#but I worry a lot and I just hope that this works out for the crew at least

[missnxthingg]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.2 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing and smut! (skip if you want to) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - One more chapter to go and I REALLY hope this one is like... me predicting the future 🤞 And if you want to skip the smut part, I put it on italics, so don't worry about missing it!

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Race weekends in Zandvoort always make Y/N very anxious, because everyone knew the owner of the house is Max Verstappen. No driver had such power over the crowd of fans on the grandstands of the Netherlands than the leader of Red Bull Racing. But this year, the sea of orange – that most definitely weren’t for McLaren this time – was the last thing making her nervous.

Her relationship with Lando had barely started, and this would be the first race they attended as an official couple, even though not a lot of people really know about it. On the past week, they took their time to enjoy the last days of summer break and enjoy being together. But now, they were finally stepping out of the safeness of their home to start going out into the public as a couple. People would start to acknowledge their relationship.

It wasn’t the type of thing you tell through the internet to close people around you. Lando got to tell his best friends, including Max, through one last golfing session before the break was over. Y/N revealed to her parents once they came around to stay with Olivia for the weekend, so she could work. But their team and the public didn’t really know about it, and it was making her more nervous than anything in life.

“Fuck me, this is hard”, she cursed as she stepped into the paddock with the sensation that everyone had their eyes on her, as if she had a big bad secret to tell them all.

“Y/N, meeting with the drivers in fifteen”, Steve, her boss, called once he spotted her walking past him. That would be the first time she would be in the same room with her boyfriend and their entire team after summer break, and she was nervous, because she knew Lando wouldn’t behave around them.

As much as Y/N was being careful to protect their relationship from everyone, he didn’t really care who knew about them. And of course the first thing he did when she entered the McLaren motorhome was press a long kiss to her cheek.

People around them frowned. Not that they didn’t know about Lando and Y/N close friendship, it was just that they rarely showed their affection for each other inside the work environment – except for big racing achievements.

“Morning, baby”, he mumbled, pulling her for a hug before the start of the meeting. Lando had left the hotel earlier for training with Jon, so they still hadn’t seen each other today. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a little anxious, but it was alright”, she kept her voice low as they had their casual and wholesome conversation in the corner, ignoring people’s staring. “And you?”

“I always sleep well next to you”, he winked before pulling a chair for her to seat at their meeting room. 

Everyone around them wanted to say something about what they were seeing. And surprising enough, Oscar was the first one to address the elephant in the room, after ten minutes of Lando and Y/N pretending it was all just the same.

“You two are together, aren’t you?”, the Australian asked, and Y/N had to hide her face between her hands in order to hide her embarrassment as well. “Fucking knew it”.

“We just started dating”, Lando started, ignoring the entire conversation they were having a minute ago about the press conference he was going to participate.

“And I was waiting for the right moment to tell you all, but Mr Norris can’t keep his hands to himself”, Y/N completed, making her boyfriend chuckle with the response.

“You all owe me dinner”, Zak stated, making the entire team laugh and the couple frown at their reactions. “We all knew you’ve been together since Miami. We were just waiting for the time you made it official”.

“See! I told you weren’t careful with your hugging and kissing around the paddock”, Y/N smacked Lando’s bicep, making him hiss in pain. “Great, this definitely not how I wanted everyone to find out about this”.

“But it isn’t so bad, is it?”, Lando questioned, not only the team, but Y/N as well. “You don’t need to be afraid about this being public”.

Y/N glanced at him and her eyes said it all, that the conversation still wasn’t over, because there were things she wanted to say away from everyone else. But she continued with her discourse: “If you think this is unprofessional or that it will mess with his PR, I can step away from the team”.

“Nonsense”, Zak laughed, joined by her other boss. “If anything, you make his PR better. And people absolutely love you as well. So as long as it doesn’t mess with the team results, I don’t see a problem with you staying with McLaren, Y/N”.

“And you two have always been very professional whenever you’re wearing papaya. So we know you’ll continue being respectful at work”.

It still didn’t make Y/N relax that now everyone knew about them. She still had hundreds of thoughts about people knowing about their relationship, because she had lived through Lando’s past relationships, to which the public had made sure to ruin with their online activity.

“Is that why you’re anxious?”, he asked once they were alone in his driver’s room, and she voiced her concerns to her boyfriend. “Y/N, I love you. And this time, I don’t think anyone will have the ability to ruin this for us, not even online haters”.

“But…”, she tried to justify her worries once again, but she ran out of breath, having to take a seat on his tiny couch to breathe. Lando sat next to her and held her hands between his, so they could have a heart-to-heart conversation.

“I know relationships are scary, especially one so public like ours, but I promise you that I will do anything to protect you. To protect us”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile for a second. “And I don’t want to hide you, my love. You know I’ve never wanted to do this”.

“I still worry a lot about what people will think about this”, she admitted, and he understood her side. “I’m a single mother. I’m a coworker. You know exactly what some people think about me. All of this can turn out to be very bad for us”.

“I can assure you that people whose opinion matters will not care about any of this”, he said, letting one of his hands find her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in comfort. “I love you. Nothing will ever change this”.

“I love you too”.

Y/N found it funny how much trusting someone can make you more confident with time. After that conversation with Lando, she wasn’t afraid of telling people anymore. So when she learned that he had told his parents, when both showed up for the race in Zandvoort, she didn’t worry about their reaction – which was really good, for that matter.

“Now I can finally admit it to you, Y/N. I’ve always rooted for you and Lando”, Cisca said to her, as they watched one of his free practices together. “I was the first person to know he was in love with you, by the way. Mothers always know, and you’ll see it”.

“Did he tell you first?”

“Yes”, she smiled softly.”When he was twenty. But I knew it before any words came out of his mouth. He has been down bad for you since you met, and I could see it in his eyes. So I’m glad he finally got the girl of his dreams.

“I’m glad too”, Y/N smiled at Cisca before taking a quick glance at the television in the garage. Lando had just set the best time on the session, taking the first position on the grid. “You know, I was nervous about people’s reactions. Specially those who are very important to him”.

“Worried about what, my love?”

“That people would think I’m only using him”, Y/N admitted. “I know what people say about me online. While some people think our friendship is really cute, others think I’m only using him for his money to raise my daughter. But I swear that I’m not”.

“Well, I know that you’re not using him. And so does Adam, his siblings, Max, your friends. Everyone that matters know you’re with him because you love him. And they know that everything Lando does for you and Olivia is because he loves you too”.

“Yeah, he told me that”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “And all my insecurities went away”.

“And by the way, it’s always funny to see a little girl bossing him around like I saw in Silverstone”, Cisca laughed, remembering all the times she saw then interact at his home race. “He loves her so much, since she was born, you know? He has always said that his biggest wish was to be the father Olivia never had. And I think he’ll be just great doing that”.

“I think so too”, Y/N admitted. “He has been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t have named a better godfather for Ollie. He said to me that he wanted to be in this position for her, and so far, he’s been great at owning up to his words”.

“I’m glad I taught him very well to do that”, his mother laughed. “So don’t worry about people. Everyone that actually matters will always have your back”.

“Thank you, Cisca. It means a lot, really”.

While it made things easier for Y/N to accept being public with Lando, letting things flow naturally, his ‘PR problem’ ass wasn’t helping on keeping it a secret from anyone. Because of the amazing weekend he was having, he didn’t really care if anyone saw his affection towards his girlfriend. Starting from pole, he arrived at the paddock on the weekend and immediately found her so they could walk with his arm around her shoulder, right in front of all the photographers and fans.

“I swear to God that if you end up exposing us too soon, or in the wrong way, I’m going to kill you”, she whispered. “Or worse, I’m going to break up with you”.

“That’s definitely worse, babe. At least I would’ve died knowing you were my girlfriend”, he giggled, pulling her inside the motorhome, away from everyone’s eyes. “And people need to start getting used to us being a couple. I don’t want to hide you to the world. You’re my girlfriend and I want everyone to know”.

“Lando, please, we talked about this…”, she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. Lucky enough, they were alone inside the motorhome, a rare occasion on Sundays. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I win today, will you let me hard launch us?”, he asked, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, does it matter if we do a soft or a hard launch? Everyone has always rooted for us. And I think that if I win, then it’s the Universe giving us a go”.

“Lando, you’re on fucking pole. There’s a very big chance you end up winning today”.

“But you very much know that pole position has never guaranteed me anything”, he joked, knowing very much about his reputation with race starts. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Alright. If you win today, then I’ll let you tell everyone about us. But if you don’t win, then we’re doing things my way”, she pointed a finger at his face, making Lando open his signature boyish smile before taking her hand away from his face and pulling her for another kiss. 

“Deal”, he winked, already thinking he would do anything in his power to make sure he won today. He didn’t care who he would have to take off the race to get a chance at winning, he had to get this win for them both.

Later that day, when Lando lost the lead before the first corner, Y/N thought she had her answer for the day. Of course, Max Verstappen would win in his home race, it was obvious. But when he easily overtook him and finished the race twenty-second ahead of the three time world champion, she knew the Universe was throwing a big message at their faces.

She sighed in defeat when Lando opened the last lap, and teared up when he finally crossed the finishing line, so proud of his achievement. It was the green light they’ve been waiting for so long in their relationship. Then, she got to hear the last radio message of the race through her headphones, through the cooldown lap, one that made her laugh.

“Tell Y/N that a deal is a deal”, Lando said. “She’ll understand it”.

She shook her head in disbelief, but was already accepting that this was happening. The whole world was about to know about them. So she joined his parents to wait for Lando at the parc fermé, and they all cheered a lot when he parked his bright papaya McLaren in the winner’s position. He rushed his way out of the car and jumped into his team's arms, eyes already looking for Y/N through his visor. After the weighting, he finally removed his helmet and rushed to his girlfriend. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a big kiss in front of everyone. In front of every camera, every journalist and every fan present on the track. He didn't care about anyone or anything else, just about this girl.

“A deal is a deal”, he whispered against her lips, making her entire face burn in embarrassment.

“When you said ‘hard launch’, I thought you meant an Instagram story with a cute caption”.

“Uhm… not really my way of doing things”, he shrugged with a smile, moving onto his parents, who were excitedly waiting for their turn to hug him. It felt so good to have family there to cheer for him. This race, after so many bad ones, didn't feel so lonely.

But as much as Lando just wanted to be with his family, he still had a lot of duties to do after the race, including the podium celebration and the media duties afterwards. He still couldn’t get his hands off Y/N, always having his arms wrapped around her somehow as they walked along the paddock to everywhere he was required to be.

“If someone gets mad about the hard launch, I’m putting it into your account, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine and me winning proves that. We let the Universe decide the timing for us and it did”, he shrugged. “I’m just happy to finally tell everyone that you’re mine”

“Did you push your car to the limit just to win the race for us?”, she frowned.

“Wish I could say I did, but the McLaren was a rocketship today. It really was just faith”, he assured with a smile. "Every piece of this puzzle fell perfectly into place. Now we just have to enjoy it”.

Of course, the entire media wanted to know about this. Normally, some vehicles don’t get too much into the drivers’ personal lives, but since Lando kissed her in the middle of the track, right after winning a race, it would be interesting for them to have a quote about who’s the mysterious girl wearing a McLaren shirt that he kissed in the middle of the track. The journalists all knew her, since Y/N was always by Lando’s side through every media duty, but the world was about to really get to know her.

“I don’t have a lot to say about that”, Lando shrugged when one of the reporters asked about the kiss. “I won, and I was happy, and I kissed my girlfriend who was there to celebrate it with me. Not a big deal at all, except or the fact that now everyone knows she’s my girlfriend”, he chuckled.

Y/N, who was standing right next to him holding her own microphone to record all the conversations for McLaren, felt like she was about to burst into flames for embarrassment. She could only imagine the internet burning up videos and comments as well. Maybe she should stay away from social media for a couple of days.

“So McLaren’s golden boy is no longer single now?”, the reporter asked.

“Yeah”, Lando giggled. “And they say I got no rizz. Yet, I got the most perfect girl to cheer for me at every race”.

Later that day, after all the team celebrations and his duties with the media team, they left the paddock hand in hand, right next to his parents. Lando didn’t want it to be a big celebration this time, because there was no point for it. He just wanted to have dinner with his family and enjoy the rest of the night with Y/N.

“I think I’m having déjà vu from Miami”, he whispered in her ear as they approached his car, making Y/N laugh. “Come on, I’m serious”.

“As if you weren’t going to get it”, Y/N joked. “And I think it will be good to finally have some time alone for once. I love Ollie, but I think we deserve some time alone for now”.

“We’re already behaving like an old married couple”, he chuckled, and lowered his voice once again. “But yeah, it will be nice to not be quiet for once”.

“You’re pathetic”, she laughed, but deep down he knew she agreed with him.

The dinner celebration was filled with laughter and joy, with both of them having a fun meal with Adam and Cisca, who were getting to see them as a couple for the first time in their lives. They expressed how much they were glad to finally see them together, loving to see the smile on their son’s face for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N”, Adam said, as they were saying their goodbyes after dinner. The couple would be leaving for England tonight. “You have always taken care of him, but I know this time is different. I know you make him the happiest”.

“It’s so easy to love your son”, she admitted. “So you don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you for raising such a good man”.

“Stop! I’m blushing over here”, Lando commented as he hugged his mother. “You silly idiots love me, I know. I love you all, too”.

He was over the moon with the ending of this weekend. When they arrived back at the hotel, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. She tried making her skincare routine, taking off the uncomfortable clothes to slip into bed, but he kept kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth.

“You look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented, his lips close to her ear, as she felt her entire body shiver with his contact. Y/N was wearing a see-through nightgown that she packed specially for this trip, because she knew that no matter the result, they would be alone at night for the first time in a while. 

His hands ran through her entire body and Lando was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear when he put his hands under her dress. He gasped when they found her unclothed core.

“Oh my God, you're getting reckless”, he giggled, turning her around as she put her arms around his neck. “Am I taking you down the wrong path?”

“I've always been like this, muppet. Now, you get to see this new side of me”, she nudged his nose, making him smile brightly. 

“I like this new side of you”, he pecked her lips once again before pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lando and Y/N were loving to take their time together, instead of sneaking around the house and not taking too long to have sex because of Olivia. But now they didn't have a little girl to bother them in such intimate moments. They savoured each other's lips and enjoyed moments of silence, filled only and exclusively by their kisses noises.

She palmed him through his pants during the kiss, making Lando moan between their lips. Y/N felt him growing hard, so she slipped a hand inside his trousers, making him moan louder this time.

“Baby”, he called as she started massaging his cock. “Fuck, don’t stop”.

“I wasn't planning to”.

Y/N turned him around, straddling his hips, only to easily take his shirt off. While she didn't work his cock with her hand, her hips were doing their job as they made out a little more.

“Do you want to take my nightie off?”, she asked, and Lando quickly nodded, pulling the dress off her body, making his lips immediately find her nipples. Y/N rocked her hips against his, doing circular movements, as she felt him harder than a rock under her core.

“Please, I need you”, he asked, throwing his head back into the pillow with the pressure on his cock.

“I got you, my love”.

Y/N started kissing down his chest, paying attention to his nipples as well, knowing everything in his body was highly sensitive at the moment. She lowered her kisses to his belly, until her lips found the hem of his trousers and boxers. She darted her eyes up, meeting him halfway, as she provoked him with the kisses. When she managed to pull off his last pieces of clothes that were keeping them apart, her hands immediately found a grip on his cock.

“So beautiful”, she complimented, making him blush under her comment. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love”.

She lowered her head to get closer to his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip. Her eyes looked up and they found Lando's, who was attentively watching her every move. His hands brushed through her tongue and soon gathered her hair in a ponytail, taking it out of the way so he could see her better.

Y/N found it very hot when she finally put him inside her mouth and Lando let out a surprisingly loud moan. She bobbed her head up and down, his noises only making her keep going with her job. Eventually, he started thrusting his hips into her mouth a little, desperately chasing for his high. But afraid of hurting his girlfriend, he kept his strength to himself.

“I don't want you to hold back”, Y/N said, popping his dick out of her mouth, still stroking him with her hands. “Tonight, I want to feel everything, please”.

“Fuck, you're driving me insane”, Lando sat straight, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting a little bit of himself on her mouth. “Get on your knees on the floor, beautiful”.

Y/N did as she was told, and he stood up from the bed, putting a hand on the base of his cock and using the other one to caress her face.

“Open your mouth, baby girl”, he brushed the tip of his dick through her lips as she looked up so innocently at him. But then she opened it wide, knowing he had a big cock, so she could take all of him. “My good girl. Gonna take all of me in your mouth, uhm? Don't want me to hold back?”

Lando’s cock was already deep inside her throat and Y/N tried her best not to gag at how big he was. He only stopped with the rough pace when he felt his dick spilling cum inside her throat, panting her on the inside with a little piece of him. Once he was empty, Lando left her mouth open on the floor and paid attention to the white liquid on her tongue, to which she swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Fucking hell”, he cursed, pulling her back up so he could kiss her again. “You're so fucking sexy, my girl. You did so good”.

“Now please do something to help me, because I'm dripping”.

Lando had gone a little soft again, but with a little more time, he would be ready to go again. This only gave him more time to make Y/N enjoy herself. And after weeks discovering her body like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly what she liked him to do.

“Come on, I'll take care of my good girl, because she's been so good today”, he pressed kisses to her cheek before shoving her back to bed. If she wanted it rough, she would have it. And Y/N loved when he altered between soft and dom in bed.

She could feel his thick fingers working in circles on her clit as he intensively flipped, bite, sucked and kissed her nipples, one of the most sensitive areas of her body. 

“I want to try something different today”, he said, pulling a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her eyes, as some sort of blindfold. Then, he took a little surprise out of his bag; handcuffs, to which she only found out when he felt the coldness of the metal against the skin of her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard. Now, her senses were solely focused on touching.

“You're being so bold today”.

“I know how to obey my girlfriend when she says she doesn't want me to hold back”, he shrugged, making her entire body shiver with only the words.

Lando was quiet for a moment, and it seemed like he went somewhere else in the room, taking a very long time before he did anything to her, leaving her naked in bed, legs wide open for his pleasure. Then suddenly, she felt fingers doing circles on her clit again, this time taking the slowest time to provoke her. Then she felt his hot tongue going through her cunt, which made her moan loudly. But the licking was just a spoiler, and the entrance plate was his fingers, who started pumping in and out of her roughly, then curling at the right spot inside of her. It felt so good to the point she could feel her high coming and coming and…

Nothing. Lando pulled his fingers away from her, leaving her squirming alone in bed. She whined at the loss of contact and almost cried to have her orgasm ruined, not getting to do anything about it because of the handcuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lando, I need to fucking cum ”, she cried. “Please, I'm so close”.

The next round, Lando settled between her legs and ate her pussy as if his life depended on it. Y/N wanted more than anything to see him going down on her, to touch his fluff hair that was brushing deliciously against her tights. The only thing she could do was lock him close to her with her tights. Still, it didn't keep him from pulling away just as she was about to reach her high again.

“What the fuck, Lando? Why are you doing this to me?”, she whined, missing the contact on her core, wanting her release. 

“Haven’t you heard of edging, baby?”, he asked. “I'm making sure you're good to cum as hard as you can when the time comes”.

"You're bad", she cried, making him smile at her, even though she couldn't see him at all. 

He squeezed her hips and reassured: "Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this later”

Lando softly brushed his fingers against her sensitive core, and Y/N bucked her hips towards his fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel something more. And he obeyed. For a good thirty minutes, he spent between her legs, edging her in ways he never thought he could. But one time, when he was already feeling his cock rock hard and ready to go again, he didn't pull away when he felt her pussy clenching around his fingers as he used his tongue to stimulate her clit.

Y/N came harder than she had ever done in her life, making Lando's face soaking wet. And still, he made sure to lick all of it, making her clean for the next step. When he came back from her tights and removed her blindfold, Lando had a smug smile on his face, proud of his work.

"God, you're soaked", she laughed, and then it dawned on her why his face was wet. "Oh God, did I…?”.

"Squirt? I think so", he said with a proud smile. "I didn't know you could do that”.

"I didn't know I could do that", Y/N admitted, making Lando smile wider. 

"Oh, I'm so proud of myself right now”, he laughed, running his thumb through his mouth to collect the rest of her juices, only to put it on his mouth to taste her again. 

“Ugh, men…”, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smirk, and watched him undo the ties on her wrists, making her arms finally come back down. “Thank God, I was sore”.

“Sorry, baby. Promise to go easy on you now”, he pressed a few kisses to her face, making her heart swell in adoration. How could this man be so sexy and cute at the same time?

“Uhm, I love you”, she ran her fingers through his hair, making him smile widely.

“I love you too”, their lips met in a sweet kiss, shifting the mood in the bedroom1

Lando pressed kisses to every inch of her skin and massaged her arms, making sure she was soothed and well rested for another round. And of course the massages turned into another heated makeout, that ended up with Lando positioned between her legs, their cores brushing together, as they slowly kissed in the calmness of their room.

“Wanna be inside you”, he mumbled, taking his cock once again and brushing the tip around his clit, making Y/N whimper.

"Please", she asked, making him push it inside her the next second. And even after all this time, YN still couldn't get over the feeling of having him stretching her in all sorts of good ways. And he was still surprised how they fitted like two puzzle pieces.

"So wet for me, baby. I prepared you well", Lando praised, smiling at the work he had done earlier. "I can go in so easy on you, fuck”.

Y/N refused to get away from Lando tonight, even though they always loved to try new positions. She just wanted to be close to him, be able to see his fare from up close, lean up and kiss him. She hugged his body and dug her fingers on the skin of his back, scratching him up.

“You feeling good, baby? Talk to me. What do you want?”, Lando asked and Y/N had to control her breathing to be able to talk to him.

"Harder, please", she put one of her hands between her legs to stimulate her clit, trying to chase her high once again. He caught her action and substituted her hand with his, picking up his pace.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good", he moaned. "God, I'm so lucky”.

"The luckiest", she smiled at him, loving to see him from that angle, eyes shut in pleasure and solely focusing on her body. The coat of sweat over his body and the flexing of his arms as he held her tightly only made him even more beautiful. She was so lucky too. 

"I'm close", he announced, but even though Y/N was feeling great, she still wasn't close to her high. 

"Switch", she asked, making Lando frown and drop his pace.

"What?”

"Switch positions, please”.

Lando likes to be on top, in control all the time, and so far, he has always been the one in control When he was with Y/N. Still, when she asked for this change, he didn't complain. Trying new things with her is always amazing.

And to be fair, he got on the verge of cumming when he saw her on top of him, now calling the shots, working on the pace that was best for her. Lando got a grip on her ass to help her steady and one of his hands helped stimulate her clit once again. 

"Now I'm close. Are you close, baby?”, she asked, but all Lando could do was nod and moan her name. 

It didn't take long until they reached their high and Y/N collapsed on top of him. Lando felt his cock going soft while still inside her, but they were too tired to move. She pressed a few tired kisses on his chest, making him smile at the gesture. It made his stomach fill with butterflies, like she has always done since they met.

"If a victory sex is amazing, I can only imagine what a championship sex will feel like", he said, making her chuckle.

"Absolutely amazing", she said. "So you better get that trophy for us”

"Don't know if I can do that, Y/N", he admitted. “I’m scared this might be my only chance and that I'm wasting it away, throwing victories like this on the trash. And that, in the future, I won't have the same opportunity once again”.

"Don't let these thoughts get to you, cause I know you're doing your best. And if you end up second place in the championship, it's alright too. I will love you no matter what. And we'll have an amazing vice championship sex in a nice hotel room in Abu Dhabi".

He smiled fondly at her response and started his aftercare routine immediately after, putting her in the shower, because they were a mess, while he changed the bed into spare sheets, so they could sleep somewhere clean. Soon he joined her on their quick shower, only to get back to bed once again to rest from their full day.

"I love you so much", he said, now that they were back to cuddling in bed. “You make me the happiest. I'm so lucky to have you in my life”.

"I love you too, baby. I love you and your random confessions of love", she kissed the tip of his nose, making his heart rush. "I love everything about you”.

"Even my flaws?”

"Even your flaws. And I'll be here with you until the end".

"Come on, baby. Let uncle Lando carry you”.

Olivia was sitting in the back of his car, sleepy to be woken up from her afternoon nappie before the race and not really in the mood to be around the paddock today. Sometimes, Y/N thinks she’s too much like Lando, who also absolutely hates to be woken up from his naps. It didn’t matter if they were, finally, in Abu Dhabi, anticipating not only their first December as a family, but also Norris’ great chances of winning the championship, to which he had managed to drag to the last race.

He wanted Ollie to be there for this one. Actually, his entire family was there to celebrate it with him; his siblings and nieces – who were all having a great time with Olivia –, his parents, his best friends; and, most importantly, both of the loves of his life, who have been his biggest support throughout the year.

Lando carried his goddaughter through the paddock, as she continued her nap on his shoulder. Y/N walked beside them, no longer scared of what the public would think. Even since their hard launching in Zandvoort, his fans have been nothing but supportive for their relationship. Who truly was his fan knew how much she and her daughter meant to him, so they defended the couple from any harm.

Also, Y/N stood beside him because she knew today would be a hard day. The championship was still at stake, and Lando would need all the support he could get from her. Since yesterday, when he got the last pole position of the season, he hasn't let go off her hand for a second; not even now, that they still had a long walk through the paddock with him carrying Ollie on his arm. Last night, they all cuddled together in bed, only for him to wake up surrounded by his favourite people.

“You good?”, Y/N asked once they were in his driver's room. Flo, one of his sisters, was there as well and would be keeping an eye on Ollie while they did their respective jobs on track.

“Yes”, Lando smiled at her. “I thought I would be more terrified and nervous, but I'm actually alright. Whatever has to happen, will happen”.

“That’s my boy”, Y/N pulled him for a kiss on the cheek, making him blush with the gesture. “Flo, are you alright here with Ollie? I promise she won't be out for long, and if she is, you can wake her up and go to the garage”.

“Don't worry about it, Y/N. Go do your jobs and I'll take care of my niece”, Flo winked at Lando, who blushed harder at the nickname, feeling a tingle of pride on his chest. Every reminder that he had the girl of his dreams beside him was enough to make him giggly like a little boy.

“Then off we go to those interviews, my boy”.

Lando had only a few pre-race interviews and media duties before getting to concentrate on the race. After that, he solely focused on getting calm, knowing everything about tonight was under his control.

“Someone wants to see you before you get in the car”, Cisca announced, entering the garage where her son was talking to his engineers, with Olivia in her arms. His eyes softened to see her, with a beautiful smile on his face.

“Good luck, uncle Lando”, she leaned into his arms and he easily got a grip of her tiny body, pulling her for a hug. He felt her lips pressing over and over again on his cheek, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“Thank you. I love you so much, my sweet girl”, his voice bargained on his throat, but he was strong enough to contain his emotions.

Y/N was just passing through the garage when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her, so she rushed to join their hug, making Ollie giggle. Lando pulled his girlfriend for a sweet kiss as she smiled against his lips.

“Baby, I love you so much”, she said. “And I'll be cheering as much as I can with this little one right here”.

“I'm glad to have you both here. Tonight is a little more special because I have my entire family here. Nothing could ever beat this feeling”.

“Don't get emotional now, you wanker. Get in that car and make us proud!”, Y/N joked, making Lando laugh. 

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. Hopefully with two trophies for us”, he pressed another kiss to Y/N's lips and one more on Ollie's forehead before giving the little girl back to her mother. “I love you”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan”.

Y/N could barely breathe once Lando was inside the car. She held tightly onto Olivia, who seemed to get the tense mood, not being the giggly and excited self whenever she was on a race track. But Norris did well, held his pole position perfectly, but it was still challenging for him to keep it throughout the race. Yet, on the last lap, he had an eight-second gap from P2 and was first to see the checkered flag. P1 – and fastest lap, as a bonus.

Lando Norris is a World Champion.

Y/N had been crying for the last ten laps of the race, knowing deep inside her that he was going to do this. The perfect race to end the perfect year. Olivia raised her spirits through the race as well, shouting for Lando and excitedly clapping her hands, jumping up and down, whenever he did good. Domination, from beginning to the end. What a way to win a championship.

Lando shouted a lot on the radio and celebrated it a lot when he was out of the car. But he only allowed himself to cry when he finally saw Y/N, crying at his achievement, clearly very emotional with the ending of the year. So many years battling for this moment, and yet here they are. It’s impossible not to get emotional at this. 

He held very tightly onto his girlfriend as they silently cried together, too emotional to even think about speaking. Y/N was the first one to break the silence, making Lando cry even more, dawning on him the achievement he just conquered.

“Congratulations, World Champion Lando Norris”, she whispered in his ear. “You finally did”.

“We finally did it”, he corrected, pulling back from the hug and holding her face between his hands. “We. I couldn’t have done it without you”.

“I love you so much”, she declared, pulling him for a kiss on the cheek, that made him smile widely. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You deserve all of this, all this glory, everything”.

“So do you”, he pecked her lips for a brief second and smile. “I love you too”.

“Uncle Lando!”, a little voice called from behind them, and Olivia was rushing towards him with Max right behind her, not getting to keep their hands together as they walked through the crowd. Lando immediately extended his arms to pull Ollie from behind the fence to hug him. “You won!”

“I won, baby girl. Did you see it? Uncle Lan did this for you”, he bumped her nose, making her smile. Ollie whipped away his tears to give him a kiss. “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so glad you were here to see me win”.

“I love you too”.

Lando pulled Y/N closer so they could share a group hug and never felt so at peace. This year, he got everything he ever wished for: a family of his own and the glory of being a Formula 1 World Champion. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he knew it couldn’t. If he died tomorrow, he knew he would go happily, knowing he achieved everything he ever wanted in life.

“You need to go to the podium”, Y/N whispered in his ear, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle. “Lando, they are going to get me killed”.

“Shut up, just a second longer”, he buried his face in her neck, making her shiver in contact with his breathing on her skin. “I think I earned the privilege of having a few more seconds with my family right now”.

But Lando was soon dragged to the podium, not before he hugged his parents, siblings and friends though. Lucky enough, they got to postpone the ceremony for a few minutes, just so he could meet everyone that mattered before the podium. Eventually, he had to go get his trophy. And while he was standing on the top step of the podium, watching the crowd cheer for his first championship, he wondered what the next challenge would be. More wins? A second championship? 

“Now, what?”, he whispered to himself.

Once glance at Y/N and Olivia, right on the ground, filming him as the British National Anthem played in the background, he knew what the future reserved for him. And he already enjoyed it.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 ����𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[svt-luna]

heyyyy, i was wondering how would luna and hannie react to eachother being sick/ mobbed by fans.i am sure the members are very protective over luna but hannie will be extra protective and always be attentive over luna for each and every stuff. Protective boyfie hannie sounda cuteeeeee. my heart 💞 💜

𝜗℘ NOTHING MATTERS BUT YOU

synopsis: When exhaustion and vulnerability collide, Jeonghan's quiet devotion proves that even in the midst of chaos, only one thing truly matters.

warnings: slight angst, sick!Luna, cursing, crying, fatigue, flu, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of vomiting, claustrophobia, mobs, paparazzi, frustration, doubts, mentions of hate, overall fluff, boyfriend material!Jeonghan, fluff, fluff, fluff, more tooth-rotting fluff, a rollercoaster of emotions, posted on Hannie’s enlistment (might invoke crying because of that fact.)

I’ve been getting a lot of sick!Luna requests so I have mixed all the ideas given to me in this one-shot, so I hope you guys love it 🤍 also the songs I was listening to on a loop as I was writing this are: ‘nothing matters but you’, ‘pov’, ‘imperfect for you’, and ‘sweet nothing’— so you can listen to those songs if you want!!

also, I purposely waited to post this till this very day 🥹 I really hope it gives you comfort for this dreaded day… Hannie might be gone for a while but I hope my posts make up for it (this is how I cope) 🤍

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

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pounding.

Luna couldn’t tell if it was coming from the deep ache in her head, the constant pounding in her ears from the screams surrounding them, or the heavy thud of her own footsteps against the tiled floor.

Maybe it was all of them all together.

Each beat seemed to blur into the next, a constant, overwhelming drum that wouldn’t let her think clearly.

All fourteen members of SEVENTEEN moved in unison through the airport on their way to LA for KCON 2019, security guiding them toward their gate. Flanked by bodyguards, they were shielded from the sea of fans pressing in, screaming their names, reaching out to touch them, phones held high to capture a fleeting moment.

Ahead of her walked Seungcheol, their leader, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a steady force. Behind her, Jeonghan’s footsteps echoed close, his presence always within reach, always steady.

But none of it helped the dull throb pulsing through her temples. Luna’s head was killing her. The flashes from the cameras set up by the media didn’t help either; each flicker of light sent sharp jolts through her skull, making her stomach churn with nausea.

She was sick— she knew that much.

It had been building for days, the flu creeping up on her from the constant traveling, the back-to-back practice sessions and the late nights spent rehearsing until her body couldn’t take it anymore. But now, walking in between her members, with hundreds of eyes watching her every move, she had to keep it together.

At least she’s dressed great— that’s what Luna told herself to keep her spirits up… it really wasn't working. Fashionable as ever, she was dressed in her usual chic, comfy airport style, but today her outfit served more than just looks. The oversized fluffy bucket hat cast a shadow over her eyes, concealing the exhaustion in them, while the face mask helped hide the pallor of her skin and the grimace that threatened to show every time her head pounded.

Normally, Luna would wave at the fans, offer a smile, or maybe even pose for a photo. But today, she only managed a few weak waves before lowering her head again, hoping the fans would think she was just sleepy and not worry about her health.

The closer they got to the gate, the tighter the space seemed to become.

Luna lifted her head slightly, catching sight of the crowd pressing in. Fans were pushing to get a glimpse, their hands outstretched, desperate to touch any part of the group, and security was doing their best to hold them back.

Her flu plus the noise, the lights, and the bodies crowding in— it all felt suffocating.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Luna's chest tightened as her breath quickened, each inhale feeling shallow and unsatisfying.

Normally, in moments like this, Luna would do her breathing exercises. She’d ground herself, focus on something steady, and calm her racing heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But today, everything felt wrong.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her body was tired, too tired to fight back the waves of anxiety threatening to consume her.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her vision blurred slightly, and the pounding grew louder, and harsher until she finally understood— this pounding wasn’t just in her head.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, a beat so hard and fast it felt like it would burst out of her.

Behind her, Jeonghan was watching her every move, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

He saw the way she stilled for just a split second, the way her shoulders tensed as if bracing for something. He noticed how her hands, usually loose and graceful at her sides, were now clenched into fists, her breathing too fast, too shallow.

His gaze sharpened further, worry etching into his features. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hand finding hers, prying her fingers open gently. His touch was soft, but firm, as he intertwined his fingers with hers, rubbing small, soothing circles into her palm.

“You’re okay, Nana-ya. Just breathe,” he whispered softly, his voice low and steady, meant only for her. “We’re almost there. Focus on me, okay? Count with me if you need to.”

His words cut through the chaos in her mind, his voice the one steady thing she could hold on to. She closed her eyes briefly, grounding herself in the feel of his hand, the warmth of his touch, the familiar and comforting scent of his perfume, and the soothing rhythm of his voice.

“One step at a time,” Jeonghan continued, his thumb still stroking the back of her hand. “We’ll be at the gate soon. You can rest once we get there.”

He kept talking, his words a careful balance of distraction and comfort, pulling her mind away from the overwhelming noise and back to him.

Slowly, Luna’s breathing began to even out, her heartbeat returning to a more manageable pace. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, leaving her more exhausted than before.

She leaned into Jeonghan slightly, letting herself rest against him, her safe space, as they finally reached their gate, away from the crowd, away from the cameras.

Once they reached the private lounge, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward a plush couch near the floor-to-ceiling windows, the vast expanse of the airport runway visible just beyond. The planes, a mix of sleek white and metal gray, dotted the tarmac, and the low hum of activity outside served as a soothing backdrop compared to the chaos they’d just escaped.

Jeonghan’s hand never left hers, their fingers intertwined as she waddled beside him, each step slow and tired. She was beyond exhausted, her body heavy with sickness, yet Jeonghan’s touch anchored her, guiding her through the fog of her fatigue.

When they reached the couch, he helped her settle down, his touch as gentle as always. As soon as Luna sank into the cushions, her body practically melted into the soft fabric. She turned her head, laying it against Jeonghan’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

The cool glass window before her framed the scene outside— the luggage carts moving in their organized chaos, the steady movements of the ground crew— but she barely registered any of it.

Luna just needed a moment to breathe.

Jeonghan’s presence next to her was grounding, his shoulder warm and solid beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes again, gaze trained on the ramp and the plane in front of them, trying to focus on anything but the ache still pounding in her temples. The rhythmic movements of the airport outside, the planes being loaded, gave her something to latch onto, something to quiet her racing thoughts.

The members gathered in the lounge, scattered on the surrounding couches and chairs. At first glance, they seemed relaxed, chatting in low voices, but the way their eyes kept flicking over to Luna didn’t go unnoticed. They knew she was sick— had seen it on her face for days— but now, seeing the weariness settle in her features, they realized how much tired she looked.

Dino, the youngest, opened his mouth as if to ask how she was feeling, but before he could utter a word, Jeonghan glanced over his shoulder and gave a subtle, calm, but firm look.

It was a wordless command, the kind of look that said, Not now.

Seungcheol, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at Jeonghan, silently asking if everything was okay. The two eldest exchanged a brief glance, an entire conversation passing between them without words. Jeonghan’s slow, reassuring nod told him everything he needed to know.

This wasn’t Luna’s first anxiety attack. She’d had multiple of them before, although it had been a while since her last one. She’d been managing them so well, but today, with the flu weakening her defenses, it had slipped through.

Seungcheol, understanding the situation, gave a barely perceptible nod back. The other members saw the exchange and, without a word, fell into a quiet understanding, lowering their voices and making sure the space around Luna remained as peaceful as possible.

Jeonghan turned back to Luna, his eyes softening as he took in her tired expression. She was still gazing out the window, her eyes following the movements of the airport crew as they loaded luggage onto the planes.

He knew her too well— knew that she was counting in her head, focusing on each piece of luggage as it was lifted and placed into the cargo hold, using it as a distraction to keep her mind occupied.

“Good job. You’re doing such a good job,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the ambient noise around them. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, soothing motions. His other hand still held hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her skin. “There you go, Jiyeonie, You’re doing so well.”

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in a different way, a warmth blossoming in her chest even though she still felt so drained. She wasn’t fully okay, but with him there, she felt safer, more grounded.

The world outside continued its steady pace, the rhythmic movements of the airport playing out in front of her. Luna’s eyes still remained following the luggage cart, watching as it carried suitcases toward the plane.

Jeonghan, after much thought, leaned in a little closer. “I bet they lost your luggage,” he joked, his voice still quiet but laced with a teasing edge.

Despite the heaviness in her body, Luna couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She turned her head just enough to give him a playful pout. “Is that your way of making me feel better?” she asked softly, her voice scratchy from fatigue.

Jeonghan smiled down at her, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering as if she was something fragile, something so precious.

The way he looked at her at that moment— it was as if she hung the moon and stars as if nothing else mattered but her, like she was the center of his universe.

“I know it will,” he replied, his smug smile widening just a fraction. “Because then I’ll get to buy you new clothes.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with amusement despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She couldn’t believe how easily he could see right through her, how effortlessly he made her feel better without even trying.

It was like he had some sort of superpower— knowing exactly what she needed before she even realized it herself.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, pulling Luna a little closer to his side, his hand still gently playing with her hair. The rhythm of his fingers brushing through her strands was slow and steady, matching the calming atmosphere around them.

Luna shifted slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she allowed herself to fully relax into him, her cheek pressed comfortably against his shoulder.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” Jeonghan whispered, a playful lilt in his voice as he glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a fond smile.

Luna groaned softly, not even bothering to open her eyes. “I’m not cute. Definitely not cute now,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible as exhaustion weighed down her every word.

Jeonghan chuckled, low and soothing, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Yes, you are. My cute little Jiyeonie. You’re always cute,” he cooed, his tone shifting into that familiar baby talk that he always used when he wanted to tease her.

Luna, too tired to argue, just grumbled in response, burying her face further into his shoulder. She knew there was no point in protesting; Jeonghan would always win this argument, and deep down, she didn’t mind. Not when his voice was so soft, so comforting.

“Hmm, you’re doing so well, my pretty angel,” he murmured again, his thumb now gently rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “You’re such a strong girl, you know that?”

Luna hummed quietly, the sound of his voice wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t have the energy to say much, but she didn’t need to.

Jeonghan knew. He always knew.

He smiled down at her, his gaze warm as he watched her eyes flutter open just a crack, still half-lidded from fatigue. “You’re going to feel better soon. I promise,” he continued softly.

A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and he lifted his hand in front of her face, acting like he grabbed something out of thin air.

Luna, confused, raised an eyebrow as she glanced at his closed fist.

“See this?” Jeonghan said, eyes shifting to his hand as if it held something important.

“What?” Luna asked, her confusion deepening as she watched him curiously.

Jeonghan dramatically acted as if he was throwing something out the window, his arm swinging with a flourish. “I just gave your flu to the guy who lost your luggage,” he said, his face completely serious.

Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief before a small giggle bubbled up from her chest. She gently pushed against his chest, her laughter soft and light. “My luggage isn’t lost, and that man didn’t do anything. He doesn’t deserve to be sick,” she pouted, her lips curving into a playful frown.

Jeonghan sighed in mock amazement, shaking his head. “You are the actual angel between the two of us,” he remarked, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and admiration as he looked at her.

“Whatever,” Luna snuggled closer to him, her eyes closing once more.

Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head and said, “When we get there, I’m going to make sure you rest. I’ll tuck you in, and you won’t have to worry about anything else, okay?”

Luna nodded weakly, her grip tightening slightly around his hand. “Mm… sounds nice,” she whispered, her voice raspy but laced with gratitude.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “Of course it does. I know what my girl likes.” He leaned down, brushing another kiss to the top of her head, lingering for a moment as if that small gesture could transfer all the comfort and care he had for her.

Luna felt her chest warm at his words, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Even in her exhaustion, even with her body feeling like it was weighed down by bricks, she couldn’t help but feel lighter when he spoke to her like this.

Like she was the only thing that mattered.

“Does that mean you’ll spoil me?” she teased softly, the smallest hint of playfulness in her tone despite how tired she was.

Jeonghan grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked down at her. “Oh, absolutely. Whatever you want, Nana-ya. You name it, and it’s yours.” He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, his touch as tender as ever. “I’m at your service, baby.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart swell. “You’re so ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice carrying that familiar affection she always had for him, even when she was exhausted.

“And you love me for it,” Jeonghan replied with a smirk, his tone teasing but undeniably affectionate. He knew how to pull the smallest reactions from her, knew exactly what to say to keep her grounded, to make her feel seen and cherished.

“I do,” Luna whispered, her voice soft but certain, her eyes fluttering closed once more as she relaxed completely into his embrace. She let out a deep, tired breath, her fingers lacing tighter with his as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping her anchored.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened even further, his thumb still brushing over her hand in a slow, comforting rhythm. “My strong girl,” he murmured again, the words barely above a whisper. “You’re doing so, so well.”

The bustling lounge around them, the noise of the airport— it all faded into the background. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how long the flight would be, or how tired and worn out Luna felt.

As long as Jeonghan was there, holding her, whispering words of comfort in her ear, she knew she’d be okay.

Because with him, nothing else mattered.

As they waited for their plane, Jeonghan held her close, his presence as steady and unwavering as ever.

The world could wait.

For now, nothing mattered but her.

Jeonghan stayed glued to Luna’s side from the moment they boarded the plane. He didn’t leave anything to chance. From the way her seatbelt clicked softly around her, to how he made sure she ate the light meal they were served, his eyes were always watching her.

Jeonghan's hand lingered on her shoulder, his thumb grazing the fabric of her sweater as he asked in that quiet, calming voice of his, “Comfortable?”

Luna nodded, the fatigue weighing heavily on her bones. But even though her body cried for sleep, Jeonghan was already one step ahead, adjusting the small blanket over her legs and shoulders, cocooning her in warmth. He tucked it gently under her chin, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Sleep,” he whispered, his tone low and velvety. “I’ll wake you up when we land.”

She mumbled something incoherent in reply, but Jeonghan wasn’t deterred. He adjusted her pillow and gave a soft, satisfied hum when she finally closed her eyes.

Every slight movement on the plane— the ding of the overhead lights, the sound of people shifting in their seats— he shielded her from it all, his focus entirely on her comfort.

Hours passed and the city of Los Angeles glittered beneath them, the sprawling lights blinking like tiny jewels as the plane touched down.

Jeonghan never let go of Luna’s hand, guiding her through the throng of people in the airport, his hand firm and steady on her back. He had seen the earlier signs, the slight tremble in her hands, the way her breath had hitched at the thought of another crowded, overwhelming moment. And he wasn't about to let her go through that again.

They moved swiftly, his arm looped protectively around her waist, his pace matching hers as they wove their way through LAX. Luna leaned into him, her steps faltering only slightly, and though no one said it aloud, Jeonghan was the anchor she clung to.

When they reached the van that would take them to the stadium for rehearsal, Jeonghan cast her a long look, his brow furrowed in silent question. “You okay?” His voice, though soft, was insistent.

Luna nodded, too stubborn to let the exhaustion speak for her. She was tired and sick, but there was no way she would admit it— not when she had been working so hard for this specific performance— it was the reason she was sick in the first place.

The moment they stepped into the stadium, the rest of the members hovered around her. They could see it in her eyes— the flu that clung to her like a shadow— but Luna? She just waved them off with a tired smile, ignoring their concerned stares. Even when they hesitated to let her rehearse, insisting that she should sit this one out, Luna remained firm.

"I’d rather break all my bones than not perform," she said quietly but with enough determination that no one dared challenge her not even Seungcheol who could see the desperation in her eye.

And so, the rehearsal began.

Luna danced with a fierce precision, her every movement sharp and in sync with the music. Despite her voice being raspier from the flu, she hit all the notes, her performance flawless.

To anyone watching, it was as though nothing was wrong.

She was perfect.

But Luna didn’t feel perfect.

She could sense every flaw, every small imperfection that gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The cough that threatened to break through at any moment, the aching in her muscles that slowed her just enough to frustrate her beyond reason. Her mind spiraled as she rehearsed, the frustration coiling tightly in her chest, threatening to break her.

During a break, she paced across the stage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The stress, the pressure, the illness— it was all too much, and she could feel it mounting inside her like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Jeonghan watched her silently from across the stage, his brow furrowed as he took in every minute detail— the way her fingers flexed, the way she bit her lower lip in frustration.

He knew her too well.

He could see it— how close she was to breaking both physically and mentally.

And as they made their way back to the hotel after rehearsal, Jeonghan remained silent, his eyes trained on her, sensing the inner turmoil she tried so hard to hide.

Luna, of course, could feel him watching her.

Jeonghan always knew, always could tell when something was wrong. It annoyed her, but in the same breath, she loved him for it. She loved that he could read her thoughts, even the ones she tried to bury. And she knew, as soon as they walked through that hotel door, that he would corner her about it.

The second they entered her room, silence filled the space. Luna barely made it two steps inside before Jeonghan was there, gently spinning her around to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing against her flushed cheeks, his eyes soft and full of understanding.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice like a gentle caress. Luna blinked up at him, her doe eyes shimmering with the unshed tears that threatened to spill.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened further, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stroked her skin.

He didn’t need to ask. He didn’t need to say anything. He already knew.

Before Luna could say a word, Jeonghan pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight, comforting embrace. The moment his arms enveloped her, the dam inside her broke. She melted against him, her body shaking as the tears finally poured out.

All the pain, all the frustration, all the doubt— she let it all go in that moment, burying her face in his chest as her sobs echoed softly against him.

Jeonghan held her, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. He didn’t shush her, didn’t tell her to stop crying. He just held her, letting her release every bit of the pent-up emotions she had been carrying for far too long.

When her sobs grew quieter, turning into soft sniffles and hiccups, he gently cooed to her, his voice as soft as velvet.

“You’re frustrated, hm? I know, baby. I understand,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to feel like this.”

Luna just cried harder, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she let it all out.

She didn’t need to say anything— Jeonghan understood it all.

“I’m here,” he continued, his voice soothing as he rocked her gently. “I know it’s hard. But you don’t have to be perfect, okay?”

Slowly, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her over to the bed. He sat down, settling her in his lap, his arms still wrapped around her protectively. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing a tear-streaked strand of hair out of her face. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

Luna continued to cry softly, but the tension in her body began to ease as Jeonghan rocked her gently, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. “.You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you for that.”

His words were soft, comforting, and firm. The way he doted on her, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world— it was everything she needed. Everything she didn’t know she needed until now.

“I’ve got you,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice laced with tenderness as he continued to hold her close. “I’ve always got you.”

And at that moment, as Luna clung to him, feeling the weight of her frustrations slowly lift, she knew that no matter how hard things got, Jeonghan would always be there, holding her, understanding her, loving her.

Just like he always had.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by a silence that wasn’t empty but filled with everything unsaid.

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room, punctuated by Luna’s occasional sniffles and quiet hiccups, each one making Jeonghan’s hold on her tighten ever so slightly.

His fingers traced comforting patterns along her back, and every now and then, he hummed softly— a sound as soothing as a lullaby— cooing, “Shh, it’s okay,” whenever she let out a shaky breath. He pressed gentle kisses to the crown of her head, his voice warm, melting the edges of her pain.

After a few minutes, when her crying had slowed and her breathing evened out, Jeonghan pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace they’d built around them.

He didn’t push, didn’t rush her. He simply waited, his thumb grazing her cheekbone in the softest, most patient of motions. His eyes were full of understanding, holding a quiet strength she could lean into.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and she knew. She couldn’t keep anything from him. She never could.

She let out a long sigh, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt for stability, and then the words tumbled out. “I hate being sick,” she began, her voice raw, the vulnerability clear in her tone.

“I know, baby,” Jeonghan murmured, his voice laced with gentle affection. His thumb continued to trace slow circles on her cheek, grounding her as she spoke.

“I hate feeling…weak. I hate that I can’t keep up, that I’m slowing everyone down,” she continued, her words rushing now as if she’d been holding them back for too long. “And I hate feeling like a burden.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, but before he could say anything, Luna pressed on. “You know how much I hate that feeling, right? It reminds me of…of the early years. When people would call me names and isolate all my mistakes, just because I am the only girl.” Her voice cracked at the last part, and Jeonghan’s heart ached for her.

He remembered those days all too well— how Luna had carried the weight of others' expectations and criticisms, how she had tried to be everything to everyone and in the process had nearly crumbled under the pressure.

“I know,” Jeonghan whispered again, his voice laced with a protective tenderness. He shifted slightly so he could cup both sides of her neck with his hands, his thumbs brushing along her jawline. “I know, baby.”

Luna swallowed hard, the memories of those early years washing over her. “And now, I feel like I can’t let that happen again. My pride won’t let me. My ego won’t let me. I have to be perfect, always, and it’s— it’s too much.” She paused, her breathing uneven as she fought to gather her thoughts. “The pressure— it’s crushing me. And sometimes, I just…I feel too sensitive, too soft for all the noise, you know? For everything.”

“I’m not as strong as I pretend myself to be.” Her voice wavered as she said it, and she glanced up at Jeonghan, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty.

Admitting this to anyone else would have been impossible.

But Jeonghan? He was the only person on the planet she could admit that to.

The only person who made her feel safe enough to bare her soul.

Jeonghan listened silently, his hands never leaving her neck, his fingers caressing the soft skin there in gentle, calming strokes. His eyes never left hers, and in that moment, Luna knew— he wasn’t judging her, wasn’t frustrated with her. He was just there, solid and steady, giving her all the time she needed.

He took a few seconds after she finished, gathering his thoughts, his eyes never wavering from hers. And then, with a tenderness that made Luna’s heart ache, he spoke. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know that?” His voice was soft, yet firm— an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “No one is perfect. Not me, not you, not anyone. And that’s okay.”

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze deep and thoughtful. “I don’t love you because you’re perfect, Jiyeon. I love you because you’re you. Unapologetically you. The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly— all of it.”

Luna’s lip trembled, but Jeonghan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re more than enough, baby. You always have been. I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are, right here, right now.”

Luna opened her mouth to protest, but Jeonghan cut her off, his voice gentle but insistent. “No, listen to me. Stop thinking like that. You’re not a burden. You never were.” His fingers slipped through her hair, his touch soft as he cradled her head in his hands. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much, and yet you’re still standing, still shining.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Luna mumbled, her voice thick with doubt as tears slowly fell out of her eyes.

Jeonghan shook his head, smiling at her with that knowing look as he wiped the tears away. “That’s because you don’t see yourself the way I do.” He tapped her nose lightly, making her blink in surprise. “I see someone who’s been fighting her whole life, someone who’s never backed down, even when things were hard.”

“But I—” Luna tried again, but Jeonghan cut her off with a teasing smirk.

“Ah, ah, no buts,” he teased, his voice a playful mix of softness and scolding. “You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. But don’t for one-second think that makes you less amazing. You’re not supposed to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”

Luna blinked up at him, her heart swelling at his words. “But what if I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Jeonghan interrupted his tone light, yet filled with understanding. “Keep going? You’ve been keeping up just fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“But what if I don’t?” she whispered, her eyes filled with doubt.

Jeonghan’s smile softened, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Then you lean on me. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we do for each other. Plus you have twelve more people out there who are more than willing to be your support— you can have your pick.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he whispered against her skin, “You’re not alone, Nana-ya. Not now, not ever.”

Luna didn’t know how she’d survived this long.

For years, it had felt like she was running on fumes, each step forward met with resistance from her own mind, her own doubts. But now, as she lay in Jeonghan’s arms, her head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, she understood.

She was looking at one of the reasons why.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Every smile, every whispered reassurance, every small touch had kept her grounded when she felt like she was unraveling.

Jeonghan made her feel as though the world was spinning just for her like nothing else mattered but the two of them in this moment.

How easily he could make her feel seen, cherished, and loved— it was terrifying how much she was still falling for him, and yet, she couldn’t help it.

The deeper she fell, the safer she felt, as if his love was a cushion that would catch her no matter what.

Luna felt him press another kiss to her forehead, and before she could protest, he shifted slightly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. Her fingers slipped from his chest and lazily found his hand, playing with his long fingers as he allowed her to, his grip soft but ever-present.

Luna watched him silently, her gaze tracing the familiar contours of his face— the delicate slope of his nose, the gentle arch of his brow, the way his lips moved slightly as he prepared to speak into the phone.

He glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched her play with his fingers, but then his attention shifted back to the call. “Hey, hyung,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth and composed, though there was a hint of urgency beneath his words.

Luna’s heart swelled at the sound— it was her favorite sound in the world, his voice. So full of warmth, so full of love.

“Yeah, Jiyeonie’s not feeling well… No, no, she’s okay, but I need you to pick up some things.” There was a brief pause as he listened, his eyes flicking down to Luna again as he continued to let her fidget with his hand. “Some medicine for the flu… Yeah, and get some chamomile tea too. It’s her favorite.” His smile widened slightly as he said that, knowing how much comfort it would bring her.

Luna looked up at him as he spoke, her mind swimming in the soft cadence of his voice. She remembered what he had said earlier, about seeing herself the way he saw her. That thought stayed with her, echoing in her mind like a gentle hum.

She wanted to know— desperately— what it would be like to love herself the way Jeonghan did. To see herself not as a burden, but as someone worthy of care, worthy of love, for all the good and bad, the ugly and the pretty. Because no one had ever loved her like he did.

“Yeah, and one more thing,” Jeonghan’s voice brought her back to the present. “Can you grab her food for dinner on the way, too? The Korean restaurant… the place she loves here— yeah, the one in Koreatown. Thanks, hyung. I owe you.” He ended the call with his manager, setting the phone down and turning back to her.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he took in the way she looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder and love.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like a promise, a vow he intended to keep.

And he did.

The next hour passed in a blur of warmth and gentle care.

When the doorbell rang, Luna let out a soft whine as Jeonghan carefully untangled himself from her. He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back, angel. Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his tone playful yet filled with affection.

True to his word, Jeonghan returned moments later with two bags in hand. One was filled with medicine—painkillers, cold medicine, and everything else she needed to combat the flu. The other was heavier, the delicious aroma of her favorite takeout filling the room as he set it on the table. He helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her as he opened the containers.

“Come on, you need to eat,” he coaxed gently, handing her a set of chopsticks.

Luna smiled gratefully, the smell of the food making her realize just how hungry she still was, despite feeling sick. They ate in comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of their natural conversation punctuated by the clink of chopsticks and soft laughter.

As they finished the meal, Jeonghan moved to the small kitchenette in the hotel room and began preparing her favorite chamomile tea. Luna watched him from the bed, her body sinking deeper into the plush comforter. Even the simple act of him boiling water and steeping the tea felt like an expression of love— like everything he did was a way of showing how much he cared for her.

He returned to her side with the steaming mug, blowing on it slightly before handing it to her. “Here, this will help your throat.”

Luna took the mug from him, the warmth seeping into her hands as she took a slow sip. The tea was soothing, the familiar floral notes calming her from the inside out.

Jeonghan then reached for the medicine he’d asked for, placing the pills into her hand and watching carefully as she swallowed them.

“Good job, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan praised her, knowing how much she hated drinking medicines.

After she had finished, he set an alarm on his phone for her next dose, determined to make sure she stayed on track with her medication.

“You’re really babying me,” Luna teased, her voice still a little raspy from the congestion, but there was a smile in her tone.

Jeonghan shrugged, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he responded, “What can I say? You’re my favorite person to take care of.”

Luna felt her heart flutter at his words, the warmth spreading through her chest. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Jeonghan heard it loud and clear.

“No,” he corrected, leaning in to press his lips against her forehead once more. “I’m the lucky one.”

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, spilling in through the massive hotel windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Outside, the night sky was clear, and the moon hung like a silent guardian over the city below, casting an ethereal light across the room. Its glow painted the walls in silver, illuminating the quiet space where Luna and Jeonghan lay wrapped in each other’s arms.

Luna was curled into Jeonghan’s side, her head nestled against his chest, her body comfortably molded to his. Their legs tangled together under the covers, their shared warmth a cocoon that separated them from the world outside.

Jeonghan's hand rested on her back, his fingers moving in slow, gentle circles, the repetitive motion soothing her in a way only he could. With his free hand, Luna absentmindedly played with his fingers, her fingertips tracing the lines of his palm, their silent rhythm in sync, matching the slow rise and fall of their breathing.

The moonlight caught Luna’s eye, and from her place against Jeonghan, she stared out at it through the window, the silvery glow making the world seem calm and still. She watched as the moon floated in the vast expanse of the night sky, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and yet… so familiar. There was a quiet comfort in its light, a reminder of home, of memories that always seemed to resurface on nights like these.

Jeonghan noticed the shift in her attention. He felt the way her body relaxed even more against him, her breathing becoming deeper as her gaze remained fixated on the night outside. He followed her line of sight, but his focus quickly returned to her.

As Luna continued to gaze at the moon, Jeonghan found himself lost in a quiet, ironic admiration.

Here she was, completely mesmerized by the pale, glowing orb in the sky— and yet, to him, the real moon lay beside him, nestled in his arms.

Luna.

He watched the way her brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, their deep, warm color now reflecting the cool, silver light. Her expression was soft, almost dreamlike as if the light had cast a spell on her.

But Jeonghan knew better— it was she who had cast the spell on him.

He watched the way her brown doe eyes reflected the moonlight made them sparkle, turning her soft, innocent gaze into something more enchanting, almost siren-like, as though she were lost in thought, drawn into the beauty of the sky. Her pale porcelain skin, smooth and delicate, glowed under the moon’s light, and Jeonghan couldn't help but smile softly at the sight.

He took in every detail of her, from the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed to the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose— something only visible up close, and he always found them endearing, a hidden piece of her beauty that not everyone got to see.

But he did.

He noticed everything.

The way her lips parted slightly as she lost herself in thought, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulder, catching the light in glittering strands.

Jeonghan admired her just as she admired the moon, realizing that to him, Luna was just as captivating— if not more so.

It was poetic, really, this silent moment between them.

As she gazed at the moon in the sky, Jeonghan found himself gazing at the moon in his arms.

Jeonghan admired her in silence, his heart swelling with affection. There was something so serene about Luna in moments like these, something that took his breath away every time.

She was beautiful in ways she didn’t even realize— imperfections that made her perfect to him.

As he continued to trace slow circles on her back, he vowed silently that he’d show her. He’ll make her see how perfect she is. How she’s so much more than she thinks.

The silence between them was comfortable, the quiet hum of the city outside a distant sound they barely noticed. Then, breaking the stillness, Luna’s soft voice filled the air, her eyes never leaving the moon.

"My mom loves the moon," she said quietly, her voice almost wistful.

Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the mention of her mother. He reached up with his free hand and gently brushed a stray hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. "I know she does," he murmured in response, his voice low and gentle. "You told me before."

A small smile tugged at Luna’s lips, still staring up at the moon as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "She said if she wasn’t a ballerina, she would’ve been an astronaut," Luna giggled softly, a sound that made Jeonghan’s smile widen.

He loved it when she talked about her family— her face always lit up with a kind of soft nostalgia. Jeonghan listened, his hand continuing to move in gentle patterns on her skin, offering her the quiet comfort she needed.

"She used to tell me," Luna continued, her voice light with memory, "that she would talk to the moon and make wishes to it."

Jeonghan smiled at that, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

Luna nodded, the movement subtle as her head remained resting on his chest. “I remember telling her she sounded crazy,” she chuckled, her laughter warm and full of affection.

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with playful mischief, and before Luna could react, he poked her side, his fingers finding her waist. "No, you didn’t," he teased, his voice playful.

Luna squealed, a burst of laughter escaping her as she squirmed slightly, turning to pout up at him. Her lips jutted out in an adorable frown as she met his teasing smile. "I did!" she insisted, her voice filled with mock indignation.

Jeonghan grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling as he admired the way her cheeks flushed, her pout softening into a smile. He was always so easily captivated by her— by the smallest details, the little quirks she didn’t even know she had.

Luna shifted her gaze back to the moon, her voice quieting as she spoke again. “She loved it so much, she named me after it.” Her words were almost whispered, and there was a reverence in her tone, as if the name held all the weight of her mother’s love.

Jeonghan’s chest tightened with affection. His eyes drifted between her and the moon outside, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips.

It was fitting, he thought, that Luna was named after the moon.

Just like the celestial body that lit up the darkest nights, she illuminated every part of his life, even the pieces he didn’t know needed light.

“Did you know,” Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft, “that the moon isn’t perfectly round?”

Luna raised an eyebrow at his sudden trivia, curiosity and amusement flickering in her eyes as she glanced up at him. “I did know that, nerd,” she teased, her tone playful as her lips curved into a smile.

Jeonghan chuckled, his playful side emerging as he stuck out his tongue and ruffled her hair. “If you knew that, then that makes you a nerd too, nerd.”

Luna let out a soft whine, quickly removing his hand from her head— not because she cared about him messing up her hair, but because she didn’t want to let go of his hand. She hated losing that connection, even for a second.

Jeonghan chuckled again, his tone softening as he cooed gently, “Okay, alright, I’m here.” He wrapped his arms more securely around her, pulling her even closer to him, and she let out a content sigh, her body relaxing once more into his embrace.

After a beat, Luna broke the silence, her voice soft but curious, “What was your point?”

Jeonghan hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. He cupped her face, the warmth of his palm grounding her. “The moon is full of imperfections,” he said, his voice tender, almost reverent.

Luna softened at his words, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

He was trying to prove his point, his way of telling her she was enough, even with her insecurities and doubts.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She felt her chest tighten, but not in the panicked way it had at the airport. This pounding sensation was different. It was calm, steady, and tethered to him. She could feel her heart beating in sync with his, the rhythm of their shared breaths filling the space between them.

Jeonghan’s voice drew her back to the moment. “But people like your mom,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, “they still talk to it, still look for it when they can’t find it. And they still love it... and it still shines, regardless.”

Her eyes welled up with tears again, her heart aching at how deeply she loved him in that moment. No one had ever made her feel so seen, so deeply understood. The way he cherished her, imperfections and all, made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

Jeonghan's hand gently wiped away a tear before it could fall, his expression soft but serious. “You’re no different, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “I still talk to you, I still look for you when I can’t find you. And I still love you… and you still shine, regardless.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart clenched at his words, and she could feel that familiar pounding again, not the anxious panic from before, but something far more peaceful— like her heart was trying to tell her that everything was okay.

The way his heart beat in time with hers soothed her, anchoring her. The tears slipped freely now, no longer held back by the dam she’d built around her emotions.

Jeonghan's expression shifted as he noticed her tears, his lips curling into a soft smile as he tried to lighten the mood. “But…” he said, drawing out the word as if he was about to reveal something serious.

Luna blinked up at him, her eyes still glassy, wondering where he was going. He smirked playfully. “One thing you won’t have in common with the moon is… being lonely.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to follow his train of thought. Before she could ask, he leaned in, his voice low but teasing, “You have me, my moon.”

That was it.

The floodgates opened again, but this time she chuckled through her tears, pushing him playfully. “You’re a nerd,” she whined, sniffling, “and a sap.”

Jeonghan laughed at that, his whole face lighting up with amusement. He reached out and wiped her face gently, his fingers brushing away the stray tears. “Aww, my little crybaby,” he teased her in baby talk, cooing at her like he was speaking to a child. “C’mon, no more tears, okay?”

Luna pouted, swatting at his hand, “Stop making me cry then!” Her voice wavered, a mix of frustration and affection, but even as she said it, she couldn’t help but smile.

Jeonghan grinned, unbothered by her playful complaint. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my love too overwhelming for you?” He teased, laughing softly as she glared at him half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her voice. Instead, she let herself melt into him again, feeling safe, loved, and seen.

Without warning, his fingers brushed her lips, the pad of his thumb grazing the soft curve of her mouth. Her breath hitched slightly at the unexpected tenderness of the touch, her pulse quickening.

The sensation was gentle, yet electrifying, as if his touch alone sends sparks dancing across. He traced the outline of her bottom lip slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing its shape.

Luna's heart pounded, and she felt the world narrow to just the two of them at that moment. Jeonghan's fingers moved with an almost featherlight touch, teasing yet reverent. His eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes, and without a word, he began leaning closer, his breath mingling with hers.

Just as his lips were about to capture hers, Luna ducked her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Jeonghan paused, clearly confused, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"You seem to forget," Luna mumbled against his skin, her voice muffled, "that I'm sick."

Jeonghan blinked, his large hand instinctively finding its place at the nape of her neck. He gently pulled her back, cupping her face so she had no choice but to look at him again. "No, I didn't forget," he replied, his tone laced with quiet confidence as he leaned in once more.

But Luna swerved again, her hand shooting up to block him as she glared at him, eyes firm but still soft. "Han! You're gonna get sick," she scolded, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern.

Jeonghan's brow quirked upward in challenge, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. "Okay... and?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly unconcerned.

Luna sighed, knowing this was a battle she was likely going to lose, but she pressed on. "Cheolie is gonna kill us both if we both end up sick— you know how he worries."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, clearly unimpressed by the argument. "It's worth the risk," he murmured, leaning in again to kiss her, but Luna pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him just short.

She was on her back now, and Jeonghan was sitting up over her, his arm braced on one side of her head, the other hand gripping hers firmly, yet gently. His touch was grounding, but there was a playfulness in his movements, a slow, deliberate tension in the way he held her still, his eyes never leaving hers.

"There's no guarantee I'll catch it, Nana-ya," he said softly, his voice low, the teasing lilt clear.

Luna bit her lip, shaking her head as her fingers curled against his chest. "Hannie— I can guarantee a hundred percent you'll catch it. It's already a risk that we're breathing the same air right now." Her eyes glinted with a mix of playfulness and worry as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer despite herself.

Jeonghan pouted dramatically, his expression boyish and unconvincing. "What makes you say that?" he asked, raising his brow as though daring her to argue further.

"Because you're you, Yoon Jeonghan," Luna retorted, her voice light, teasing. "You might have a weaker immune system than me." Her smile was cheeky, but her gaze was tender.

Jeonghan's jaw dropped in mock offense, his eyes narrowing as if deeply insulted.

"Says the girl who's already sick!" he shot back, his voice playfully accusatory.

"Exactly!" Luna exclaimed, triumphant. "Which is why you're gonna be a good boy and move to your side of the bed and leave the kisses to a minimum until I get bett–”

Her sentence was cut off abruptly as Jeonghan, with a swift and determined motion, cupped her neck with one hand and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for protest. The warmth of his mouth on hers was intoxicating, the softness of his lips moving with an easy confidence that made her head spin.

Luna's defenses crumbled instantly. Her hands that had been pushing him away moments ago now gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she melted into him.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, Jeonghan's lips moving against hers with a rhythm that left her breathless. He smiled against her mouth, his smirk felt more than seen, and it sent a thrill down her spine.

The sensation of his lips was dizzying, a perfect blend of softness and firmness, a touch that was both teasing and sure. It was like he was savoring the moment, dragging it out, knowing he had won this small victory.

Every movement, every shift of his mouth against hers felt like a carefully calculated move, designed to make her give in, and she was powerless to resist.

When they finally pulled away, Luna was speechless, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her lips tingled, the remnants of the kiss lingering like a warm haze.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, a smug grin tugging at his lips, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Well," he began, his tone teasing and oh-so-condescending, "looks like someone didn't mind that too much." He winked at her, his voice dropping into a sing-song tone as he added in baby talk, "Aww, is my sick little Jiyeonie all flustered now?"

Luna gaped at him, still trying to recover, before shoving him playfully. "You're the worst," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real venom.

She couldn't deny it— he had won, and they both knew it.

Luna shook her head at Jeonghan’s smug expression, her chest still fluttering from the lingering kiss. “You’re absolutely insufferable, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed any irritation she tried to muster.

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Mmm, but you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

She huffed, half-heartedly shoving him again, but this time her hand stayed on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I never said that,” she replied, her voice soft, and playful, though the affection in her eyes was impossible to hide.

“Didn’t need to.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the teasing edge softening into something tender as he shifted slightly, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist. “It’s written all over your face, Jiyeonie.”

Luna felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, her usual quick wit failing her as she looked up at him. “Shut up,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest to avoid the intensity of his stare, though she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her.

Jeonghan hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on her back. “Mmm, whatever you want,” he whispered, his voice low and lazy now as if the teasing energy from before had melted into something softer, more intimate.

The conversation slowed, their words becoming fewer and farther between as they lay together, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence. Their voices were no more than whispers in the quiet of the night, the sound of their breaths mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside.

“We still haven’t told the guys about us… been too busy,” Luna mumbled sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy as her head rested comfortably against Jeonghan’s chest.

Jeonghan smiled faintly, his fingers still lazily tracing over her skin. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lull in the quiet room.

“Hmm,” Luna hummed, her arms tightening slightly around him. “I don’t want you getting sick…”

Jeonghan’s lips brushed her forehead again, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Nothing matters but you, Jiyeonie.”

There was something about the way Jeonghan said it— soft, sure as if it was the simplest truth in the world. The tenderness of the moment wrapped around them like a blanket, warm and safe, and Luna’s heart swelled in response.

“Don’t say that because I could say the same thing about you,” Luna whispered it out.

The words hung in the air, delicate and true, as the weight of the day began to pull them both under.

Jeonghan’s hand brushed through her hair, the same tender care present in every touch, every glance. It was the way he held her when the world became too much, the way he listened without needing words. It was the sweet nothings they exchanged, the unspoken promises, the quiet love that bloomed in the spaces between their conversations.

Their breathing fell into sync, the quiet rhythm of their bodies melding together in the shared silence. Jeonghan’s hand slowly stilled on her back, his thumb brushing against her side in slow, sleepy strokes. Luna’s eyelids fluttered, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness, her body relaxing fully into his embrace.

The warmth of Jeonghan’s presence, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, grounded her as her breathing slowed, her body sinking deeper into the bed. Luna’s last thought before sleep took her was the gentle comfort of his arms around her, the soft press of his lips on her hair, and the way his fingers felt like home as they held her close.

The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a blanket, and Luna knew— no matter how hard things got, no matter how overwhelming the world outside could be, here, with him, she would always be safe.

She would always be loved.

And in the quiet of that truth, she let herself finally surrender to sleep, knowing that in this moment, nothing else mattered but them.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

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[alphajocklover]

I really want a hot boyfriend. does instajock always make you straight or can I use it on a guy to make him more my type? (and maybe also make me more his type)

So, I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding, one that I want to clear up. While I do my best to report on different transformation methods, I can’t include every detail about every one of them. My posts are relatively short and don’t always cover everything, because if I did it would take forever. The lack of details, plus some distracting pictures, leads to a lot of people getting details mixed up or getting confused. It’s happened before, and I think it’s what is happening here. I say this because as far as I can remember I have never mentioned anything about InstaJock turning someone straight.

InstaJock can change a person's sexuality, theoretically, through the settings and details section that I've mentioned in previous posts. The thing is, it normally doesn’t. Instajock changes its users personality, their body, and their mind, but for some reason their sexuality will usually stay the same. They’ll become more openly sexual, and also often very flirtatious to fit their new jock persona, but their sexual identity doesn’t change. Even when their sexuality does change it usually turns them gay, not straight.  For some reason the app's already confusing setting page is set up so it's a lot easier to set your sexuality to gay then to straight. My best guess for why the app is set up that way is that the creator, or creators, are gay themselves and have a thing for jocks. I mean, you don’t make a seemingly impossible app that changes people into dumb jocks if you don’t have some sort of kink for it.. So, If you use the app on someone who's already gay you’ve probably got nothing to worry about. Chances are they’ll stay gay, unless they happen to have a huge conversion kink and are really good with computers. Anyways, now that we’ve cleared up that issue let's get into the specifics of your issue. 

Changing someone's personality and identity so that they’ll be your ideal boyfriend is… pretty questionable, if I’m being honest. But so is much of what happens in the world of transformations, so I’ll focus on the ‘how to’ rather than the morals. Your first problem is one I’ve brought up before: You can only give someone the app if you already have the app. Only an already transformed Jock can invite another person to InstaJock. You’d only be able to transform him,but only if you are changed yourself. I know you said you’d be with being changed, but once you become a jock figuring out the app will be much harder, so you might not end up his type, or he might not end up yours. I think your best bet would be to convince a jock to change both of you. InstaJock users can send out multiple invites at once, so it would be easy even for him. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a dumb mistake. He is a jock afterall.

I do hope this works out for you. Not because I approve of what you’re doing, but because there are a lot of ways this could go wrong. One of you could have your sexuality changed when you get transformed, the jock who changes you both might make you brothers instead of boyfriends, or you and he could just not click. Just because someones your type doesn’t mean they’re the right person for you. Even if you and your target don’t end up together, I think you will have a much easier time getting a boyfriend after you use InstaJock. I hate to be shallow, but dating is usually easier when you have a 6 pack and huge pecs.

[cherrycolored-punk]

NHTK - Chapter Two

Masterlist

pairing: brother's best friend! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, reader is Reefer Rick’s little sister.

w/c: 6.2k

author's note: this is a repost from my previous blog @strangemagicc but somewhat re-written, some of their story has changed. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please reblog if you did, support is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, mention of cheating (technically not reader), mention of anxiety and a past car accident, brief mention of money issues for reader

Then:

“Fucking shit!” 

Eddie can hear the worry in your voice as he rounds the corner. The sound of his heavy boots against the tiled floor catches your attention.

The fear is vibrant in your eyes when you turn to him, a quiet cry for help and he can’t help but chuckle at the scene. At the state of your brows pushed together, face twisted in horror.

He looks over your shoulder, noticing that the popcorn is overfilled and smoke is billowing from behind the glass doors of the machine. Charred pieces of popcorn fall into the vat; the burnt smell wafts around you and fills the air.

“Way to go, Little Lipton,” he laughs and moves around you to turn off the machine.

“Shut up,” but the words come out like a whine.

You’re already annoyed that he caught you creating a mess and even more peeved that he’s looking at you with that cocky smirk of his.

“Alright,” he sighs heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit, so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilts his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leans against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Out of commission?” Your voice raises an octave, face twisting in horror as his words make alarms blare in your skull.

“Yeah,” he chuckles as though his next words are obvious.

“We have to clean this one before we use it, or all the other batches are going to taste like shit, and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groan and drop your head back.

He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. Mark wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.

“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugs with a crooked grin, a glint of amusement in his chestnut eyes as he stares down at you.

“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly look up at him and swat at his arm. 

His smile grows wider at your display.

“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighs dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”

Reflexively he moves out of arm’s reach before you can do any serious damage.

Eddie enjoys the way your lower lip juts out, how your forehead creases between your eyebrows when you are mad, and fuck, were you pissed.

It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.

Or his form of training, which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it, but this is what works.”

The problem was that you’d been distracted.

It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. How he’d look at you when you caught onto something quick or the reassurance he’d quickly give when you didn’t. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the windows and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.

You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung to life when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.

It made it hard to listen and remember the instructions he told you, like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.

He never expounded on the or else, but negative consequences were heavily implied.

“You’re such a jerk,” you rebut, but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.

“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he begins cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.

Your heart is still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.

“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimick him and begin helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.

Eddie watches you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze is lit with mischief as you tease him, and he can't help but smile to himself.

“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellows as he came down the stairs from his office. He eyes the mess you made with a stern, critical eye that shifts over the concession stand and back to you.

The air still smells of burnt kernels and puffs of smoke still swirl in the air - highlighted by the afternoon sun peeking through the windows.

You can’t help the way you shrink under his scrutiny.

“I know this may just be some summer job to you, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week, I will make sure this one fires you.” He points a fat finger at Eddie before turning his attention to him. 

Munson’s face has gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tense.

“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjects.

“Clean it up,” Huntzberger orders before disappearing into the ticket booth.

“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You question more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tense as you tie the trash bag containing the burnt kernels before pulling it from the bin.

“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudges you with a wink, wiping the inside of the soiled popcorn machine with a clean rag.

“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggle and walk towards the exit doors that lead to the alley behind the cinema.

Eddie drops the rag into the popcorn machine, following you outside.

The summer air is suffocating with its humidity—the sharp stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters causing you to wince as you approach the dumpster.

“Don’t do that. It’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grows wider as he walks in step with you.

He was all self-deprecation all the time, and you begin to wonder how much of it he really believes—the thought causing a pang of sadness to twist in your gut.

You lift the bag over your head, but he stops you, taking it from your grasp and hoisting it into the metal canister.

“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you begin, brushing your hands off and looking up at him. Eyes nearly squinted closed from the intensity of the sun.

“What’s not?” He questions, leaning against a brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.

You stand in front of him, toe to toe, trying to hide the way your gaze dances over his face. Tracing the freckles that line his nose and admiring the dimple pushed into his cheek as he smiles at you.

And fuck, he’s caught you staring.

“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you clear your throat, “you have lots of talents-“

“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupts, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” but the words sound more affectionate than irked.

“I’m being serious,” you begin again, “I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”

You shrug, doing your best to be nonchalant.

“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continue with a small laugh.

“For all things useless,” he corrects. 

You poke his side causing him to flinch away from your touch, swatting your hand in the process.

“I mean it!” You insist, gaze holding his. 

It’s the exact look you get when you’re excited about something, and Eddie chuckles, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you’re giving him.

“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he jokes, but you continue to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.

“Is it working?” You retort, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.

For a brief moment, you see his confident facade falter - his eyes darting between your eyes and the plush of your lips as he swallows hard. 

But in an instant, it returns.

“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winks and turns back to the building.

There it was again.

Your heart stops, skips, and starts again as you will your legs to move. You watch his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You coming?” He doesn’t stop walking, and you take wide steps to catch up with him.

Before you walk back through the door, you grab his arm and turn him to face you. He’d successfully evaded your compliments before, but you needed him to know it wasn’t empty praise.

“I meant what I said, Eds.” 

He looks at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow but doesn’t verbalize his confusion so you continue on.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you squeeze his arm softly so he can feel your sincerity.

When he doesn’t say anything, you release his appendage with an uncertain grin and pull open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.

Eddie watches your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you work. 

You wipe the counters and finish cleaning the popcorn machine, carefully following Eddie’s instructions while he sets up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things are organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.

He looks at you every so often, and you try to hide the way his subtle attention affects you, keeping your head down and focused on counting your till. Having to recount when you catch him looking again.

But finally, you’re ready for the day; doors unlocked, and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A small line of moviegoers already stood in front of the ticket booth.

The two of you rest your backs against the counter, waiting for the first customer to approach, when Eddie leans over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.

The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

—————

Now:

Eddie clamors into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudges to the kitchen and swings open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that is nearly gone.

He spreads out on the couch and chugs one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Uncle Wayne had been gone for nearly a week on another cross-country drop-off, and Eddie usually enjoyed having the place to himself, but now the silence engulfed him.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly as the seconds pass, his thoughts clashing into each other.

—————

Then:

Eddie tries to keep his attention on the TV as you enter the room for the fourth time that afternoon.

Rick shakes his head, taking a quick absent look in your direction.

“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughs as you disappear back into your room.

Eddie scoffs at his words, but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.

“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudges his arm against Rick’s, eyes still trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target, but his mind wanders behind the wood of your door. Wondering what you’re doing and if Rick might actually be right.

“Like I’d let you,” he chuckles, breaking Munson’s train of thought.

Eddie’s brow twists in confusion, and it isn’t lost on Rick. 

He turns to his friend with a flippant roll of his eyes and a gentle nudge against the metalhead’s shoulder. Prepared to emphasize his point.

“Oh, come on. I love you, man, but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”

Eddie chuckles along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words.

He knows all the things that people don’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned, but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.

He can’t help but wonder if you see him that way, a loser with no future—just the town freak. 

And in that moment, he promises himself that he’ll never put himself out there to know.

—————

Now:

Eddie presses his palm to his eye, a headache building behind his orbital bone. 

Rick’s words reverberate off his skull as he grapples with the feelings he’s long ignored. The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.

Eddie can still feel your lips against his, the electricity still humming in his veins, and fuck, he wishes it had lasted a moment longer.

He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winces every time he thinks about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

Eddie knows that if it went further, you’d only regret it once the sun rose and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.

Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.

He isn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knows that much, has been told that much, and already accepts it as truth.

When girls got with Eddie, they expected fun. They expected drugs and a quick hookup.

Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him in town, and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.

God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.

Eddie decides that it’s better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he feels. To spare himself from the regret he knew you’d eventually feel.

—————

Now:

It’s a rainy day, and fat drops bounce off the windshield as your father drives. Faster than usual. 

In a hurry but you don’t know where to.

The air conditioner is off, creating a layer of condensation on the windows. Making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.

You draw butterflies on the glass, a small finger tracing against the cool pane. Grinning wide as your drawings expose the gray sky and the way the dark clouds roll quickly against its expanse.

The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever plays over the radio, but your parent’s voices are louder.

Angrier.

Your mom sniffles, and you lean up in your seat to see if she’s crying, but the length of her hair conceals her face from view.

“Mama,” you push against her seat with your sneakered foot, but she doesn’t respond.

“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insists, tugging at your father’s arm, but he shoves her off. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and pull at your mom’s shirt, trying to get her attention.

“Mom.”

But your voice is cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reaches for the dial turning it until your ears ring.

You shrink back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you look between the two of them. No longer able to understand what your parents are saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces making you more confused.

Your mother pulls on your dad’s arm again, and he shoves her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he speaks, but you still can’t understand what he’s saying.

Everything else becomes a blur of lights and pain—endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.

Your cries wrack your body but are silent to your own ears. The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.

Then darkness.

-

You wake up in a cold sweat, wild gaze darting around the room as sit up in bed. The fabric of your tank top clings to your sweat-slicked skin uncomfortably, and your head pounds behind your eyes. A rhythm that matches the way your heart is beating against your ribcage. 

Bile rises in your throat, the nausea that always accompanies the nightmare.

The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.

You press a palm into the skin of your thigh, massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that’s a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh. It aches like it just happened, like you are ten years old and trapped in that car again. 

You groan uncomfortably and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to the present. Trying to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast. The soft song of the birds outside of your window.

Slowly you become grounded, heart settling into a steady rhythm, and open your eyes.

Sunlight streams through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues creating a soft glow along your pale blue walls and highlighting the dust that dances through the air.

You throw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. 

Images of the night before flooding your vision.

Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.

The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.

You press your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you see swirls. Until you are reminded of Eddie’s stunned face when you sat in his lap, hands pressed to his chest. The way he bucked into you.

The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

“Fucking idiot,” you groan with embarrassment and pull your pillow over your face, letting out a muffled scream.

You stay concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Definitely not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.

You flail your body around as another wave of embarrassment rolls through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.

The incessant buzz of your phone catches your attention, and you glance over at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you can see without grabbing it.

Hesitantly you reach for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.

11:55PM

Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?

12:00AM

Simon: helloooo?

12:23AM

Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?

Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once

1:03AM

Simon: so you did show up

Simon: you left with MUNSON?

2:30AM

Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?

2:33AM

Rachel: (Y/N)?

Rachel: Simon is really worried about you

7:49AM

Simon: We need to talk

8:36AM

Rachel: Text me when you’re awake

You swallow the emotion that arose and wonder if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.

Were they even capable of that?

Slowly you push the sheets off the bed and force your legs over the edge one by one until your feet are planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your purple comforter.

You will yourself off the mattress and clamor out your bedroom door. Mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.

The throb of your head returns as the smell of burnt toast grows stronger, and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?

You can only assume the assault on your nose is your brother’s fault.

“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complain loudly as you stumble into the kitchen and throw open a cabinet door, reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

You turn towards the sink, blissfully unaware that there is a set of eyes on you. Watching as you whistle and fill your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you can hear.

Eddie watches you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.

He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.

His eyes trace over your legs, stalling on the swell of your ass. He watches as you lean over the counter to get a better view of the lake from the window just above your sink. The angle exposing a glimpse of your butt cheeks.

It’s like you know what you’re doing, know that he’s watching and driving him just a little bit insane.

He swallows harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he’d planned.

“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greets, his words dripping with their usual sarcasm.

You turn around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging from your skull when you notice Eddie, and you grip your cup harder.

Had he been sitting there the whole time?

He quietly nibbles on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.

The embarrassment you felt before flares awake, and god, you want to crawl into a hole and disappear entirely.

Blinking rapidly, you shift your gaze back to Rick.

He sits at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.

“Have work today?”

“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrug, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.

You sip your water, focusing on how its cool temperature slides across your tongue—trying to focus on anything else.

“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”

You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time just being a passenger. 

“Can’t mom take me?” you question, but Rick’s head is already shaking as you get the words out.

“The transmission is acting up in her car. Need to look at it,” he states around a mouth full of food.

“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and fold your arms over your chest.

“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestures to his head and shovels more food into his mouth.

“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”

Your shoulders sag—the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.

“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggest with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. 

The walk isn’t that long.

“Your uber is already here,” he points his head towards Eddie, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at his suggestion.

Not happening.

“I can just walk,” you reaffirm quickly, causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” 

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.” You unfold your arms and gestured absently towards him.

It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.

“He’s not, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” you scoff, voice rising slightly and definitely being weird.

“Besides, I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. 

Rick doesn’t need to know that you aren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.

Eddie’s elbow settles against the wooden dining table as he watches you and the way you so easily lie to your brother.

“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother holds out a hand to get you to shut up and chugs his orange juice. 

You reach for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick grabs your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turns to you—his face twists in disgust when he notices what you’re wearing for the first time.

“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wipes his mouth and waves a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own lame joke before biting into the bacon that you tried to steal.

Eddie chuckles along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink. His faux laugh disappears when he notices you sneering in his direction.

“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice drips with sarcasm as you roll your eyes, taking quick steps back down the hall and to your room.

You press your back against the wooden door, a mix of anger and annoyance filling your chest. Overtaking any embarrassment you previously felt.

No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.

—————

What you didn’t plan on was for it to start raining ten minutes in. 

Large drops had fallen from the sky in quick succession, dark clouds covering the warmth of the sun and creating a chill in the fall air. One of Indiana’s infamous sporadic showers.

The maple leaves are already starting to turn yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smells of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.

Your feet trudge through the mud, splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. The road feels longer in the bad weather.

The white of your assistant manager shirt clings to your skin, revealing the pink of your bra, and you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to conceal it.

There’s a small part of you that wishes you had just taken the ride from Eddie, but there’s a bigger part, the more prideful one, that is glad you hadn’t.

Not after the way he’d laughed at you, chuckled at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.

To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like the fabric of your shirt.

In the distance, you can hear a car approaching, and you move further into the dirt to avoid being hit. 

Hoping it isn’t a creep or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.

But it’s worse.

It’s Eddie.

Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.

“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He questions, although he already knows the answer.

“Go away, Munson.”

You don’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Simon a no-show, huh?”

You click your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.

“Looks like it.”

His shoulders drop as you continue to ignore him, and he decides to appeal to your sensible side instead.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“So?”

And why did he think you could be sensible?

He groans and speeds up a little, parking the car just before you to block your path. You stop in your tracks, listening as he climbs out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car.

“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questions as he trudges toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild and starting to cling to his face when he looks at you.

“Do what?” You give him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically. 

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Just get in the fucking car,” he states through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice drops low, mocking Rick’s tone. 

You drop your smile, gaze a little cold as it meets his, and push past him to continue your walk to work.

He throws his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He turns to you, watching as you get a little further way from him.

“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turn around and begin to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. 

A little tired, a little defeated, and you stop beside his van waiting for his answer - concealed from the rest of the road.

“Laughing at you,” his voice is earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”

You nod, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he’d pushed you away from him.

Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.

“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You question, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approaches.

He swallows roughly and debates whether he should be honest. 

“I’m,” he pauses and sighs heavily, “I’m not sorry about that.”

You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance doesn’t affect you the way that it did. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turn back around, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.

“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”

His hand is warm against your arm as he spins you around to look at him.

Your shoes slide against the wet earth from the force, and it is for a brief moment that you see him before you crash into the soft mud.

“Fuck-“ your curses are synchronized as you fall and pull him atop you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.

Eddie’s knee is slotted between your legs as he lifts his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you begin to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.

You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt now painted brown. Ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair is a mess of dirt that clings to your face.

Eddie is nearly devoid of any filth. The only evidence he’d fallen is the mud that soaks through the pants of his jeans. 

And it’s a little bit annoying how he isn’t as muddy as you.

Slowly you reach your finger up and slide it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows marry at your actions, the way his jaw juts to this side and he shakes his head.

“You brat,” he lifts a hand and attempts to copy your actions as you try to wiggle away. His free hand stills you, holding you by the waist, as he drags the other across your cheek.

His playful smile mirrors yours.

“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone doesn’t match the light in your eyes.

“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”

His eyes roam your body, noticing the way your nipples are pebbled against the pink lace of your bra, easy to see through the sheer fabric of your shirt. The way your jeans hug the flare of your hips as you squirm beneath him.

Your breath hitches as you watch the way his gaze dances over your frame, chest rising and falling at a quick pace that isn’t lost on Eddie.

“How much time do you have before work?” His voice is a little gruff, affected, and it takes a moment for you to form a coherent thought.

You blink rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently, and clear your throat.

He lifts off of you and reaches a hand to help you up, but you pull him down into the mud beside you.

“You little shit!” Eddie looks at himself, the mud that clings to his jacket and jeans.

“Oops,” you shrug and lean out of his way as he throws mud at you.

“I have like two hours,” you laugh, looking at him completely amused.

“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lays there defeated, chuckle matching yours.

“I don’t know, it was just in case-“

“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”

“Shut up,” you shove his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.

Eddie gasps at the same time you do, realization dawning as he tackles you back into the mud.

It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you try to wiggle away from him.

Your giggles fill the air, and you push at his chest.

“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears spring in your eyes as you push against his chest once more, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.

“Say please,” he insists, and you shake your head, hands gripping his shirt.

For a moment, he stops, fingers stilling at your sides and he smiles at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer, and your smile falters briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.

“You don’t regret it?” He questions, needing to hear it again. His breath fanning against your face.

You shake your head, already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted. 

Eddie leans closer, his lips a whisper above your own. Shaky breaths mixing with yours.

Your heart skips as you anticipate the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie pulls away, slowly. Hesitantly.

“Think we should get you back home,” he looks down at your dirtied clothes and chuckles, face hovering above yours. You try to hide your disappointment as you nod in agreement.

He pushes himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.

Your palm slides against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand, and he pulls you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settle on your waist.

His nose traces yours as his fingers dig into your hips, and he swallows hard.

The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipping away.

You tilt your face and run a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Thumb lazing against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.

“Fuck it,” Eddie breathes, and his lips push against yours.

The press of them makes you gasp, they’re just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.

His tongue presses at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you open for him.

He tastes sweet like spearmint, and you hum.

Exhilaration thrums through you, and you pull him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.

Chest to chest.

Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace, and you want the moment to stretch on.

For the kiss to never end.

Thunder cracks in the air and the two of you pull apart, looking up at the darkened sky just as the rain begins to fall again.

Eddie looks back at you, his dimpled grin wide as the first drop hits his cheek, and you yelp as another drop cascades down your face.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melt into his touch.

“Will you please get in the fucking car now?” 

You nod rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.

-

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[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? 

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar. 

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern. 

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips. 

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer. 

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic where he feels you are being distant and starts to overthink which leads to him asking if you were going to break up with him out of nowhere and it causes a small argument…. angst to comfort perhaps. Get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you for your time!☀️

Velvet Mood — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something’s on his mind, and you don’t know what it is. You’re determined to find out; you just didn’t think it’d be about whether or not you’re planning to break up with him.

Word Count: 810+

Disclaimer/s — Nothing, angst to comfort!

A/N: I’M ILL. THIS. + their argument wasn’t what I had hoped but I lowkey got stumped so, let’s knock it off. Thank.

Arda was distant. Too distant. It worried you a lot.

It all began when you came home one day, utterly exhausted from a long day at work. You longed for nothing more than a shower, some food, and to collapse into bed. That was all you could muster.

Arda brushed a hand over your hair, and you felt the soft touch of his lips against your temple. “Hey, how was work? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘M tired,” you grumbled, “It was very grueling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to watch some TV?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you shake your head in response to his question. “Not now, please.”

It was a small, simple response, yet it had him thinking the absolute worst. Most days, you’d agree and just fall asleep with your head resting lazily against his chest and your legs thrown over his lap. But to receive a ‘Not now, please’?

It was… different. He didn’t quite like it at all.

Since then, the things you used to do were starting to become memories. A simple thought now captured the feeling of contentment.

You tried to talk to him. He simply brushed it off. Brushed you off. In all honesty, you were slowly becoming tired of it. Day by day. Like a routine.

Today would likely end the same way. You’d try to talk to him, he’d give you nothing to work with, and then you’d call it a night. You’ve fought. Maybe not subtly, but you still fought. Tried to.

“Arda,” you started softly, “How was your day?”

His eyebrows raised for just a split second before he shrugged his shoulders. You saw the way his jaw clenched, it confused you. “It was fine. You?”

“Fine, too. Can… I want to talk to you about—”

That was when he uttered your name, cutting you off, “Listen, are you going to break up with me?”

What? You voiced your exact thoughts, “What?”

“Are you?” He echoed, his voice firm. Though you could tell he was clearly upset. Arda was upset.

You were at a complete loss for words. The only question that escaped your lips, filled with curiosity, was, “Where is this coming from? Did I do something, Arda? I need you to talk to me.”

Did I do something, you had asked. He could’ve laughed. “Did you? Or, did I do something.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Where is this—I’m confused, why is this even a question? I love you, you know that. So, where is this coming from?”

“Don’t give me that,” the man sighed, averting his gaze. “You’ve changed. You seem tired. Tired with me. Of me. And if that’s the case, I need to know.”

‘Tired of me.’ Tired of him? You were never tired of him. You never have been, and you were sure you never would be. Ever. Your job had been weighing you down, of course, but you never thought it’d slowly but surely impact your relationship like this with your boyfriend. It never crossed your mind.

You felt a crushing weight of guilt in your heart.

Taking a step toward him, you began, “I’m not tired of you. And… no, I’m not breaking up with you. God, never that, okay? I’ve been working extra hours, and it’s starting to take its toll on me. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I don’t want you to keep thinking that. Trust me when I say that I love you. Because I do. So much.”

His expression softened at your explanation. You weren’t planning on breaking up with him. Arda couldn’t help but feel a little foolish. He knew the promotion you got would have its effect. He just didn’t realize how worn out it’d make you.

It all started to make sense. Oh, how dumb.

The brunette felt his entire body relax and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you. I didn’t mean to just let it out. Put you on the spot.”

“No, no, hey, I’m glad that you did,” you assured, quickly lifting your hand and using it to cup his jaw. “I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t have found out how you felt. How about we make one of those calendars? We can set, like, dates, and days where it’ll be dedicated to just us. How’s that?”

“You’d let me know if you’re too tired for them?”

A smile slowly spread across your face, “I would.”

Arda hums softly at that, leaning down to place a gentle peck to your temple. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I’m really starting to hate your job,” he muttered.

And you laughed. Of course he did. He would. All you did was let out a laugh, “But, you love me.”

The Güler man hummed once more, “I love you.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 26-28

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers below! CW: Outbursts, Mentions of stabbing/killing, unhealthy obsessing.

"So how you holding up Sif?" (You suddenly snap back to reality and look over to Isa, now left alone as the other three had left for the market.)

"What do you mean?" (You ask, confused by the sudden question.)

"You looked a little zoned out there, and getting to see Vale again, and Nille, it's just a lot right now, even if it's good stuff. So... Just wanted to check in with you!" (He gives his trademark bright smile, and you can't help but smile back.)

"It is a lot... but it's good, the family's back together again, even L-Vale now... I just... I really hope it works out this time."

"This time?" (CRAB!!)

"Y-You know! Like, having them around... I want them to fit in is all!" (A more serious look appears on his face. There's no way he bought that...)

"Sif... You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I do! I know! I... I'm sorry, but it involves them a lot too, and I can't talk about it without them." (Your voice falters a bit, the topic making you uncomfortable as you start to scratch absentmindedly at your arms. His large, gentle hand meet yours after a moment, trying to calm you down.)

"Hey, it's okay, I understand. I just worry, y'know? But if you're sure it's okay for now then I can wait!" (He smiles at you again. You place your head on his shoulder, closing your eye with a relieved sigh.)

"I love you Isa."

"I love you too Sif."

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

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom~." (Vale explains before leaving the table and conversation. They seemed especially uneasy since Nille left to help Bonbon in the kitchen a few minutes ago, probably still struggling being around everyone else...)

"Siffrin, is there, uhm… Is Vale uncomfortable around us?" (Mira asks, it seems you weren't the only one to notice.)

"They're… just shy, you know? Not used to new people! That's all!" (You try to smile convincingly.)

"Right…" (Crab.)

"They just need some time to warm up is all!" (Isa to the rescue, as always. Thank the stars.)

"They were stuck in the loops too afterall! Sif was the only one they really interacted with, right?"

"No wonder they're so on edge." (Odile chimes in with a little tease, not even looking up from her book.)

"H-Hey!?" (Mira and Isa can't help but snort and snicker at your expense. It WAS a pretty good joke you guess…)

"Though we should discuss what our next course of action is, now that Nille has found us. I assume we'll still head to Bambouche for their sakes, then continue our little reunion tour? I imagine you'd like to return to Jouvente at some point Isabeau?" (Odile begins to plan aloud to get us all on the same page.)

"Eventually, sure, I'm in no rush! But what about you, M'dame? Don't you want to go back to Ka Bue too?" (Odile pauses for a moment, glancing over at you. You must have been making some kind of face considering how she raises a brow at you.)

"I believe our little time traveler here already knows the answer to that question." (You look away nervously.)

"It's uhh... complicated? I don't think Odile cares about returning anytime soon." (You try to keep it vague, to which she nods. Her eyes casually return to her book before she speaks up again.)

"Very astute of you, Siffrin. If I do happen to return, it will likely be out of obligation more than anything else. I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to, like the fact you're still looping."

"I wouldn't exactly call that pressing..."

"Th-This isn't something you should just put off Siffrin! What if it just keeps getting out on the back burner and suddenly you're right back where you started again?!" (Mira chimes in in a panic.)

"I'm not saying we just ignore it forever! Just... we have some time at least, and Odile stopped me from looping once already! If anyone's gonna know what to do, it'll be her, right?"

"I stopped it in the moment, preventing you from looping ever again is a whole ordeal in and of itself. It will take a lot of research on a subject that no one knows anything about, and another that is purely theoretical. I may be good at what I do but I'm not a miracle worker."

"You might not think so." (You chuckle a bit. No matter how many times it happens, she still managed to surprise you over the years with new breakthroughs and theories on craft, sadnesses, and otherwise. She smirks a bit as her eyes remain on her book.)

"While your confidence in my is flattering, I'd still like to tackle this subject sooner rather than later."

"Alright, we'll get to Bambouche and go from there, okay? For now I'm just glad we're all together again..." (Your expression falls to a bittersweet one. You feel Isa's hand on your shoulder, giving a light squeeze and smiling brightly at you. You lay your head against his side and close your eye, savoring the embrace.)

"Dinner'll be ready in a few!... Hey, where'd Vale go?" (Nille asks, stepping back in from the kitchen.)

"Oh! They went to the restroom! B-But it's been a while, hasn't it? should someone check on them?"

"I better do it, y'all sit tight!" (Nille quickly takes the offer to ensure no one else would, heading off to find them.)

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

"Before I explain this, it's not their fault, please don't blame them, they were going through a lot and I didn't notice how it was affecting them and I told their secret an-" (You start to explain at a million miles a minute, too frantic to be processed properly even as Nille lightly grabs your shoulders to snap you out of it.)

"Hey, easy, just start at the beginning okay?" (She tries to comfort you, to which you nod and take a deep breath.)

"... When I first looped back all those years, I was... frozen? I was panicking, stuck in my head, I thought it must be a dream or something, there's no way this was really happening, right?... And then I heard their voice... and all of that just went away." (You glance over at Vale. They look... confused? Shocked maybe? You guess you never got the chance to tell them this part.)

"I ran to find them right after, as fast as I could, and... I was just so happy to see them, I didn't think about how they were feeling... forced to be back, I'd been through so much and they were just left behind... and then I dragged them along back here to force them into a family they didn't want any part in."

"Stardust... That's..."

"It's true Vale, and I'm sorry. I really don't blame you for what happened." (Vale just looks away, clearly not agreeing, but they can tell they won't change your mind. Nille still looks very confused, waiting for the story to continue.)

"So things seemed fine for a little while, but then Odile noticed I was doing a little too well, and I told her about everything... including their secret, which they made me promise not to tell." (You really were hamming up how awful you had been, even if you didn't realize it. It was your fault after all, Vale can't be punished for that.)

"Vale found out what I did, they were already on the verge of snapping and that pushed them over the edge, so... they had to go back, before I dragged them to the party... They had to make us all loop back..." (Nille takes a second to process all of this, before her eyes widen, realizing what you were implying.)

"Frin, tell me what happened, please." (She asks, her eyes looking almost desperate, as if asking you to assure her it's not what she thinks.)

"Vale... They..."

"I STABBED HIM! I SHOVED HIS OWN DAGGER INTO HIS HEART AND FORCED HIM BACK, OKAY?! I'M A MONSTER AND A MURDERER!!!" (You jump back as they suddenly start screaming out. You look back to the door, thankful no one else was there at the moment. Nille pulls herself away from their outburst. Looking scared, confused, conflicted.)

"N-No! You're not Vale, you knew I'd be fine! You knew I'd loop!"

"And what if you didn't?!?! What if it all ended right there?!? How could I do such a thing?! How could I take that risk?! How could I hurt you like that?!" (Their eyes were wide and crazed, they gripped their hair painfully tight. They looked ready to snap again. Before you could try to comfort them, Nille was already holding their face to try and snap their out of it.)

"Hey hey hey! Vale, Calm down please." (They stopped suddenly, tears flowing from their eyes and staring back at Nille, surprised they weren't being treated like the monster they thought they were.)

"You made a mistake... a big one, sure, but a mistake none the less. Frin's okay now, right?"

"B-But... I killed them... H-how could anyone forgive me for that?..."

"Well, Frin did, and that's the most important person to do so I'd say... It's a lot to take in alright, still not really sure how I feel about it right now... but I'm not just gonna hate you for it, especially after everything." (Vale stares up at her, they look confused, their eyes darting about as they try to piece something together.)

"I doubt you want to go back in there tonight. Maybe you should stay at the Inn for tonight, cool off a little..."

"Y-Yes... that sounds like it's for the best..." (Before Vale can get too far, Nille lightly grabs their arm to keep them from going too far.)

"This doesn't give you permission to run away though! Remember... you made a promise." (She smiles softly then lets go.)

"... Right... I promise." (Vale can't hold eye contact with either of you for more than a second, slowly starting to walk off again.)

"We'll see you tomorrow, Vale?..." (You plead. They nod back at you before fully turning away. The both of you watch as they slowly vanish from view towards the town center.)

"... Hey, Frin? Are you sure you're okay?" (Nille starts to speak again, now that Vale was safely out of earshot.)

"... It's not that bad, I promise."

"But they killed you Frin... I know they've got issues but... I didn't think they'd be capable of doing that." (Nille holds her arms, gripping them a bit too tightly.)

"They're not! They knew I'd be okay! I'm still looping, it's fine! They would never have done it if they knew it wouldn't happen, like when-" (You cut yourself off, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth.)

"... When what?"

"... After the loops 'ended' the first time, I went to find them... That's when they admitted who they were, and they kinda... snapped. They attacked me, they were ranting and raving, they spent all that time just watching me do it and have an easier time than they ever did, everything they went through and my loops were practically a walk in the park in comparison... But when they had me beaten they couldn't do it! They wouldn't! They're not capable of that I swear!!!" (You do your best to convince her... and possibly yourself in the process. You still blame yourself for what happened, you just don't want Vale to suffer for it.)

"Frin... I'm not saying we should just send them on their merry way or anything but... they still attacked you, they still stabbed you... I don't know if you should just act like that's fine and forget it ever happened..."

"Nille... I've had a very long time to think about this. I've missed them for decades, and now they're finally back... I'm not going to do anything to mess that up, so please don't do so either." (You don't realize it until it's already happened, your face turning to a colder, darker expression. It felt vaguely familiar, likely similar to how you looked in those later loops... Nille looks a bit unnerved by it.)

"Siffrin, that's not healthy! Don't you think you're being a bit obsessive about thi-"

"I don't care!" (Nille jolts in shock, stepping back at your outburst. You stop before you lose it too much, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.)

"I just want them back... I just want them to be happy... I had 30 years of a wonderful life with all of you while they got nothing... Isn't that unfair? Isn't that a tragedy? They go through all the pain and suffering and I just come in and replace them?!"

"Frin! That's no-"

"NO! They're the only reason I'm here! They're the only reason I got to be happy for all this time! So don't you dare get in the way of me making it up to them!" (You snap. Nille stares down at you in a mix of shock and nerves. She looks over you a bit, as if trying to work out the best way to deal with this situation. You sigh and take a step back, making yourself smaller as you duck into your cloak a little.)

"I'm sorry... but please, don't... don't ruin this for me... I need this. I need them... Good night Nille." (You excuse yourself before you say anything else you may regret. You head back inside, ignoring anything she or anyone else may be saying to you as you pass. You reach your room and settle in for bed, not wanting to deal with this day any longer.)

[onlycosmere]

Cosmere/Magic the Gathering

'What IP do you most want to see in Magic the Gathering?' Thunderwoodd: Stormlight Archive!

thyfoolish1: Brandon said they reached out to him and he was excited and ready to go but they haven't gotten back to him. I think this was Dragonsteel last year. So there is hope.

Egi_: Even after the shitshow with the free book he gave them on the condition it wouldn't be commercialized and then WotC commercialized it?

Brandon Sanderson: I knew what I was getting into working with a big corporation. Like the proverbial frog giving a ride to a scorpion, I don't see justification for complaint regarding the eventual sting. I love the game, and the designers, so that's really my metric. As a note, everyone I worked with on the narrative team was wonderful.

I don't want a passing secret lair of five cards; I am interested in a full-blown set, so with that constraint, I wouldn't foresee a Stormlight or Mistborn crossover until one of several things happens:

1) They burn through the bigger properties that match MTG's vibe like LOTR did. Fantasy, or science fantasy, properties that feel legit as a big expansions. As mentioned in this thread alone, there is a pretty deep mine there. Dune, Witcher, Elder Scrolls, Arcane/LoL, Westeros (if they're feeling spicy.) A hobbit set is all but inevitable as well.

Considering they'd be unwise to put these sorts of things out too quickly, and should really give them time to breathe, we're looking at ten years easily before they're out of larger fish to fry. Stormlight is big for a book series, but without any shows/films/games, I'd suspect it doesn't have the casual word-of-mouth reach their marketing team looks for to justify the extra expense of licensing fees.

2) Said bigger properties decide they aren't interested, leaving things popular but without media representation. If they ever decided to experiment with a book-only series, I suspect I'd be very high on the list to approach.

3) Cosmere gets one of said media properties, something I'm actively trying to accomplish--but it is slow going, as I'm in the fortunate position of being able to be very picky about partners, and prefer to take my time.

I've made it clear to them that if a large-scale set were in the, ahem, cards, I'd be willing to make frequent trips to Seattle to be part of the design team on said set.

awakenedjunkofigure: If any author deserves the pick of the litter for production companies, it's absolutely you. Can't wait to see what your books would look like on-screen!!

Brandon Sanderson: Well, the answer to what they'd look like on screen is "Expensive," which a part of the problem...

schloopers: Any large consideration in your mind for spoilers versus fully representing a world or story?

Stormlight you’d of course want all 10 Orders, so spoilers are far as those are concerned are a given.

But maybe a legendary creature “Iron Eyes” instead of any spoiler specific proper names?

I ask because I have so far gotten one friend in the playgroup to start reading, and a couple full sets would for sure help in garnering interest, but I would worry for the story beats getting too greatly revealed out of context.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just unavoidable. I’ve had several Dr. Who episodes “spoiled” for me through that set.

Brandon Sanderson:  This is something I haven't given a lot of thought toward, but I perhaps should be mulling it over. You make a good point.

Thunderwoodd: Woah! Can’t believe you responded. Huge fan! And I loved your commander cube! Saw it on Game Knights right after I finished Rhythm of War.

Curious, do you think the Radiant orders could correspond to guilds or color wedges?

Brandon Sanderson: Yes, I've done thought experiments on that, and think guilds could actively work for them without too much trouble. Problem is, would we want a Stormlight set or just a Knights Radiant set, because ten guilds for ten orders is already a high demand. It might be better to make a wedge set, but the problem there is that the Radiants are actively all colors, so it would be hard to cut out any save black. (Willshaper individuality and artistic expression could be green red instead of red black, for example.) So maybe five four-color wedges? I think the lore could support this, and be something that MTG has had trouble conveying without the expansive worldbuilding an entire book series could provide.

Radiants and sapient spren (all but black, to indicate the inherent selfless Radiant cause)

Human Nations (all but green, to indicate triumph over nature, which is an antagonist on Roshar.)

Singers (All but blue, to indicate the lack of ability to plan for the future, dearth of scholars, and onset of madness in the fused.)

Non-sapient Spren and wildlife (All but white, to indicate lack of overriding societal structures.)

Secret Societies (All but red, indicting the deliberate and conscious planning of these groups.)

Four color signpost uncommons would be WILD, even with hybrid mana. So I can see the design team balking. This (four color guild set) is almost certainly something they've explored and specifically decided not to do.

mediocreattbest: It’s crazy coming onto this post to say “any cosmere set!” And then see you actually replying. Out of curiosity, would you prefer just a stormlight set or a cosmere-wide set? I’d love to see characters through their stories (like we had with the LotR set)

Brandon Sanderson: I'd prefer Stormlight or Mistborn alone, as the planets themselves are so much a part of the stories.

[blackenedsnow]

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

[majoriehoax]

INTRODUCING 90'S SKATER BOY.ᐟ ART

+ BOT RELEASE

.ᐟ disclaimer: this post includes heavily suggestive and adult topics

skaterboy! art who keeps his blonde hair long and hanging in his face or messily shoved under a hat or beanie, skaterboy! art who doesn't pay much attention to his outfits mostly only throws on a baggy band tee layered with a flannel,baggy jeans and a pair of rundown converse or vans, skater boy! art always carries a backpack with him covered in numbered buttons you have gotten him over the time,he loves putting them all on display and if the boys at the skatepark ask he can proudly say his partner got them for him

skaterboy! art is confident in himself and his skills,he is effortlessly cool,he is typically relaxed and unbothered, skaterboy! art loves having you at the skatepark with him just placing you on a random bank while he skates the ramps,always shooting you a look or stop between runs to press a kiss on your face,especially when he catches other boys stare at you for too long, skaterboy! art has a thing for nicknames and unironically calls you doll,skaterboy! art is a touchy guy,he can't keep his hands off you especially your ass,pushing his hand in the back pocket of your jeans squeezing the flesh,skaterboy! art loves punk rock, alternative, or hip-hop, with bands like blink-182, green Day, or new-wave punk,he definitely takes you to their concerts or is lending you his CDS

skaterboy! art doesn't have much an idea of what to do with his life,he spends most time at the skatepark when he's not working part time at the local 7/11 serving slushies, skaterboy! art makes you mixtapes for every month of your relationship and draws messy flames and hearts on the cd and smiles the proudest when he shows it to you 'look what i did at the internet cafe doll,just for you baby.', skaterboy! art who plays nintendo 64 or playstation all day when it rains,having you placed in his lap in his messy room,whining when you try to move, skaterboy! art definitely pushes you on your knees once he gets bored of his game and makes you suck him off just because why not ? the game is boring and you look so nice in his lap, skaterboy! art who is so bad at taking you on dates that they mostly contain of going to the mall, the movies or the arcade, he does win you a very odd looking plushie everytime though so you can't complain, skaterboy! art who definitely smokes too many cigarettes and weed, whenever you tell him to quit he just goes 'i am doing good babe,don't worry nothings gonna happen' (he once had to catch a guy who stole a bottle of liquor and almost threw up on the side walk from the way his lungs burned), skaterboy! art definitely owns a build out VW van and bends you over in the back,he does not care that the van shakes and your moans echo through the empty parking lot (this man does not care about protection btw,he just hopes for the best or finishs on your back)

skaterboy! art bot here

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next big bot release ? ➫ September 30th

ALSOOOO THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR, 200 ON CAI AND ALMOST 20K CHATS ON CAI ! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH 💞

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 2. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Dark themes are to be expected.

A/N: Big thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and reads this one! This chapter has a lot of focus on Jongho. I'm honestly not happy how this turned out, but I hope at least someone will find it enjoyable! I appreciate feedback, so if the story feels too slow for example, please tell me. Also, don't worry; there will be more about the other members later on in the story! I just don't want to make the pace or character development too fast or overwhelming. Please, forgive me; English isn't my first language.

Word count: 3 477

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Sometimes you really wished you had a car. If you just had the nerves to drive you wouldn’t have to wait for the bus in the icy air. 

There was nothing wrong with the waiting itself. At least you usually had time for your own thoughts and breathing to settle down, when you waited for the bus, for your psychiatrist to invite you in, or for work to start. You always arrived to your work place an hour too early to minimize the risk of being late. 

So sure, there was nothing wrong with waiting. The problem was that Jongho was standing next to you. 

You had wished to not meet anyone from the peer support group before the inevitable. Life was already hard enough, and you didn’t need any more stress by seeing one of the madmen from the group on your free time. Although Jongho was seemingly less insane than Yunho for example, he was in the group for a reason. 

You noticed how Jongho’s breathing was much calmer compared to yours. It would have seemed like he wasn’t breathing at all, if the soft fog didn’t form in the air near his mouth. That’s how silent he was. 

The little glances you took in his direction weren’t probably as secretive as you thought, but you didn’t care that much at the moment. He looked mesmerizing as the sun was soon to set in the horizon, casting light on his handsome features. 

Although he looked irritated that the Sun was shining directly in his face, you didn’t turn to look away. He narrowed his eyes, and you took advantage of the fact that he was blinded by the Sun and its rays reflecting from snow. 

“Stop staring at me.” 

You turned your gaze away quicker than it was humanly possible. How was Jongho able to see you looking at him? There was no way you could explain your actions without embarrassing yourself even more, so you just hung your head in shame. Maybe it would hide the blush on your cheeks. At least you could lie that it was just the cold air making your cheeks red, if Jongho happened to notice. 

It felt like the silence would never end. A few cars passed by occasionally, and you almost wished one of them would have picked you up and saved you from this uncomfortable situation. 

Suddenly you felt Jongho moving closer to you. A woman had squeezed in the bus shelter Jongho and you were already in. The small bus stop was getting way too crowded to your liking, although only three people were seeking shelter from the cold under it. 

Jongho stood so close to you. You noticed his breath had quickened. His gaze was directed straight forward strictly. Even if you exploded next to him without warning, he probably wouldn’t move his eyes. He was clearly determined not to look at you. 

The woman who just arrived could probably sense the awkward atmosphere too. 

“Why didn’t you tell your last name?” 

You didn’t know whether to be startled by his question, by the fact that he talked or that he even remembered that situation a whole week after it happened. 

Jongho wasn’t as suspicious as Yunho but something about him made a shiver run down your spine. Even his way of standing was enough to make you think he was untrustworthy. 

But it was possible – unlikely, but possible – that he was nothing more than socially anxious just like you. You knew at some point of your life you would have to trust people. Even the ones you had just met for the first time. Your whole life so far had been wasted by no-one else but yourself, because you were too afraid. 

“I’m worried that people will use my personal information against me,” you answered, already preparing yourself to be laughed at. 

It was so stupid. But it was inevitable for Jongho and the others to know about your condition and thoughts at some point. There was no use of a peer support group if you never opened up. 

Against your expectations, Jongho just nodded thoughtfully. 

“I see. It’s true that many people might do exactly that.” 

Your eyes widened a bit. Getting confirmation that you were in possible danger was new to you. Your psychiatrist and therapist always told you to believe good about people unless they proved you wrong, but Jongho was telling you otherwise. 

“You have to choose wisely who to trust. If anyone.” 

“Do you trust anyone?” you asked Jongho before you could stop yourself. 

Jongho was able to surprise you many times that day. You had expected him to get irritated by your question, to push you into the snowbank or under a car. Actually no, that was something Yunho would do. 

Jongho’s face was stable and emotionless, but his voice betrayed him miraculously during the one word he said. 

“No.” 

“Can I ask you a question as well?”  

“I wish I could say no,” Jongho replied to your nervous question. 

You raised a confused brow. It’s not like you were some tyrant, so why didn’t he refuse if he so wanted to? You asked your question anyways. 

“Are you going to the same bus as I am?” 

“Yes,” Jongho put his hands in his pockets. 

Before he could hide them inside the long, beige jacket, you noticed how red they were from the cold. He must have been freezing but played it off cool. 

“Do you want my other mitten?” you asked. 

Jongho couldn’t hide his surprise, and you were shocked at your own words as well. It was not like you to offer something of your own for a practically stranger to borrow. There was always a risk of him running off with your precious glove. He took a glance at your mittens. 

“They’re really warm,” you hoped your attempt to persuade him would turn out successful. 

A hint of something soft flashed in Jongho’s eyes before disappearing like it had never been there. He just put his other hand out, gesturing you to give the other mitten to him. 

As you gave the glove to him, your fingers brushed against his cold skin. 

“How did you know which bus I am taking?” you realized to ask. 

There was a possibility that you couldn’t ignore; Jongho could be stalking you. In just a week after the first session, he could have found out everything about you, including what bus you always took! 

“You already used your turn to ask a question.” 

Why was he avoiding answering? It made you even more suspicious. 

You made sure to sit as far away from him as possible on the bus. 

When you arrived to the therapy room, you had sincerely hoped you and Jongho would be the first ones there. The thought of someone, especially Yunho, looking at you as you walked in through the door made anxious, acid bubbles pop in your chest. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me and San today!” Wooyoung practically ran to you the moment you pushed the heavy door open to enter. 

Glancing at San who was sitting on one of the chairs already, you noticed him flash a smile in your direction. It was a bit reserved yet kind unlike Yunho’s almost smothering, intrusive one. 

Speaking of Yunho, you felt a tall presence looming behind you. Who else could it be? That rapper “Mingus Dingus” didn’t seem interested in tormenting you, and the others weren’t that tall. You could almost see Yunho’s shadow in front of you as he stood behind you. 

“We should keep our original seat arrangements, don’t you think?” 

Someone could have mistaken Yunho’s voice as gentle but it had a sprinkle of tension. 

You flinched as Yunho put his hand on your shoulder to turn you to look at him. His grip was squeezing you almost like he was trying to control himself. 

To Wooyoung and San’s disappointment, you nodded nervously to Yunho’s suggestion. Oh, how you wished you could have run off to hide from him behind San’s muscles, but you didn’t know how he would react to that if he was this irritated already. 

“She’s just too afraid to say no to you,” Wooyoung pouted, “And I don’t blame her.” 

Apparently, you weren’t the only one to notice Yunho’s scary antics. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The atmosphere felt suddenly freezing as Yunho’s usually cheerful voice dropped to a low, icy one. 

“You’re hogging her all to yourself,” San chimed in. 

Everyone in the peer support group had arrived and was watching your conversation intently. Luckily, the realization of that made Yunho back off. With one last glare sent to Wooyoung and San, he retreated back to his chair. 

You sat between San and Wooyoung as the session started. 

“Let’s start the meeting by telling everyone how we’re feeling right now.” 

At Charlotte’s directive, the first turn was given – more like forced on – to Jongho. 

“I feel neutral. Too calm, even. My thoughts, goals and wants are clear.” 

“Do you think that’s a good thing?” Charlotte inquired. 

“No.” 

Charlotte looked intrigued by Jongho’s answer but gestured the person next to him to reveal their mood. 

Yeosang cleared this throat nervously before speaking, “Nothing that different from the usual. I feel scared. The only thing different is that I feel hopeful.” 

“Could you tell us why you’re hopeful?” 

“There’s a person I’d like to get to know. But I’m afraid I’ll make a fool out of myself in front of them.” 

If you had to choose someone who to trust in the group, it would be Yeosang. He was open about his feelings, which you knew isn’t easy, but seemed like he wouldn’t be dangerous. 

You wouldn’t let him fool you into thinking he was completely harmless though. Any of these men could outpower you easily but you wouldn’t let them outsmart you. 

“Okay, next is Mingus Ding- I mean Mingi,” Charlotte corrected herself quickly but already managed to earn a few chuckles. 

You knew the stage name was silly, but still felt a pang of sympathy in your chest at how embarrassed Mingi looked, when people found the name humorous. It wasn’t an unknown feeling to you to get ridiculed, so you could relate. 

“I was feeling pretty excited first but now I’m embarrassed.” 

“What made you feel excited?” Charlotte asked curiously. 

“I’m releasing a new single tomorrow.” 

Wooyoung’s interest piqued, "How many listeners do you have on Spotify?” 

Mingi’s face flushed red, “I’m a SoundCloud rapper.” 

Yunho pat Mingi on the shoulder comfortingly and started describing his own mood next. 

“I feel happy. I had a nice day at work!” 

It was hard to figure out what to feel about his revelation. Just a few minutes ago he had been fuming, and now he sat there with his beaming smile. Had his mood really changed that quickly or was he tricking everyone as usual? 

“Oh, great! What happened at work?” 

“That’s a secret. We have a professional confidentiality agreement at work.” 

“Just like here,” Charlotte smiled. 

You could barely focus as Seonghwa started talking about his frustrating work day at a game store, because of Yunho looking at you. 

Well, at least now you knew that his happy mood had been just a skillful act. His intense stare served as a reminder that you had made the wrong choice to sit next to Wooyoung and San. 

“I feel stressed out. There’s still so much I have to do at work,” Hongjoong’s tense voice brought you back down to Earth. 

“Did you relax during weekend?” 

“No. I worked. I have to keep my company relevant in the eyes of the customers.” 

It seemed to you like Hongjoong was some kind of workaholic. You shouldn’t have felt ashamed because workaholism was a real, possibly life-ruining condition, but you couldn’t help the feelings of embarrassment. Hongjoong was so successful while you had your ordinary work and no ambitious goals other than to feel better someday. 

It was San’s turn to speak, “I’m sad and insecure. Some people at the gym looked at me weird again.” 

You couldn’t understand why someone would look at San weirdly. Sure, you were intimidated by how handsome he was but when he smiled at you today, your heart was about to melt. His eyes were so pretty. 

“What do you mean by weird?” 

“Like they thought I was scary or would hurt them,” San answered Charlotte. 

His sad tone broke your heart. He seemed shameful for making some people afraid of him, but was it really his fault since he didn’t act threateningly? 

Before the pause got awkward, you realized it was your turn. 

What could you tell? If you spoke the truth and said you were a little scared, would Yunho realize it was thanks to him? 

But it was about time to start opening up. All these people were here because of their own problems. All of them had been mentally unwell for years probably, and now focused on only getting better, not planning to murder you. Even Yunho. At least you hoped so, because you were about to reveal your feelings for the first time. 

“I’m feeling...” you looked around the room, trying to analyze everyone’s faces but your sight was getting blurry, “scared.” 

“And why is that, Y/N?” 

“Everything makes me scared. But I recognize it’s just my overthinking. There’s no real threat.” 

Convincing others was much easier than convincing yourself. You could see other people nodding in sympathy at your words. 

“I don’t think that’s just overthinking,” Jongho suddenly spoke up. 

Charlotte turned to look at Jongho with warning eyes. You were already such a mess with your paranoid thoughts that there was no need for Jongho to fuel the fire. 

“Everyone is a possible threat. There is possibly one even among us,” he continued. 

“Jongho, stop.” 

But Jongho didn’t care about Charlotte’s demand. 

“Someone who presents themselves as a leader of justice may as well be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” 

Your heartbeat accelerated by every word Jongho let fall from his lips. Did he know something you didn’t? 

Eyeing the room, you could see thoughtful, worried looks on everyone’s face. Everyone, including Yunho himself, knew who Jongho meant by “a leader of justice”. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Still, no-one dared to speak. An unwritten agreement of silence hung thick in the air, crushing you under its weight. 

“Let’s move on to the next section,” Charlotte informed after a few moments. 

“No! I haven’t had my turn yet,” Wooyoung whined, and for a good reason. 

Soon enough, Wooyoung was describing his mood and past week, paying attention to the important details like what color the car that passed by was and how long he brushed his teeth. 

The story continued for many minutes, and you were sure you’d be listening to him talk for the rest of eternity. Wooyoung’s next comment suddenly woke you up from your slumber. 

“I also saw you, Y/N. You were so beautiful on your evening walk.” 

A bit creepy, to be honest, but his intention was probably just to be sweet. You gave him a sheepish smile in response. 

“Oh! I almost forgot to mention; someone was following you.” 

Your smile dropped as you heard Wooyoung’s words. Feeling like you were being watched had always been a thing you suffered from, but that was just work of your “wild imagination” based on what your psychiatrist always told you. But despite all the medication he had prescribed you, the feeling had stayed. 

Maybe you weren’t as crazy as you had thought. 

“Oh, come on. Don’t scare Y/N like that,” Charlotte scolded Wooyoung. 

“But it’s true!” 

“Stop. We are moving on to the next section.” 

You had never seen Charlotte so tense. But she masked her frustration well and changed the topic skillfully, like she had probably had to do many times before with difficult patients. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Wooyoung’s revelation during the other section as well. Yeosang was your partner in the next section, but your focus was completely on different things while he was talking. 

“A-Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Yeosang’s sad voice finally pulled you back from your anxious thoughts. 

An instant regretful feeling filled you, and you hurried to apologize, “I’m so sorry, Yeosang. I’m... still thinking about the fact that someone had been following me.” 

Yeosang’s body seemed to relax a bit, but his hands were still wrapped around his stomach as usual. He stole a glance at your face before staring at his shoes again. 

“Okay, I understand. I would be worried too. Well, I am worried for you as well. It’s not like I don’t care about your well-being. I mean, I’m not in love with you! But people can still care although they don’t love each other, you know? But that’s not to say I would never be able to love you. I think you’re lovable. Everyone is. Well, maybe not everyone, but you definitely are!” 

Wow. You did not expect that logorrhea to escape his pretty lips. 

Your shock was clearly evident because Yeosang hid his face immediately and murmured almost inaudibly, “I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

It was official. Yeosang was the one you trusted the most. Even his rambling had been cute, but his sincere, caring apology made your heart ache in a way that wasn’t sadness. 

You were surprised by your own attitude as well. It wasn’t like you to consider trusting someone after a second meeting. Although you’d be careful, you felt more at ease with Yeosang’s presence already. 

“No worries. I think it was funny – in a good way.” 

Yeosang smiled shyly in response and even managed to meet your eyes for a split second. 

You two continued chatting away, at least tried to, although it was hard with both of you being so shy. Despite the moments of silence, you didn’t feel awkward. Anxious, yes, but that was because you genuinely hoped for your potential friendship to bloom. The instant connection between you two was as clear as day. 

Sadly, everyone did not appreciate the fact that Yeosang had gotten closer to you than anyone had so far. 

The house was starting to get void of people after the session finally ended. Your boots and jacket were on, your hand on the doorknob, ready to open the front door and freeze in the breeze of a winter night. 

“There you are. I thought Yeosang had snatched you away.” 

You turned around to see Jongho standing at the top of a staircase. His face wasn’t visible due to the low lighting in the room, but you recognized his stable voice. 

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone,” he started descending the stairs by taking one step down. 

“Why?” 

Your ever so slightly trembling voice didn’t faze Jongho. 

The stairs creaked a little as he took two steps down, “Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little, to be honest...” 

Jongho didn’t answer you. Only after he had taken three steps down, you gathered the courage to repeat your question. 

“Why did you want to get me alone?” 

“Make a guess.” 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t come up with any reasons. You just couldn’t make any sense of the mess inside your head. 

You saw Jongho taking more and more steps, getting closer. Like frozen in place, you could just watch him approach you. His blank expression left you clueless, having no idea what he could possibly want from you. 

And soon enough, Jongho stood in front of you, looking in your eyes. You had felt much more comfortable with Yeosang’s avoiding eyes than the intense yet emotionless gaze Jongho was forcing on you. 

The room was dimly lit and the lights formed shadows on his face. Earlier today, you had seen him at the bus stop with the sunlight shining on his face. It had been a beautiful sight. Now, the light was completely different. It was artificial, and although warm, it made Jongho look like a different person. 

He reached for your hand before you could flinch away, and placed something in it. 

It was the mitten you had lent him. 

“Next time, sit beside me,” he said. 

You were left alone, standing like a fool, as Jongho disappeared into the night. Millions of thoughts raced in your head, but eventually you pulled the mittens in your hands. 

Just as you slipped your hand inside the warm mitten Jongho had given back to you, something fell out of it. 

Your winter jacket rustled quietly as you reached down and picked up the object from the floor. 

It was a small piece of paper. There was a handwritten sentence on it. 

“You’re not as observant as you think you are.” 

[thezombieprostitute]

Lesson Plans - Part 1

Summary: Biker Hal Carter and Sheriff Lee Bodecker compete for your affections. Who will you choose?

Warnings: Implied abuse, Mentions of a character's death, Teaching stress. Please let me know if I missed any!

Hal never thought he'd be living a semi-domestic life. As much as he'd once had the goal of getting a cushy office job and a pretty wife, joining the Snowpiercer biker gang had been life changing. He'd loved the camaraderie, yes, but his first time on a motorcycle was invigorating. He often compared it to flying and loved every moment of it.

But then his brother, Jefferson, called and told him his wife had passed away. With Curtis's blessing, Hal left the group and went to help Jefferson and his baby girl, Grace. He started working, unofficially, at Jefferson's coffee and tea shop so Jefferson could focus on taking care of Grace, and himself, without having to worry about the bills or groceries. He would also do fixes around the place, becoming a general handyman, so that Jefferson wouldn't have to sweat so many expenses.

It's been a few years and Hal's little family has reached a kind of normalcy. Jefferson still has his bad days, but Hal makes sure to help him through. Whether it's by giving him space and taking Grace for a walk or sitting with him and letting him go on about his late wife.

Hal was never sure he'd be one for settling down, but seeing how much love Jefferson still has for his wife makes him reconsider. Especially if it resulted in a baby as sweet and good as Grace. Hal flirts with pretty much every woman he sees but, between work and family, he just doesn't have time for dating. But he doesn't begrudge his brother and niece. He'd give the world for them. But now that Grace was going to be at school all day, maybe he'd have the time to start looking for something serious.

Lee often joked that he was "married to the job". The officers on his force would agree. The man was dedicated to his work, taking the role of "public servant" seriously. Whether it was taking care of people during an emergency, making sure people felt safe in their daily life, or taking down criminals.

Ever since he was a kid, Lee wanted nothing else but to be a sheriff. He worked his entire life towards that goal. His parents had hoped he'd set his goals elsewhere and tried to push him into a career that paid better and was a lot safer, but he wasn't having it. Lee was nothing if not driven.

The problem was, all he had in his life now was his job. He was grateful the people of the county continued to trust him and his record well enough to keep electing him. His competition always had an advantage on him in terms of being "family people". They always played at being relatable because they had spouses and children while all he had was his record. But apparently that was enough for the voters.

Still, there were a lot of lonely nights and poor eating. He never had time or energy to cook. Never had time or energy to put into a relationship. But this election cycle he was running unopposed. Maybe it would be a good time to start looking for fulfillment outside of work.

It's your first day on the job in a new town. You hated leaving your job in the city, there were so many good memories. Unfortunately, there were even more bad memories. Your ex-boyfriend, Colin, and his friend, Detective Diskant, made sure of it. Colin had been such a flirt, you should've seen the red flags, but he was so charming. At first. It didn't matter which officers you tried to report him to, Diskant made sure to intercept and nothing would happen.

So you packed up and moved out to the middle of nowhere. You had no savings left after your move, having spent every penny just getting the hell out. But you'd make do on a threadbare budget. You've done it before, pretty much every day since you started college. That's probably just how it will always be. Coupons and penny pinching forever.

But at least you can still have a good life. Starting over doesn't have to be a bad thing. You'll just focus on work, your students, and try your best to forget about men.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82 ;@ronearoundblindly

[ikilledyvette]

(Part II of my seriously condensed 9-1-1 fic is here! Hope people enjoy, even though it's all a bit rushed!)

Part I

Sunday afternoon, Father’s Day. It’s always a hard day for Bobby, but usually, working helps him get through it. Today has been ... worse, and not just for him. Bobby finds Eddie on the couch, staring blankly into nothing. Bobby sits down beside him, a silent invitation to talk. Eddie doesn’t always take him up on it.

Today, Eddie says, “He hasn’t called,” and Bobby reminds him the day isn’t over yet. Eddie asks, “What if he doesn’t call?” and Bobby reminds him about tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. 

“Every day you’re both alive is another chance to make things right,” Bobby says. “Don’t give up on tomorrow just yet, Eddie.”

Buck comes by then, and Eddie takes off to give the two some space. Buck says, “So, I had dinner with my parents the other night.” Bobby asks how it went, and Buck says, “Yeah, not great. They had, uh. A lot to say about me, you know. Going through a gay phase, or something. Wanting attention. Getting too old for, I don’t know. Making stuff up, I guess.”

Bobby nods. Cautiously, he says, “Sounds to me like they still don’t know you very well.”

Buck huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Thing is, everything they said ... it’s all stuff I’ve thought too, you know? Like, I’ve always done stupid things to get people’s attention. Their attention, Tommy’s. Yours. And if ... if what I’m feeling, who I am, is ... is real ... how could I have not known before, right? And I, I do know how I feel about Tommy—I like him so much, Bobby, you don’t even know—”

Bobby knows. Everyone knows. Buck’s joy is not subtle; it shines through him, a thing to behold.

“—but sometimes I still—” Buck breaks off and sighs. “Well, maybe that’s why I reacted so badly last night. Cause sometimes, I worry they’re right.”

“They’re not,” Bobby says immediately.

“How do you know that?”

And Bobby hesitates, not sure Buck is going to want to hear this right now. But still, he says, “Because I know you, kid.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling a little. “You do. Bobby, I’m. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do. Cause that night we talked about Tommy? You didn’t ask me to, to explain myself, or suggest maybe I wasn’t thinking things through. You didn’t need me to prove anything. You just accepted it, Tommy and me. You accepted me.” Buck shakes his head. “I told this to Maddie once, but sometimes it’s easier to lash out at the person you know is always going to forgive you. My parents, that’s not them, never will be. But you, uh. You’re safe.”

Bobby swallows a little at that. He wants to be that person for Buck—but Bobby know he isn’t, can’t be. He’s the reason his family is dead; he’s the reason so many people are dead. 

“I know I hurt you,” Bobby says. “If I hadn’t left the way I did, Gerrard would never have been captain, and—”

“You think this is about Gerrard? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.” But Buck’s voice is teasing, lessening the sting. “Yeah, I mean, working under Gerrard was ... rough, for a lot reasons. But that’s not ... Hen was the one mad at you for that.”

Bobby is aware. Hen had forgiven him pretty quickly, but her attitude towards Bobby on his first day back had been ... cool, to say the least. Bobby understands why, had prepared himself for Hen’s anger, potentially Chimney’s, too. They both went through a lot, working under Gerrard the first time around. Bobby had expected them to be upset.

He’s not sure why he hadn’t expected Buck to be.

“I’m not mad about Gerrard,” Buck tells him. “I’m mad that you lied. You—you were saying goodbye all day, only we didn’t know, I didn’t know. And you just—you were just going to leave?”

“I didn’t want—”

“You didn’t want us to change your mind,” Buck says, now visibly upset. “You—you said goodbye, Bobby. I didn’t realize it then, what you were doing, but—if you were gone, if you left, and I could have done something to stop it, stop you from, from—"

And Bobby realizes suddenly that Buck isn’t just talking about Bobby quitting.

“Hey,” Bobby says. “Listen. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“For how long?” Buck asks, and it’s not mockery this time. It’s pleading. Anxious. Young. For as much Buck has been through, for as much progress he’s made over the last seven years, Bobby is struck every now and then by how young Buck still is.

“That’s not up to me,” Bobby says and points up, skyward, at the man upstairs. “And listen, Buck, I won’t deny I was ... I was in a pretty dark place a couple of months ago. I should’ve been more honest about that. But I’m here, and I mean to stay here as long as I can. Okay? I’m not going anywhere without a fight, I promise.”

Buck inhales, a deep, shuddery breath, and Bobby hugs him, and Buck hugs Bobby back. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck says again. “I think, maybe. I think I’ve just been really scared.”

Bobby hugs him a little tighter and says, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, kid.”

Footsteps on the stairs interrupt them a few minutes later. “Not to break up this long overdue moment,” Chimney says, “but Buck, you’ve got another visitor.”

Buck turns with a little dread, expecting his parents and not sure he’s ready to face them just yet—but it’s Maddie. This time, it’s Bobby and Chimney who disappear downstairs to give the Buckley siblings some space.

Maddie tells Buck that their parents are flying home. “I told them to go,” she says. “And not to come back.”

“Chimney told you,” Buck realizes, resigned and more than a little annoyed.

“Of course, he did,” Maddie says. She’s slightly exasperated but mostly worried. “Why didn’t you?” 

She thinks he’ll say something about not wanting to ruin Maddie’s relationship with their parents or Jee Yun’s relationships with her grandparents, and Buck does lead with that. But mostly, Buck’s ashamed of how he petty it was, bringing up Daniel. “I didn’t want you to think that I, I resented him,” he says. “I really don’t, Maddie. He was just a kid, and he never got the chance to grow up and, and I wish I could’ve given him that chance. I wish I could’ve met the person he would’ve become.”

“I know,” Maddie tells him, and reminds him that it’s not his fault; it was never his responsibility to save Daniel. Buck says he doesn’t blame their mom for slapping him after what he said, and Maddie, steely, says, “Well, I do. For that, and also for how they talked to you—no, it’s not okay. What if Jee grows up and realizes she likes both boys and girls someday? I don't want Mom talking to her like that. Do you?"

Buck recoils a little, and Maddie nods. “Would you be okay if Mom ever hit Jee Yun?” she asks. “Even if she said something terrible? Even if she deserved it?”

“She could never deserve it,” Buck says, knowing what Maddie’s doing but unable to keep quiet, not when his sister looks so upset, not with the ghost of Doug so heavy in the air. He hates to think of how many times Doug must have told Maddie that she was to blame for everything he did to her. “But Maddie, I don’t think Mom or Dad would ever—”

“Maybe not,” Maddie says, “but that doesn’t make them safe. They screw up, and they always feel bad about it, but they never really apologize. They never put in the work. They just ... make excuses and expect that we’ll forgive them, but I think I’m done with that now. I’m done with relationships where it’s only my responsibility to try harder, to smooth things over, to say the right thing, to always forgive. Maybe someday, if Mom and Dad actually work on themselves, but for right now ..." Maddie shakes her head. "Enough is enough.”

Buck gets that, he does. But he admits he isn’t sure he’s ready to cut off his parents yet, isn’t sure he wants too. He still wants to keep trying, and Maddie says that’s okay. What matters is, they still have each other. And she won’t try to change his mind if he doesn’t try to change hers.

Buck offers her a pinky swear. Maddie smiles and hooks her finger around his.

*

Meanwhile, downstairs, a phone rings.

“Christopher?” Eddie says, and takes a few steps, turning away from everyone. 

It is Christopher. He calls to wish his dad a happy Father’s Day, but also to say he loves him, and while he’s not quite ready to come home yet, he still wants to come home, and maybe soon.

“I miss you,” Christopher tells him. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. But you have to stop lying to me.”

“I can do that,” Eddie promises.

“And go back to therapy.”

Eddie laughs. “Already on top of that one, bud. Maybe ... we could go together, sometime, when you come home?”

“Yeah,” Christopher says. “I’d like that. I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Chris,” Eddie says. He hangs up, takes a breath before turning around, and announces, “Christopher called!" as if everyone—including Maddie and Buck, leaning over the balcony—weren’t badly pretending not to eavesdrop.

Everyone cheers and rushes Eddie. 

“What did I tell you?” Bobby asks him. “What did I tell you?” Hen asks, too, and Eddie says, “Yeah, yeah,” to both of them, with wet eyes and a shaky, hopeful smile.

“This calls for champagne!” Chimney announces. “But since we’re all on duty ... cheap coffee and leftover Ding Dong, Gerrard is Gone cake it is!”

—All in all, it’s the best Father’s Day the 118 has had in a long, long time. 

(And that's it! Apologies, fellow Tommy fans, that he didn’t make it into Part 2—but you know. If Tommy’s at the fire house, who’s flying the plane? Actually, Tommy’s too busy babysitting Jee Yun, and—to both Buck and Chimney’s horror—introducing her to all the worst Star Wars movies. She loves them.)

Tag List @lavenderleahy @v88sy

[whowilllbringtherain]

LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW

One Shot ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader

AN: This is a comfort fic! Danny is not the cheater! This fic changed a lot from when I started writing it to when it ended, so I hope you enjoy wherever my mind went while I wrote this…

Word Count: + 10.6k

Content Warnings: Heartbreak, crying, cheating, insecurity, nudity, deprecating thoughts, intense sadness, self-isolation, boner, mentions of sexual situations, lots of skin touching including breasts (but in a non-sexual way), love confessions, mentions of sex, considerate Danny.

“You alright?” Danny asked, pausing the movement of his fingers and ripping his intense attention from the melodic chords he had been working on, letting his acoustic guitar falter in his hands.

You looked up from your phone, “What? Oh, yeah, fine.”

You weren’t really fine. It was your boyfriend, Otis’s birthday, and you hadn’t been able to get a hold of him all day. You swiped through your text chain, seeing that your message at 7am wishing him a happy birthday was followed by an embarrassing amount of messages almost once an hour asking what he was doing, how he was doing, and if he was okay.

You had grown unbelievably restless, your anxiety bordering between genuine concern for his well being, and fear that he was shutting you out for some reason.

Though, this wasn’t completely unusual for Otis. He had always been distant, emotionally elusive in a way that left you second guessing your every move. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a word, shutting down for reasons you could never quite figure out. You attributed it to the way he must’ve been raised, but often, and without wanting, he would go into a mood. You had tried to understand, tried to make excuses for it. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you were overreacting.

It was terribly confusing, but you’d grown used to it, trying your hardest to take note of anything that may be a consistent trigger in his moods.

Danny, who was by far your closest friend, did not approve of his behaviour at all. In fact, he didn’t approve of Otis full stop. You had grown up together, graduated together, and were now splitting the rent of some small, shitty apartment in Nashville together, and it was hard for you to conceal the faults in your relationship when Danny seemed to always be there.

“You sure? You’ve been staring at that phone all afternoon,” he argued pointedly.

You huffed and ran a hand down the side of your face, “It’s just Otis…it’s his birthday but he hasn’t texted me back all day.” You paused, and Danny set his guitar down, its neck leaning against the arm of the couch you were both seated on. “I’m getting kinda worried,” you added.

Danny’s jaw tightened at the mention of Otis, a familiar tension brewing in his stance. You knew what he thought of your boyfriend, he had never been shy about it. As your best friend since childhood, Danny had always been protective of you, and he couldn’t stand how Otis treated you. To Danny, Otis was an undeserving ghost, always there, but never really present.

But it wasn’t as if Otis treated you poorly. No, you wouldn’t be dating him if he was. He just was a bit flaky sometimes- physically and emotionally.

Danny’s brows furrowed, “That is weird. Maybe he’s just busy with friends or something?” he suggested.

You shook your head, “No, he told me he was celebrating with them on the weekend. Told me he would see me today too,” you said anxiously, biting at the corners of your nails.

“Stop that,” Danny warned, pulling your hands away from your mouth.

It was a habit you seemed to have only picked up only recently, and Danny was always quick to stop it as soon as he saw you begin to nibble at the uneven edges of the nail.

“You’re right, ‘s a bit worrying. I would be pretty worried as well. Did he go out last night?” Danny asked.

“No.” You were beginning to feel more and more nervous, anxiety flooding through your body as you wondered what was going on.

You suddenly stood, “I think I’m gonna go over to his place. Maybe he’s just been sleeping all day.”

Danny glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw that it was 5pm. He refrained from telling you he highly doubted it, not wanting to worry you any further.

“Shit,” you cursed as you looked out the window and saw that it was absolutely pouring with rain. You hurried to your bedroom to find a raincoat.

“Let me drive you,” Danny suggested, his voice now coming from his own room as he grabbed himself a sweater. You both emerged from your rooms and met in the hallway, and before you could protest he added, “Please. I don’t feel good knowing you’re driving in this weather.”

You scoffed, “Underestimating my driving skills, Wagner?” You carried the gifts you had bought Otis, including the bouquet of flowers into the living room with you and placed them on the table next to your handbag.

“Maybe,” Danny teased and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

It took less than five minutes to gather your things. The bouquet of flowers, a few small wrapped gifts, and your handbag. Once you had hastily gotten your things in order, Danny grabbed his car keys off the table and opened the front door for you.

“Need me to hold anything?” he asked, watching in amusement as you fumbled with the flowers, presents, your bag and your phone.

You laughed, “Yes please.”

He took the flowers and a few gifts from your arms and you both descended the long, winding stairs wordlessly until you were in the shared car park.

“I’m sure it’s all fine,” Danny assured he held the door open for you to get into the car.

“Yeah me too. Just really wanna see him, you know?” You immediately regretted saying it once the words left your mouth.

You usually tried to keep the Otis conversation minimal with Danny, knowing that he didn’t really like him. Danny hummed anyway, despite his disagreement, and started the car before reversing out of the garage. He handed you your favourite Beatles CD for you to put into the stereo while he drove, and you felt overwhelmingly appreciative of his attentiveness.

You wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, and that Otis just hadn't had a chance to look at his phone yet. But with each mile closer to Otis’s apartment, the pit in your stomach grew heavier, and the knot in your chest tighter. Every time you checked your phone, there was no new message. No missed calls. Nothing.

Throughout the drive, it was clear to you that Danny was trying his hardest to keep you from overthinking. You felt like he didn’t stop talking for the majority of the ride, telling you about the latest disagreement between Josh and Jake and how he, like usual, had to save the day with his mediation skills. He managed to make you laugh too, always knowing just what you needed when you weren’t feeling your absolute best.

You had to direct Danny the way there, which was quite difficult thanks to the bucketing rain that restricted visibility of anything twenty metres in front of you. 

Eventually you made it to his apartment, and Danny pulled over on the side of the road to drop you off, seeing as there was no carpark for him to stop in.

“Alright, be safe please. Text if you need anything,” Danny recited, the words he told you each time you parted. It had been that way since you could remember.

“I will! Thanks for the lift!”

Balancing your things in your arms, you quickly jumped out of the car to not hold up and more traffic.

Danny drove off when one of the impatient cars behind him gave him a beep for taking so long. You rushed up to Otis’s apartment building front door, bullets of rain almost soaking you completely as you covered the short distance.

Your shoes splashed heavily on the street which had become one big puddle. You sighed when you finally reached the building, protected from the rain by the large overhang that wrapped around the large building.

As you made your way into the apartment and climbed the levels to his, you glanced at your phone once more to check if he had messaged you, and frowned when there was nothing. A little puffed, you finally reached his unit. Before you knocked, you peeked a glance at the crack at the bottom of the door where a light was being through. So he was home.

You bit back a shiver as you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. You always liked the tune Otis’s doorbell made. It was quite unconventional, not the normal tune they made and not a jarring ring either, but a nice melody all the same.

You hugged yourself tightly in the cold as you awaited a response, and when you didn’t get one, you rang the doorbell again. Finally, the front door swung open, and you were met with Otis, his slim figure on full display as only a pair of white and blue striped boxers hung low on his hips.

You smiled brightly, despite the fact that he had neglected speaking to you all day. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed.

He shot you a quick, tight smile, before his face turned serious, eyes scanning the scene behind you. “Thank you Baby, but uh… what are you doing here?” he asked.

You faltered, “What do you mean?”

He looked at you as if you had done something ridiculous, “Well we didn’t plan anything. I hadn’t exactly said you could come over.”

You took a step back into the hallway, “I just thought that…”

You were mortified. But you were also incredibly upset. It was his birthday, but you had still felt some kind of obligation that he at least see you on the special day. He was your boyfriend after all.

“I got worried. You weren’t responding,” you explained, feeling a deep set frown fall to your face.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and you suddenly became very aware of his positioning. He was standing in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame and letting the door hang almost closed behind him while he stepped marginally closer in each moment and effectively backed you further away from the entrance.

“Yeah well, I just got caught up in something.”

Just as you were about to ask what, a slender hand, adorning deep red acrylic nails raked across his bare abdomen.

“Baby, what’s taking you so long?” a sultry voice asked, and you could see longer dark hair peeking behind his body.

Unable to beleive your eyes, your mouth parted in silent shock, face dropping in realisation, and you peered over his shoulder to see the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in only her underwear behind him.

Blinking, you watched as his face morphed into course red embarrassment, and his eyes widened in fear.

“Oh,” you stated.

“No Baby, it’s not what it-” he started, moving towards you to take your arm.

“Stop it. Don’t,” you shook his hands off you, “Don’t touch me.”

Tears instantly welled in your eyes and the lump in your throat felt like it was going to choke you.

“Wha- why?” you managed to choke out. He looked at you sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, the woman behind him appeared at his side.

If you thought her face was gorgeous, her body was bound to make you pass out. Her breasts were full and round, and her slim, toned waist was a beautiful compliment. Her hips widened at just the right spot, and were void of dips or stretch marks, and it suddenly became glaringly obvious to you where everything had gone wrong.

She gave you a harsh look up and down, assessing your clothing and you could only assume your body. Your arms crossed over your front in insecurity, now regretting the old coat, faded jeans and casual shoes you had thrown on in your state of worry and anticipation.

You hiccuped a sob back when she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Otis, to his credit, looked wildly uncomfortable by her actions and tried to shrug her off, looking at you pleadingly.

You couldn’t see any more. You couldn’t stand there for another second longer or you were going to explode.

You wished you were more angry. You should have been furious, yelling at him and ripping your keys out to key his car. But instead, you felt a deep pit of sadness in your belly. The type of pit that drags everything down with it. The type of pit that consumes all it can from its host just to continue its relentless torment.

You needed to get the fuck out of there.

Breathing turned shakey, you turned and walked so quickly down the hallway that you thought you were going to pull a hamstring.

Otis called your name from behind you, and you thanked the Gods that he was too naked to follow you. You descended the stairs in a daze, hot tears running down your cheeks, but you were too focused on getting out that you knew you needed to hold them back.

Once you made it to the building's exit, you realised that you were still cradling the birthday presents you had bought him. In an act of anger, you stormed out of the complex and threw them in a heap onto the grass beside the door, letting all the money you had wasted on him get destroyed under the unforgiving downpour of rain.

Then you realised you were also in the rain. And you were getting soaked. You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up Danny’s contact to call him.

Restricted sobs began to shake your body, and you were having an incredibly hard time maintaining your composure, if you could even call it that anymore.

The phone only rang twice before Danny’s voice spoke through the speakers.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered casually. You could hear his car keys hitting the little key bowl you had by the front door, indicating he had quite literally just gotten home, making you feel even worse about asking him to come and pick you up.

He called your name in question when you didn’t respond.

“Did you- did you just get home?” you asked, trying feebly to conceal the emotion in your voice, but the sobs and sharp inhales did close to nothing in helping.

“Fuck, are you okay? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, and you could hear the keys jingle again, accompanied by the front door slamming shut.

“I’m,” you tried to say through broken sobs, “I’m okay. I just need- can you come and pick me up? Ple- please?”

“I’m already on my way.” True to his word, you could hear the engine vibrating in the background of the call. “Please tell me what happened. Are you safe?” he asked frantically.

You nodded, before realising that he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m- I’m okay. Just cold,” you began scanning the area, looking for a spot you could stand that was concealed from the rain.

There was no way you were going back inside the complex building, and you quickly realised that your best bet was a tree nearby. You hastily made your way over, sneakers getting ruined in the dirt, each step accompanied by a squelch. The rain wasn’t as relentless under the cover in the tree, but thick drops still fell and coated your skin, hair and clothes. You were shivering violently now, wondering why on earth you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

"Where are you?" Danny's voice was soft but laced with concern.

"Same place you dropped me off," you muttered, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. It wasn't hard to guess that Danny probably knew something had gone wrong with Otis. But you could bet he'd never imagine the full extent of it.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could sense Danny was biting his tongue, holding back from asking the questions swirling in his mind. He knew better than to press you when you were like this, though. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good. That much was obvious.

"Okay, honey, I’m nearly there. Can you try taking some deep breaths while you wait for me, please?" His voice was steady, trying to ground you through the phone. It was only then that you became aware of the sound of your own ragged, gasping sobs.

"Ye-yes... okay." You forced yourself to breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, but each inhale felt heavy, the weight of your chest pressing down harder with every beat of your racing heart. You tried to follow Danny's request, but every time your pulse began to slow, your mind betrayed you. You couldn't stop the image from flashing in your head, those sharp red acrylic nails raking across his chest.

Your stomach churned, nausea rising as you cursed your vivid imagination. What would those hands look like wrapped around his neck, or worse, holding his hand? What would those nails look like tracing against his skin, trailing down his back in the heat of the moment as she whispered his name in his ear? The thought made your blood run cold, and tears welled up in your eyes once again.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to vanish. But they clung to you, persistent and cruel, reminding you of everything you were afraid to face. It wasn’t just the physical imagery, either. It was the emotional betrayal of the way his eyes might soften when he looked at her, the way he might laugh at her jokes. She probably made him feel something you couldn’t. And he had probably been slipping away for quite some time.

A broken sob escaped your lips, and you clenched your fists at your sides, wishing you could stop thinking about it, wishing you could stop hurting. You knew Danny was close, but the minutes felt like hours. You hated how powerless you felt, sitting there, cold and waiting, suffocated by your own thoughts.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay it’ll be okay. I’m nearly there, just hang on a little longer for me, okay?” Danny repeated, hearing your breathing pick up again.

You crouched on the dirt to hug some warmth into you, humming in response to his question. “Danny, can you- can you put the heat on in the car… please. I’m really cold,” you asked and you immediately heard him shuffle with the knobs on the dashboard.

“Are you- are you in the rain?” he asked with urgency.

“I was… I’m standing under a tree now.”

He sighed, “Okay I’m rounding the corner now, can you see me?” he asked and you looked up at the road. True to his word, you could see his black car nearing you as it sped down the road.

“Yes.” You got up and quickly walked to the edge of the street. The rain soaked you again, and you abandoned even attempting to cover your head from its assault.

He pulled up to you at record breaking speed, and breaked harshly beside you on the road. You swung the door open and practically fell into the passenger seat, being immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car.

You slammed the door shut, and muttered a small ‘sorry’ through your shudders as you did up your seat belt.

Being a busy street, Danny had to take off as soon as you were buckled up, and you looked down at the water dripping off your shoes into the car.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he commented, as you tried to take off your top jacket to avoid completely soaking his seats. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, trying to keep your back from the seat to not soak the interior of his car. He had already given you a lift to and from Otis’s house, and the least you could do was not ruin his car in the process. You were trying your hardest to withhold the sobs, but hot tears mixed with the wetness of your face as the lump in your throat began to burn.

“Honey…” Danny comforted when he saw your emotional state. He found the closest quiet street and pulled over on the side of the road. 

As soon as the handbrake was on and the car was in neutral, Danny turned to you, clipping off his seatbelt to reach you better. He reached to unclip your seatbelt too, and without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms. 

Though it had been steadily trickling since you left Otis’s house, the dam completely broke when you felt the familiar and comforting embrace of Danny. He rubbed soothing strokes up and down your soaked back with a soft flat palm, his hand shuddering against each shaky breath you took. 

“Are you hurt? I need to know you’re okay, physically,” he asked, still keeping you tight in his arms. 

“I’m not hurt. I’m okay,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt behind his back. 

“Shhh,” he cooed as your sobs continued, “What’s going on? What happened?”

You pulled away from him, slipping back into your seat and wiping furiously at your red and wet eyes. “There was,” you shuddered, “There was a woman,” you explained, eyes now trained on the window wipers that feebly tried to push away the waves of water that fell from the sky, “They were both naked.”

“What?” The volume of his voice was jarring in the otherwise silence of the car. You dared not speak, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Danny had warned you that Otis wasn’t a good person, but you had ignored him, and you were now putting the weighted burden of your mistake on his shoulders. 

Danny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and you kept your eyes before you, silent tears now running down your cheeks. 

“She’s really pretty,” you added, and Danny eyed you carefully. He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to see through your skin and into your brain to read every thought that was running through your mind. When he couldn't find anything other than self-loathing and depreciation, he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I- fuck I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” 

You shook in the cold as you stared out the window, unspeaking. When he realised you weren’t going to respond, he turned in his seat again and popped the car back into gear before he continued the drive home. He was watching your body shake violently from the cold and knew that as much as he wanted to hold you until you were better, you needed to get out of your wet clothes and into something warm and dry.

“Don't do that,” Danny said, pulling your thumb away from your mouth as you attacked the skin around it. 

“‘M sorry,” you muttered with a sniffle, pulling your hands to your lap and fiddling with your fingers instead. 

“Don’t apologise.”

You were quiet for the rest of the ride. You replayed the moment over and over in your mind, looking back on how he had blatantly told you that he didn't want you there, that you weren’t invited. All because there was another woman. Had she always been there? Was she just a one night stand or had he been cheating on you for longer?

Danny bit his cheek each time he heard you sniffle, every small sound cutting through him like a knife. He glanced over at you, watching as you hastily wiped your eyes, your fingers trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. The sight of you in pain made his chest ache, and every time your hand darted up to your face, he wished he could reach out, pull you close, and wipe your tears away for you. But he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to smother you when you were clearly teetering on the edge.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the darkening streets, the quiet hum of the car engine doing nothing to soothe the thick tension in the air. You sat next to him, staring out the window, barely moving, but he could see the steady stream of tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. They glistened in the streetlights as you passed them, and he wanted to say something, anything, but he knew no words could fix what you were feeling.

The ride home felt agonisingly long, each second dragging on as Danny tried to focus on the road and not the heart-wrenching sight of you unravelling beside him. He kept biting his cheek, hard enough to taste blood now, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you every few seconds, praying you’d somehow find a little bit of peace before they made it home.

When Danny finally rolled into the parking spot, the familiarity of your apartment complex looming ahead causerd the tears that had slowed for a brief moment on the drive started to pour again, the sight of home making everything worse. The thought of being so close to your bed, to the space where you could collapse and let yourself fully break was overwhelming.

Your breath hitched, and you hugged your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken over your body. The cold had seeped into your bones, making you shake uncontrollably, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the freezing rain that had soaked through your clothes or the sadness that seemed to settle deep in your chest.

Danny killed the engine and turned to you, eyes soft and full of worry. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” His voice was gentle, but the concern was clear. He didn’t wait for you to respond, opening his door quickly and jogging around to your side, pulling open the passenger door.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” he murmured, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You hesitated for just a second, but the exhaustion in your body won out, and you took his hand, letting him guide you. As you stepped out, your legs wobbled beneath you, and without a second thought, Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

You leaned against him, your sobs becoming louder now that you were out of the confined space of the car. His warmth was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of emotion that had hit you. As he helped you up the steps to the apartment, you clung to his sweater, your cold fingers digging into the fabric as if you could hold onto him and stop yourself from spiralling.

Each step felt heavy, the weight of your sadness pressing down on you like a physical force, and you stumbled a little as you climbed. Danny tightened his grip on you, steadying you with every step, whispering quiet reassurances even though you weren’t sure you could hear them over the sound of your own sobbing.

You weren’t crying for any reason now, yet it felt like your emotional capacity was a heavy ball that had been pushed off a hill. Once it started rolling, you couldn't stop. 

Once inside, the warmth of the apartment hit you, but it did nothing to thaw the ice in your bones. You barely registered Danny closing the door behind you, his arm still around your shoulders as he led you deeper into the space. Despite his support, your mind had already begun its familiar descent into destructive thoughts. If Otis didn’t want you, then who would? The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, and the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

Without a word, you pulled away from Danny, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately but ignoring it as you left him standing in the middle of the living room alone. You made a beeline for your bedroom, your body moving on autopilot. The door clicked shut behind you, and even though there wasn’t a lock, you knew Danny wouldn’t come in. He respected your space, your boundaries, but that knowledge only made the ache in your chest deepen. The loneliness pressed in harder, suffocating.

Inside the sanctuary of your room, you didn’t care that you were drenched to the bone, your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably. The cold had long since numbed your skin, and now it was creeping into your muscles, making your limbs ache with a dull, persistent throb. You shivered violently, your teeth chattering so hard they ached, but it was a distant sensation compared to the emotional storm raging inside you.

You toed off your soaked shoes, not even bothering to untie them properly. Normally, the thought of tracking dirt or water onto your bed would have horrified you as your bed was your sacred space, always spotless, always prepared for sleep in clean pyjamas after a long shower. But tonight, none of that mattered. Your mind was too far gone, too consumed by the thoughts that swirled around relentlessly.

You crawled onto the bed without a second thought, the damp sheets immediately sticking to your wet clothes. The fabric clung to your skin, cold and uncomfortable, but it didn’t register. All you could think about was curling into the tightest ball possible, as if making yourself small enough would somehow make the pain disappear.

The sobs wracked your body violently, each one more painful than the last. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sound, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears from soaking the fabric. Your whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the anguish that had taken over.

And still, despite the physical discomfort, despite the relentless sobbing, your mind couldn’t stop fixating on Otis. You kept replaying every word he’d said, every look, every action that made you feel like you weren’t enough. You kept thinking about how he didn’t want you, how he didn’t choose you. That gut wrenching feeling of rejection echoed through you like a broken record, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, it lingered.

But it wasn't the loss of Otis that hurt you so much as the feeling of being left behind for someone better. Your self esteem had plummeted, all feelings of security and trust torn apart with no remorse. 

Minutes passed, maybe longer, until you were dimly aware of the soft knock on your door, Danny’s voice coming through gently.

"Hey… I'm just gonna leave some dry clothes outside the door, okay?" he said, his voice calm but clearly worried. You didn’t respond, too lost in the flood of emotions, but you heard him shuffle around outside before retreating.

A little while later, Danny returned, seeing the pile of clothes left outside untouched. He called your name gently with a brush of his knuckles against the wood, “Can I come in?” he asked cautiously. 

“No,” you called out, muffled in the pillows your face was buried in. 

He hesitated in the silence. “I don’t- I think you need to get out of your wet clothes,” he commented, voice still quiet behind the door. “You might get sick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I’ll do what I want,” you snapped. 

You had no idea where that outburst had come from. You immediately felt guilty as you imagined how Danny would have recoiled at your words and tone of voice. It was glaringly obvious to both you and Danny that you were only acting hostile as a way to protect yourself. Protect the fragile feeling of trust you had so carefully maintained throughout your life.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that… you can come in,” you said so quietly, that Danny may not have even heard you. 

Though with heavy caution, Danny reached down to twist the handle. He knew you didn't mean what you were saying. You were hurt, and had been betrayed in arguably the worst way someone could be. He knew you just needed someone to be in your corner. 

You didn't dare look behind you at Danny as he entered your room, and instead kept your head buried in your pillows. 

“Hey,” he whispered, and you felt the edge of your bed dip as he sat down. He reached out hesitantly, and put his warm palm on your bare arm. He flinched the feeling of your skin, chilled from your still soaked clothes. “Shit, you’re freezing,” he commented. 

With your back still turned, you stared blankly into the plush pillows in front of you, your eyes fixated on the growing wet stain spreading across the fabric. You couldn’t distinguish if it was from your soaked hair or the relentless flow of tears that you had cried. Your pillowcase, usually soft and comforting, now felt cold and uninviting, just another reminder of the misery that clung to you like the dampness in your clothes.

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, each one laboured as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to rise again. The wet patch in front of you seemed to expand with every tear, but you couldn’t muster the energy to wipe your face or even shift positions. 

Everything felt heavy. Your body, your heart, your thoughts. It was as though the weight of everything Otis had said, everything you felt, was sinking into that single spot on the pillow, and no matter how long you stared, it wouldn’t disappear.

“Hey,” he carefully pulled you away from your thoughts. Sniffling, you rolled over to face him, and his heart ached at the sight of you. Eyes and lips swollen, red and raw from your crying, and incessant rubbing. 

“Will you please change into something warmer?” he asked, eyes soft and genuine as he stared at you, his thumb stroking against the cold skin of your arm, “I can help you if you need,” he added. You sighed, hard and long before pushing yourself up from your bed into a sitting position. 

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands as you groaned, “This is such a mess.”

You looked back up again, assessing the damage you had done to your bed, which carried the consequences of you collapsing in it while still wet. Danny got up quickly, taking the clothes he had left for you outside of your bedroom door and bringing them to you at the bed. 

“I think a warm shower would do you good,” he suggested, “It’ll help you warm up quicker.” The thought of the warm water pouring over your tired and cold muscles seemed like heaven, but now that he was here, you didn't want Danny to leave. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, moving to get up from your bed. Danny rushed out of your bedroom and searched through your shared hallway cupboard for the softest towel he could find. 

He watched as you slowly emerged from your bedroom, posture slumped and insecure, arms wrapped securely around your body. Your jeans and top clung to your body tightly from the slick, and your hair left a wet residue on your neck. 

“I can put the towel in the dryer for you while you shower. That way when you get out it’ll be nice and warm,” he suggested. His attention to detail made you smile. 

Though his offer was kind, you knew what you wanted more than a warm towel. The thought that came into your mind was absurd, and could very possibly make Danny uncomfortable by crossing the boundaries of your friendship that you had both treaded in all those years. But you didn’t want- you couldn’t be left alone, or you feared you would curl up onto the cold tile floors and cry until you died. 

“What's up?” he asked, hand raising to the side of your face to thumb away the remaining tears left on your cheeks. You glanced up at him shyly, trying to reign the confidence to ask him the question.

He frowned at the look of conflict on your face as you debated with yourself, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that,” he offered with a kind smile. That same smile that had dried your tears too many times over the years, “‘S only me.”

You took a deep breath, “I just… I don’t know how to say this. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want- I’m scared of being left alone again,” you admitted though still skirting around the truth of your sudden discomfort. 

“I won't ever leave you alone, you know that. I’m always here for you,” he comforted, stroking your wet hair away from your face in a way that felt so intimate, so domestic, that you nearly began to cry again. 

“Will- um, will you come with me?” you added in a mumble, cheeks heating at your question. 

He cocked his head in confusion, “Come with you where?” 

You swallowed thickly in embarrassment, physically unable to say the words. You were ready to dismiss it, and tell him it didn't matter when realisation struck his face. 

“You mean… come with you to shower?” he asked, surprise reigning his features at your admittance. 

You were a fool. You had just ruined the relationship you had with your boyfriend, and you were already on track to do the same with your best friend.

“I- I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I suggested that, seriously, just forget it, I-”

“No, no, stop. I… I’m happy to… if uh, if that’s what you need,” Danny answered, his heart thumping in his chest at your suggestion. This was a boundary that neither of you had ever crossed. Sure you had seen each other close to nakedness before, but only by pure accident or in the form of skimpy swimwear. 

Both of you knew that doing this was different. Even suggesting it had changed something between the two of you, and it had brought to life the truth that you had both been hiding beneath platonic smiles for your whole lives.

You couldn't look at him, and instead looked at the towel he held tightly in his hands, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. 

Jaw tight and eyes cautious, he nodded silently. “You go and get started, and I’ll uh, join you in a minute, okay?” he suggested and you tucked a tuft of hair behind your ear. 

“Okay,” you whispered. As you turned to walk away, nerves swelling in your stomach at your decision, Danny cleared his throat again. 

"Are you... do you want me to keep my... um, boxers on?" Danny’s voice was as gentle as ever, like slow dripping honey that coated each word with the tenderness you had come to depend on. It was just Danny, always so considerate, always thinking of how to make you feel comfortable, especially in moments as vulnerable as this.

The question, though spoken with the utmost care, still startled you. Your heart skipped, and you felt a small flutter of uncertainty rise in your chest. You feared that whatever answer you gave might lead to discomfort, but there was a deep, aching need inside you to be close to him. Closer than you had ever been before. Something unspoken tugged at you, a silent yearning to connect with him in a way that transcended the physical.

"If you want. But I don't mind if you don't," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, as if afraid the wrong words might break the fragile atmosphere.

Before he could respond, you turned and made your way down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floor the only sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You gently swung the bathroom door shut, leaving it ajar just enough to let him know that he was welcome. You twisted the shower tap, letting the heavy stream of hot water fill the shower, the sound of it pounding against the tile, a soothing background hum that drowned out the noise in your mind.

Your clothes clung stubbornly to your body as you peeled them off, each article of fabric a reminder of the evening's cold and the emotions that had seeped into your bones. The chill in the air bit at your exposed skin, and a violent shiver racked your body, leaving you trembling as you stood naked in the dim bathroom. You barely spared a glance in the mirror, catching only a fleeting, distorted reflection of yourself, a body that tonight, felt uglier than it ever had. The blotchy redness from your sobs clashed with the paleness of your cold skin, and you looked away quickly, unable to face the image.

Stepping into the shower, you sighed deeply as the hot water cascaded over your head, the sensation washing away the lingering chill. It was a simple pleasure, the heat sinking into your scalp, down your neck, and through your entire body. You tipped your head back, allowing the water to flow over your face, burning just enough to be distracting, before it slid down your shoulders and over the curve of your breasts. For a brief, blissful moment, you forgot about Otis, the heartbreak, the insecurity, everything.

Danny's soft footsteps padding into the bathroom snapped you back to reality, and your heart gave a nervous flutter as you saw his silhouette through the thin shower curtain. You turned, yet could still feel his presence as he shuffled with his things by the countertop, your senses heightened by the silence in the room. As he approached, the shower curtain shifted slightly, letting in a sliver of cool air that made you shiver again, but this time not entirely from the cold.

Wordlessly, you stepped forward, making room for him under the stream of water, and you heard his deep, contented exhale as the warmth enveloped him. You felt a shy smile tug at your lips, though you didn’t dare turn around. The thought of exposing yourself fully to him was daunting, even though you had never felt safer with anyone else.

Reaching up, you grabbed the bottle of vanilla shampoo, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. But before you could open the bottle, you felt Danny’s warmth behind you, not close enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his steady, comforting force and hot, heavy breath by your ear. He reached over your shoulder, his hand brushing yours as he gently took the bottle from you. The touch was brief, but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.

"Let me," he offered, his breath tickling the skin beside your ear. The shampoo bottle clicked open, the scent of vanilla filling the air as Danny lathered up the shampoo by rubbing it between his large hands.

You stood still, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands moved to your head, slowly threading into your locks and pressing to your scalp. His fingers were strong but somehow gentle as ever, working the shampoo into your scalp in slow, deliberate motions, in a way that made your knees weak. You let out a whispered groan, the sound escaping before you could stop it as your body relaxed under his touch.

This was no longer just about getting clean; this was something else entirely. The both of you, stood there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and yet there was no awkwardness and no sense of pressure or expectation. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t entirely platonic either. It was something deeper, something built on years of quiet affection, of love that had been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as he continued to wash your hair. His fingers traced soothing patterns against your scalp, moving with such care that you felt your chest ache with emotion. This wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was love. Pure, unspoken, and unconditional.

He soon rinsed his hands under the water, and touched your shoulder gently as he pulled you back under the stream. He aided with washing the shampoo out of your hair with his hands, running through your scalp and squeezing at your hair as the soapy suds travelled down your hair and down to his feet. 

You had completely forgotten about Otis, you realised, as Danny reached up to grab the bottle of conditioner, doing the same as before but only raking the product through the ends of your hair. 

Your breathing was heavy, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry again, but not out of sadness this time. You turned around to face him, feeling no insecurity over the exposure of your bare body when his burning gaze remained on your face. 

“Danny…” you started, frowning at the overwhelming feeling of your new realisation. Your face told him everything he needed to know, eyebrows pinched in desperation, and tears brimming at your eyes. He had always felt a way for you that he couldn’t act upon, and only now did he see that you could finally feel it too. 

He reached up and cupped your cheek, “I know, sweet girl.” He nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek lovingly, and you leaned into his touch. When he let go, you dropped your head, hanging it low between your bodies, your eyes closed in exhaustion. 

Danny stepped forward slowly, his feet splashing against the pool of water at your feet, and he engulfed you in the embrace of his long arms. Your head fell into the spot between his arm and chest, and that same arm came up to cradle your head. You could feel his bare arm on your back, your breasts pressed against his chest and you flushed at the proximity. 

You desperately tried to hold him too, arms wrapped around his abdomen and folded up to hook your hands over his shoulders. You didn't notice the tears that flowed from your eyes, as they became one with the water that flowed between you both. 

“Danny,” you whispered. He nuzzled into your hair, a comforting gesture that made your heart race. 

“Hmm?” he replied softly, encouraging you to continue. The moment hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken feelings. 

The feeling was so overwhelming, that you realised you could no longer pretend to be just friends, as the desire to love him loudly completely consumed you. 

Finally, you spoke, your confession bursting forth like a long held secret, “I think I love you.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, a rush of emotion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. 

You felt his stomach tighten at your words, and he pulled back slightly to gaze down at you. You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes to see them pleading in wonder. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had admired the beauty of your soul in silence, waited in suppressed agony, fearing that revealing his feelings would push you away. Your company was always enough for him to keep his feelings hidden, as just being near you to hear your laughter, your mind and your soul, had been more than enough. 

But now, you were uttering the words he had dreamt of telling you for what felt like his whole life. 

“Always,” he whispered, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. He tucked your wet hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I always have.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his for confirmation. “What?” you managed to ask, your voice breaking. Instead of answering, Danny leaned down, closing the distance between you, and held his face close to yours. He lingered for a moment, as if giving you time to pull away, before he brought his lips to yours in a gentle caress.

His lips were soft and slow against yours, hesitant and testing at the new sensation. Neither of you could believe what was happening, and you marvelled at the intimacy of the moment, the tenderness. Never would you have thought this would be how you ended up, and now that it was happening, there was no going back. 

Danny's hands rested hesitantly beside you, ghosting your skin as he resisted the urge to touch you, as he was painfully aware of your state of undress and didn't want to cross any boundaries. You took them into your own hands, and pulled them to rest on the sides of your waist. He gripped the skin softly at the sensation. 

You mouths explored each other, and you reached your hands up to tangle in his hair as you revelled in the new feeling. It felt as if you had searched every corner of Danny, as your years of friendship had taught you things about him even his family didn't know, yet this was unexplored territory. 

Danny pulled away with a deep inhale, and he took in the sight of your flushed face, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. A small smile crept onto his face at his realisation of what had just happened. 

“You’re so beautiful, d’ you know that?” he whispered, hand gliding up and down the curve of your waist. You looked down shyly, at both the complement and your own understanding of what had just happened.

“You are too,” you mumbled quietly, a blush tinting your cheeks. You could no longer look at Danny without your heart exploding, and when he smiled a bit wider at your words, you turned back around, reaching for the body wash and fiddling with the cap. 

Danny was more hesitant to offer helping you clean your body than he was your hair, ever considerate of your boundaries. You had both taken huge steps in mere minutes, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel rushed. 

You of course knew this, and decided that your bold streak hadn’t ended yet. “Would you… help me with this one too?” you asked quietly, turning to look up at Danny through your lashes.

“Anything,” he answered with a nod, taking the bottle from your hands gently and pouring the soapy substance over his hands. You could tell he was still hesitant, the act of touching you was clearly daunting for him, and you tried your best to show him you were okay. You nodded at him to go ahead, and he gingerly reached his hands to your shoulders, massaging the produce over them, pulling your arms out horizontally so that he could lather it across them too. 

Avoiding the obvious, his hands dragged back up your arms and to your back. You turned for him, letting his strong fingers knead into your muscles, making you hum in approval, head dropping forward at the feeling. He tucked your hair over your right shoulder to move it out of his way. His hands travelled over the expanse of your back, fingers dipping into your dimples of venus, but not treading any further before he pulled them back up, running long stripes either side of your spine.

His hands travelled around your waist then, and you turned again for him as the warmth of his hands spread over your stomach, sides and ribs, hesitating just below your breasts. 

Your stomach flipped as you became aware now that his gaze was not holding its respectful attachment to your face, and was now all over your chest, trying to touch you anywhere but there. 

You bit your cheek, and slowly reached up to take his hand that was settled on your ribs into yours. His eyes flicked to yours as you dragged his hand up your body and rested it on your breast. 

“It’s okay,” you told him. To say that these moments were not entirely sexual anymore would be untrue. And you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t caught glimpses of his situation down below, despite your efforts to keep your gaze above his waist.

Feeling like he would pass out any moment, Danny tenderly ran his hands over your breasts, rounding at the swell and dipping in the valley as he lathered them in the soap. He wasn't hasty to move on, but he didn’t linger for too long, letting you know that he did not expect anything sexual from you. As he washed your upper half, you scrubbed at your bottom, running the soap in your hands over your legs and behind, to speed up the process. 

Danny pulled you back under the stream, and rejected your offer to wash him the same. 

“You’re exhausted, and I’m worried if you spend another minute in the steam you’ll pass out,” he said with a teasing smile, half joking. You frowned at his words. 

“I’m not exhausted, I can do it.”

“Honey…” he started, lifting your arm and showcasing your hands which were trembling without support.

You huffed at his consideration. “Okay, fine… if you’re sure.”

He smiled at you, his hand on your hip squeezing gently, “I am.” He dipped down and gave you a quick peck on the lips, the act startling you, as you had almost forgotten the events that just occurred between the two of you. As if you weren't just guiding his hand to your breasts. As if he weren’t standing before you in those moments, with an obviously painful erection.

You gave him one last smile before you pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. The cold slapped you in the face and you were quick to shut the curtain behind you to keep Danny warm. Picking up your towel and wrapping it around your body was a beautiful reprieve from the biting cold, and when you looked out of the fogged glass of the bathroom window, you could tell that the rain outside was just as relentless as it was before. 

You listened to foamy soap hit the floor as Danny washed through his own hair while you collected your hairbrush and other essentials, before you silently slipped out of the bathroom door, not bothering to close it all the way behind you. 

Your mood now soaring at heights unimaginable, you padded to your bedroom, a small smile on your face as you thought back on the intimacy of the moments you had just shared. When you stepped into your bedroom though, you were reminded of the mess that was your life. 

Your bed was soaked, sheets and pillows bore big wet patches and you were sure the witness had soaked onto your mattress too. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, before deciding what to do. You shuffled through your pyjama drawers and picked out some long plaid pants along with a white singlet and a hoodie. You changed quickly, not wanting the warmth of your body to succumb to the cold again, and once you were changed, you walked back out of your room and into the living room, where you set up camp on the couch. 

Meanwhile, Danny was running his hands through his wet locks, the water cascading down his face as he replayed those moments over and over again in his mind. He had waited for you for so long. Loved you in silence for so long. And it was all worth it. 

Once he left the shower he wrapped the last towel around his waist, squeezing the wetness out of his hair and leaving it otherwise to air dry. 

As he left the bathroom, he could hear you humming softly in the living room, and he passed his room to see you again. Danny watched in admiration at you, dressed comfortably while you typed and scrolled on your phone, cross legged on the couch, Your wet hair hung down your back, but your sweater protected you from the cold this time. 

He frowned when he saw the couch, set up in a way he could only assume was your attempt to sleep on it. 

The sound of his arrival got your attention, “Hey, I’m ordering Thai delivery,” you said, eyes still trained on your phone as you typed in your card details.

Danny smiled warmly at you, “Great, thanks…um, what’s all this?” he asked, hands gesturing to the makeshift bed you had set up on the couch. Although just seeing him completely naked, and having that naked body pressed against your own, you stifled at the sight of him with only a towel around his waist.

You cleared your throat and averted your gaze, “Oh, my bed is really wet from… you know, lying on it earlier.”

He shook his head, “No, you aren’t sleeping on the couch. I have a double, you can sleep with me.” He immediately blushed at the alternate innuendo his words held, “Not like sleep together, just you know, go to sleep,” he tripped over his words anxiously, making you force back a smile. 

“Are you sure? I’m fine to-” 

“Yes I’m sure. One hundred percent,” he assured quickly before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, we did just shower together.”

Now it was your turn to blush, and you looked back to your phone to hide your face, agreeing quietly. 

Danny retreated to his room to get into his pyjamas, and quickly tidied the space up, feeling self conscious at the state his room was in, shoving his clothes into his drawers haphazardly, and others he took to the laundry basket. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the living room. 

He sat down beside you, his thigh brushing yours and you suddenly became insecure of where you both stood. Usually, it would be normal for you both to be sitting close together, laughing and chatting through movies, but now, things were different. You didn't want to come across as pushy and rushed, but similarly didn't want to do the opposite, act cold or distance after the moments you had shared. 

If Danny was having the same fears, he didn’t let it show, as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer to him while he leaned over to reach for the TV remote with a grunt. 

“Watcha wanna watch?” 

You and Danny settled on the first movie you could, only pausing to get your takeout delivery from the door, before you returned to your position, which seemed to be steadily moving closer to Danny with each reposition or shuffle. 

By the time the film was over and your bellies were full, you were exhausted. You had been emotionally wrecked throughout the day, ranging from betrayal and heartbreak, to renewal and love. 

Danny steadied you by your elbow as you stood, helping you gather your things to take to his room. You were too sleepy to feel nervous. 

“Which side do you sleep on?” you asked as you stood by the doorway. 

Danny scratched the back of his head, “Usually the right, but I don't mind. I move around a lot when I sleep anyway.” Truth be told, Danny rathered that you slept on his side, as he knew that his pillow would smell like you by morning.

It apparently didn't matter though, as when you slipped under the covers of the left side of the bed beside him, his senses were overwhelmed with you. Your smell, your energy and your heat. It also wasn’t long before the two of you closed the distance between you, arms and legs tangled in your attempts to be impossibly closer to one another, your fronts pressed together just like the moments you shared in the shower. 

It all felt so normal. You attributed it to being friends for your whole lives, giving you the ability to close emotional distance without second thought, but it was still startling nonetheless. 

“Thanks again for letting me sleep here, it’s definitely more comfortable than the couch,” you whispered, and he reached behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.

Now cloaked in darkness, you relied only on your hearing to navigate Danny beside you. The rain was still pouring outside the window, and in a way, it felt fitting as a reminder of your day. While a disastrous storm brewed outside, you were safe and warm with Danny at home. 

“Maybe… maybe we could make it a regular thing?” Danny asked nervously. “You know, since you love me and all that,” he teased, trying to ease the tension of his suggestion. You groaned in embarrassment and buried your head into his chest, hearing his chuckles vibrate in his chest. 

“I would like that very much, thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You have no idea how happy I am to have you with me like this right now.”

You sighed deeply, and decided it was your turn to tease. “And just how long have you felt this way for me, hm?” 

Danny chuckled dryly but swallowed, hesitating to tell you in case it made things weird. He didn’t want you to feel that his friendship had ever been false, or as a ruse to gain your attention in that way. 

His nose brushed against your forehead, “I’ve known for sure since eighth grade.” His statement was heavy, and it hung in the air wearily as he waited for you to respond. 

You pulled your head away from him, “Eighth grade?! Danny… what- why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighed, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” 

You understood, but wished he had told you sooner, as though you hadn’t ever realised it was quite love, you knew that you never would have turned away the idea of being with Danny like that. 

“We wasted so much time,” you sighed. 

“What? You mean you felt the same?” he asked, shock lacing his words as his hand tightened around your frame. 

You nodded, “You’ve always treated me better than any boy I ever went out with. I just didn't think that- I didn't think that this was a possibility. I thought you were too good for that. Too-”

“Too good for what?” 

“You know, like with your band and stuff. I don't know, I guess I thought you had more important people to see than me. I didn’t ever think you could actually see me like that,” you tried to explain. 

Danny groaned, “Oh God. I’m never gonna live this down.”

Your brow creased in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Sammy knew I liked you before I even did, used to tease me about it all the time. The three of them have watched me act like an idiot around you for years. I can't believe you thought that I was ‘too cool’ for you.” He chuckled, though regret laced the dry laugh. 

You felt mild embarrassment at the thought that the boys, who you’d become close with the years that you knew Danny, were keeping the secret from you that would ultimately change your life indefinitely. 

He whispered your name, pulling you from your thoughts, “I have always loved you. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, clutching his shirt in your hands as you shuffled incredibly closer to him. He smelt like Danny, the comfort you had grown to turn to after many years of safekeeping your heart. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” You felt him kiss the top of your head, followed by the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply. 

“Goodnight Danny.”

As you welcomed the blankets of exhaustion over your spent body, Danny began to hum a familiar tune, his voice sounding distant in your haze of sleep. Soon, the song became unmistakably recognisable. 

Because, by The Beatles. Your favourite song.

[yan-lorkai]

Since I checked that suggestive fic are fine could you write one for Jamil where reader has been pining for him for a long time but he is hesitant since he has Kalim to take care off and can't slack off or smth

Ignore if you want :) and sorry if I overlooked a rule!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I've made you wait quite a bit, darling, but I finally finished writing this ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾. Though I let it end in a happy ending, originally it was going to end in a more bittersweet way. Either way, I hope you like it!

You had always known there was something about Jamil that captivated you, pulling you in with each passing day. He was more than just the stoic and responsible figure that stood in Kalim’s shadow. He was hardworking, kind and always reliable, traits that only made your heart ache with longing. For so long, you kept your feelings hidden, knowing he carried more responsibility than anyone should, but tonight, something in you snapped.

You watched Jamil move through the courtyard, his shoulders slightly hunched from the weight of the day. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to tell him how you felt, even if you knew there was a risk he might push you away. He needed to know that there was he could lean on.

"Jamil," you called out softly, your voice barely carrying across the courtyard. His steps slowed, and he turned toward you, his usual unreadable expression in place.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice steady but his eyes filled with that quiet exhaustion you had come to recognize.

You swallowed, nerves threatening to choke your words. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Jamil raised a brow, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gathered your courage. “I, uh… Well, Jamil, I like you. A lot. I know you’re always busy, taking care of Kalim, and I know how hard you work, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way. I've been holding onto those feelings for a very long time.”

For a moment, there was silence. Jamil blinked, visibly taken aback by your confession. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to hesitate, his brows furrowing in deep thought.

You pressed on, feeling your chest tighten. “I just wanted you to know. I know you have a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to be a burden, but I had to tell you how I feel.”

Jamil exhaled slowly, his eyes softening as he watched you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but again, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to pull him back.

“It’s not that I don’t…” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t afford to get distracted right now. Kalim needs me. I can’t let my guard down, even if it’s for something — someone — I care about.”

Your breath hitched at his words but before you could respond, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

“Oh, come on, Jamil!” Kalim’s voice rang out from behind the nearby fountain, startling both of you. He stepped out from behind the marble structure with a wide grin, looking between you and Jamil like this was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. “I knew you liked them too! You don’t have to worry about me so much!”

Jamil’s eyes widened in shock, a flush creeping up his neck. “Kalim — what are you — how long have you been listening?”

Kalim waved off Jamil’s question with a laugh, completely unbothered. “Long enough! I wasn’t spying, I promise, but I heard some of what you said. Jamil, you work so hard, but you’re allowed to be happy too! I can take care of myself sometimes, you know.” He grinned, glancing at you. “And besides, I think they’d make you really happy, they always looked at you with such adoring eyes!”

Your heart fluttered, unsure of what to say. Kalim, in his usual cheerful way, had just dismantled all the walls Jamil had carefully built around himself.

“Kalim, it’s not that simple,” Jamil muttered, still looking flustered.

Kalim crossed his arms, his grin never fading. “It is that simple! You deserve to have someone who cares about you. I’ll be fine! And, you know, I kinda already figured you liked them.”

Jamil looked down, clearly battling with himself, but Kalim’s words seemed to have chipped away at his resolve. He glanced back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and… something else.

After a long pause, Jamil let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I do like you. More than I’ve wanted to admit,” He finally said, his voice soft but sincere. “But I’ve always been worried that if I let myself have something for me, it’ll somehow mess everything up.”

You stepped closer, your heart swelling with hope. “You won’t mess anything up, Jamil. You deserve to have something for yourself, too. I’m not asking you to change anything — I just want to be there for you, like you’re always there for everyone else.”

Jamil looked at you for a long moment, and finally, his tense posture relaxed. He exhaled deeply, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe… you’re right.”

Kalim clapped his hands, clearly thrilled with the way things were unfolding. “See? This is great! I’ll be fine, Jamil. You two go ahead and be happy together!”

Jamil shot him a look, but there was no real bite behind it. Instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes softening in a way you’d never seen before. “I can’t promise I’ll always get it right,” he murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “But I’ll try. If you’re willing to put up with that.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth as you took his hand. “I’m more than willing.”

As you stood there, hand in hand with Jamil, Kalim grinning like he had just orchestrated the happiest ending possible, you couldn’t help but feel that, maybe, everything had finally fallen into place.

[northopalshore]

hi!! i recently found out my due date for my daughter, can you tell me what pisces sun aries moon is like?

Awww, congratulations!! 🥹🫶🏻🫧

She'll be a very sensitive kid, kind and sweet, she may be stuck in her own world at times. You might worry about her often, aries moons usually have mothers who are very goal driven & independent you will always push her to be her best self. (Also wanting the best of the best)

You'll notice that she'll be a little rebellious at times i.e stubborn lol. I'm sure with proper communication both of you will learn to see from each other's perspective soon enough.

I also recommend looking at her other personal planets and degrees a few months after she's born to look at more specific details of her personality!

There may be some constraint between you because of her aries moon as well but the degree it's in also make a big difference. The house it's in will tell you what she may associate you with or things she saw you focused around a lot. It's also something she will internalise into adulthood.

Aries moon is a "Tiger mom" placement.

1st House: Competitions (Aries moons usually have pretty competitive mothers in general but in this house it may seem like all you see in comparison/competition to her), sports, body image, control

2nd House: Money, materialistic, debts, speaking, singing (Taurus ruled)

3rd House: Communication, school, children, being busy in general, thinking

4th House: Homelife, house, kitchen, how your house looks, being at home, family, emotions

5th House: Creativity, arts, performances, school, children

6th House: Work, chores, house, cleanliness , hygiene

7th House: Relationships, marriages, business, partnerships, exes

8th House: Constantly changing, instability, forceful energy ( you may have a karmic relationship with your daughter), obsession, control, death/losses, debt

9th House: Travel, religion, distance, higher studies, education

10th House: Career, status, ambitions, obstacles

11th House: Friends, society, social life, environment, charity, internet

12th House: Religiousness, she may feel like you're always away from her life, she may feel distant from you in general.

For example: My moon is Aries (28° cancer) in the 2nd house. My mother has always made me join all sorts of competitions (usually involving speaking or communicating) from a very young age.

I've always seen her struggling with money and finances. Our relationship has had a lot of turbulence from both ends; her forcing her way & and myself refusing to comply (arguing).

Still I feel like I can't live without her because of the degree that it's in. She genuinely cares for me as her daughter, and I see that. As much as we may butt heads I still have a very close mother daughter bond.

Being a mother is very difficult, so don't put too much pressure on yourself. There's no "one true way" a mother should be. Just trust your instincts and listen to your child as not every child is the same as the other! May all go well for your pregnancy!

Hope this helps ♡