely more than a breath. “Because it made it less pathetic that I was crying for a second too.”

Her head tipped back just enough to look up at him. “You were crying?”

“Only a little bit,” he said, mock-defensive. “Like, blinked-a-lot-and-hoped-you-wouldn’t-notice crying. I’m British. I’m subtle.”

“You’re not subtle,” she said flatly.

“No,” he agreed, grin tugging at his mouth. “But I am dramatic, and I’ve been alone for two days imagining every possible outcome and Googling ‘is surprise pregnancy good news if you’re in love and mostly financially stable.’”

Amelia blinked slowly. “You Googled that exact phrase?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. A small, involuntary noise that made his heart squeeze. “What did it say?”

“That the internet is deeply unhelpful,” he said. “And Reddit is a lawless place.”

There was another long pause.

Then she whispered, “I was scared it wouldn’t feel real. That I’d just… log it as data and move on. Like it was just another variable.”

Lando tightened his arms around her. “But it does feel real?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “The second I said it out loud.”

He kissed her forehead. “Good. I don’t think I could’ve handled being more emotional than you about this.”

“You’re always more emotional than me.”

“True. I tried at Bake Off the other day.”

“I know,” she said, and even through the haze of anxiety and confusion and quiet overwhelm, she smiled. “That’s why I married you.”

Lando rested his cheek against her hair, and for a few long seconds, the world outside the blanket of their bed ceased to exist.

“Should we sleep a bit more?” She asked eventually, already halfway there.

He nodded against her. “Yeah. Big day of parenting ahead. Gotta start practicing how to Google more useful things.”

She hummed. “Start with ‘how to tell if your wife is actually going to let herself feel things this time.’”

Lando squeezed her a little tighter. “Already figured it out. Just gotta love her loud enough that she forgets to be afraid.”

She didn’t respond.

But she didn’t pull away either.

—

The clinic’s sliding door whispered closed behind them as Amelia and Lando stepped into the small, clinical room. The nurse smiled warmly, gesturing toward the chair.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” she said, setting out the necessary equipment.

Amelia sat down slowly, her fingers lacing in her lap. Lando stood quietly by her side, watching her with closeness.

“You doing alright, baby?” He asked quietly, voice low enough only for her.

She shrugged, eyes steady. “As alright as I can be.”

Lando reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She held on tight.

The nurse prepped the needle, talking her through it as she did. Amelia kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her jaw clenched just enough to show her focus.

When the needle slid in, Lando’s hand moved up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“There,” he whispered. “Done.”

Amelia exhaled, releasing some of the tension she hadn’t even realised she was holding.

—

Amelia and Lando sat quietly in the small waiting area just outside the testing rooms, the sterile white walls feeling colder than usual. Amelia scrolled absently through her phone while Lando rested his arm around her shoulders, both wrapped in a low hum of nervous energy.

The nurse appeared after what felt like an eternity but was realistically just under an hour. She held a folder in her hand, her expression calm and professional. “Amelia Norris?” She called.

Amelia stood immediately, Lando rising just a half-step behind her, his hand brushing lightly against the small of her back in quiet support.

The nurse, a kind-looking woman in her fifties with kind eyes and soft lines around her mouth, smiled gently as she approached, holding a slim folder in her hands. “Amelia, Lando,” She said warmly. “Your blood test results are back.”

Amelia held herself very still, as if bracing for impact.

The nurse opened the folder and glanced down. “Everything looks healthy, and we did manage to confirm your pregnancy, Amelia.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. Amelia’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes fixed on the nurse but unfocused, as though the words had landed somewhere just behind her.

She blinked once. Twice. “Okay,” she said softly. Just one word, but it sounded like it had taken effort to get it out.

Lando, ever the contrast, let out a breathy laugh; short, quiet, almost disbelieving, and slid his arm around her waist. He gave her a gentle squeeze, grounding them both. “Well,” he murmured, leaning in close, “that’s the official verdict then.”

She didn’t answer right away, just nodded, lips pressing into a line. Her fingers twitched at her side, stimming without even thinking.

The nurse, unfazed by the silence, handed Amelia a printout of the blood-work results. “Everything looks perfectly normal for where you’re at. If you have questions or want to talk about next steps, you’re always welcome to call. We’ll book your first ultrasound soon.”

Amelia’s eyes scanned the paper, already filtering the information into categories in her head — normal levels, nothing flagged, timeline confirmed. Just data. But even with all the logic in the world, she felt the subtle shift in the air. It was real now.

“I can fly to Abu Dhabi?” She asked, sharp and direct.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, you can. You’re still very early. Travel is fine, just make sure you stay hydrated and try to keep your stress levels to a minimum.”

Amelia scoffed out a single breath. “Right. Sure.”

Lando gave the nurse an apologetic smile, stepping in smoothly. “We’ll make sure of it. Water, snacks, earplugs, noise-cancelling headphones, the works.”

The nurse’s smile deepened. “Good man. Just listen to your body, Amelia. That’ll be the trickiest part for you, I think.”

Amelia met her gaze, brows furrowed. “Why? Because I’m autistic?”

“Because you’re used to ignoring and pushing aside your discomfort,” the nurse said kindly. “But yes, that too.”

Amelia blinked, visibly filing that away.

The nurse handed her a card. “Call and make your next appointment as soon as you’re back. That’ll be for your first scan — around gestation week seven. You can ask for me by name if you’d like.”

Amelia took the card, examined the name — “Colette” — and gave the barest nod of approval. “Okay. I will.”

Colette gave them both a final smile. “Take care of each other. And congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Lando said quietly, while Amelia murmured something that might’ve been a “you too” out of sheer social obligation.

As they stepped out of the clinic and into the soft Monaco sunlight, Lando reached over and laced their fingers together. Amelia let him. Didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Just walked beside him, her expression unreadable — but her grip on his hand was firm.

He glanced at her as they waited for the elevator. “So.”

She glanced up.

“You’re gonna have to let me look at that report later,” he said. “Just to double-check you’re not secretly growing twins or something.”

Amelia huffed. “I’d know if I were.”

He grinned. “Sure you would.”

—

The private jet hummed softly beneath them, the kind of quiet that came with luxury and familiarity. Amelia had curled up beside the window, iPad balanced on her lap, headphones hanging loosely around her neck. Next to her, Lando was dozing — hoodie pulled up, mouth slightly open, dead to the world.

Across the aisle, Max sat with a protein bar and a very serious frown as he scrolled through Instagram. For all the years they’d known each other, Amelia had rarely seen him sit still this long.

She, however, was very much not still.

Her finger tapped quickly across her iPad screen, eyes scanning an article titled “What To Expect in Your First Trimester.” She had three tabs open; one medical, one forum-based, and one purely dedicated to nutrition. Her nose wrinkled as she read the phrase “morning sickness may begin as early as week six.” She was almost six weeks, according to the timeline Colette had scribbled down.

“Oh, screw that,” she muttered under her breath.

Max leaned slightly toward the aisle and blinked at her screen. “What’re you reading?”

Amelia startled slightly and tilted the iPad instinctively away from him. “Nothing.”

Max tilted his head. “No, I definitely saw the word ‘placenta’ just now.”

Amelia pursed her lips. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

He blinked. Then his eyes went wide. “You’re pregnant.”

“What? No. Don’t be absurd.” Amelia spluttered.

“Your ears are red!” Max pointed out.

“Lots of people have red ears,” she lied boldly.

“Name two people.”

“Um.” She looked around desperately. “Um.”

Max raised a brow.

“Okay, whatever, fine.” She sighed.

He choked on his protein bar, coughing into his sleeve. “So you are pregnant.”

Amelia groaned, setting the iPad facedown on her lap. “You can’t know! I’m not even supposed to know, I don’t think. Google says no one is allowed to know until the second trimester.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know!” She whispered-shouted, flinging her hands up in frustration. “Apparently there's this whole unwritten rule that you’re meant to keep it secret until like week twelve in case things go wrong but also I can’t stop Googling everything because what the hell is a mucus plug and why is it in my body?”

Max looked vaguely alarmed. “Oh, god. That sounds disgusting.”

“Exactly!”

Lando stirred at the noise, cracked one eye open, and muttered, “Did you tell Max?”

“No,” Amelia said at the exact same time Max said, “Absolutely.”

Lando sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, clearly too tired to argue.

Amelia shifted slightly in her seat, frowning. “Is it weird I don’t feel different yet? Like I thought I’d… know. That there’d be this, I don’t know, gut feeling. Like how I know when it’s going to rain or when Oscar’s about to spin out of a corner.”

Max softened a bit, leaning over the aisle. “Everyone’s different, I think.”

“Yeah, but I already feel behind.” She nudged her iPad back into her lap. “There are apps and charts and... symbiotic uterine developments. It’s like a project I didn’t plan for. And you know how I feel about unplanned variables.”

Lando reached over sleepily and squeezed her hand. “You’re doing fine.”

Max nodded. “Plus, your kid’s gonna have, like, the two most ridiculous godparents in the paddock.”

She blinked at him. “I never said anything about godparents.”

“You will.”

“I might not.”

“You will.”

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her mouth.

Then, after a pause, she muttered, “The mucus plug thing is still on my mind.”

Max gagged theatrically, Lando groaned, and Amelia opened another article, determined to understand the entire gestational timeline before they landed.

—

The Abu Dhabi sun was already unbearable by the time they stepped onto the tarmac, the heat pressing down like a hand on the back of her neck. Amelia barely blinked at it. She was too busy focusing on not gagging.

It wasn’t morning sickness. It wasn’t anything that dramatic. There’d been no dramatic sprint to a toilet. Just this constant, low-level nausea that clung to her throat like the aftermath of turbulence. Cloying. Lingering. Like the scent of someone else’s perfume in a closed room.

She clutched her water bottle a little tighter as they walked toward the paddock entrance, sunglasses on, headphones around her neck, McLaren lanyard tucked into the front of her shirt. She wasn’t on duty yet — they were just arriving — but already, her brain was buzzing with briefings and timing windows and tyre strategy for FP1.

Lando walked beside her, one hand on the small of her back, close but casual. He wasn’t smothering her, he never did, but his body was attuned to her like a second radar system. When she slowed for a moment, swallowing hard, he adjusted his pace instantly.

“Still feeling off?” He murmured, quiet so no one around them would hear.

She nodded once, not breaking stride. “Feels like... I’ve had warm milk out of a shoe.”

“That’s a disgusting analogy.” He said, nose twitching.

“I feel disgusting.” She moaned.

Lando gave a small, sympathetic laugh and handed her a peppermint from the stash he’d brought specifically for this. “Want to skip the garage for now? Go to hospitality. Sit down.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, bluntly. “We land, we go to the garage. That’s the routine.”

He didn’t argue, not really. He just looked at her for a beat longer than usual and nodded. “Okay.”

Max had peeled off earlier, some Red Bull meeting already dragging him into another PR vortex, so it was just the two of them when they reached the McLaren motorhome. Amelia paused for a moment outside the hospitality entrance, letting the air-conditioned breeze spill over her as the door opened and closed in waves.

She stared forward, expression flat.

Then, without looking at him, she muttered, “If I throw up in front of Oscar, I’ll lie and say it’s food poisoning.”

Lando grinned. “You’d lie to Oscar?”

“I lie to Oscar all the time. I tell him the car has good rear grip when I know it doesn’t. I tell him his haircut’s not weird.”

“He knows it’s weird.”

“Then I’m not doing my job properly.”

He kissed the side of her head and ushered her inside.

The nausea didn’t leave; it didn’t even lessen. But she filed it away somewhere behind tyre allocation updates and garage temperature readings. Pushed it back. Compartmentalised.

She had a job to do.

Even if her body, her whole world, had quietly started to change.

—

The garage was its usual symphony of motion, tyre blankets, torque wrenches, low chatter on radios. Amelia stood just behind Oscar’s car, one hand resting on the side-pod, her iPad in the other, watching the data scroll. Her other hand was shoved in her pocket, fingers twisting the small piece of fabric — an old tag from one of Lando’s fireproof undershirts. Grounding. Textural. Familiar.

Oscar was climbing out of the cockpit, unzipping his suit halfway and tugging off his gloves. “How’s it looking?” He asked, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Like you are still lifting off too early into Turn 14,” Amelia replied, not looking up.

Oscar squinted at her. “Nice to see you too.”

She handed him the tablet. “Look at the overlays. You’re lifting fractionally earlier than yesterday.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“That’s the thing about data,” she said flatly. “It doesn’t care how you feel.”

Oscar made a face but didn’t argue. He took the tablet and perched on the edge of the front wing as he scrolled. Amelia leaned on the pit gantry behind him, eyes tracking the mechanics, her brain juggling three different timelines.

Tyre test. Race sim. Media obligations.

And nausea. Always the nausea. A thin layer of wrongness settled at the base of her throat.

“You look pale,” Oscar said suddenly.

She flicked her eyes up. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. You good?”

“I’m always good.”

He gave her a suspicious side-eye. “You’ve said that to me before. Usually when you’ve gone two days without sleep.”

She took the iPad back from him. “I’m eating. I’ve slept. I’m hydrated. I’ve had breakfast. What more do you want?”

“Some forgiveness if I don’t get the lift right on the next run?”

Amelia’s lip twitched, barely. “Not happening.”

Oscar didn’t push, but he watched her as she turned back toward the screens. She knew it. Felt his gaze linger.

But she didn’t offer anything more. Not yet. Not when the garage was full of people, and cameras, and microphones always somewhere nearby.

She just reached for her earpiece, shoved it into place, and keyed into the radio with a sharp, clean voice. “Oscar’s ready for the next run. Let’s do race trim, full fuel, softs.”

The engineer on the other end acknowledged her. The crew got moving.

And the nausea, ever present, curled a little tighter in her gut.

Still. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t step back.

Amelia Norris stayed exactly where she was — sharp, unfazed, in control.

—

The air conditioning hummed steadily overhead, and Amelia sat cross-legged in one of the lower chairs, stylus tapping as Oscar muttered something about corner exit balance. She wasn’t entirely listening. Or rather — she was, but her body was staging a full-scale rebellion against her.

The nausea had been background static all day, but now it was cresting into a full wave. Her fingers tightened slightly around the stylus. She blinked twice, tried breathing through her nose. No improvement.

She could hear Lando in the corner, chatting with one of the engineers, blissfully unaware that his wife was currently sweating through her team polo in slow motion.

Oscar nudged her shin with the toe of his socked foot. “You’re quiet. Am I saying something stupid?”

Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but—

Her stomach twisted violently. She slapped the tablet onto the low table and stood up in one movement, but it was too fast, too late.

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide.

And then she doubled over and vomited squarely into the only available container-like object at ground level.

Oscar’s race boots.

The room fell silent.

Oscar blinked once. Then looked down. Then back up at her.

“Well,” he said, with a perfectly dry inflection. “That’s one way to critique my driving.”

Amelia groaned, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m so sorry,” she managed, breathless. “I— I tried to make it.”

Lando was already at her side, hand on her back, concern etching itself into his features. “Jesus, baby—are you okay? You need to sit down?”

Oscar, meanwhile, remained seated, staring down at the shoes like they might attack him. “Those were custom-moulded.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said weakly, dropping back into the chair. “They’re custom-moulded to hold the exact volume of my stomach contents, apparently.”

“I’m never putting my foot in those again.”

“I’ll get you new ones.”

“You’ll buy me a new digestive system, because I’m never forgetting this.” He frowned.

Amelia finally laughed; a little breathy, a little unhinged. “I hate this,” she muttered, head in her hands.

Lando crouched in front of her, gently brushing her hair back from her face. “You’ve done three days of data crunching and garage shifts while apparently fighting the urge to puke in various footwear,” he said quietly. “Come on, let’s go clean you up.”

Oscar stood up finally, crossing to the corner where someone had mercifully placed paper towels and a bin bag. “Can we agree to never tell anyone about this.”

“Yes,” Amelia agreed.

Lando snorted. “Too late. I already texted Max.”

“You what—?”

“I’m kidding,” he grinned. “But I’m tempted. He’d find this absolutely hilarious.”

—

Amelia was curled up on the end of a low sofa, sipping flat Sprite from a paper cup. The AC was finally hitting just right, and she'd gotten through the rest of the afternoon without projectile vomiting on any more personal items. Progress.

Oscar wandered in, a granola bar half-unwrapped in one hand, still in his race suit tied off at the waist.

He flopped into the chair opposite her, stretched his legs out, and with no preamble at all, said, “Happy pregnancy, by the way.”

Amelia blinked. “Oh,” she said flatly. “So it’s obvious, then.”

Oscar shrugged. “To me? Yeah. You’ve been chewing your pen caps like you’re trying to murder them, you haven’t had coffee in three days, and you were sick in my race boots, so.”

She tilted her head. “That’s a lot of observation for someone who thinks toothpaste is spicy.”

He laughed. “I’m very detail-oriented. And still peeved about my boots.”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, far too magnanimous. “They were hideous anyway.” There was a pause. Then he added, “Honestly, everyone else just assumed it was heat stroke.”

Amelia lifted a brow. “And you didn’t?”

“Nope.” He took a bite of the granola bar. “You go green when you have heat stroke. You went green this time, so I knew it was different.”

She barked a short laugh. “That’s horrifying.”

“And accurate,” he said, chewing. “So… Lando knows, obviously?”

“Yeah. He made me pee on a stick at six in the morning. Then I had to go and get blood drawn to confirm it.”

Oscar winced. “Disgusting. Anyway—congrats, I guess.”

“Thanks. And sorry again about the shoes.”

Oscar leaned back in the chair, arms behind his head like he hadn’t been personally victimised. “Eh. If the kid turns out to be a world champion, I’ll tell this story in the Netflix documentary.”

“Can’t wait,” she deadpanned.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, with a smirk that was all mischief and no sympathy, Oscar added, “Next time, at least aim for Lando’s sneakers. His fans would pay for them.”

Amelia snorted into her Sprite. “God, you’re vile.”

“I know. And yet you can’t get rid of me,” he said, and stood up, already texting someone; probably Lando.

She groaned again. Loudly.

—

The Yas Marina Circuit always felt like the end of something.

By the time the sun dipped beneath the glowing skyline and the lights snapped on around the track, the paddock was buzzing with the familiar edge of finality. Mechanics moved with that distinct rhythm—half instinct, half exhaustion. Cameras flashed. Engines roared. And on the McLaren pit wall, Amelia sat completely still, headset pressed tight, her eyes fixed on Oscar’s live telemetry.

No one would’ve known she was pregnant. No one would’ve guessed she’d thrown up in her colleague’s race boots less than 24 hours earlier. No one would’ve known that she’d spent the flight to Abu Dhabi Googling “why does pregnancy make you feel like your body is a hostile foreign nation” or that she’d quietly rested her head on Lando’s shoulder for the last twenty minutes of final practice, just to stay upright.

But now? Now she was fine. More than fine. Because when it came to the race, Oscar’s race, she was always prepared to lock in.

Oscar had qualified well. Not perfect, but decent. Enough to put him in the fight.

Lando, meanwhile, had his own race to run, starting P5. Amelia didn’t let herself think about his car in the first ten laps. She’d gotten very good at compartmentalising again. Still, every now and then, she could feel his presence, could hear his voice from earlier:

“One more race. Then we get a break. Then we breathe.”

God, how she wanted to breathe.

The race itself was tense. Ferrari and Mercedes were locked in their Constructors’ battle, chaos unfolding all across the midfield. Amelia kept her voice calm on Oscar’s radio.

“Strat 7, we’re going to offset slightly from Gasly ahead.”

“Understood.”

“Clean exit turn 3. Good traction now. Let’s build.”

He listened. He always listened.

Mid-race, Oscar made an aggressive but beautifully timed overtake, and Amelia let herself smile—just a little.

Lando, a few positions ahead, was holding ground. Quietly, steadily. Nothing dramatic. Amelia could handle steady. Steady felt manageable.

The final laps bled together like watercolour under pressure. Amelia felt her stomach twist, nausea creeping up again. She ignored it. She had work to do.

In the end?

Oscar crossed the line P6.

Lando, P4.

Respectable. Solid. A good end to a hard-fought season.

When Oscar pulled in and killed the engine, Amelia finally took a long breath and peeled off her headset. Her hands were trembling. Whether it was adrenaline, hormones, or just sheer relief, she couldn’t tell.

Lando found her on the pit wall not long after, hair sweaty, fireproofs unzipped halfway.

“Hey,” he said, brushing her shoulder lightly. “You okay?”

She looked at him for a long moment, the smile tugging at her lips slow and almost reluctant.

“I am now.”

He grinned. “We did it.”

She snorted. “You did it. I just puked in Oscar’s boots and managed his brake maps.”

Lando bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You did both with tremendous style.”

Somewhere nearby, champagne exploded. But for Amelia, the noise faded into the background. The season was over. They were having a baby. They’d finished best of the rest.

And the MCL38-AN was going to be an absolute masterpiece.

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copperbadge · 21 days ago

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Light Cues

From the "find what works" department of my life...

I was telling my prescribing psychiatrist about this and he really loved it, and it occurred to me I'm not sure I've ever talked about it on here, but I've started using light cues instead of alarms for some things.

I don't use a lot of alarms regularly throughout the day (I don't need one to wake up unless I'm getting up at an unusual time, for example) but I use them for one-off stuff like "time to start getting ready to go out" or "today you have a doctor's appointment". I found after a while that with an alarm for a regular repeating task, there comes a point where I just silence it and forget to do the thing. Like, I have almost all notifications on my phone turned off and it's still muscle memory for me, as it is for many people, to have my phone beep for attention and just silence it unthinkingly. So I started using lighting cues.

It's evolved a lot, starting with the end of the workday. The lighting in my bedroom is all floor lamps; the one over my work desk is on a smart switch, which plugs into the wall and then the lamp plugs into the switch. I set the switch to turn the lamp on at 8am just before I start work, and off at 4:30pm to remind me to stop work, which I don't always remember to do. The light suddenly going out makes that corner unpleasantly dim, and it's more work to turn it back on (open phone, open app, find the right switch) than it is to stop work for the day.

Then I thought, this is so irritating it must be useful for other things. So I set it to go off from noon to 12:03pm. It's more of a pain in the ass to turn it back on than it is to get up, go to the kitchen, and do what I'm supposed to do at noon anyway: take my second Adderall dose. And the light is back on by the time I get back.

But I was running into the problem of taking the dose on an empty stomach as you're supposed to, but not having eaten since breakfast at like 5am. And now I'm in the kitchen. Having forgotten to eat my Early Lunch at 10:30. But the Adderall needs like 20 minutes to kick in before I eat, and by then I'm back at work, and then I wonder why I eat my body weight in pasta at 5pm.

So I set a light cue for 10:30 to remind me to take a break and eat. But I don't want to use the same cue for everything. The lamp on the other end of the bedroom doesn't have a smart switch but it does have a smart bulb, which is even more flexible, so at 10:30am it dims to 50% (irritating) and turns deep blue (doubly irritating). I leave the room, go eat lunch, and usually come back to sit on the bed with the cats for a few minutes. I don't mind the dim blue light when I'm on the bed -- I just can't work with it that way. So at 11 the light goes back to full white brightness and I get my cue to go back to work.

I have various other cues -- the living room lamps go off and the LED string on the headboard in the bedroom goes on low and red to indicate it's bedtime, and the LEDs go off a little later to remind me NO, it is BEDTIME NOW.

Obviously a lot of this is only possible with either analog daily timers or smart bulbs/switches, and those can be cost-prohibitive for some while others don't like having their lighting on the internet. But it's all switches and bulbs that I can remove easily, and they've come down a great deal in price -- mine are all Kasa brand so they're controlled from a single app, and I've found them extremely helpful.

Plus sometimes at night I put all the lights to deep blue and pretend I'm underwater and that's fun.

#adhd #sam has adhd #neurodivergent life hacks #hahah its a LIGHT HACK

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dakusan · 29 days ago

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How skz texts you when you're upset

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, emotional support, quiet love, soft boys with warm hearts

🌙 synopsis: you're not alone. not ever. eight boys, eight different ways of showing up when the world feels too loud. some send you memes. some send you playlists. some just send a quiet “i’m here.” when you're unraveling at the seams, they don't ask you to hold it together. they hold you instead—in texts, in voice notes, in the silence between words. this isn't about fixing you. it's about loving you exactly as you are—soft, sad, and still worth everything.

💌 a/n: hi hello yes. i promise i have a job (whilst looking for a new one) but i am also a girl with free time and nothing to do, so i write for you people. plus, i just think everyone deserves to be comforted like this, okay?? anyway. if you’ve had a hard day, I hope this felt like a warm hoodie straight from the dryer. or like… a text that says “u up?” but emotionally stable. as always, thank you for reading my little delusions 💗 p.s. i know it’s a short one but like... short and sweet, right?? i hope it’s sweet??? idk anymore 😭 p.p.s. YES I KNOW MY PIC AESTHETICS ARE WEIRD AND DON’T MATCH OR WHATEVER I’M TRYING… I SEE THE VISION IN MY HEAD OKAY THE EXECUTION JUST BE SUFFERING. leave me alone. smh. p.p.p.s no, i haven't made any songs to match this vibe. lmfao, soz •ᴖ•

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

🎶 Now Playing: "Star Lost" — Stray Kids

Bang Chan // 방찬 the gentle leader energy

[3:14PM] Hey, angel. I know today’s rough. I won’t push, but I’m here. Want to hop on call? We can sit in silence or talk, your pace. [3:17PM] You’re not alone in this. I promise. (You wake up to a Lo-fi playlist he made just for you, titled: ��for when your heart’s tired”)

Lee Know // 리노 silent acts of care

[4:52PM] What do you need? Be honest. [4:54PM] I can cook. Or just sit with you. Or send you mean messages about the universe. [5:01PM] Here. Cat pics. Instant serotonin. (He drops off warm food at your door with a post-it: “Eat. Or I’ll be annoyed. 😒”)

Changbin // 창빈 aggressively loving

[5:03PM] WHO. UPSET. YOU. [5:04PM] I will fight them. Emotionally. And maybe physically. 👊 [5:07PM] Also… I’m proud of you. For just… being you. (He sends voice notes of him beatboxing silly rhythms with your name mixed in. Pure serotonin.)

Hyunjin // 현진 the poetic soft boy

[2:27PM] It’s okay to crumble sometimes. Even stars need to rest. [2:29PM] You are still whole, even when you don’t feel it. [2:34PM] Do you want a drawing? Or a distraction? I can write you a silly haiku. (You receive a photo of a messy sketchbook page with your initials in soft florals.)

Han // 한 chaotic comfort personified

[3:59PM] I see you’re feeling like 🍞 soggy bread. [4:00PM] BUT GUESS WHAT. YOU’RE MY FAVOURITE TOAST. [4:02PM] I’m gonna spam you with memes until you smile or block me. (He sends 17 voice memos. One is a fake commercial for “Anti-Sadness Spray,” voiced by him in 4 accents.)

Felix // 필릭스 human sunshine, through and through

[1:36PM] Hey, beautiful. I felt something was off today… Do you want hugs, words, or just my presence? [1:40PM] You deserve kindness even when your mind says otherwise. (You get a video of him baking cookies, captioned: “Saving one for you, always.”)

Seungmin // 승민 realist with a warm heart

[6:18PM] I know you think you’re being dramatic. You’re not. [6:21PM] Want comfort or tough love? [6:25PM] You’re handling more than most would. Let yourself feel it. (He sends a carefully curated playlist titled: “not okay, but surviving.”)

I.n // 아이엔 the shy but intuitive one

[5:40PM] Hey… are you okay? You don’t have to answer. Just wanted you to know I care. [5:46PM] Do you want to watch something later? I’ll even pretend not to hate romcoms. [5:49PM] You matter to me. Just… wanted to say that. (You later find out he stayed up playing your comfort game just to send you tips.)

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #sundaysoftdrops

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currrentfixations · 17 days ago

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the cut that always bleeds 2 — park hu-min

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x gotaksister!reader

genre: just fluff tbh, they deserved a happy ending.

word count: 2,115 words

note: friendship?? they love each other, your honour. also thank you so much for all the love on my first fic it means a lot 😭🫶, hope you guys enjoy this one as well!

part 1

you were woken from your slumber by your phone buzzing next to you.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ flashing on your phone screen, before the screen went black again.

you had fallen asleep slumped against the door. your eyes swollen from crying, and your body stiff and sore from the rigid position it had been frozen in for the last couple hours. slowly getting up, you reached for your phone.

your head was throbbing, like someone had struck it with a hammer. tapping your phone, you checked the time. 11pm — you had been out for almost 2 hours. under the time, you noticed all notifications you had missed.

4 missed calls from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 1 voicemail from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 6 messages from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 2 messages from seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️

nothing from hu-min. you never deleted his number. the last time you messaged him was the day of hyun-tak's accident, wondering if he'd seen or heard from hyun-tak. he never replied.

pushing the thoughts about hu-min aside, you opened up jun-tae's messages first.

seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:42pm]: hey, it's jun-tae! seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:43pm]: hyun-tak was worried bc you're not answering, call me or him when you get this 😊 delivered — read at 11:03pm

you loved jun-tae — he was a recent addition to your brothers friend group. he was absolutely adorable, and had won you over with his polite and respectful nature. tapping on his contact, you hit the call button. the phone rang 6 times before it went into voicemail.

with no response from jun-tae, you decided to check your brothers messages.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:17pm]: hey idiot hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: sorry i haven't messaged or called, just got caught up with friends hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: call me when you get this hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: hey don't purposely ignore me hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: i know for a fact you're stuck to your phone 24/7 hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [10:59pm]: ok did something happen, call me when you get this delivered — read at 11:06pm

wow only 6 messages, that was a new record for hyun-tak. better than the time he had messaged you a single word at a time causing your inbox to inflate with 248 messages. you clicked on his contact, checking what time you had missed his calls.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — 2 missed calls at 9:20pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 9:38pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 11:00pm

you giggled, it was just like him to call you 2 minutes after messaging because you didn't immediately answer. tapping on the voicemail, you gave it a listen.

"hey baby sis, are you okay? i'm worried that little miss glued to her phone isn't answering. anyways whenever you get this, call me back. also don't be mad, i'm at the hospital."

were you really related? your brother was a dumbass. instead of assuming you were asleep, the first thing he thinks is that something is wrong.

wait. hospital. what?

you shot up, panic flooding in. running into your room, you grabbed a small bag, shoving your phone, wallet, keys and headphones inside.

running back out to the entrance, you forced shoes onto your feet. as soon as your shoes were on, you sprinted outside to grab a taxi. the drive to the hospital felt endless. you were beyond scared, imagining all different types of scenarios.

thanking the taxi driver, you rushed inside the hospital and upon entering you heard hyun-tak's voice.

"man, you crybaby. did you cry again?"

and hu-min's voice.

"i didn't."

"si-eun, don't worry he cries all the time." — "i didn't cry, jerk."

hyun-tak sounded completely fine. speeding up a little, you reached the group of boys. seeing hyun-tak with no injuries, you wrapped your hands around him, a sense of relief washing over you. he's okay — your brother was okay.

wait, you were supposed to be angry.

pulling out of his grip, you smacked hyun-tak on the shoulder. "owww, what the hell was that for?" he whined.

"what the hell was that for!?" you said, your eyes bulging. you smacked him again.

"you're an asshole, do you know how worried i was? why on earth would you end the voicemail with 'i'm in the hospital' when you're perfectly fine! you scared me!".

you wanted to smack him more but your body betrayed you, wrapping your arms around him once more.

"i'm sorryyyy —" hyun-tak said, smiling and gently patting your head. "the voicemail ended before i could say anything else. i was going to include that i was in the hospital to see si-eun".

"i'll deal with you at home." you huffed, pulling away from him. forcing a smile, you turned around.

"hi jun-tae, long time no see!" you said to the boy who stood to the right of you, giving him a side-hug.

"hi si-eun, i hope you're okay. nothing serious right?" you asked, giving him a polite wave. si-eun wasn't much of a hugger or talker, especially with those he didn't know well. but he knew he could trust you, you were like a mini hyun-tak.

"i'm okay, just a minor accident. only a few scratches here and there" si-eun replied, smiling softly.

"i'm glad" you responded, mirroring si-eun's smile.

"hey ___". you were surprised hu-min was talking to you, considering he hadn't acknowledged what you had said to him while he was leaving.

you almost didn't want to respond to him, but feeling the eyes of your brother and his friends on you, you settled for a simple 'hi'.

you stared at hu-min in silence, waiting for him to say something. but instead juntae cleared his throat, "i'm going to drop si-eun back to his room. let's go si-eun." — "i'm gonna go with them" hyun-tak added.

they hadn't left because they weren't uncomfortable. they'd left to make you feel comfortable, to give you the privacy you needed. hyun-tak had told them about your past with hu-min, how you had been harbouring feelings for each other, both afraid to do anything about said feelings. how his accident was the tipping point for you.

watching their silhouettes disappear, you felt a hand grab your wrist. you looked up at hu-min with a confusion expression that translated to 'what are you doing?'.

holding onto you, hu-min led you outside. the cold wind hitting your face as you exited the hospital. "what do you think you're doing?" you asked him. "i need to talk to you. sit." you slowly lowered yourself onto the wooden bench.

the frosty air settled on your skin making you realise that you'd forgotten a jacket. out of the corner of your eye, you saw hu-min removing his hoodie and before you could refuse, it is in front of your face.

"i'm fine, it's fine."

"just take it, you're shivering like crazy" he exhaled, placing the zip-up over your shoulders. you, unconsciously, pulled his hoodie closer to you, feeling his lingering warmth in the fabric.

"what did you wanna talk about hu-min?" the cold weather was making you impatient causing the words coming out sharper than intended.

taking a deep breath, hu-min gathered his courage. fighting with other boys, easy. talking to the girl he likes, no thanks. he'd rather fight a 100 boys than feel the emotions he was feeling right now, ever again.

"your brother forgave me, why can't you?" he whispered. he was right. hyun-tak had forgiven hu-min — technically he had never blamed hu-min to begin with. so what about you, what was holding you back for forgiving him?

a heavy silence settled between you. "nevermind... forget i said anything, i'm sorry". hu-min was getting restless, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing.

"no... you're right, i'm sorry hu-min." you've gotten this far, now it was time to just rip the bandaid off.

tapping the space next to you, you silently invited hu-min to come sit down. he had been standing the entire time, worried that being too close would make you uncomfortable.

"i'm not angry at you —" you spoke slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. "i mean i was angry, initially i did blame you for what happened to hyun-tak. all i could think was, had he not been friends with you, he won't have gone through what he did".

taking a deep breath, you continued explaining how during the first two months of hyun-tak's recovery you were so so angry at him and how by month four, it had become tiring.

not only did you not want to hate the boy you love, you'd realised you were incapable of it.

"soon after, hyun-tak had picked up on the fact that i wasn't speaking to you. and you know what he said to me?" you let out a quiet laugh. "don't hate hu-min too much, the guy is a bit of a dummy. just go talk to him". what you had tried so hard to hide, your brother had picked up on in seconds.

after hearing those words from your brother, you realised that the anger and resentment you had held towards hu-min for being the "cause" of hyun-tak's accident had dissipated. and the real cause was something else altogether.

"the reason i've been upset with you is something else. did you think i was angry because of what happened all this time?"

"yeah..." — "well do you get why i was actually upset?" hu-min shook his head 'no'. you were starting to believe that he did, in fact, have a 99iq.

"hu-min!" you slightly raised your voice, slapping his shoulder. "can you please explain to me why you were actually upset with me?" he asked, with the most innocent look on his face. "are you serious?" was he trying to tease you?

"i was upset because you didn't reach out to me. after i walked past you in the hospital you didn't try to contact me. not once." you sighed, taking a breath to prevent tears from welling up in your eyes.

"i felt abandoned. i thought i meant more-" hu-min pulled you into a hug before you could finish. 'i'm sorry' he repeatedly whispered, like a mantra, his voice full of regret. you pressed your lips together, trying your best to not cry, but it was too late. tears had began to slide down your face, dampening hu-min's shoulder.

"hey, you're making me look bad, why are you apologising? i'm the one who is sorry hu-min, it was wrong of me." you spoke, your voice muffled.

"ialsomayhavebeenupsetbecauseyoudidn'tfeelthesamewayaboutme" you quickly murmured under your breath, praying he hadn't caught onto what you said.

but he had. hu-min pulled back just enough so he could see you, his eyes softening at the sight of your slightly puffy eyes. "oh dear, my poor baby —" he said in a teasing tone, wiping the remnants of your tears. " ___, do you have 99iq or do i? i think we both do."

"i like you".

"i like you so much. my every waking thought is about you. hell, even my dreams are about you." you were speechless, your brain was short-circuiting. "i was worried that baek-jin would go after you so i thought the easiest and safest thing to do was to stay away. i'm sorry i should've told you."

"please say something."

without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around hu-min.

"i like you too, god we're both idiots." you laughed, with a final few tears making their appearance. hu-min hugged you tighter — "guess we are" he mumbled, laughing softly.

"c'mon lets go inside". standing up, you laced your fingers through his. "give me a minute, you head in first" he replied.

you nodded and made your way towards the hospital entrance. realising there was one important thing you forgot to tell him, you turned back around.

"hey baku" you yelled with a grin on your face, "you know you're not alone right, you have me, hyun-tak, jun-tae, and si-eun. try not to hold the burden all on your own, i don't want my future boyfriend to get squashed. now hurry up and come inside".

hu-min hadn't realised how much he yearned to hear that nickname from you. and for the first time in a while, hu-min smiled. not a polite one to show everyone he was okay when he wasn't, but a genuine one.

turning back around, you headed inside. you felt happy, happier than you have been in the past year. even though there was still the whole union mess to clean up and even though you technically weren't dating yet, you were happy. you didn't mind waiting for hu-min for a little while, not when he had waited for you.

for @bloodysxxl who wanted a second part 🫶

and as always lmk your thoughts!! :)

243 notes · View notes

bunnyluvx · 6 months ago

Text

first kisses with overwatch characters! ♡

featuring: reinhardt, venture, mercy & brigitte x gn!reader. (all separate)

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content.

a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i have officially hit over 100 posts and thank you to everyone and anyone who has interacted with my content. thank you to my loved ones who have shown support through the time that i have had this blog, it truly means the world. happy holidays to all who are celebrating around this time of year, and have a good day if you're not!! enjoy some fluff!

date started: 4:15PM, december 12th, 2024.

date finished: 5:03PM. december 21st, 2024.

divider credit: hearts by @isisjupiter, support by @cafekitsune

wc: 2k | ao3

reinhardt ♡

the two of you have known each other for many years. you were in the crusaders together, and fought alongside one another for as long as you could remember. what used to be a crush turned into a deep-set yearning the more time passed by. you swear that no one you have never ached for someone the way that you ached for him, and he could say the same about you. the difference between the two of you is that he was always more vocal about his affections. you are the type of person who shows your love through actions instead of words, and while reinhardt has never hesitated to show you that he adores you, he was far more outspoken about it than you were. there were many times where he was boasting about how wonderful you are, the way that you would dote on him and just how lovely you are. you would get embarrassed and try to quiet him, which only made him laugh and become louder. you're a pair of adorable fools.

when reinhardt mentioned meeting his family for the first time, you were nervous. you knew that the lindholms were people that reinhardt adored, and that there were a lot of them, so you were very intimidated. you wanted to make a good impression and do right by reinhardt, but you had never let him down before. you were very quickly accepted into the lindholm family, and you came the love them just as much as reinhardt does. family is something that reinhardt holds close to his heart, so seeing you get along so well with everyone set into stone that you were the person that he wanted to be with.

it was the holiday season, and you were invited to spend it with the lindholms once again. the moon was lounging in the sky, the stars by its side when you and reinhardt were enacting a story for the children. of course, reinhardt was the knight come to save the day, and you were his royal in distress. you collaborated in narration with him while he battled pillows and stuffed animals, pretending that they were ferocious beasts that kept him from you. he fiercely defeated every enemy that blocked his path with a plastic sword, and when he finally reached you, you laid your hand over your heart and fell into his arms. he spun you around while holding you bridal style, laughter from all parties singing into the air. finally, the journey had come to an end, and the large man dipped you down and asked, "i don't suppose that you have a reward for me, your highness?"

you knew exactly what he meant, and you shook your head playfully at his antics. "but of course i do." you said, then turned to the children, "but should i?"

the tiny audience screeched for you to kiss him. you couldn't possibly deny them, so you leaned in and rewarded your diligent hero with a kiss. there was absolutely no hesitation from reinhardt, returning your gesture like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. his lips were dry, but he was ever so warm. the kids lost it and all began squealing and yelling excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, strong arms pulling you closer to him as he slightly rose from the dip. you both agree that you would have loved to become official much sooner, but that moment was perfect. after all of the longing, there could be no moment more fitting for you to your devotion to each other.

venture ♡

i feel like venture gets really nervous when it comes to you. they don't find themself feeling so strongly about just anyone, so when they realized that they were developing feelings for you, they didn't really know what to do about it. you felt similarly, always tripping over your words when talking to them, laughing a little too hard at one of their jokes or taking note of every detail that you could retain about their interests. neither of you made any moves that were obvious to yourselves, but everyone around you was in agony.

venture's well-known way of showing affection to their loved ones is through pebbling. they'll find something that they think someone will like, and rush to give it to them. some of the overwatch team know this about venture and find it super endearing when they are on the receiving end of their gift-giving, but when they all noticed that you became venture's favorite person to gift to, they started to become suspicious. you returned their generosity by getting them any and everything that you could find that took to their interests, and they were always over the moon about it. they would brag to other members of overwatch about what you got them and talk for hours about it. neither of you are very subtle when it comes to your feelings, so they all figured out pretty quickly that the two of you were into each other and just never said anything.

you had been working on something for a long time, and when you finally finished it, you knew that you had to give it to venture as soon as humanly possible. you were hanging out in their room when you showed them a statue that you hand-carved of the two of you, and to say that venture was excited would be an understatement. they marveled at your creation, gently cradling it in their hands and admiring all of the little details that you added. they talked about the material that you used and gushed before setting the statue aside, opening their arms and blurting out, "I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD!!!!"

upon realizing what they said, the archaeologist slammed both of their hands over their mouth with wide eyes. they started rambling apologies and you were just as surprised, cheeks growing hot on your face. you tried to console them before taking their hands in your own and telling them, "i want you to kiss me."

surprise spreads across their face, though it's quickly replaced by excitement. their eyes sparkle and they smile widely before wrapping their arms around your neck and kissing you. their lips were soft, a little chapped but you didn't mind, and their kiss was ever so tender. you felt so lucky that of all people, you are the person that they feel safe with. and everyday, they thank their lucky stars that you stand at their side through every adventure.

mercy ♡

poetry has always been the best way that you express your feelings. before becoming official with mercy, you were always telling her that she was the most beautiful, loving, unique soul that you had ever met. not to say that you didn't show your affections through your actions too, as mercy is the type of person who doesn't just want to hear things, she wants you to show it. and you did. time and time again, you helped mercy clean up after a hard fought battle, went out for coffee with her and listened to her when she needed you to. you had proven to mercy that you were serious about your feelings for her, you just like to express it through words.

so, when you finally decided that you wanted to make things official with her, you wrote her a poem. you spent a long time working on it, revising and sometimes even starting something completely new. after everything that the two of you had been through together, and because of how important she is to you, you wanted it to be perfect.

the night that you read it to her, she was smitten. you had become one of the most important people in her life, and hearing you express your deepest, truest feelings to her solidified it in her head that you are the person she wanted. your performance was exquisite, albeit a little dramatic due to your theatric nature, but that's just one more thing that she loved about you. she applauded once you were finished and chuckled, standing before approaching you and holding your hands. "ever the charmer, you are." she muses lightheartedly.

you chuckled and placed a hand on her hip. "am i charming enough for a kiss?" you asked, partially teasing and really not at the same time.

the woman chuckles and taunts, "just charming enough."

her lips felt like magic as they connected to yours. both of your arms come around her to encase her in an embrace, pulling her close to your body as you return her affection. her hands rested on your chest and she gratefully kept against you. you hadn't become official sooner because mercy wanted to focus on her career in overwatch, but the closer that you grew, the more that you showed her that you will always have her back. you came to her when she needed you most, and she always did the same for you. she believes that with you by her side, the chances of ending this war are far greater than none.

brigitte ♡

i imagine that brigitte is the type of person who is very private about her love life, due to one of her interactions with tracer. tracer asks if she's seeing anyone, and brigitte says that she'll tell her later. with that being said, i think romance is a personal experience for her, so she doesn't talk too openly about it. therefore, when you began to grow romantically involved with brigitte, she told you that she didn't want it to be too public. you both agreed to only keep it to you and a few of your close loved ones, and you were alright with this arrangement. so long as brigitte is comfortable, you are too.

this was your dynamic for awhile. around others, all interactions you shared were purely platonic, but when you were alone, you were able to flirt, snuggle and leave lingering touches to your hearts content. it was difficult sometimes, but in the end, it was always worth it to have time with her later on. many nights that you spent together were just sitting around and talking. brigitte has always been an easy person to talk to, and when you are with her, you feel as though you could tell her anything without any judgement. nothing is better than a conversation with her.

it was one of those nights that you shared your first kiss with brigitte. you were talking about the way that your relationship has progressed, and how every day, your feelings for her grew stronger and stronger. she was looking at you like you were her everything, a crooked smile tilting onto her lips. in that moment, no one else existed in her world outside of the two of you. she listened to you talk about how much you adored her, a little pink coming to her cheeks. never has she felt so strongly about anyone, and never has she been so sure that she has wanted something the way that she wants you. while you were rambling, you weren't upfront with what you were trying to say, but you didn't have to. because brigitte knew how you felt. so, she cupped one side of your face and confessed, "i love you too."

you swore that you felt like you were flying the moment that your lips touched. her lips were soft and the pressure was gentle. her hand was warm and rough against your skin, yet cradled you so carefully. so much weight, tension and longing lifted from your shoulders when she finally made her move, and you weren't hesitant to return the gesture. you took her face in both hands and kissed her hard, and her hand came up to hold your face while her lips returned your roughness. you were both finally put out of your misery after so much time spent yearning for each other. you would make your relationship official that night, and slowly became more open about it to everyone in your lives. though, none of this came before brigitte smothered you in all of her kisses and affection.

154 notes · View notes

milaeth · 2 years ago

Text

୨୧┊ 𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part one ∿ part two ∿ part three ( coming soon )

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ none, this is just really chaotic lol

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ this is my first time writing a social media au so pls give me feedback! also, this is not proofread! btw feel free to leave requests <33

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: You know what, y/n?

y/n: no

princess george: I have the feeling that i’m gonna get a podium today!

y/n: what made you think that💀 not to crush your dreams princess, but i heavily doubt that

princess george: Wow, you’re so supportive. Why should I not be able to get a podium??

y/n: keyword: shitty car

princess george: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that… But i don’t care, i will manifest it (that’s what you always do, isn’t it?)

y/n: yeah sure..

princess george: You don’t believe me? Fine! Let’s make a bet then.

y/n: it’s way too early for this shit

princess george: Blahblahblah🙄

y/n: 💀 george i’m busy

princess george: Busy writing sad love songs about Charles or what??

y/n: …

princess george: Exactly. Now let’s do this!

y/n: why are you so eager to make this bet

princess george: Oh I just want to rub in your face that I was right afterwards

y/n: lovely.. but fine, start talking ig

princess george: Finally!

princess george: I predict that i’m gonna finish P3. Your prediction?

y/n: p11❤️

princess george: And now realistically…

y/n: p6

princess george: Thanks.

y/n: and what are the drawbacks?

princess george: I don’t know, maybe the loser has to hand over their main social media accounts to the winner for 24 hours. The loser isn’t allowed to use their main accounts in that time, only their private ones.

y/n: absolutely not

princess george: Aww you’re a scaredy cat?

y/n: no i just don’t trust you with my social media accounts💀

princess george: Okay fair enough

princess george: But c’mon, it’s gonna be fun! Only for 24h

y/n: fine but the winner can’t post anything too bad

princess george: Sure, sure. So, deal?

y/n: deal! and good luck (i hope you dnf)

princess george: Lovely as always

[ seen 12:03pm ]

georgerussell63

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 1,056,386 others

georgerussell63 P3!!!! We keep on moving🔥🔥

view all 649 comments…

user471 was a close call but congratulations!

user172 carlos deserved it more, you literally pushed him off

user93 he didn’t push carlos off but okay💀

user425 so happy for you!

user65 it should’ve been carlos

charles_leclerc congrats on p3 mate!!🔥

georgerussell63 Congratulations on P2! I nearly got you, watch your back next time😉

charles_leclerc let’s highlight the word “nearly”😉

user976 so happy to see you on the podium again🫶

yourusername still convinced you bewitched half of the grid to let you pass them

georgerussell63 Creative but no, I just had a great motivation😊😊

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Well well well, look who lost our bet…

y/n: 😐

princess george: C’mon give me the password to all your main accounts so i can log in😁

y/n: what if i were suicidal.

princess george: Honestly sounds like a you problem.

y/n: fuck you.

princess george: Still waiting for the passwords😊

y/n: fine, but remember, only for 24 hours!

princess george: Yeah, yeah. Now give them to me.

y/n: … insta is “503_UedusEiotSrk03” & twitter is “eZiyjDbbvwKi_zu_14806”

princess george: Damn, those are some ugly passwords!

y/n: are you seriously judging my PASSWORDS rn💀💀

[ seen 4:20pm ]

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,385,052 others

scuderiaferrari That’s ice cold🧊🥶 #F1 #P2 #Charles16

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 6,175 comments…

user47 dayuumm🤭

user21 no one could ever get me into one of those things😭

yourusername That’s a sight I could get used to🥵🔥

landonorris don’t ever say or write that again.

urusername_alt🔒 @yourusername you really make me want to kms

yourusername @urusername_alt🔒 Aw, appreciate it❤️😉

landonorris y/n have you officially lost it?? why are you talking to yourself💀

user275 did we all see that or am i crazy💀

user164 yep we all saw that💀💀

yourusername

liked by zendaya, bellahadid, charles_leclerc and 18,364,187 others

yourusername "eyes that confess, while lips whisper 'just friends.'" my new single “just friends” is out now!!🤍 (yes, another single about my crush😘)

view all 369,270 comments…

user937 THIS IS SO GOOD AND HEARTBREAKING WTF

lewishamilton already on repeat🔥

user25 i cried my eyes out to this.

landonorris this is a BANGER

user12 how is this so cute yet so sad💀

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: HPW COULD YOU

y/n: I GO TO BED AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO??

princess george: i have no idea what you’re talking about.

y/n: OH PLEASE YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT YOU DID

princess george: Uhmmm nope.

y/n: YOU POSTED ONE OF MY DRAFTS

y/n: AND NOT JUST ANY DRAFT

y/n: NO, YOU POSTED THE ONE ABT MY SINGLE💀

y/n: IM GETTING EMAILS FROM MY PR TEAM BC I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THAT ON TUESDAY

princess george: Oh, yeah, my finger slipped🫢🫢

y/n: your finger must’ve slipped multiple times then bc the caption is somehow a different one💀 not to forget the twitter thing

princess george: Oops?

princess george: Besides, I only added one sentence.

y/n: are you fucking serious

princess george: It was an accident.

y/n: ACCIDENT MY ASS YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!!! AND TOLD PEOPLE ITS ABOUT CHARLES WTF

princess george: To be fair that was predictable when we set the rules to this bet. And I didn’t directly say the single is about charles.

y/n: you did directly say that💀

y/n: istg i’m gonna beat you up the next time i see you

princess george: Should I be worried..?

y/n: definitely.

y/n: you give me so many seasons to kill you. this is literally the 19th one

princess george: Make it 20…

y/n: george. what do you mean.

princess george: I might’ve given you another season. On accident!!

princess george: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cu-IkZstViy/?img_index=1

y/n: oh no

f1wags

163,948 likes

f1wags Love is in the air, and our radar has picked up some juicy rumors! It seems like the friendship between the singer Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc is turning into something more than just a casual relationship. Get ready for the scoop as we take a closer look at the blossoming relationship between these two stars!

Y/N and Charles first crossed paths through their mutual friend George Russell, but it seems their connection has deepened over time. On late Sunday, Y/N dropped a bombshell by announcing her upcoming single to her social media followers, accompanied by a captivating caption. The last sentence read, "another single about my crush😘," which made fans curious and hopeful for more.

The plot thickened when Y/N responded to a tweet and saying that the song was indeed inspired by her "bae," none other than talented Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc. The revelation left followers shaking with excitement, and it's clear that the connection between the two goes deeper than mere friendship.

But that's not all! Observant watchers have noticed the undeniable chemistry between Y/N and Charles, catching glimpses of their interactions when they thought no one was watching. Ah, the power of love! Charles might have forgotten that the public has eyes everywhere, but we certainly haven't missed a beat.

The burning question on everyone's mind is: what's behind their friendship? Is it just a playful crush or something much more intense? Could Y/N L/N be a new f1 wag? Time will tell, but for now we can't help but root for this potential power couple.

So stay tuned, gossip lovers, because there's more to come from Y/N L/N and Charles Leclerc. Whether it's a steamy romance or just a close friendship, we'll be here keeping our eyes peeled for any hint of what's going on behind the scenes. Love may be a game of mystery, but they've forgotten that we're experts at unraveling the truth. Keep your eyes open, folks!

view all 33,647 comments…

user79 y’all really don’t know how to mind your own business

user943 why are people making such a big deal out of this like they’re just friends and y/n was probably just drunk or smth when she said those things🙄🙄 ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS!!

user27 you guys really don’t have a life huh💀

user375 who tf is this blondie

user50 girl stfu that’s literally my wife

user697 AAAA i really hope this is real bc they’re so cute💖

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: 💀💀💀

princess george: I’m starting to feel bad now..

y/n: good, you should💀

y/n: i’m gonna apologize to charles now

princess george: Why, It’s not your fault.

y/n: you’re right, it’s yours. but you said all those things with my account so it looks like it’s my fault lol

princess george: I’m really sorry, I took it a little far!

y/n: a little is good💀 but dw it’s okay, i know you only meant it jokingly, i’ll tell everyone it was you and not me once the 24 hours are over

princess george: 👍 Good luck talking to Charles. And don’t forget to confess to him before I do it for you😉😉

[ seen 1:24pm ]

∿ people who might want to get tagged ─ @81astri @cs55version @lorarri ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings !#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #social media au #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #imagine

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jerodiamond · 1 year ago

Video

04/09/2024 4:03PM #SETHJFITNESS

#youtube #04/09/2024 4:03PM SETHJFITNESS

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peppertoastuniverse · 9 months ago

Text

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 5: mandarin

contents: gojo Satoru x reader, FLUFF , satoru being a little shit, 2 idiots summary: when you consistently ignore gojo’s frequent texts to hang out, he takes matters into his own hands wc: 3.2k

“whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity. it was too much. he was always too much. regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

ding. ding. it only took two impatient sounds to disturb your peace. slightly groaning as you hear the echoing source of your current pain: your phone. ever since gojo got a hold of your number it like was like his grating voice was constantly in your head. he constantly texted you, blowing up your phone about anything and everything. from what he swore was the best daifuku in Tokyo he discovered last week, or complaining about how unfair it was that ieri kicked him out of her room again or sending you photos of him post mission, peace signs prominent with a cheery grin while geto was in the background back turned, hunched over presumably throwing up from a particular nasty curse he had to ingest - gojo never failed to message you.

for the most part you didn’t respond to gojo’s constant messages, but that didn’t deter him, if anything it prompted him to text you even more. in your eyes, it was only a matter of time before he would get tired of you - you were just waiting for him to realise what you knew was going to happen. it was a reason why you kept your walls so high, you enjoyed the safety and predictability of the darkness and satoru gojo was too bright.

turning back to your desk you pick up your discarded pen, twirling it in your hands absentmindedly. how long have you been at this? probably 3 hours at least. you quickly skim through his messages while you regather your papers together.

gojo: hehe look at this (2:13pm) [image] (2:13pm)

you open the attachment begrudgingly, the unopened image taunting you, peaking your curiosity. it was a blurry photo of an annoyed geto, mouth open probably cussing gojo out, violet eyes flashing in warning looking beyond the camera with his arms attempting to grab the phone from him. his dark bangs frame his face as usual but the rest of his dark hair was pulled into two high messy pigtails. snorting in amusement, you download the image - ah a new treasure. sometimes gojo could be useful. you return to the message thread, seeing a flow of multiple messages.

gojo: bbbbbb <3 (4:03pm) im booooored booooooooooored lets hangggg (6:04pm) lets do something rn (6:10pm) omg when r u gna stop ignoring me lol (6:20pm) (◞‸◟；) stoppp (6:21pm) how come u never answer me "( – ⌓ – ) (6:22pm) not cool b (6:25pm)

you easily silence your phone before hastily typing in a message to appease him.

you: busy (6:40pm)

gojo: (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) busy??? the whole day?! (6:40pm) busy with what (6:41pm) with whaaaat bbb ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) (6:43pm)

you don’t bother answering him, instead choosing to ignore him for what seemed to be the millionth time . you really had to get this done – not that you wanted to hang out with gojo anyway. discarding your phone on your bedside table, you groan when you make your return to your desk. this was the worst part about being a sorcerer : the paperwork. you’ve put off the reports for the last 4 missions that you went on, plus you had to do the rest of your homework. you palm your temple with a sigh of anticipation in what surely was going to be a long night.

and then you hear it; a whine of your name beyond your door paired knocking on your door to an uneven rhythm. ughh. you could just imagine the overly dramatic pout on his face.

as to appease the assault that your door was taking, you opened the opposing barrier with a scowl on your face.

“how come you don’t answer my messages?” gojo immediately whines the minute he sees you.

“I told you, I’m busy!”

“but we’re friends! you answer suguru and shoko!”

“yeah because they don’t message me every 2 seconds – my phone is usually on silent anyway, so I forget to check.”

“ughhh… sooooo, can we hang out now?” he gripes, lowering his dark glasses, showing the crocodile tears dancing on his waterline.

“...i have all this paperwork to do, gojo.” you say opening your door wider, gesturing to your messy desk.

he sighs exasperate throwing his hands in the air. “…fine.” pout on full view he turns his firm back, not sparing you a second glance retreating into his room next to yours.

huh. that was easy. part of you felt validated in his easy retreat, it was something that you were used to, something expected – even from the strongest.

you settle back in to your desk, cursing your past self for putting this off for so long.

okay, okay, where were you? concentrate. ughhhh … what happened in nagasaki again? oh right it was that stupid scissor curse that cut you up pretty badly – not your best moment. geto really saved your ass back there with rainbow dragon. he ended up swallowing the curse later and annoyingly scolded you. but he also complained -

“babe!! i'm hooooomeeee!” the door handle rustles before abruptly opening, a mop of tousled white hair, barges into your room with no warning. your wide eyes narrow at the annoyance. waltzing in with a pep in his step, obnoxiously swinging a plastic bag filled to the brim of multiple cakes, sweets and sugary drinks was gojo with an aggravating smirk. you stare at him, hoping your heated glance would melt his grinning face off.

“don't give me that face, grumpy! i got ya some concentration snackies - aren't you glad i thought of you, huh? im such a good friend.” poking your shoulder in greeting ignoring your exasperated pout.

“no one appreciates me here! i'm more than just a pretty face, y'know.” gojo responds to your silence with a dramatic sigh. he settles the bulging bag on the floor he tosses his too long body onto your bed, jostling the soft pillows. you tsk in disapproval.

cooing as he spots Bun Bun peacefully resting on the middle of your bed, you watch as gojo's long limbs dramatically flail to pick up the pink bunny stuffie. “hey, lil’ guy,” he whispers, his slender nose nuzzling Bun Bun's plush cheeks, “i know, I know, babe’s not being fun again. yeah i know, i told her don't worry.” turning his head to meet your incredulous glare. your eye begins to twitch in annoyance, "that's not what he's saying!"

“uh huh, you're just jealous of our bond." he scrunches up his nose at you, " y’knowww you’re gonna get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so much!” gojo practically sings from your bed, infinity easily going up as you launch an eraser at him angrily. he snickers before settling on his side, moving Bun Bun lovingly to share the same pillow as him.

ignoring gojo was no easy feat, but luckily you were very experienced in that field. returning to your work on your desk, you bite your tongue with the urge to cuss him out. you wheel your chair around to fully ignore his distracting presence.

he always took up too much space, his very energy making it hard to focus.

resting your head on your palm, you prop your head up attempting get back into the zone of concentration.

alright, nagasaki. you smirk as you remember how geto complained how terrible it tasted and how amazing that ramen was that you and geto had after. he was worried about your shallow wounds despite your constant reassurance that you were fine, ugh suguru was way too considerate. you pretty much had to beg him to go get some food, you remember how you grinned self righteously as you watched his hesitation disappear the minute he tasted the broth. you had a suspicion it was partly because the curse tasted so bad. but that didn't stop geto from carrying you back on rainbow dragon despite your fear of heights. you wince as you remember ieri smacking you and geto when you got back because she was so pissed when you didn't return straight away with all of those cuts –

“whatcha doing?” you feel gojo's warm breath in your ear, the action making you shudder at the intrusion.

abruptly you turn your head to see gojo’s face right next to yours over your shoulder, nose daring to brushing his smooth cheek.

yelping loudly, you jerk to the side causing you to fall off your chair in a fright. you hear gojo’s amused snort as you close your eyes waiting to hit the ground but … it never came.

warm arms lightly grip your abdomen preventing you from hitting the ground, you feel gojo’s firm chest behind your back as you sit clumsily in his lap, legs swung over to his left side. his skin was warm and soft, invading your senses with his familiar scent. the weight of his body against yours felt foreignly comforting. engulfing your already panicked state in a new level of unease, you weren't completely sure if you enjoyed his warmth or resented him for making you question it. you unconsciously settle your hand on his forearm against your stomach finding an overwhelming needing to ground yourself. you hoped that he couldn’t feel your loudly beating heart through your chest, or that his six eyes couldn't see the deeply buried holes in your heart. “whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity.

it was too much. he was always too much.

regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.

“ompff – uhh – careful where you're – ompff – stepping, babe!” he stutters quickly, worry and slight panic tinging his voice. his body attempting to shift with your fussing to neutralize your erratic momovements, “look, I don’t give a fuck – oh geez – but the clan still wants an heir so – please be careful“ a large hand goes to still your shin.

an heir? does he mean – oh. OH. in a panic you finally manage to slide down onto to the floor legs still draped over his thighs.

“d-don’t you have anything better to do?!” you deflect refusing to look him. crossing your arms across your chest, trying to distract yourself form thinking about gojo in that way.

gojo’s eyes widen. whoa, what's with that expression? this was ... new. he couldn’t help but notice how your face flushed, the heat gradually spreading to the tips of your ears, down your the column of your pretty throat...

“you would know if you checked your messages!” he huffs ignoring the way his ears turn pink, “we’re gonna hang out when you're done.”

when did you agree to this?

"who decided that?" you said fighting the blush you knew decorated your face, face full of defiance.

he whines your name, “c'mon!!”

“ugh, I still have to do the stupid paperwork! i’ve put it off too long.” you groan flopping on the ground, using your hands to rub your eyes. truth be told, gojo being in your room felt almost suffocating. the air felt too stifling, like you were backed into a corner forced to always playing defence with the strongest. and you didn't want to play his stupid games.

breathing softly you watch as the growing shadows on the your ceiling frame your nagging restlessness to get work done. gojo’s face popping into your view.

“why don’t you take a break? you’ve been working hard for hours – let’s have some snacks!” he adds, attempting to sweeten the deal. you shrug noncommittally, you just wanted to be free of that stupid paperwork. you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, as he digs through his haul, mumbling to himself, "not this.. ugh not this one either, hmm, that's definitely mine .. oh fuck i forgot i bought this heh.. where is it? i just..."

“m’ not in the mood for sweets, go–“

“i got you – I knew you’d want something boring!” you hear him rustling deeper into the plastic bag. you smell a burst of citrus. his grin comes into view again while he roughly shoves a few segments of a mandarin into your mouth, forcing the rest of the peeled fruit into your hand.

“mph! dude– “ you quickly chew the segment in surprise, mouth bursting with the refreshing juice, the orange’s soft flesh tangy and slightly sweet. “… huh. thanks.”

gojo hums victoriously, falling on his back beside you, legs bent, foot tapping out a rhythm.

you split your remaining mandarin in half, feeling for the larger portion and passing it in gojo’s surprised hands. slender fingers briefly mingling with each other, electricity brewing between them. you retreat your hands quickly, purposely ignoring his lingering fingers.

if he notices, gojo makes no mention of it, popping the whole mandarin in his mouth.

“so, why was suguru’s hair in pigtails?” you ask, amused smile growing on your face from the memory of geto’s disturbed expression. chewing on another segment, you could easily imagine geto's loud grumble and exasperation that you frequently heard when gojo was around him.

gojo barks out a laugh, half chewed mandarin still in his mouth. “idiot fell asleep in the common room and y’know… anything is fair game there,” he says shifting slightly to look at you.

“oh god. pff, yeah honestly he had it coming. poor suguru though, he’s been so busy lately, must've been exhausted… i’m surprised he didn’t murder you.”

“oh he tried, he summoned 3 curses,” gojo snickers, pushing his dark glasses up.

“… next time we should do space buns,” you grin mischievously.

“oh fuck that’s a great idea!” he shouts, repeatedly tapping the ground in excitement, matching grin on his face. gojo was practically vibrating with mischief, inching closer to you on the ground.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. often times gojo reminded you of an overly excitable puppy, constantly wagging his tail, begging for attention. usually you'd get the puppy who would become your shadow, whining constantly for a walk and would harness their chaotic energy to trash a room just because. there's a reason why you were a cat person.

“but oh my goddd, have you touched his hair, babe? it’s so fucking soft? i don’t understand what he does but -" you watched gojo talk animatedly. his mouth dressed up in a boyish gin, pearly teeth on full display, emphasizing the dimple on his left side, embellishing the joy he was radiating. it was times like these where you were strangely more aware that satoru gojo was handsome. the soft slope of his cupid’s bow that lead to delicate lips, the slant of his slender nose, his soft cheeks -

you shake your head. god, he was so distracting. he was so annoying.

“ - hey? did ya hear me?” gojo asks, poking your cheek. you share back at him blindly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. "huh?" stretching slightly you shift on to your side, curling your knees together so they almost touch his thighs. "what were you saying?"

“I said, I got you something!” not even bothering to hid his annoyed glare. he props himself up with his hand supporting his head, turning fully to you, mirroring your body. reaching into his back pocket, he takes out a silver phone charm. delicate and elegant, the neat row of varying silver and black beads strung on a intricate chain complimented the silver star at the end.

you blink at him. “wait- for me?” your eyes dart between the phone charm and his expectant smile.

“duh! it’s for your phone! so whenever you see it, it’ll remind you to answer my messages.” he jingles the keychain, waiting for you to take it.

you stare at him, a hidden expression on your face that he couldn’t decipher.

“man, I gotta do everything here, eh?” gojo pouts, rolling his eyes. he gracefully rolls over to reach for your phone on your bed side table with a sigh. plopping back down on his side, he loops the charm on to your phone grinning triumphantly.

“hehe, look, babe – now we have matching ones!!” he takes out his own phone to show you the same silver keychain on his phone. gojo hands you your phone back, immediately you admire the way the way the keychain captures the dim light of your bedside table. pretty. although gojo’s antics were dramatic and sometimes downright irritating, his constant effort to get to know you despite your adamant refusal was … endearing. you noticed that he was generous, not only constantly buying you, ieri and geto snacks or meals without prompting but generous in his time, annoyingly checking up on you when he didn't see you for a few hours. you had to admit that he did put up a good fight to your frank rebuffs. he noticed a lot more than you gave him credit for, he cared for his friends in his own way but fierce so. despite his arrogant and brash behaviour maybe, just maybe, he could be someone you could talk to once in a while, someone you could let in just a little bit. it wouldnt hurt to be on friendlier terms, right?

“… thanks gojo.” you say smiling in realization as you fiddle with the star of the keychain, unable to look at him.

something in gojo’s stomach flutters, not expecting your bashful demeanour. if you smiled at him like that, he think might collapse. he wasn’t even really sure what he did that granted him the privilege to see your smile, a genuine one - it was just a little trinket, an inexpensive thing he picked up because he was tired of radio silence from you. he smiled thinking about your reaction of something else, perhaps if he got you those specific chips that he noticed that you liked that were notorious for being be sold out at the convenience store or maybe a scarf since you always seemed to be cold or, or maybe even a necklace with his initials -

“… hey? gojo?" you ask softly.

"yes, my grumpy lil prince–" "shut up, before i take back what i'm going to say, idiot." you scoff, your dead pan glare, effectively doing the impossible in shutting up gojo. you sigh. god, were you going to regret this decision? "... if you give me like 2 hours in silence.." you palm your forehead, wondering if you've gone absolutely insane.

".... maybe we could watch a movie or something after?” you force out softly.

gojo smiles widely, almost bouncing up and down as he gets up from the floor, offering you a hand to help you up. you stare at his out stretched hand suspiciously.

“well, the sooner you get started the sooner we can watch!!”

hesitantly you accept his hand and his help. it was a strange feeling, one that you weren’t sure yet that you liked yet. you quickly sever the contact, dropping his hand immediately, not wanting to get used to this new sensation. you huff , moving towards your desk, reshuffling the papers with renewed energy.

turning around to face him, voice authoritative with warning, you meet his covered eyes “when I mean silence though gojo, I mean absolute silence.” he nods, looking back at you, he uses his slender pointer finger and thumb to zip his mouth, and toss away the key behind him, a promise in his bright eyes behind his dark glasses.

gojo resettles on your bed, with a triumphant sigh. he makes a point to grab Bun Bun to lay on his chest as he takes out his phone to play some games, his silver phone charm dancing in the light. you turn around, hands itching to finally get some work done, concentrating on summarizing the straight forward mission in hamura. an unusual silence aids the scratching of your pen on paper, propelling your rapid thoughts. but after 20 minutes of working, you hesitantly clear your throat, turning back to take a peek at gojo, his eyebrow quirked.

“… so, uh what movies are playing right now?”

you can hear the joy in his voice when he starts to weigh your options, even asking Bun Bun for his opinions and occasionally spoiling the plots for other options. With a soft grin, you found that this time you didn’t mind the chatter... or the company.

a/n: he just wants to spend time with you ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) --

head image credit: Itadakimasu dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #dividers by adornedwithlight #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #satoru gojou x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #satoru gojo x you

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sturnboos · 2 months ago

Note

hihihi may you please do one where thier younger sister who live with them in LA is like 13-14 and she gets her first period and she only want nick to know and he helps her but the next day nick wasn't home chris and matt and her go out and the boys notice something is off about her but they don't say anything about it but then they go out for dinner and she leaks and matt and chris help her.(sorry if that dont make sense english isnt my first language)

First Period

LITTLE SISTER READER X STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

warnings: clueless reader, first period, leaking in public.

a/n: shorter fic then normal, changed the request so it was all on the same day, never wrote about periods so hope this is good enough.

3:11pm

you couldn't comprehend what was happening as you stared at the toilet then at your underwear. Was that… Blood? Should you be worried? are you bleeding? Is this natural? you really had no idea what was happening and you were beginning to panic as you felt dizziness wash over you.

There was a sudden knock on the door. you heard Matt's voice from the other side, "Hey sweetheart, You alright there? You've been there for like half an hour now”

Still panicked, you pull up your underwear then your pants, you opened the door slightly and tried to smile at Matt "Yeah sorry, I'm alright. just a bit nauseous" she lied. "can.. can you get nick please?"

Matt gave her worried look then smiled, "Alright, if you say so." a few minutes past then other knock on the door "you alright in there?" Nicks voice was heard.

You started to sob, "I'm really scared Nick. I don't know what's happening" with that nick opens the door stepping into check on you, that’s when he noticed the blood in the toilet.

Nick quickly rubbed circles on your back to calm you "oh princess, there's nothing to be afraid of… this is just a natural occurrence for girls your age. It means you’re becoming a big kid."

you wiped a tear away "Oh?"

Nick chuckled, "Believe me, it’s a long lesson but i can help you get through the basics" not wanting to invade your privacy, nick grabbed a pad for you then handed you his phone with a video tutorial to show how to apply it. “I’ll be just outside the door okay?” He says before leaving.

7:03pm

later that same day you were walking out to Matt’s car ready to go to the restaurant for dinner which was a thing all 4 of you did every Friday. But today when you climbed in the car Nick wasn’t their and Matt already started to drive off.

“Wait where’s nick” you asked confused.

“He had a last minute space camp meeting… Laura picked him up, he’s probably not gonna make it tonight” Chris spoke.

“But that’s okay we can still have a fun dinner” Matt ads on.

you become nervous but nod and look out the window.

8:26pm

dinner was going well, you had ordered chicken tenders and fries, Matt got spaghetti and meatballs while Chris just got a hamburger. you got up to go grab more sauce for your chicken tenders but before you could even leave the table Chris’s hand tightens around your arm stopping you. you look at him confused, Matt’s mouth drops a little too but he quickly composed himself. "your leaking honey" Chris says, so you look down and low and behold, the front of your denim shorts soaked in blood. You became very embrassed. Matt was already tying his hoodie around you to hide it from the public. "should we go home so you can clean up or- " Chris questioned but you cut him off. "no it’s okay, I can wait"

"what were you getting up for before?" Matt questions. "Sauce"

Matt stood up grabbing the sauce for you. You all finished your meals like normal. when you got home you went straight to the bathroom to shower. Chris layed out some comfy pyjamas on the bed for you and Matt got straight to work trying to wash the blood out of your shorts. When you were all clean and comfy you all snuggled up on the couch and watched movies until Nick came home.

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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ficfield · 3 months ago

Text

Chris Redfield: Dad chronicles – Chaos, Crayons and a Cat named rocket.

Request: More Chris and his baby!! It’s so adorable I cannttt I need moreeeeeee

Dad chris never fails to amuse me 😂 Enjoy my lovelies

Chris Redfield faced Tyrants, B.O.W.s, and nightmares most people couldn’t imagine. He’d walked into bioterror hot zones with nothing but a combat knife and grim determination.

None of it had prepared him for parenthood.

Specifically, none of it had prepared him for this day.

“Rocket! No! Drop it!” Chris barked, lunging across the living room just in time to catch the family cat sauntering off with one of his son’s tiny sneakers in its mouth. Rocket, a stray that Claire had “accidentally” gifted them last year, hissed in annoyance but relinquished the shoe.

Chris sighed, holding the slobbery thing up in mild disgust before glancing at the clock. 2:37pm. Only… several more hours to go.

“Dad!” his son shouted from the hallway. “I made a masterpiece! Come see!”

Chris winced. Those words… they’d been said before. He trudged over, praying it wasn’t another “mural” on the wall.

It wasn’t this time.

It was worse.

“Oh no.”

The boy, four years old, full of energy, and apparently blessed with his mother’s creativity and lack of caution, beamed up at him. “I made Rocket a superhero!”

And there was Rocket, sitting in the laundry basket, covered in stickers, streamers, and sporting what Chris was pretty sure was one of his old tactical headsets duct taped around its tiny feline skull.

Rocket meowed pitifully. Chris sighed again.

“You’ve gotta stop using my field gear for crafts, buddy,” he said, gently peeling the headset off the cat. “This stuff isn’t cheap.”

“But Rocket needs to call for backup,” his son argued seriously. “He’s fighting crime.”

Chris groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, and I’m fighting a migraine.”

4:03PM.

Snack time turned into a battleground. Chris set out apple slices and peanut butter, his son demanded pancakes. Pancakes, Chris explained, were a breakfast food.

“I’m having a growth spurt,” his son declared, hands on his hips. “I need carbs.”

Chris blinked. “Where did you even learn that?”

“Aunt Jill.”

Of course.

Chris made pancakes.

4:45PM.

Finger painting. Chris had been told finger painting was a good outlet for kids. No one had mentioned that finger paint somehow ended up everywhere. On the table. On the floor. On Chris’s face.

At one point, Rocket streaked past, trailing neon green paw prints around the house.

“Your mom’s never gonna let me live this down,” Chris muttered under his breath.

5:22PM.

They played hide and seek.

Chris found his son inside the dryer.

“Hiding in appliances is never okay,” Chris scolded.

“But I fit!” his son protested.

Chris fought the urge to scream into his hands. “That’s not the point!”

6:03PM

Dinner was another exercise in practice. He cooked, he begged, he bribed. His son ate three bites and then insisted he was full.

Ten minutes later, he asked for ice cream.

Chris said no.

His son wailed like a siren.

Chris seriously considered calling in backup.

6:45PM.

By the time his partner, his wife, his best friend, the only other adult in the house, walked through the door, Chris was slumped on the couch, his t-shirt smeared with paint, peanut butter and cat hair. His son was shirtless, giggling, and wearing Chris’s BSAA cap backwards like he was in some kind of toddle street gang.

“Hi,” Chris croaked, hauling himself up.

She raised her eyebrow. “Rough day?”

Chris nodded wordlessly.

Their son ran to her, arms wide. “Mom! Mom! I made Rocket a superhero and dad said no carbs but aunty Jill said carbs are important and I got stuck in the tumble dryer but I was fine and-“

She smile, scooped him up, and kissed his cheek. “Wow, sounds like an adventure huh”

Chris could’ve cried with relief.

They got the kid bathed and into pajamas. Story time was mercifully brief (though he did have to read goodnight moon twice). And 8:15PM, their son was finally asleep.

Chris melted into the couch like a man who’d just survived a two-day op in enemy territory.

“You okay there, soldier?” she teased, sitting beside him.

He groaned. “I don’t think my back will ever recover.”

She chuckled softly, leaning into his side. “Well… good news.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to give me a massage?”

She smiled at him. Soft, warm, and just a little nervous.

“Not exactly.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny white stick with two pink lines.

Chris stared. Blinked. Stared again.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “We’re doing this again.”

Chris opened his mouth. Closed it =. Ran a hand through his hair and let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

“Another one,” he muttered “God help me.”

She laughed, taking his hand in hers. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Chris turned toward her, eyes soft. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You weren’t ready the first time,” she pointed out. “And look at you now.”

He glanced toward the baby monitor, where their son was snoring softly, one hand curled around his favourite stuffed wolf.

Chris smiled.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You can,” she agreed, kissing him gently. “But we should probably tell Leon after you’ve had time to process.”

Chris chuckled darkly. “He’s gonna buy matching leather jackets.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

They sat there in the quiet, hand in hand, as Chris let it all wash over him.

Another baby.

Another tiny life to protect. To love. To fight for.

He exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna need more coffee.”

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hd-junglebook · 1 year ago

Text

My Sunshine

Part 3

Warnings : kissing, pregnancy, sex (briefly), fighting, angry Jack! also not proofread so enjoy!

a:n Idk when I'll start on part 4 since I want to finish it's always been you, but I hope you guys like this one, cause I sure did. lmk what you think guys. pretty fluffy.

Masterlist Link

summary: The clock is ticking for how long she can keep a secret. Enjoy y/n and Jack indulging in each other in more way than one ;)

Word Count - 5538

...

15:23pm

Two months later…

She lay back on the exam table, the cool gel on her exposed belly sending a shiver down her spine. Heather sat beside her, holding her hand as the ultrasound technician moved the transducer over Y/N's stomach.

"There's your baby," the technician said with a smile, pointing to the screen. "Everything looks great. The heart rate is strong, and the baby is measuring right on track."

Y/N felt tears spring to her eyes as she stared at the grainy image of her child. She squeezed Heather's hand, a wave of emotion washing over her.

"Do you want to know the sex?" the technician asked, glancing between Y/N and Heather.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lower lip. She had been torn about whether or not to find out, but in the end, she had decided to wait. "No, I don't think so. I want it to be a surprise."

Heather's eyes widened, and she turned to Y/N with an incredulous look. "What? But how will we plan the baby shower? We need to know if we should buy pink or blue!"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "We can do a gender-neutral theme, Heather. It's not a big deal."

Heather pouted, but then her face lit up with an idea. "Okay, how about this? You don't find out, but I do. That way, I can plan the shower and keep it a secret from you."

Y/N considered the idea for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, that works. Just don't slip up and tell me, okay?"

Heather grinned, making a zipping motion over her lips. "My lips are sealed."

The technician smiled, handing Y/N a towel to wipe off the gel. "I'll just write it down and give it to your friend, then. Congratulations, by the way. You're going to be a great mom."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at the words. "Thank you. I can't wait to meet this little one."

As they walked out of the doctor's office, Heather looped her arm through Y/N's, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, when are you going to tell Jack about the baby? He's going to be so excited!"

Y/N's steps faltered, and she looked away, avoiding Heather's gaze. "I don't know. I'm just not ready yet."

Heather stopped walking, turning to face Y/N with a serious expression. "Y/N, you can't keep this a secret from him forever. In five months, you're going to have a baby, and he deserves to know."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. I just... I'm scared, Heather. What if he doesn't want this? What if he leaves me?"

Heather's expression softened, and she pulled Y/N into a hug. "Oh, honey. Jack loves you. He's not going to leave you, no matter what. And if he does, I'll kick his ass myself."

Y/N laughed, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks, Heather. You're right. I need to tell him. I'll do it soon, I promise." Heather nodded in response, squeezing Y/N's hand.

…

18:03pm

Y/N marked another X on the calendar, her hand instinctively moving to her slightly rounded belly. At 19 weeks pregnant, her bump was still small, and she had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret from most people, including Jack.

As she settled onto the couch, Y/N groaned as another wave of cramping tightened her abdomen into knots. Curling further into herself, she pressed a hand to her aching stomach, wishing the heating pad would ease the pain faster.

The cramps had eased slightly, but a lingering discomfort gnawed at her. Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and she reached for it with a weary groan. Jack's name flashed across the screen, and her heart skipped a beat.

"Hey Jack..." she answered, trying to keep the discomfort out of her voice.

His warm chuckle immediately soothed some of the tension in her neck. "Hey sunshine, how's my girl doing?"

"Could be worse. Is everything okay?" Y/N drawled absentmindedly, shifting the heating pad to a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I'm sorry hun, I just called to see if you wanted to go out later?" Jack's voice crackled slightly through the phone. "Just you, me...and that beautiful face of yours."

Y/N felt her cheeks warming at his flirtatious words, but grimaced as another cramping pain twisted her abdomen. "I would love to go out with you, Jack, but..." Y/N grimaced, drawing a shaky breath. "I'm not feeling too well right now. I think I might be coming down with something."

A heavy pause hung between them until Jack's warm chuckle drifted through the phone. "Well, how about I come over instead? I'll bring all your favorite snacks." His voice took on a gentle, coaxing tone. "You can pick out one of your corny movies, leave a Jack-sized space on the couch, and we'll have a cozy night in."

Closing her eyes, Y/N pictured Jack's strong arms enveloping her, his solid warmth soothing her aching body. The thought made her burrow deeper into the couch cushions with a soft whine. "You'd really come over? But I'm such a mess right now, Jack. I don't want you to have to deal with..."

She trailed off as another stabbing cramp seized her abdomen. Distantly, she heard Jack's worried murmurs through the phone.

"Y/N? Sunshine, you still with me? That's it, I'm coming over right now and you can't stop me."

Blinking back the tears stinging her eyes, Y/N huffed out a shaky laugh. "Yes, dear."

She could practically hear the grin in Jack's voice. "There's my girl. Just sit tight, okay? I'll be there with enough junk food to reunite a boyband."

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at Jack's unwavering support. " The door'll be unlocked, so just come in when you get here. You're the best, you know that?"

"I do, but it's always nice to hear," Jack teased. "I'll see you soon, sunshine. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

Pushing herself up from the couch, Y/N made her way to the bathroom, one hand resting on her belly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and paused, taking in the slight roundness that was just beginning to show beneath her oversized t-shirt.

"We'll tell him soon, little one," she murmured, rubbing gentle circles over her stomach. "But for now, it's just you and me."

With a soft smile, Y/N turned away from the mirror and headed back to the living room to wait for Jack.

…

19:12pm

Y/N hummed along to the music playing softly as she cleaned up the dishes from her snack earlier. The warm, soapy water soothed her aching hands as she scrubbed the bowl. She was so focused on her task that she didn't hear the front door open and close behind her, or the soft footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands covered her eyes, startling her out of her reverie. "Guess who?" Jack's voice was a low rumble against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped her, and she felt herself melting against his solid chest with a relieved sigh.

"Come on, guess!" Jack urged, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

Y/N couldn't fight the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. She placed the bowl back in the sink and reached up to cover his hands with her own, enjoying the playful moment. "Hmm, I don't know..." she teased, pretending to ponder the question. "Could it be my grumpy landlord finally coming to fix that leaky faucet?"

Jack chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back where his chest was pressed. "You wound me, love. Here I am, armed with enough junk food to induce a coma, and you accuse me of being the landlord. I thought you'd be more excited to see me."

He slowly spun her around to face him, removing his hands from her eyes to reveal the adorable grin on his face. Her heart pounded loudly against her chest as she took in his appearance, from the tousled hair that she longed to run her fingers through to the warm, blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

He was wearing the soft, worn t-shirt that she loved, the one that always smelled like him, and she had to resist the urge to bury her face in his chest and inhale deeply.

"Hi," she breathed out shyly under his intense gaze.

Jack's smile softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "Hi yourself." Jack's gaze dropped to her lips briefly before he leaned in, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against them.

Y/N's toes practically curled at the gentle caress. When he pulled back, she blinked up at him dazedly. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it," Jack shrugged with a crooked smile. He nodded towards the two bulging grocery bags on the counter.

"So, what kind of junk food extravaganza do you have planned for us tonight?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and playful despite the emotions swirling inside her.

Jack grinned, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a family-sized bag of chips. "Only the best for my girl. We've got chips, cookies, candy... everything we need for a proper movie night. And of course, I brought your favorite ice cream."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she felt a sudden craving for the rich, creamy treat. "My hero!" Y/N clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. "However will I repay you?" He laughed, pulling her into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

His eyes danced with mirth. "Well, for starters you can clear off some space on that couch..." He waggled his eyebrows comically. "I'll need somewhere to nestle in right next to you."

Laughing, Y/N swatted at his chest lightly. After clearing space on the couch, Y/N turned to see Jack carefully arranging an assortment of snacks on the coffee table.

"You really went overboard, didn't you?" She grinned, eyeing the smorgasbord of chips, cookies, candy, and her favorite ice cream pints.

Jack looked up with an incredulous expression. "Overboard? Sweetheart, this is the bare minimum for a proper couch date with snacks." He held up a pint with a flourish. "This double fudge brownie is a spiritual experience."

"You're ridiculous," Y/N laughed, grabbing the ice cream from his hand. "But I guess that's why I lo—" She caught herself abruptly, heat flooding her cheeks.

Jack's eyes danced with amusement, but he didn't comment on her near slip. Instead, he scooped her close, brushing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Why don't you pick the movie while I make us some snack plates?"

Nodding mutely, Y/N hugged the ice cream pint to her chest as Jack's warmth enveloped her for a moment before he released her. As she searched through the horror selection, she snuck glances at him piling snacks onto two big plates.

"You know," Jack's teasing voice made her look over. "If you burn a hole through those snacks just by staring, we'll have to start all over."

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. "Well maybe if someone didn't buy so many options, I wouldn't be starving just looking at them!"

Chuckling, Jack set the heaping plates on the coffee table and patted the couch cushion beside him. "C'mere, you brat. Let's get this movie started."

As Y/N cuddled into his side, surrounded by a cocoon of warmth and the tantalizing scent of buttery snacks, she couldn't quite believe how utterly content she felt. Jack's arm draped casually around her shoulders and she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

Just before she hit play, she felt Jack's lips graze the top of her head tenderly. "Thanks for letting me take care of you tonight, sunshine." She smiled at him, grinning mischievously as y/n clicked play on the remote, the opening title for "The Autopsy of Jane Doe" flashing across the TV screen.

Jack's eyes went comically wide. "Wait, I thought we were watching a rom-com? This is a horror flick!"

"Psh, you'll be fine," Y/N waved a dismissive hand, suppressing a grin. "Don't be such a baby."

"A baby?!" Jack sputtered, looking affronted. "I'll have you know I happen to be exceptionally brave when it comes to scary movies."

The opening scene was already building ominous tension as the coroners examined the mysterious body. Y/N felt Jack tense beside her on the couch. Leaning in closer, she murmured in a faux-spooky voice. "You're trembling, Jack. Should I pause it?"

"Don't you dare," he shot back, puffing out his chest in an attempt at nonchalance.

Y/N had to bite back a giggle at his bravado act. Onscreen, the music swelled as something creepy happened and Jack actually jumped, his arm tightening instinctively around her shoulders.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" he grumbled, throwing her a sideways glare as she dissolved into laughter.

Between squeals of laughter, Y/N managed, "Your face...oh my god, you should see...your face!"

Growling playfully, Jack tackled her until she was pinned beneath him on the couch, squeaking in surprise. His eyes danced with mirth, their noses brushing. "You think you're sooo funny, don't you?"

Y/N was breathless with residual giggles, grinning up at his adorably disgruntled expression. "I'm hilarious, what can I say?"

Jack's gaze dropped to her lips, his own quirking up. "You're something alright..."

The movie was all but forgotten as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning over her tingling lips. Y/N's eyes fluttered shut in anticipation and—

A bloodcurdling scream from the TV made them both start violently. Jack instinctively shielded Y/N, his solid weight pressing her deeper into the plush cushions as they both dissolved into laughter.

"Okay, okay!" Jack relented, rolling off her with a rueful chuckle. "You win, you scared the crap out of me. Put on a nice, safe comedy next, deal?"

Giggling, Y/N cuddled into his side once more, feeling warm and content. "Deal.”

…

22:07pm

The credits rolled after the satisfying final scene of The Autopsy of Jane Doe, but Y/N could barely focus - she was too busy trying to stifle her laughter at Jack's adorably petulant expression.

True to his word, he had stubbornly refused to utter a single word since halfway through the movie when Y/N's teasing over his reactions had reached epic proportions. While she had to admit the sight of the usually charismatic and smooth-talking Jack huddled under a blanket was priceless, the silent treatment was starting to make her feel a tad guilty.

"Aw, c'mon grumpy pants," she cajoled, shuffling closer and poking his firm bicep. "Don't be mad. I was just messing with you!"

Jack remained resolutely quiet, his chiseled jaw set in a mulish line as he stared straight ahead at the TV.

Biting her lip, Y/N trailed her fingers along the sculpted line of his arm, feeling the hard muscle there. "You know...the strong, silent type is pretty hot." She batted her lashes at him coyly. "Very brooding and mysterious."

A muscle in Jack's cheek twitched ever so slightly, but he didn't react further. Undeterred, Y/N let her roaming hand travel up to the nape of his neck, nails grazing the short hairs there in the way she knew drove him wild. "But you know what's even hotter?" she breathed, lips almost brushing the shell of his ear.

Jack swallowed hard but stayed frustratingly silent.

"A guy who can play it cool..." Y/N continued in a sultry murmur, throwing one leg over Jack's lap to straddle him. She felt him tense beneath her as she leaned in closer, her lips a hair's breadth from his. "But who can't resist losing control when I do...this..."

Tangling her fingers in those ridiculously soft locks of his, Y/N slanted her mouth over Jack's in a searing, scorching kiss. For a beat, he was motionless - then with a muffled groan, his arms came up to crush her against him, one hand spanning her lower back while the other cupped her neck to angle her head for deeper access.

When they finally broke apart, twin looks of dazed arousal and swollen lips, Jack let out a breathy chuckle. "Damnit, woman...that's just not fair."

"All's fair in love and horror movies, babe," Y/N shot back cheekily, reveling in the feel of his heart thudding against her breast. She nuzzled his jaw affectionately. "So, am I forgiven yet?"

"I suppose that's one way to get me to stop giving you the silent treatment," Jack murmured wryly, his warm palm skimming up and down her back.

"Good." Y/N punctuated the word with another lingering kiss. "Because I have so many more ways to make you lose that cool, calm, collected demeanor you try so hard to maintain around me..."

The low, rumbling groan that earned from the man beneath her sent tingles of delight racing through Y/N's veins. Suddenly, the credits faded to black as the TV shut off - but neither of them cared one bit.

Y/N shivered as Jack's hands roamed boldly along her curves, his touch like a blazing trail across her heated skin. His lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, teeth grazing teasingly.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His gravelly murmur had desire coiling low in her belly. "All I want is to make you mine in every way possible."

She whimpered softly as his kisses trailed down the column of her throat. "Jack...I'm already yours. You know how much I like you."

He pulled back just enough to pin her with an intense, molten stare. "Say it again."

Y/N reached up to trace the chiseled line of his jaw, reveling in the rough rasp of his five o'clock shadow. "I'm yours, Jack. All yours."

A primal sound rumbled from deep within his chest as he surged forward to slant his mouth over hers again. This kiss was all-consuming fierceness, stealing her breath and setting her nerve endings alight.

When he finally tore his lips away, Jack pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath fanning over her tingling mouth. "You have no idea what those words do to me, baby."

"Show me," Y/N challenged breathlessly, tugging him back down for another scorching kiss.

Jack groaned into her mouth as her nails raked through his hair. "You're playing with fire, sun." His hands drifted under the hem of her shirt, calloused palms blazing a path along her sides. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N rocked teasingly against the undeniable evidence of his arousal, earning a guttural curse from Jack's lips. "What do you think?" she whispered.

That seemed to snap the tenuous restraint Jack had been clinging to. With a low, feral growl, he grasped her thighs and surged to his feet in one fluid motion, carrying her towards the bedroom as she squealed with surprise and delight.

"Jack! What are you--mmph..."

His mouth slanted over hers again, effectively swallowing the rest of her words in a heated kiss that had her toes curling. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with naked want. "I'll show you exactly what I want, gorgeous. And this time..." He emphasized the words with a firm roll of his hips, drawing a strangled whimper from Y/N's lips. "You're not going to be doing any teasing."

Y/N's heart raced as Jack's heated kisses trailed along her jawline. She wanted this - god, did she want him - but a fluttering tendril of nervousness unfurled in her belly. This was new territory for them.

When he suddenly grasped her thighs and stood, carrying her towards the bedroom, she squeaked in surprise. "Jack! What are you--"

His searing kiss swallowed the rest of her words as he walked them down the hallway. Breaking apart, Y/N managed to breathe out, "Third door on the left..."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly at the waver in her tone, but he followed her directions until they tumbled onto her bed in a heated tangle of limbs.

Pinning her with those scorching blue eyes, he cupped her cheek tenderly. "You okay, sunshine? We can slow down if you need to."

Y/N's breath hitched at the concern in his voice, the nervousness in her gut blossoming into a warm glow. Leaning up to brush her lips against his, she murmured, "I'm okay, I promise. Just...it's been awhile for me and you mean so much to me, Jack. I don't want to mess this up."

The rough pad of his thumb stroked her flushed cheek as he gazed down at her with undisguised adoration. "You could never mess this up, baby. We'll go as slow as you need, okay?" He punctuated the words with another lingering kiss.

Some of the nervous tension in Y/N's body eased at his reassuring words. Winding her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and aching.

When they finally parted, Jack rested his forehead against hers. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," she answered honestly, feeling more sure now. She brushed her fingers through his tousled hair. "I want this. I want you, Jack...so badly. Please..."

The low groan he let out at her ardent whispers had heat licking through her veins. "You're going to be the death of me, woman," he rasped, settling his weight more firmly against her.

Then with a crooked grin, he asked in a tone laced with sin, "Now...where were we?"

Hooking one leg around his hips, Y/N pulled him closer until they were flush against each other, relishing in his full body shudder. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip teasingly. "I believe you were showing me what you wanted..."

…

9:12am

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, Y/N stirred from her slumber to the gentle touch of Jack's lips upon her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile gracing her face as she murmured before she'd even opened her eyes. "Good morning, Jack."

He leaned over her, his warm breath caressing her skin as he whispered, “Good morning, sleepy.” Jack grinned at her, all tousled bedhead and sparkling eyes. Shifting closer, he rested his head on her chest, letting his palm skim over her stomach in a tender caress.

Y/N stilled, nerves fluttering in her belly. She knew the small swell there wasn't noticeable yet, but the thought of Jack discovering her secret terrified her. She would tell him soon - but for now, she just wanted to bask in Jack's love and affection, pushing everything else aside.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" Jack's concerned murmur broke through her thoughts. "Do I make you nervous?"

He tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but Y/N couldn't shake the rising tide of anxiety. Almost involuntarily, her hand drifted to rest over her belly, cradling it protectively.

Jack's eyes tracked the movement, a small crease appearing between his brows. Biting her lip, Y/N forced a reassuring smile, not wanting to ruin their blissful morning just yet. "Nothing, I'm okay. Just...really happy to wake up with you here."

The crinkles by Jack's eyes deepened as his grin widened. "Me too, baby.”

Before he could say anything more, Y/N brushed off her nerves with a shake of her head, pulling his face up to hers. She showered him with kisses, her lips trailing across his face and neck. His touch was intoxicating, making her forget her worries for the moment.

Smoothing back her tousled hair, Jack held her gaze intently. "I really like you, you know that?" He murmured, pure sincerity ringing in his voice. "Waking up with you in my arms is everything I've ever wanted."

…

19:51pm

Two days later…

Y/N hummed along to the spectators commentary as her fingers flew across the keyboard. She was in the zone, the fictional world of her romance novel unfolding vividly in her mind's eye.

She read over the last few paragraphs she had written, her eyes skimming over the description of the protagonist's first meeting with her love interest.

It reminded Y/N of her own first encounter with Jack, the way his intense gaze had sent shivers down her spine, the way his rumbling voice had made her heart flutter in her chest.

A loud cheer from the TV made her jump, almost upending her coffee mug. Right, the Rangers game was on in the background. She shot a brief glance at the screen to see the Devils had scored again. Biting her lip, Y/N quickly typed out another paragraph before risking another look.

There was Jack, skating hard across the ice, that familiar intense expression etched onto his ruggedly handsome features.

Y/N turned up the volume slightly, smiling as she watched Jack deftly steal the puck and take off towards the opposing goal. That smile quickly turned into a wince, however, when a burly Rangers player body-checked Jack viciously from behind, sending him crashing hard into the boards.

"Son of a bitch!" Y/N shot to her feet, coffee completely forgotten, as the announcers' voices rose in a blend of shock and anger.

On screen, Jack had rolled to his knees, shaking off the brutal hit. But then he was lunging right back at the offending player, throwing wild haymakers as the two men tumbled to the ice in an all-out brawl.

Her attention was wholly captured by the scene unfolding on the television screen. Jack's gloved fist connected with the other player's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The Rangers player quickly retaliated, and within seconds, the two were engaged in a full-blown fight on the ice.

Gloves and helmets were discarded as punches were thrown, each man trying to gain the upper hand. Y/N's heart raced as she watched Jack, his jersey torn and his face bruised, continue to trade blows with his opponent. She knew he could hold his own, but that didn't stop the worry from gnawing at her insides.

After what felt like an eternity, the referees finally managed to separate the two men, each one still struggling against their grip. That sinking feeling of dread intensified when she saw Jack being led off towards the locker room, one hand pressed to his ribs while the other hung limply at his side.

Grabbing her phone, she hurriedly dialed his number - straight to voicemail. A cold knot twisted in the pit of her stomach as she watched replay after replay of the ugly fight. She knew Jack could handle himself, but nightmare scenarios still played through her mind on a terrifying loop.

Y/N shook her head forcefully, cutting off that threatening spiral of panic. She needed to stay calm until she could get in touch with Jack or his coach. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she willed her racing heart to slow as she fixed her gaze on the TV once more.

She began pacing frantically back and forth across her office, the romance novel on her desk completely forgotten, heart pounding in her ears as she clutched the phone with a white-knuckled grip to her face.

"Heather, you didn't see it! That guy obliterated Jack from behind - it was like he had zero regard for his safety!" She paused to take a shuddering breath, chest tight with panic. "And then Jack just...snapped. I've never seen him fight before."

"Woah, woah, slow down hon." Her best friend's soothing tones filtered through the line. "Jack's a tough guy, you know that. I'm sure he can handle himself just fine."

"You didn't see the way he went down though," Y/N whispered, the image of Jack's crumpled form seared into her brain. Her free hand drifted unconsciously to cradle her stomach. "What if he's really hurt? What if—"

The shrill ring of her phone's second line cut her off. Glancing at the caller ID, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. It was Jack.

"Oh god, Heather, it's him! I gotta go." Not waiting for a reply, she quickly switched over. "Jack? Baby, are you okay?"

A pained grunt was her first reply, causing Y/N's heart to lurch violently. When Jack finally spoke, his voice was low and strained. "Hey sunshine...I'm okay, I promise. Well, okay-ish."

Y/N sank shakily onto the couch, knees wobbly with relief just from hearing his voice. "Where are you? What happened after they took you off the ice?"

"Still at the arena." Jack's measured inhale hissed across the line. "Got checked out by the trainers...possible fracture or two and lots of swelling. They want me to go get fully examined at the hospital though, make sure there's no internal bleeding or anything."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/N willed back the frightened tears pricking her eyes. Jack sounded pained but coherent — a good sign. "I'm coming to the hospital right now."

"No, no don't do that." Jack's tone softened, taking on that tender, coaxing quality he knew could instantly soothe her. "I'm gonna get all checked out and as soon as they clear me, I'll come straight to you. Just want to curl up on that cozy couch, eat something greasy, and cuddle my favorite girl, okay?"

A tremulous smile curved Y/N's lips at the thought, warmth blossoming in her chest. Even when injured, Jack knew just what to say to calm her raging emotions. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

"I know you will, baby." The smile was evident in his voice now. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Maybe, uh, just prepare yourself to be smothered in kisses in advance?"

Y/N huffed out a watery chuckle, swiping at the dampness on her cheeks. "I'll get the first aid kit ready, tough guy. Just...take care of yourself first, okay?”

The call disconnected with a soft click. Setting the phone aside, Y/N took a deep, steadying breath, absently cradling her belly once more. Jack would be home soon — bruised and battered, but mercifully not catastrophically injured.

…

2:35am

After a grueling two days in the hospital, Jack was finally released, his body aching but his heart longing for the comfort of home and the warmth of Y/N's embrace. He drove through the quiet streets, the anticipation building with every mile that brought him closer to her.

It was late when he arrived at her home, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the windows. He crept silently through the door, careful not to wake Y/N who he assumed was already in bed. As he made his way to their bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at the sight that greeted him.

Y/N lay curled up on their bed, her laptop still open beside her, the screen illuminating her peaceful face. Jack's heart swelled with love as he watched her, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He knew she must have been waiting up for him, working on her novel to distract herself from her worry.

Quietly, he changed into his pajamas and eased himself into bed beside her, pulling the covers over them both, the soft fabric enveloping them in a cocoon of warmth and comfort. he settled in, gently wrapping his arm around Y/N's waist, pulling her close to his chest.

Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she felt Jack's presence. "Jack?" she mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and heavy with exhaustion.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "Go back to sleep, my love."

Y/N sighed contentedly, snuggling back into Jack's embrace. She intertwined her fingers with his, reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around her. He wanted to wake up to her beautiful face every morning.

With that thought in mind, he pulled her even closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her comforting scent. Tomorrow, he would surprise her with the news of the romantic getaway he had planned, a chance for them to escape the chaos of their lives and focus on nothing but each other.

…

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