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dumbbitchenergy17 · 2 months ago

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Reunion Interview

Plot: A reunion of our two favorite actors following their crazy lives after the ending of the fan-favorite show: The Mandalorian

Word Count: 4.7K

Pairing: Platonic!Pedro Pascal x Platonic!Reader, Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: sweet "father-daughter" moments, laughter giggles, just general fluff

A/N: This is something that's been on my mind for a while and with Gladiator 2 this only fueled it. CONTAINS CLAN OF THREE SPOILERS+WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. Read all of the Clan of Three Series here and also read Where the Wild Things Are here

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“Alright, we are all ready?” The interviewer asks and the cameramen and sound people each give their sounds of agreement and then turn to give the go-ahead to start, “Hello guys it’s a pleasure meeting you two. It must be good to reunite once again. Let’s get a little introduction then go crazy.” He greets the two actors sitting next to each other.

“Hello world I’m Pedro Pascal.” “And I’m Y/n L/n and we’re here with Variety Magazine.” The two of you greet the camera before looking at one another. Pedro gives a fake serious look and you roll your eyes at his antics and he burst into laughter.

“This is what I dealt with for five years oh god how did I do it.” You pinch the bridge of your nose while the older man dies down his chuckles.

“Don’t act all innocent you were in just as much mischief as I was.” Pedro points at you, “I was barely an adult on set you’re supposed to be the responsible one.” It seemed like years had flown by. This TV show was your breakthrough role and allowed your career to skyrocket and it was all thanks to meeting this man.

“Plenty of fun stories from set between the cast and crew.” The interviewer asks you both and Pedro nods enthusiastically.

“The first two seasons this one was attached to my hip. I couldn’t even go for a nap without her waiting outside of my trailer.” He says with a chuckle and you cross your arms.

“You were the only person on set who was childish enough to want to hang out with a high schooler.” You reply sassily and the interviewer has to cover his mouth to hide his laughter while Pedro gasps dramatically while holding his chest. “How dare you call me childish.”

“So Y/n being the youngest person of the cast and growing up on the show how did it affect your character?” You smile smoothing out the wrinkle in your pants.

“Well, I was cast in 2018 a couple of months after Pedro was already cast. It’s funny cause Dave and Jon actually when creating this show my character was never meant to be in this show just an idea thrown around.” You explain, “But they decided why not add another bounty for Mando to take care of, but through the show, they both learn to take care of each other and he becomes a father figure to her.”

“And Pedro how was that playing a role of becoming a father figure and being there in her life?” He asks and Pedro scratches his beard.

“I mean at first not gonna lie I was very nervous. I have worked with younger actors before but this was something different. It wasn’t a child actor that played my son or daughter, or someone who was an adult it was a teenager that I would be working with quite closely. I mean we met for our first table read and you were just this shy girl who was meant to be this sassy badass character. But you blew me and the crew away when we started working together,” Pedro says glancing over at you with a nostalgic look in his eyes, “Both the relationship of our characters had this whole evolution from being adversaries and not even friendly with one another to a bond that ran deeper than blood. I watched her grow up with every episode and season from that timid little girl to this strong intelligent woman before me.” You give a pouting smile before putting your face in your hands.

“I hate you. You’re gonna make me cry.” You sigh making the interviewer and Pedro laugh and wraps his arms around your hunched-over body rocking you side to side. “You’re not the only one teary-eyed,” The interviewer says fanning his eyes and you smile at his attempt to not single you out.

“It’s all good I’m professional.” You steel your face wiping away any trace of sadness from his touching speech. “Yeah, Pedro is an alright guy I guess.” You shrug and Pedro bursts into laughter throwing his head back

“Okay getting back on track. You’ve both been very busy this past year. Season 3 of The Mandalorian has been out and fans are both crying over how good this show is and how you tore us all apart with the ending.” He says and Pedro fake cries remembering the ending.

“Hey, I didn’t want her to leave me. She went to go find herself.” He points his thumb at me and you slap it away, “I didn’t have a decision in it as well. You should have seen him on my final day of filming, so as you know this man over here was gone pretty much all of season three cause he was filming his show with his other kids.” Referencing Bella Ramsey and Nico Parker his two other ‘children’ in The Last Of Us.

“Pedro is just our favorite father figure.” The interviewer says and you nod in agreement. “You have too many children to keep count of.” You say and Pedro gives a sheepish grin.

“I’m just good with kids.” He shrugs.

“But anyways so since he was busy filming for that show we were able to have his amazing stunt doubles, I love you Brendan and Lateef become him. So comes my final scene where I leave and Din is left all sad with Grogu. I think he’s in Canada filming and we block out the scene Dave and Jon tell us we’re all set. That scene feels very close to me 'cause it feels like my goodbye to both the character and to the crew who’s been there since I was eighteen.” You remember the sadness that day on set knowing that this was your final hours with this group.

“So we start rolling and I go through my whole monologue,”

“Which was amazing by the way.” The interviewer butts in and you smile,

“Oh thank you. So I do my thing and who I think is Brendan just breaks down crying before he can say his line I panic and try to improvise to get him back on track but when Dave calls cut I expect it to be Brendan to take off the helmet and apologize but turns out it was this crybaby.” You point your thumb to an embarrassed Pedro.

“Did you expect no waterworks when you were leaving me?” He defends himself, “I didn’t expect you there in the first place! But it was sweet and after many takes because he couldn’t get through his lines without crying we finished my last scenes.”

“I have seen that video from Dave Filoni of the behind-the-scenes of your final day on set.” On the TV beside the interviewer plays a video that shows the set and crew and there are the two of you going through the scene before Jon calls cut.

You remember that take vividly it ended up being the one used for the final cut, the second ‘Cut!’ was shouted the crew broke into cheers. You immediately crouch and break into tears and Pedro removes his helmet pulling you into a bearhug crying into your shoulder you both cry out your characters and each other's final goodbyes on set.

“Give it up to Y/n for her final scene! That’s a wrap for her.” Dave says behind the camera as it moves closer to you and Pedro. Both of you were teary-eyed, Pedro looking like a wreck as you give a cheesy grin through tears and Pedro presses a kiss to your temple before pulling you into another tight hug and that’s when the video ends.

“A very heartfelt video that shows the bond you two have working together over five years.” He says and the two of you smile. Just being a part of the Star Wars franchise had been a dream, growing up watching the original and the prequels as a child and now being involved in this story was game-changing. “Outside of Star Wars, you’ve both been very busy Pedro with Wonder Woman, The Unbearable Weight, hosting SNL, and one of the most popular shows of this year The Last of Us.”

“Stop it you’re making me blush.” Pedro waves his hand acting bashfully, “Don’t forget the three Emmy nominations.” You pipe in and Pedro covers his face at all the compliments headed his way. This man was way too humble.

“You’re not off the hook either you’ve been very busy yourself, you got your nomination for an Emmy for ‘The Mandalorian’, you’ve been in Bullet Train, Across the Spider-Verse, In the Heights, the latest Indiana Jones, and you just wrapped up A Quiet Place: Day One, all while going to school and getting your college degree now finally enjoying adulthood, how is that like.” The interviewer reminds you of the work you’ve done in the past five years.

You laugh twisting the rings that adore your fingers, “I mean high school was easier as I had an on-set teacher and graduated right around in the middle of filming In the Heights. Then for college right as the pandemic hit we all were on lockdown I continued with online courses and once it lifted it was working a schedule of classes and work but all the films I’ve been on have been so accommodating. With the program I took I graduated right after we wrapped Season 3 and before the Press Tour,” Pedro makes a cheering noise as the interviewer laughs.

“I’m assuming you were in attendance for that Pedro?” He questions and Pedro nods enthusiastically, “Of course, I was there for both high school and college! I made a sign and everything.” He and the interviewer laugh as you shake your head.

“Did he?!”

“It was the same big sign with a bunch of horrible pictures of me I think it said, ‘Y/n L/n my unofficial daughter’ with like a bunch of hearts.” You can picture the sign clearly remembering both high school and college walking across the stage to receive your diploma and hearing your friends and family cheer Pedro being one of the loudest.

“Since graduating and now fully dedicating yourself to film how has it been?” The interviewer questions and you give a wide smile.

“I love it so much, while it was stressful balancing work and classes being done is so rewarding. I’ve been able to accept so many new projects and attend so many events I couldn’t before due to classes.” In college, you and your manager had discussed your schedule working around sets while focusing on your education. You decided to strictly do online courses just to make things easier if you do need to travel for work but you’ve been to school events and made friends in college despite your virtual learning.

“Is this the first time you are meeting back up in person since the premiere of Season Three?” He asks and it makes sense with your guys’ busy schedules.

“No surprisingly since we wrapped Season Three there was a time when we didn’t see each other, with Pedro busy with Strange Way of Life, and I had just ended college. Plus I just moved to New York and then got involved with A Quiet Place we didn’t see each other in person until I think it was when you hosted SNL..?” You explain and Pedro perks up.

“Nooo you were there for the premiere of The Last of Us.” He calls you out and your jaw drops you completely forget how busy and how many premieres it all blends. “I would say you kinda stole the show when you appeared on the carpet, none of us were expecting you to be there.” The interviewer says with a laugh.

“That would be an understatement. So it’s the night before the premiere I’m in LA and I think she’s still in New York I remember I called you cause I felt like I was going to die,” Pedro retells and you laugh remembering picking up the phone to see a very nervous Pedro who was pacing in a panic about the premiere for the show.

“You were fine just being a big baby as usual you did the same thing during season one.” He shushes you trying to cover your mouth with his hand but you dodge from it.

“ANYWAYS,” He raises his voice, “Night of the premiere and I feel like I’m going to puke and crap myself all at the same time. But I get there everything is alright I see the rest of the cast happy to see Bellie again all those good things. I’m doing an interview and I think Bella was still on the carpet taking some photos when this roar of cheers came from the beginning. I’m thinking it’s Ashley Johnson or Troy Baker the original Joel and Ellie but I can’t see from down there. So they want me to get some photos with Bella and how I couldn’t tell they were planning something is beyond me.” You and the interviewer start giggling and you see queued up is a video from that night.

“Oh god, you have a video!” Pedro groans covering his face and you nudge him forcing him to watch.

The shouts of fans and photographers as Pedro poses for photos and you can see Bella go over and pull him over as the pair take photos together. Pedro places his hand on his stomach a technique he has used for years to quell his anxiety. The flashing lights and screams of fans only grow louder for a second and he just laughs confused at them. Bella squeezes his arm from his right side and he can sense a presence on his left side and he assumes it’s another cast member.

“Hey P…” A voice whispers in his ear and his eyes widen comically and he whips to turn to face you who has a cheesy smile on your face.

“What the fuck!”

The cameras show Pedro quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you in the air and you laugh loudly before he puts you down and immediately talks rapidly questioning how you are here, how this happened, when you planned this, he had just called you a few hours before. The cameras start yelling at you two to pose and the pair of you pose a big grin spread across Pedro’s face. The video ends as he pulls Bella and Nico making it a group photo of all his on-screen daughters.

You laugh as it freezes at the photo of all of you smiling and laughing.

“I’m still in shock you managed to pull a fast one on me but that truly made my night,” Pedro says.

“It was all Bella and Nico’s planning I didn’t even know how they even managed to keep it from you during all those press tours. I was fully there like four days before the premiere,” You say, and on the screen are photos you had posted following the surprise of you hanging with Bella and Nico, and the rest of the last of us crew. One photo that makes you giggle is you standing before a snoring Pedro on a couch in a green room that you had Bella take for you when you snuck to watch their interviews.

“Speaking of Bella and Nico. I would say you including Sophie Thatcher blew up the internet in the ‘Children of Pedro’ interview,” The interviewer mentions and you smile and a thumbnail of the interview with you and these amazing actors and actresses.

“Oh, that interview was so much fun. It was the first time I met Bella and Nico as I worked alongside Sophie during Boba Fett and we all had this instant chemistry. Following that we all became good friends and we try to hang out when any of us are in town or plan stuff.” You explain and you see Pedro has a warm smile happy to see all the people he cares deeply for are friends, “Pedro’s glad all his children aren’t fighting.” You smirk and both the interviewer and Pedro laugh at your comment.

“I’m glad my home has some form of order,” Pedro bounces off your quip and the interviewer looks over some of his notes.

“Alright, I have some fan questions sent in for the both of you to answer if that’s alright.” He asks as both you and Pedro take sips from your drinks.

“Sounds great!” “Hit me with them.”

The interviewer nods excitedly looking over at you, “Alright Y/n we’ll start with you. This is a question from @pedroswife1975 ‘I was just as gagged at Pedro’s SNL performance I wanted to know if you had any clue of Pedro’s plans or did you go in just as blind as everyone else.’.” The screen shows a college work on Pedro’s SNL night.

“Oh, that was a crazy night, I was so excited to hear he was hosting SNL cause I was used to this guy’s craziness,” You say pointing a thumb at the older man, “I didn’t realize he was dropping hints or asking for my opinion like the fan cam skit he asked me about how I felt about like fan edits. To those watching I love them so much and genuinely lay in bed kicking my legs seeing the crazy shit yall make of me or people I know. Also, that fucking voice in the memory lost one.” Pedro bursts into laughter.

“What voice? This is my normal talking voice.” He flawlessly does the valley girl's voice that makes you speak through giggles.

“I think it was when he was in New York to rehearse for SNL and we’ve been meeting up and hanging out and we were at this cafe and he slips into this voice and I literally couldn’t help giggling,” You say, “So when I go to the taping I had to cover my mouth to stop from giggling everyone second.”

“It’s an amazing voice though.” The interviewer says in the valley girl accent, “Oh totally it’s completely amazingggg.” You respond by going heavy on the vocal fry unable to burst into a fit of giggles alongside Pedro.

“Okay, next question for Pedro. This is from @y/nssoulmate ‘I’m dying to know cause those Instagram photos were insane, but how crazy was Y/n’s 21st birthday?! Please I’m dying to know I’ll give my first child to know!!’.” You immediately groan covering your face and the pair laugh. On the screen appears a photo of your twenty-first birthday it’s partially blurry but it’s of you looking plastered. A ‘21’ crown halfway on your frizzy hair from the humidity of Pedro’s apartment that he transformed into a club vibe, a drunk grin on your face with an arm around Pedro’s shoulder the other holding a martini. Pedro is practically holding you up looking drunk as well as a beer in his free hand.

Pedro chuckles rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m going to be so honest I don’t remember much of that night. Someone thought it was a good idea to try and outdrink each other.”

“Hey! I was given full rein since it was my birthday. You were meant to be the responsible adult. Luckily Sarah Paulson and Oscar Issac were the actual adults that night,” You defend yourself. Truly that night was a blur but it was such a fun night. Your friends had taken you out for breakfast and a full day of celebration before you received a text from Pedro to go to his apartment to get his gift that he accidentally shipped to his place. Turns out it was a surprise and he was able to come back from shooting for The Last of Us and bring along your close friends and family.

“For my soulmate unfortunately neither Pedro nor I remember that night but trust from what those there that night it was the best birthday someone could through for me. Though I did avoid alcohol for like a month.” You say and Pedro groans remembering the hangout you both suffered the following day.

“Okay question for you Ms. Partyer. @imstillsadfromkazsdeath,” You laugh at hearing from the person’s social handle, “Their question is with news of both Wicked which you worked alongside Director John Chu during In the Heights, and Gladiator 2 has your co-star, Joseph Quinn, your father-figure Pedro, and your friend Paul Mescal coming out at the same time. Which are you seeing first Wicked or Gladiator 2?” On the screen, it shows a college of you with each respective person mentioned. A photo of you nineteen on set in New York City with John Chu and Lin Manuel Miranda, a picture of you and Pedro during premiere of season 3 of Mandalorian, a picture of you and Joseph Quinn on the set of A Quiet Place both dusty and covered in fake blood, and finally a picture of you and Paul Mescal at the this recent Met Gala a candid photo of inside the event talking during dinner.

“One more of a sidebar, I’m still sad about Kaz’s death if I could’ve changed it I would’ve both Freddy and I were so bummed filming those scenes. But for your question fuck you.” You answer so seriously that both Pedro and the interviewer burst into laughter.

“Seriously fuck you for making me choose. One I love John Chu and I am so excited to see Wicked I’ve been obsessed with it since a kid and I saw Idina and Kristin on Broadway so I need to see what Cynthia and Ariana do with this. But I also love all three guys and want to support them too 'cause I also love Gladiator and I know my father would be super betrayed since it’s our go-to movie to watch.” You were in such a rough spot.

“Can I clone myself?” You ask and both Pedro and the interviewer shake their head which makes you let out a frustrated groan, “You know what? I’ll see whatever movie I get invited to first. This leaves me not to choose it’s in the hands of John and the boys so they need to battle it out.”

“Wow, seriously such a cop-out,” Pedro whines and you shrug, “You can’t force me to decide if I don’t have the choice.”

“Very well played. Alright, our final question for Pedro from @pedroiszaddyfr they ask ‘Hey Pedro if I get chosen I’m absolutely in love with you and just want you to know that.”

“Aw, I love you too,” Pedro replies and the interviewer continues.

“So my question is in The Last of Us after season 1 in the books ‘The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are’ we do get introduced to Joel’s second biological daughter is there any potential plans to include them in the show making them canon since they aren’t in Part 2 and if so. Please for the love of all these mighty get Y/n to play your daughter she would kill the role!” The interviewer chuckles at the question and you look over at Pedro who thinks over the question.

“Well as I’m sure many of you do know in the books we do get an extremely interesting character that changes and adds more depth to the characters of the game. I’d love them to add her into the show and we see the change in Joel and Ellie during the period before season two. I mean I’d be so down for Y/n to be a part of this but that’s in the hands of Craig and Neil. Unless you know something I don’t?” Pedro turns to look at you and you raise your hands shaking your head.

“I’m just as clueless as you. But I would love to be a part of the show. I’ve read the book and she truly is such an interesting character. I mean that opening fight scene in the cabin before Joel and Tommy pull up is so fucking cool. But yeah Craig and Neil hit me up before Pedro starts begging and whining.” You say and a bark of laughter comes from the older man.

“Well thank you both so much for taking the time and talking about your lives and this amazing reunion. Is this the last you too will see each other until the next reunion?” The interviewer says.

“Nope! This girl can’t get rid of me now that we’re both back in New York for the time being.” Pedro says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and resting his head on top of yours.

“If anyone wants to take this old man off my hand you can have him,” You comment and Pedro gasps pushing you away from him as you giggle, “I’m kidding I love him and he’s amazing but yeah we got tickets for Beyonce coming up so I am very excited while I need this one to listen to her entire discography before we go,” You point your thumb at him and he raises his hand.

“Hey, I got a decent chunk under my belt. Plus I’ve known Beyonce longer than you.” Pedro says and the pair of you being bickering having that be the outro of the interview.

The pair of you collect your items from your dressing rooms before heading outside. Pedro has his arm wrapped around your shoulder to make sure you don’t bump into anything your gaze glued to your phone. The cool New York breeze sends chills down your spine as you scroll through Instagram. A buzz from your phone a text saying ‘Look up’ and when you look up you see Paul standing a few feet away in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt a trench coat over it with a cap and glasses.

“Paul!” You smile lowering your phone and pulling away from Pedro to go over to Paul who welcomes you in his arms, “I thought we were gonna meet at dinner?”

He shrugs a half grin on his face, “Thought I surprise you and then we can head together. What’s up Pedro” You smile at his thoughtfulness. Pedro accepts his handshake.

“Good to see you Paul, how’s the city treating you?” He asks knowing that Paul came here just a few days ago from London when you mentioned it.

“Good real good. You know how the city usually is but luckily I have a good guide,” Paul says squeezing your shoulder and you flush shying away. Pedro smiles glad to see you are happy as the pair of you look at each other with loving looks.

“Well, I’ll leave you both be to enjoy the rest of your night. I got plans to meet with Sarah and Lux soon,” He says giving Paul a handshake before you pull away and give Pedro a big hug which he equally reciprocates.

“Send Sarah and Lux my regards.” You say and Pedro nods, “Lux wants to see you soon so be sure to reach out to her.”

“I will and don’t forget we have drinks this Friday,” You say pointing your finger at him and he nods while pulling out his headphones.

“Yes, mom…” He rolls his eyes before starting to walk away sending a final wave, “Have a good night!”

“Bye Pedro.” “Bye P I love you!” You shout so he can hear over his headphones.

“Love you too kid!” He says blowing you a kiss before disappearing within the crowd. You bring your attention back to Paul who tucks a stray strand behind your ear.

“What are you looking at? Is something on my face?” You ask trying to reach for your face but he stops you holding your hand and giving a squeeze.

“I’m just looking at you, a chuisle mo chroí. You’re just beautiful is all.” He says slipping to Irish so easily it sends a shiver down your spine at his accent.

“Stop being so cheesy,” Your face flushes hot as you shove him away starting in the direction of the subway station. You hear him run up after you easily wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a kiss on your lips which you eagerly accept your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Pulling away a bit, he gives a familiar smirk that makes you grin as you fully step back taking hand and the pair make their way to your plans.

“You’re such a sap.”

“A sap for you my love~”

“Shut up!”

a/n: y'all I'm alive I swear these finals have truly been killing me and TRUST, any paused work will be coming back I swear on my unborn child.

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svt-luna · 26 days ago

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𝜗℘ TALKING TO THE MOON

❛ 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘪 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧— 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯? ❜

timeline: 2018

synopsis: After months of avoidance and awkward interactions, two hearts finally break their barriers, sharing confessions under the moonlight and finding the closure they both desperately needed.

warnings: angst, cursing, crying, arguments, mentions of anxiety, yelling, “i hate you!” (lies), closure, confessions, reconciliation, some heart-wrenching shit, simp!Jeonghan, scared!Luna, heart-to-heart talks, explanations, Yoon Jeonghan will be on his knees… begging, heartfelt, hopeful, somewhat a happy and silly ending, ends with fluff

due to popular demand of more angst here is more of the rejection aftermath. this story takes place after If Only & Can I Be Him? and takes place before His English Love Affair. so i highly recommend reading everything in order to understand. every single one-shot in my blog is arranged in chronological order in the writings masterlist which is linked below👇 happy reading, my loves 🤍🩵

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

Jeonghan is an island.

Not in the literal sense, but in the way he exists.

To him, being an island means standing steady amidst the tide, a constant presence when the waves threaten to overwhelm those around him.

Jeonghan has always seen himself that way— a safe haven for his loved ones, a place they could come to with their burdens and leave feeling just a little lighter.

He takes pride in this role, knowing that if someone he cares about feels lost, they can always find their way back to him. And when they’re ready to leave, to set sail again, he’ll let them go with a quiet smile, no questions asked. He exists as a constant— a refuge, a quiet place to rest before facing the storm again.

Jeonghan has always been that for the people he loves, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. When the members of SEVENTEEN come to him, seeking advice, a listening ear, or simply someone to sit with in silence, Jeonghan is there.

He listens patiently, his eyes fixed on theirs with a quiet intensity that tells them he is fully present. He doesn’t rush to fill the silence with platitudes or fix their problems for them. Instead, he allows them to speak, unraveling their worries, frustrations, and fears as he holds space for them.

More often than not, the members leave those moments with him feeling lighter. They walk away with the weight of their worries softened, bolstered by his quiet reassurances or the practical wisdom he dispenses so naturally.

In their world of relentless schedules and pressure, Jeonghan is their counselor, their confidant, their steady shore.

But no one seeks him out more than Luna.

For as long as Jeonghan could remember, Luna had always gravitated toward him in times of need.

Out of thirteen members, she could have turned to anyone. Each of them was capable in their own way— each a pillar of strength, kindness, and understanding. And yet, time and time again, Luna came to Jeonghan.

It wasn’t because he was the most understanding or the most overtly comforting. It wasn’t because he had all the answers. It was simply because Jeonghan knew how to listen.

He listened in a way that made you feel seen.

Truly seen.

Luna would come to him during her moments of doubt, her voice cracking under the weight of frustration or pain. Sometimes, she would rant about the pressures of their industry, her words tumbling out in rapid succession as she paced the room with clenched fists. Other times, she would sit quietly, her eyes filled with unshed tears, as she shared her fears, her insecurities, and the thoughts that kept her awake at night.

And Jeonghan— he would just listen.

He never judged. Never interrupted. He let her speak until her voice grew hoarse or until she could no longer hold back her tears.

On some occasions, Luna didn’t want advice; she just needed someone to bear witness to her pain, and Jeonghan respected that.

When she didn’t need solutions, he didn’t offer any. He simply sat there, unwavering, his presence a balm to her raw emotions.

On other occasions, Luna would fall apart completely, her sobs breaking through the walls she worked so hard to build. And Jeonghan would be there, his arms wrapping around her as she cried into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. He’d rest his chin on her head, murmuring soft reassurances or nothing at all, letting her release everything she had bottled up inside. He would hold her until her tears subsided and her breathing evened out, and even then, he wouldn’t let go until she was ready.

Sometimes, when the tears had stopped, Luna would stay in his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Those moments would stick with him long after she left, her gratitude settling in his chest like a warm, lingering weight.

Jeonghan never failed her.

Not once.

Whenever Luna needed him— whether it was for advice, for a hug, or simply for a quiet moment of understanding— he was there, always.

And for him, that was enough. To be her constant, her refuge, her island.

It was a privilege Jeonghan remembered to never take for granted.

He also remembered how Luna had been the first person to offer herself to be his island when he needed it most.

It was years ago, back when they were merely trainees, their dreams raw and fragile, and their bodies pushed to the brink of exhaustion day after day. He was seventeen then, and she was just sixteen, both of them barely holding it together under the immense weight of expectations.

Yet somehow, amidst the chaos of it all, they had found each other.

It was late at night, the kind of late where the world was quiet, and even Seoul seemed to pause and take a breath.

The two of them sat by the Han River, tucked away in a secluded corner where no one would find them. The air was cool but not biting, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of water and earth. The river stretched out before them, dark and glimmering under the moonlight, its surface rippling faintly with the movement of the current. Above them, the sky was a deep navy, scattered with stars that peeked through the haze of city lights.

It was peaceful, the kind of peace that allowed them to simply exist without pretense.

Jeonghan had leaned back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching the water shimmer. Luna sat cross-legged beside him, her chin resting on her knees, her face illuminated by the soft silver glow of the moon. She looked so serene, as if the weight she carried every day had been momentarily lifted, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride that maybe, just maybe, he had helped with that.

They had been talking for hours, their conversation meandering between dreams and struggles, fears and hopes. Luna had shared her frustrations— the grueling hours of practice, the aching muscles that never seemed to heal, the pressure to prove herself in a room full of talent. She had spoken about her fear of failure, of being left behind, and Jeonghan had listened quietly, nodding when appropriate, offering a few words of comfort when needed.

And then, when she had finally fallen silent, Jeonghan had spoken softly, his voice carrying the kind of weight that came from someone who understood exactly what she was going through.

“Nana-ya,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the river, “if it ever gets too much… you can come to me, you know? Just like this.”

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and curious.

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice firm but gentle. “If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed, if you just need a break… I’ll be your island. A place to rest.”

Luna blinked at him, her expression softening as his words sank in. “An island?” she repeated, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah,” Jeonghan replied, sitting up now and turning to face her. “An island. Somewhere you can come to when you need to escape. No judgment, no pressure. You can tell me all your worries or you can just… rest. And when you’re ready, you can leave and come back whenever you want.”

Luna looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if she were trying to memorize every detail. Then, she tilted her head slightly, her smile widening.

“But what about you?”

Jeonghan frowned, confused. “What about me?”

Luna’s gaze didn’t waver. “Who’s going to be your island, Hannie?”

The question caught him off guard.

No one had ever asked him that before.

Jeonghan stared at her, his lips parting slightly as he struggled to find an answer. But before he could say anything, Luna leaned closer, her voice soft but certain.

“I can be your island, Hannie.”

Jeonghan froze, his heart skipping a beat as he stared at her.

Luna was looking at him with such earnestness, her smile so warm and genuine that it made his chest ache. The moonlight framed her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her jaw, the faint blush on her cheeks, and the gentle sparkle in her eyes. She looked like a dream, so achingly beautiful that it took everything in him not to reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. The moonlight softened her features, illuminating her skin with a silver glow, and he found himself thinking that she had never looked more beautiful than she did in this moment of quiet contemplation.

In that moment, seventeen-year-old Jeonghan knew.

He had known since the first time he saw her that he had a crush on her— how could he not? Every trainee did.

But now, as she sat there offering herself to him in a way no one else ever had, he realized it was so much more than a crush. It was something deeper, something that made his heart feel too big for his chest and his thoughts spiral in directions he couldn’t control.

And yet, he shook his head mentally, pushing the thought away before it could consume him. Instead, he let a teasing smile curl on his lips.

“Island, huh?” he said, his tone light and playful. “You’re going to have to come up with a new term, Nana-ya. Island is mine. I’m trademarking it.”

Luna rolled her eyes, her laugh soft but genuine. “Alright, fine,” she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. “I’ll think of something else.”

They chuckled together, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water against the riverbank. Slowly, their laughter faded, leaving behind a comfortable silence that felt as natural as breathing.

Luna tilted her head back, her gaze fixed on the moon hanging high above them, its pale light casting a soft glow over the world.

Jeonghan, however, didn’t look at the moon.

He couldn’t.

Because the moon was sitting right next to him.

Jeonghan let the comfortable silence stretch between them.

The sound of the river’s quiet ripples filled the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Han?”

Her voice broke the silence, soft but deliberate.

Jeonghan hummed in acknowledgment, his head tilting slightly toward her.

“You know what I’m named after, right?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

Jeonghan nodded without hesitation, his lips curving into a faint smile. “The moon.”

Luna’s grin widened as she nodded in return, impressed by his certainty. Of course, he remembered— she had told him once, during one of their late-night conversations in the practice room, how her mother had chosen her name because of her fascination with the moon.

“My mom is weirdly obsessed with the moon,” Luna chuckled, turning back to gaze at it. Her voice was light, but there was a warmth to it, a fondness that Jeonghan could hear clearly.

Jeonghan stayed quiet, watching her from behind. He didn’t interrupt; he knew she was building toward something.

“She used to tell me that when she was younger, she’d talk to the moon about her worries and her problems.

“Talk to it?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with curiosity but devoid of judgment.

“Not out loud,” Luna explained, gesturing with her hands as if trying to clarify. “More like… mentally, you know? Just looking up at it and mentally speaking to it. Does that make sense?”

Jeonghan’s lips twitched upward, his gaze never leaving her animated expression as she spoke. “It does,” he said simply, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. “Her heart speaks to it.”

Luna paused, her hands falling to her lap as she turned to look at him. Her wide eyes shimmered with surprise, as if she hadn’t expected him to understand so easily.

Most people laughed or dismissed the story as strange, but not Jeonghan.

Never Jeonghan. He always understood.

“Yes,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. She smiled, small and appreciative, and for a moment, she felt her heart skip a beat. Then, as if shaking herself out of her thoughts, she laughed lightly. “Anyway, sometimes I like to do that too. Just stare at the moon and… mentally talk to it. It’s comforting. So maybe you can do that too.”

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. “Talk to the moon?” he mused, his tone teasing but thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Luna nodded, her smile growing.

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jeonghan continued to admire her in quiet fascination, while Luna seemed lost in her own world, her gaze fixed on the moon above.

Then she giggled, her laughter light and airy, breaking the stillness. “There are even stories and myths about the man in the moon,” she said with a smirk, turning to face him.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “The man in the moon? You mean the little boy fishing?”

Luna blinked at him, her brow furrowing in confusion.

It took her a moment before realization dawned, and she burst out laughing. “That’s the ‘DreamWorks’ intro! Not that!”

Jeonghan smirked at her, his expression playful. “No? You and your mom aren’t talking to a little boy fishing in the moon?”

Luna scrunched her nose at him, pretending to pout as she glared. But her mock annoyance quickly melted into giggles. “No, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes as she shifted closer, lying down beside him. She rested her head against his outstretched arm, her body relaxing into his warmth.

She pointed toward the moon, her finger tracing invisible patterns in the sky. “They call it ‘the man in the moon’ because sometimes, if you look closely, it looks like it has a face. See?”

Jeonghan followed the direction of her finger, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on the craters. “Hmm,” he said after a moment. “It does.”

“See?” Luna said again, her voice tinged with pride. She turned to him with a triumphant smile. “So instead of an island, you can talk to the moon.”

Jeonghan’s eyes softened as they met hers, a small smile playing on his lips. “I already do talk to my moon.”

Luna’s brows furrowed, her head tilting in confusion. “Your moon?” she echoed. “You do? What do you tell it?”

“You tell me,” Jeonghan said, his voice lowering ever so slightly. He finally looked down at her, their faces inches apart, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You’re the only moon I talk to.”

Luna’s breath hitched. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as his words settled in, her heart thudding against her ribcage. But she didn’t say anything, her lips curving into a soft smile instead.

That moment of silence carried a weight to it, one filled with unspoken understanding.

And from then on, Jeonghan’s favorite nickname for her was born.

His moon.

His pretty moon.

From the moment under the moonlight at Han River, Jeonghan and Luna had unknowingly started a tradition— one that became their sanctuary amidst the chaos of their lives.

It began innocently, born from that night when a seventeen-year-old Jeonghan and a sixteen-year-old Luna shared their hearts under the stars.

Whenever the weight of their training bore down on them, they’d find themselves wandering back to that secluded spot by the Han River. It became their unspoken agreement: no matter how tired, how frustrated, or how uncertain they felt about their futures, they’d sit side by side and talk.

They’d talk about everything and nothing.

The worries that festered in their minds, the dreams that seemed just out of reach, the frustrations of not being good enough in their own eyes. Sometimes they’d rant, voices loud and passionate, the river carrying their words away like an invisible confidant. Other times, they’d fall into contemplative silences, punctuated only by the sounds of water lapping at the shore or the rustling of trees in the night breeze.

Even after debuting and becoming idols, Jeonghan and Luna fought to keep this tradition alive.

Their once-frequent visits to Han River dwindled as schedules filled with practices, performances, and public appearances.

But they found ways to adapt.

Instead of sitting by the river, they’d sit on the floor of one of their apartments, cups of tea— or sometimes wine— cradled in their hands as they leaned against the sofa, talking until the early hours of the morning.

When their schedules took them abroad, hotel rooms became their new haven. No matter where they were, Jeonghan and Luna made time for each other when they needed it most.

But everything changed almost a year ago.

Jeonghan hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on those late-night talks until they were gone. He hadn’t understood how much Luna’s quiet wisdom and steady presence meant to him until he lost it.

The last time they had one of their late-night conversations was a night that Jeonghan replayed in his mind more often than he cared to admit.

It had started like all the others— a quiet moment after a long day, a bottle of wine between them, and an unspoken understanding that they were each other’s safe space. But that night had taken an unexpected turn when Luna, cheeks flushed and words slightly slurred, had confessed her feelings for him.

“You make me feel things,” she had said, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with emotion. “And I hate it.”

Jeonghan had been stunned, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. But the sincerity in her eyes, the vulnerability in her expression, made him painfully aware of the weight of his next words.

He had declined her feelings a few days after— not out of malice, but because he was scared, it was risky. Also because he wasn’t sure he could be what she deserved at that moment. Before he had the opportunity to tell her as much, Luna brushed it off and dashed out the elevator, his heart aching at the way her face fell.

Since then, everything between them had changed.

The awkwardness was subtle at first, but it grew with time. Their once-effortless conversations became stilted, filled with polite exchanges that lacked their usual warmth. When they were alone, the silences between them were no longer comfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

Even in group settings, Jeonghan felt the shift. Luna would exchange a few words with him here and there, but she gravitated toward Mingyu more and more.

It hadn’t taken Jeonghan long to notice the way Mingyu had become Luna’s confidant. He saw how Mingyu stayed by her side, offering her the support that Jeonghan no longer could. And while a part of him was relieved that she had someone to lean on, another part of him couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that crept into his chest whenever he saw them together.

So, Jeonghan gave her the space she seemed to want. He told himself it was for the best, that she deserved to heal in her own way and in her own time. He respected her boundaries, even though it meant losing the one person who had always been his island… his moon.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, the memories of those late-night talks played in his mind like scenes from a movie. He could still hear the sound of her laughter, see the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she was passionate about.

He could still feel the comfort of her presence, the way she always knew what to say to ease his mind.

And Jeonghan missed her.

He missed his moon.

Jeonghan sat on his couch, the glow from the city lights spilling through the window casting faint patterns across his living room. His mind churned endlessly, cycling through the same thoughts that had been haunting him for months now.

No matter how much he tried to shake them off, they persisted. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and sighed deeply, raking a hand through his hair.

His gaze drifted to the moonlit sky outside, and without realizing it, his mind wandered back to that first late-night talk at the Han River with Luna.

It was so many years ago, yet the memory was so vivid it felt like it had happened yesterday. He remembered the way the moonlight reflected on the water, how their quiet voices had melded with the soft sound of the current. He could almost hear her voice again, playful yet serious, telling him to talk to the moon when he’s struggling.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. If he was honest, he’d never taken her advice— not because he thought it was foolish, but because he never needed to.

Why talk to the moon when he’d always had her?

Whenever he was drowning in worries or self-doubt, Luna had been his island. His anchor. His moon. The one person who understood him without him having to explain.

But now, with a gulf between them that felt impossible to cross, her advice suddenly didn’t seem so silly.

So for the past few months Jeonghan has been looking up at the moon, watching it as he mentally cried his heart out.

Tonight was no different. But tonight something was pulling him to talk to the moon somewhere else.

With that, Jeonghan stood up. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and reached for his car keys on the counter. His decision felt impulsive but right, like this was exactly what he needed to do.

Han River, the sanctuary they had shared so many times. But this time, he’d be going alone.

As he stepped into the hallway, the familiar sound of a door closing echoed from just beside his own. He froze, the keys in his hand jangling softly, and turned his head toward the apartment next to his. His breath hitched as Luna emerged, bundled in an oversized jacket, her own car keys clutched in her hand. She was locking her door, her movements deliberate yet distracted.

When Luna finally looked up, her gaze met his, and they both froze.

For a moment, neither of them said a word. It was as if time had slowed, the hallway shrinking to just the two of them.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other earlier that day— they’d been side by side for a team photoshoot, exchanging polite but distant words.

Yet, this moment felt different.

Charged.

Jeonghan’s first thought was that the universe must have grown tired of watching them avoid each other.

As cliché as it was— there was no other explanation.

This had to be fate’s way of giving them a nudge— a forceful push, really.

Luna blinked, breaking the spell, but her surprise was evident. Jeonghan noticed the way her fingers tightened briefly on her keys, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Instead, they just stared at each other, a strange understanding passing between them.

Because in that instant, they both knew.

They didn’t need to ask where the other was going. They already knew the answer.

Han River.

Luna was the first to glance away, her cheeks faintly pink under the hallway’s dim lighting. She shifted her weight awkwardly, clutching her keys tighter as if that would ground her.

Jeonghan, however, stayed rooted, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. After a beat of silence, he extended his hand toward her.

“Come on,” he said softly, his voice low but steady.

Luna’s eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face, searching for something in his expression. His gaze was calm, open, almost expectant. After a pause that felt much longer than it really was, she reached out and slid her hand into his. Her fingers were cold against his warmth, and something unspoken passed between them as Jeonghan gently guided her toward the elevator.

The ride down was quiet. Not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. It was a silence that carried acceptance— an understanding that neither of them could put into words just yet.

The elevator’s soft hum filled the space as they stood side by side, their hands still loosely linked. Jeonghan glanced at their joined hands briefly before looking ahead, lost in thought.

It was ironic, he thought, how the last time they were in this elevator alone, everything had changed.

Almost a year ago, Luna had laid her heart bare, only for him to gently decline.

That night had been a turning point, one that neither of them could ignore, no matter how much they tried to move on. And now, here they were again, in the same space but under entirely different circumstances.

Jeonghan didn’t miss the symmetry of it, nor the weight of what tonight could mean.

For both of them, this was the night to finally talk. To lay everything out in the open. It was either the start of mending what had been broken or the final thread that would unravel everything completely.

Jeonghan silently hoped— prayed— it would be the former.

He didn’t look at Luna, but he could feel her presence beside him, her quiet breathing grounding him.

And though neither of them spoke, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

Soon Jeonghan was driving them to Han River.

The car ride was steeped in silence, the kind that carried its own weight yet wasn’t entirely unbearable. Jeonghan kept his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead, while Luna sat in the passenger seat, her head resting lightly against the window.

The hum of the engine filled the space, accompanied by the soft tunes of the radio playing in the background. The music— a blend of mellow piano and soft vocals— felt like a balm, easing the tension between them, though neither of them acknowledged it.

The thirty-minute drive stretched on, both of them lost in their thoughts.

Jeonghan occasionally glanced at Luna from the corner of his eye, noting how her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but every time he opened his mouth, the words seemed to falter before they could form. So instead, he let the music fill the gaps, hoping it was enough to make the quiet less suffocating.

When they finally arrived at the Han River, Jeonghan pulled into their usual spot. It was secluded, a little pocket of peace away from the bustling city— a place that had become theirs over the years. He turned off the car and stepped out, the crisp night air biting at his skin.

Without a word, he walked to the passenger side and opened her door. Luna blinked up at him, momentarily startled, but she accepted his silent gesture, stepping out into the cool night.

From then on it was like clockwork.

Jeonghan made his way to the trunk, where he pulled out a blanket. It was old and slightly worn but soft, and it had lived in his car for years —just for nights like this. Draping it over one arm, he turned back to Luna, intertwining his fingers with hers without hesitation. Her hand felt cold in his, but she didn’t pull away. Gently, he guided her down the familiar path to their secluded spot by the riverbank.

Once they reached the spot, Jeonghan spread the blanket out on the grass, smoothing it down with deliberate care.

They both sat down, the sound of the river lapping softly against the shore filling the space between them. Overhead, the sky was clear, stars scattered like tiny diamonds, and the moon hung low and luminous, casting its glow over the water.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, side by side, watching the river and the sky in a silence that felt heavier than the one in the car.

Finally, Jeonghan broke it.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here together,�� he said, his voice low but carrying over the stillness of the night. He glanced sideways at her. “You still come here often?”

Luna turned to him, slightly taken aback by his casual tone. She studied his profile for a moment before answering. “Not as much lately,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “It hasn’t felt… the same.”

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on the river. “Yeah. I know.” He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips as a memory surfaced. He chuckled lightly, the sound breaking through the somber air. “Remember the last time? You were mad at me because I forgot your coffee order, and you swore you’d never trust me with your drinks again.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. That smile sent a jolt straight to Jeonghan’s heart. She hadn’t smiled at him like that in so long. And he had made it happen. He had.

“You brought me iced coffee in the middle of winter, Han,” she replied dryly, her tone tinged with amusement. “You’re lucky I didn’t throw it at you.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his smile widening as he looked at her. “Right. And then you made me drink it as punishment.”

“I did,” she said with a small nod, her gaze drifting back to the moon.

A brief silence fell over them again, but this one felt different. It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but it carried the weight of all the things left unsaid.

Jeonghan shifted slightly, the grass crunching softly beneath him, and his tone grew quieter when he spoke again.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to come with me,” he admitted, his eyes trained on her face now.

Luna sighed softly, her shoulders rising and falling. “I almost didn’t.”

Her words made his chest tighten, but he turned to face her fully. “I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice earnest. “I’ve missed you. I missed us… Jiyeon-ah, I—”

“Please,” Luna interrupted with a soft sigh, shaking her head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

Jeonghan frowned slightly, his brows drawing together. “No, you’re right,” he said after a moment, his tone steady. “I don’t have to apologize… I need to apologize.”

He met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. “I’m sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For that night… for lying that night.”

Luna looked away before he could continue, her voice low as she said, “Are you sorry because you hurt me, or is it because you don’t feel the same about me?” Her voice softened even further, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she continued. “Han, I forgave you already that night in the elevator. I was hurt, yes, but I understood. I just needed space. I never blamed you for not liking—”

“Ya… Bae Jiyeon, stop. Just stop.” Jeonghan’s voice was firm now, his tone cutting her off sharply. He turned to her fully, his eyes blazing with frustration and something else—something deeper. “First of all, stop saying I don’t like you. That’s not true. Not even in the slightest. And stop it with the calm, good girl act you force yourself to be. I know you more than anyone. I need you to be angry. Be angry at me. Yell at me. Fuck, slap me in the face for hurting you and making you cry! Don’t pretend you’re okay, because I know damn well you’re not!”

Luna’s head snapped up, her eyes locking with his for more than a few seconds, truly and deeply looking at him for the first time since they had caught each other outside their apartments earlier. Her eyes were red, tears welling up and threatening to spill over.

Jeonghan read her like an open book, every emotion she had tried so desperately to hide laid bare before him. And he knew— he knew— that she was lying to herself, trying to shove everything under the rug and pretend it didn’t matter.

But it did.

And it was hurting her.

Jeonghan’s heart clenched as he watched her, knowing this moment was long overdue.

Luna had been bottling up her pain for far too long.

She needed to let it out— now.

Luna’s hands trembled as she clenched them into fists at her sides, her entire body taut with the emotions she had suppressed for so long. For a brief moment, Jeonghan thought she might hold it in again, that she’d swallow the words she desperately needed to say and give him the same composed facade she always wore.

But then, her lips parted, and the dam broke.

“You want me mad?” Luna’s voice came out sharp, her tone cutting through the stillness like a blade. “You want me to scream and cry? You want me to tell you the truth? Fine!” Her voice rose, trembling slightly as her emotions began spilling out. “What do you want me to say, huh, Jeonghan? Do you want me to tell you how you’ve had me wrapped around your stupid finger since the fucking beginning?”

Jeonghan’s breath caught, but he stayed silent, letting her continue.

“Do you want me to tell you how the second you introduced yourself to me, I knew— I knew— that I needed you in my life? How every single night, I beat myself up trying to forget about my feelings for you because I couldn’t risk it? I couldn’t risk our friendship, the group, our careers, the guys’ careers! Do you want me to tell you how my heart hurts— no, how it shatters— every time you get linked with someone else, rumored with women you barely even know? And do you know what’s worse? I have no right to feel that way! None! Yet… fuck! I still do!”

Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward, her words gaining momentum as tears began to glisten in her eyes.

“Do you want to know how I cried to my mom on the phone, begging her to help me like I was a child because my heart wouldn’t stop pounding after you kissed me on the cheek for the first time when we were trainees? A stupid, innocent kiss! It was nothing to you, but it meant everything to me!”

Jeonghan’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest, guilt twisting like a knife as her voice started to tremble.

“Do you want me to tell you how much you make me feel? How much I love the way you make me feel so special, so loved, so pretty? And how much I hate it? How much I hate how I love it, because it’s you! It you, Yoon Jeonghan! It’s you who makes me feel like that, and it’s you who made me feel like I was nothing that night!”

Her voice broke, and the tears finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. She wiped at them furiously, but it was no use— they just kept coming.

“I cried myself to sleep on the floor of my apartment after you rejected me,” she admitted, her voice now raw and unsteady, her breath hitching between words. “The floor, Jeonghan. I couldn’t even make it to my bed because I thought I’d suffocate under the weight of it all.”

Jeonghan’s throat tightened, his hands curling into fists in his lap as he fought the urge to reach out to her, to stop the flood of her pain even though he knew she needed this.

“And do you want to know the worst part?” Luna’s voice dropped to a whisper, trembling with the weight of her confession. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes glistening with tears that reflected the moonlight.

“I hate how much I love you.” Her voice broke completely, and she sobbed openly now, the sound raw and anguished. “I hate it, Jeonghan. I hate how much I love you, and I hate how much it hurts to love you.”

Jeonghan couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Jiyeon—”

“No!” she cut him off, her voice rising again despite her tears. “You wanted this, right? You told me to let it out, so here it is! Here’s the truth, Yoon Jeonghan! I love you, and I hate you for making me love you this much! So much that it physically hurts me! Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you—”

Before she could finish, Jeonghan surged forward, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame and pulling her tightly into his chest.

Luna struggled against him, her fists pounding weakly against his chest as she sobbed, her frustration spilling over in the form of muffled cries and anger. “Let go of me! Let me go, Jeonghan!” she cried, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I don’t want— just let me—”

“No,” Jeonghan said firmly, his voice low but steady. He held her tighter, refusing to let her go no matter how much she fought him. “I’m not letting you go, Bae Jiyeon. Not now. Not ever.”

Luna’s struggles slowed, her fists unclenching as she slumped against him, her sobs shaking her entire body. “I hate you. I hate how much I love you,” she whispered brokenly, her words muffled against his chest.

Jeonghan squeezed his eyes shut, his chin resting lightly atop her head as he struggled to keep his composure. His own voice trembled when he spoke, filled with the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “I’m sorry, my moon. I’m so sorry.”

Luna’s cries quieted into broken hiccups as her face remained buried in Jeonghan’s chest, her tears soaking into his shirt as the weight of her pain finally found its release. Her fists, now slack against his shirt, clutched weakly at the fabric as her shoulders trembled. She mumbled against him, her voice muffled yet still laden with hurt.

“You made me feel like I was stupid for even trying,” she whispered, her words cracking under the weight of her emotions. Her chest heaved as she struggled to steady her breath, but her next words came out shakier, weaker. “Like I was crazy for thinking… for hoping…”

A sharp hiccup cut her off, and she dissolved into tears again. Jeonghan’s hand instinctively cradled the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair in an attempt to soothe her. He sighed deeply, the sound heavy with guilt and sorrow, before murmuring gently, “I know. I know, angel. And I hate myself for it.”

His voice wavered, but he kept his tone steady for her. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do with how I felt—”

Before he could finish, Luna abruptly pushed herself out of his grip, her hands pressing against his chest until she could create enough distance between them. Her eyes met his, wide and glistening with tears, her cheeks flushed from crying. The vulnerability in her gaze was quickly overtaken by anger, sharp and raw.

“How you felt?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Han, this wasn’t just about you. It’s about me too—about us. Do you even know what it’s like to pour your heart out to someone you’ve loved for years only to have them look at you like it’s all a mistake?”

Her words hit Jeonghan like a slap, and he instinctively shook his head, the motion frantic as if it could erase the idea entirely. “No,” he said quickly, his voice firm yet pleading. “No, Jiyeon. You were never a mistake. I need you to believe that. Please.”

Luna’s lips quivered, her glare unwavering despite the fresh wave of tears brimming in her eyes.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, his own voice trembling as he continued. “I was an idiot. I am an idiot,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging as the truth spilled out of him like a confession. “I… I was scared because you mean so much to me. I told myself it would ruin everything if we tried and failed. I kept convincing myself it was better this way, safer, for both of us. I told myself all these excuses why it wouldn’t work— why I shouldn’t feel the way I feel. But they were just that… excuses. I was a coward, okay? I let my fear control me. And because of that, I hurt you. I hurt us.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked at her with desperate, searching eyes, as if silently begging her to understand.

Luna stared at him for a long moment, her expression etched with a mixture of disbelief and pain. Finally, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think it didn’t terrify me too?”

Jeonghan froze, his breath hitching as she spoke, her voice growing stronger with each word.

“But I still chose to try. Yes I was drunk when i confessed but I never denied it afterwards. I could’ve acted like I didn’t remember what I said but I didn’t,” she continued, her voice breaking again as tears spilled over her lashes. “Because… because loving you felt worth the risk.”

Jeonghan felt his heart shatter at her words, the weight of her pain crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her wet cheeks as he tried to catch the tears that kept falling.

“You’re braver than me,” he said softly, his voice full of admiration and regret. “You always have been.”

Luna shook her head furiously, her chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. Her hands came up to grip his wrists as if to push him away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I don’t feel brave, Hannie,” she hiccuped, her voice barely audible. “I feel broken.”

Her words tore through Jeonghan like a knife, and he could feel his composure slipping as she finished, her voice raw and trembling.

“You broke me,” she said, her lips quivering as another tear slid down her cheek. “And it hurts.”

Jeonghan froze as her trembling words struck him like a blow. Her tear-streaked face, her voice breaking with pain— every part of her screamed of the hurt he’d caused, and it was unbearable.

Jeonghan shook his head, his voice low but steady, desperate to reach her. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it if you’ll let me,” he said, his hands firm yet gentle on her arms. “I’ll undo all the words that hurt you. Just tell me how.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her voice sharp and trembling as she shot back, “What good are words when they always just get in our way, Han?”

Her challenge hung in the air, raw and heavy, but Jeonghan didn’t falter. His brows furrowed as his dark eyes bore into hers, soft yet resolute.

“Because words matter,” he countered firmly, his voice calm and measured. “Words are what brought us to this moment. I said the wrong ones before, but I won’t stop trying until I say the right ones. I can’t give up, Bae Jiyeon. Not on you.”

Her tears continued to fall, and Jeonghan reached forward, brushing the strands of hair that clung to her damp cheeks. His fingers moved slowly, tenderly, as though she were something fragile and sacred. His hands found her face, cradling it, urging her to look up at him even as her gaze flickered uncertainly.

“Show me, my moon,” he whispered, his voice quiet yet pleading, the nickname like a soft caress. “Show me where I hurt you so that I can love you there the most.”

The words were spoken with such raw sincerity, such desperation, that they seemed to wrap around Luna’s heart and squeeze. She released a shaky breath, her eyes fluttering closed as a tear slipped free and traced a path down her cheek.

Her heart— shattered as it was— still managed to beat for him.

It always had.

It always would.

And that scared her more than anything.

“You don’t get to just say that now,” Luna said shakily, her voice cracking as she shook her head, trying to pull away but finding herself unable to. “You don’t get to show up and say everything I’ve been dying to hear after you crushed me.”

Her walls were still up, fragile but standing, and Jeonghan could see her fear, her need to protect herself. But he wasn’t going to let her go. Not this time.

“I told the moon about you, Jiyeonie,” he murmured softly, and the words made her freeze.

Luna let out a broken sob as her head dropped onto his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her close as she cried, his hand stroking her back in soothing circles.

“I told the moon about how I wanted to dedicate a song to you after I met you for the first time,” he continued, his voice trembling but unwavering. “I told the moon about how your laugh feels like the answer to every question I didn’t know I was asking. About how you hum to yourself when you think no one is listening, and it’s my favorite sound in the world.”

He gently pulled her head off his shoulder, his hands finding their way to her face again, cupping it as he cradled her, his thumbs brushing away her tears. Her red-rimmed eyes stared into his, her lips trembling as he spoke.

“I told the moon about the way your nose scrunches up when you’re concentrating. About how you never finish a cup of tea but insist on making it anyway because the ritual calms you. I told the moon how you bite your lip when you’re nervous and how it drives me crazy because I want to kiss you every time you do it.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her tears spilling over again as she listened, her heart simultaneously breaking and healing with every word.

“I told the moon about my regrets,” Jeonghan admitted, his voice cracking. “About every time I hurt you, every time I held back because I was too scared to face what I was feeling. I told the moon about how it’s just the hardest thing to love you but not know how. So I spent all my nights in the dark, afraid. Afraid because I tried to forget you, but these things— you— just don’t go away.”

His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. “I hate that you’re so perfect,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest, saddest smile. “So perfect for me… made for me.”

Luna closed her eyes as a fresh wave of tears escaped, her hands coming up to grip his wrists, holding onto him as though she might crumble without the contact.

“The excuses I gave you… none of them mattered,” Jeonghan continued, his voice steadying as he poured his heart out. “Because the truth is, Nana-ya, I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I can even admit to myself.”

His hands slipped from her face to rest on her shoulders as he leaned closer, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that made her chest tighten. “I love the way you brighten every room you walk into. I love the way you care for the people around you, how you give so much of yourself even when you have nothing left to give. I love the way you see the world, how you find beauty in places no one else would even think to look.”

He paused, his gaze softening as he added, “I love you, Bae Jiyeon. All of you. The good, the bad, the messy, the beautiful. I love you more than words can ever say, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you, if you’ll let me.”

Luna’s tears fell freely now, her breath hitching as her hands clutched at his shirt, grounding herself in him. Her walls, the ones she’d fought so hard to keep up, began to crumble, piece by piece, under the weight of his love.

Jeonghan’s voice broke as he continued, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone like he was trying to erase the pain he had caused. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know the truth. I pushed you away because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t going to mess up. But the truth is… the thought of losing you terrified me more than anything else.”

Luna’s breath hitched, her voice trembling as she whispered, “And yet, you still let me go.”

Her eyes opened, glistening with unshed tears as she searched his face, her expression filled with a mixture of heartbreak and disbelief.

Jeonghan swallowed hard, shaking his head almost frantically. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, okay? I thought I was protecting us, but all I did was hurt you. I can’t take that back, but I can promise you that I’ll never make that mistake again.”

She closed her eyes briefly, her shoulders sagging as though the weight of the past months bore down on her all at once. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I spent so much time these past couple of months convincing myself that maybe… maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

Jeonghan’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he stared at her, shaking his head with conviction. His voice was firm, urgent, as if he could will her to believe him. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that, Jiyeon-ah. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it for me. I was just too blind to see it in time.”

He reached for her hands, holding them tightly between his own as his voice softened but lost none of its determination. “Please… please don’t give up on us. Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that I’m not going to hurt you again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Jiyeonie. I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll fight for us, for you, for our friendship. Just… just don’t shut me out.”

Luna’s fingers trembled as they wrapped around his wrist, her grip weak but steadying as she brought his hand down from her face and held it in her lap. Her voice was soft but resolute, her gaze piercing as she finally met his eyes. “You can’t just fix this overnight, Han. We can’t go back to how things were. If we’re going to try again… we need to fix our friendship first. We were friends first. We need to rebuild what broke before anything else.”

Her words hung in the air between them, weighted with truth and the hope of something new. Jeonghan nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as he absorbed her words.

Despite the desperation in his heart to hold her close and never let go, he knew she was right.

“I know we can’t go back to the way we were,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. “And I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward— with you. I’ll be better. We’ll be better. I’ll start wherever you need me to. As friends, as strangers— just tell me how to fix this. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I’ll earn your trust back, your love, everything. Just… don’t give up on me.”

Luna exhaled a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as her gaze softened. “I’m not giving up on you. I never gave up on you. But this time, it’s going to be on my terms.”

Jeonghan’s lips parted, and he nodded without hesitation, his sincerity clear in every word he spoke. “Your terms, always. I’ll wait. I’ll work for it. Just… thank you for giving me the chance to make this right.”

Luna’s lips curved into a faint, tired smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as she spoke, her voice lighter than before, though still tinged with lingering sadness. “Well, the heart wants what it wants.”

Jeonghan’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, his expression one of reverence, like she was the moon and the stars shining down on them, lighting his path. “It does. And mine wants you. Always has, always will.”

He spoke the words with such quiet certainty, his gaze never wavering from hers.

In that moment, the air around them felt still, as though the universe itself had paused to bear witness to the weight of their emotions, the unspoken promises lingering in the space between their hearts.

Jeonghan gently pulled away from Luna, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin. His lips curved into a teasing smile, the kind that used to infuriate her and had always held the power to disarm her. “I can’t wait to tell the little boy,” he said, his tone light and mischievous.

Luna blinked at him, her brows furrowing in confusion. “What little boy?” she asked, her voice laced with equal parts exasperation and bewilderment.

“The little boy fishing on the moon. The man in the moon, remember?” Jeonghan replied, his grin widening as he referenced the conversation they’d had years ago at the Han River during one of their first late-night talks as trainees.

Luna’s jaw slackened slightly before she snapped it shut, shaking her head. “That’s not– He’s not–” She let out a breath, her shoulders sagging in mock defeat. “You’re an idiot.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, the sound rich and familiar, like a song she hadn’t realized she missed. “I know. We’ve been through this,” he said, the humor in his tone softening into affection as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She didn’t move away, didn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes fluttered shut, savoring the moment before she opened them again and met his gaze.

Despite the magnetic pull between them, the kind that had always existed and only seemed stronger now, they both knew the truth.

They couldn’t rush this, not yet.

The more mature parts of themselves— the ones hardened by heartbreak and regret— understood the importance of rebuilding the foundation of their relationship.

Their friendship was the cornerstone of everything they were to each other, and if they wanted to build something lasting, something unshakable, they had to fix what had been broken first.

Neither of them wanted to wait.

They wanted to dive into each other’s arms, to silence the ache with whispered promises and stolen kisses. But they respected the process, respected each other too much to risk repeating their mistakes.

They had taken the first step tonight, had opened the door to healing by airing their frustrations, their fears, and their truths.

Luna had cried until her chest ached, and Jeonghan had been there to hold her. Jeonghan had confessed his regrets, his love, his hopes, and Luna had listened, her presence steady even as her tears fell. They had yelled, voices raised as years of pent-up emotions spilled out, but even in their anger, there had been a yearning to understand.

They were in love.

That much was clear to both of them now.

But love alone wouldn’t be enough if they didn’t have a solid foundation to stand on.

So, Jeonghan promised to work for it, to make it worth it.

Luna promised to trust the process and let him prove himself.

Even so, in the quiet recesses of their hearts, they both knew that it was only a matter of time before the fire between them ignited even more, before the spark that had always been there became impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t a question of if they would cross that line, but when.

And they both felt, deep down, that the moment would come soon.

The universe, it seemed, had been on their side all along.

The anxiety that had drowned Luna earlier in suffocating waves, the restlessness that had driven her to the Han River in search of solace, had carried her back to her island— Jeonghan.

And Jeonghan, who had sought to talk to the moon to share his frustrations and to make sense of the ache in his chest, had found himself drawn by gravity to his moon— Luna.

As they sat there in the stillness of the night, the city lights twinkling like distant stars, Jeonghan reached for her hand once more, and this time, she didn’t hesitate to take it. Their fingers intertwined, and though the path ahead was uncertain, the warmth in their joined hands was a promise.

Together, they would find their way.

They always do.

For the tides, ruled by the moon, carried Luna from the depths to the island of Jeonghan’s soul.

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hyukaslvr · 11 months ago

Text

strong enough | j. jungkook (1)

< series masterlist

paring: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook

w.c: TBD

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

Jungkook didn’t need to prove to you that he was able to live by himself on his own without you, he wanted to. so for the past 7 months, he’s been taking care of himself in every way he felt he needed you to help him with.

he didn’t do it just for you though, he did it for his life. he was dependent on you, for all of his feelings and to make sure he did the tasks he needed to do. he made sure to watch himself and watch how he acts, he made sure to try his best to take care of himself, sometimes he wanted to text you that it was easy, a piece of cake he would even say.

but since you were here anymore, for the last 6 months, he’d been on his own and doing things on his own. better than he expected too, he expected himself the next week after you tore him apart that he’d be right back at your doorsteps, begging you take him back.

but he didn’t, he stayed strong, and truly believed if you loved him, you would come back. eventually. but he couldn’t wait for you any longer. he couldn’t just sit around and be unmotivated hoping you would come back soon. so he stood his ground, worked out every morning and night, the endless punches against his punching bag echoed in his empty house, the house you used to fill the empty void for.

for now, he blocked you on everything, avoids the events your group is invited to, and makes sure he doesn’t do afterparties; that’s how he met you, mama 2018, an after party somewhere at someone’s house, not that he cared at the moment, he just wanted to get wasted. he met you, standing there, looking around and watching your members have the time of their lives when all you wanted to do was drink off your mood. jungkook saw right through you, feeling the same way he did as of currently, watching his older members laugh and make conversations with other idols.

now that he thinks about it, you both needed help, or didn’t need each other at the moment. he wanted it to work, knowing the consequences of two mentally unstable people in a relationship, he wanted to change you for the better. he didn’t want to change you completely, but the way you felt about life; how you would tell him that you didn’t see a future for yourself, that you just wanted to live but not actually live, but to disappear and not die. so he nods, agreeing in his head that everything happened between you two was for the better, staring wide at his shiny black shoes on the platform below them. he needs to stop thinking about things before he gets on stage, to perform in front of every idol possible to win an award tonight.

he sighs though, his thoughts were taking over his mind again about all the could ofs and would ofs, but he took deep breaths and turned to his older to make sure everything was fine, to get some sort of comfort through the others eyes.

hoseok, one of the older members of his group and the one he came to when you broke up with him, nods with a tight smile on his face, giving Jungkook that type of relief he needed; hoseok was there when you weren’t, he took care of him like the good person he is. Jungkook doesn’t blame you though, he would get away from him too. he doesn’t hate you either, he never will.

screams could be heard behind the sounds in his ears, the constant clicking to make sure he’s on beat. he needed to perform well he thought to himself. his habit of tapping his fingers against each other showing once again, a habit he told himself he would get rid of. again, looking at his hoseok, smiling at his older who looks born to be on the stage before letting the platform below his feet rise up to level with the stage.

the arena screams, the lights become dark as beams of blinding light shown down on the members, and it takes a minute for your eyes to register to realize its bangtan. your eyes searched, you didn’t want them to search but they did on their own. they landed right on him, Jungkook, the love of your life you would like to say.

sometimes you reach your phone to text him, to tell him this stupid idea you had for a song, or a photo of something that reminded you of him. you have to remind yourself everyday that you can’t check your messages, his good mornings won’t be there any longer. you have to keep remembering that you can’t just call him after practices to come pick you up because you hate the idea of being alone with your manager in the car. but then you realize, you ruined things.

you had this “perfect relationship”, you had everything you wanted, the person you wanted for so long before becoming an idol. but, you soon realized it was wrong, and you were both not well. especially you, not just him. the way you acting towards each other during the rough times when you should of been helping each other shows, you see other couples when they are sad and how they help each other, yet you couldn’t with him. you’ve never been super into comforting people, so seeing him the way he was, made you mad. it was an indescribable feeling that you can’t even explain, it felt like a competition against who feels the worst about their lives and who had it the hardest. so when one of you talked about your feelings, it would start an argument, one that led to sleeping in different rooms and one that led to not waking up to Jungkook’s cooking.

you hate thinking about it, but when you think of him, you don’t think of the good times. you think of how you made him cry, forgetting to tell him that you were the one who was hurting the worst, not that he was a mess or how you felt like you couldn’t take care of him . it just came out, heat of the moment you like to say, but you know you’re in the wrong, you know that you should of helped him when he physically couldn’t breathe without you comforting him in some sort of way.

“it’s like you can’t live without me,” you say, your feet killing you from a day event with your group, sitting down on the couch next to him while you rub the pain out of your feet, not realizing your words towards him.

“what does that mean?” he was already in tears, his voice shaking as his throat closing from crying and gasping, “i- i called you because i need help, ______, i don’t know-”

“Jungkook, you never let me in,” you sigh, staring back at the silent man, and that’s when you froze. you forgot your words, your mind going blank, the reason you were even there, “i mean, i want you to talk to me- i don’t even know what’s going on, how can i even help?” you kept spitting out worse comments, his poor heart couldn’t handle it, and you couldn’t handle it.

“i can’t explain it- i can’t breathe, i- i don’t know what’s going on-” you cut him off in a blink, pulling his head into your chest and tugging your fingers in his hair hoping for the best, just for his arms to wrap around you as his breathing becomes quicker, the sobs getting louder.

he didn’t know who else to call, knowing you both can’t be seen in public together, but he didn’t know how else to calm down.

“i’m here, Jungkook, i always will be, but i think we need to stop,”

he looks taller, slimmer, maybe more muscular? you think as you bite your lips hoping for it to bleed a little before you stop. you never liked watching him from a distance, it reminded you a bit of your childhood crushes which you hated the thought of those. you watched him sync with the other members smoothly and perfectly, his voice perfect as ever and hitting the notes perfectly to your ears. you smile, forgetting the memory you got, and watching him proudly.

he’s living without you, hopefully dealing with things with out you. you should be happy, right? you rub your sweaty palms on your blanket, the room felt like it was closing in on you, feeling as if him and you were the only people in the whole arena. you miss him, the way things used to be, the way you used to be, but things are different now. without even realizing the performance was over, you clap along with the others as the noise of palms smacking rings in your ears. you definitely miss him.

you should not be smiling right now, Jungkook thinks, now standing a little bit behind your group as you win the award you were nominated for. but you should, he should be happy that you guys got another win, with the song that gave you a headache everytime he mentioned how well it was going to be for your group. but you shouldn’t in his heart, not when he’s standing feet away from you, when you’re standing feet away from the one person you should be with and not distancing from.

Jungkook wonders, does your heart pound around him like his does? how it feels like it running around in circles like it’s winning a marathon, pounding practically out of his chest every time he breathes in, it hurts when he looks at you.

he wishes to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling when your leader lets you hold the award as she performs her speech for the crowd. he wants to know how the award feels in your hands as you grip it tightly, maybe you feel his presence after all when his eyes dart to your hands shaking.

he told himself no more after parties, no more of you and events with you possibly being there. but you looked so pretty, he couldn’t help it. the way your makeup looked like it was your skin, the glitter in the corner of your eyes making them pop out more. he could just leave with yoongi whenever, knowing he wouldn’t want to be there for long anyways, he would rather be alone after such a long event.

did he miss you too? you thought, rubbing your thumb against the plastic cup in your tight grib, sipping on the drink as your members talk to another and other idols. you glance at him every now and then, not that you cared he was there. definitely not the reason why you were here, not hoping he would be here also.

you sigh in thought, he doesn’t even look like he wants to be here, and you know he doesn’t by the way his eyebrows furrow at a obvious drunk idol passing by and saying hello to him. you sighed again, loudly supposably as yerin glares at you.

“just go talk to him already,”

“talk? talk to who? i don’t know who you’re talking about,” you play it off as you were confused, you couldn’t let her know. it made her glare more deadly and more hard to ignore, you wanted to rip your hair our right about then.

“Jungkook, he’s been looking at you all night too, you know?”

“he has?” you quickly question, realizing she tricked you into saying who it is, kinda. “i mean, what are you talking about-”

“i know, ______, just go. i know how badly you want to make it up with him.” she knows, you glup hard as she tilts her head aggressively towards his figure. it’s not that you didn’t want to make it up to him, it that’s you felt like you couldn’t. you were so trapped in your own mind to find the motivation to help his needs and necessities in your relationship.

Jungkook tried to not look at you a lot, making sure the cup in his hand and the loud laughter around him was distracting him enough to take his eyes away from you. when he felt like something was off, he glanced at you, but when he did, you were gone.

knowing Jungkook, you purposely left and went outside, sitting and watching the stars glisten in your naked eye, the music booming loudly behind you. you knew he would come finding you soon, knowing something was wrong if you were gone away from your group for awhile. Jungkook knows you from the back of his palm, you were together for almost 5 years.

when Jungkook did, he finds you sitting right on the cold to touch balcony, your head already turnt to look at him. you find it crazy, how good he looks just standing there out of breath searching for you, in the flickering porch light. he was just standing there with his eyes widened of you waiting for him, yet he was always still pretty no matter the emotions displayed on his face.

his eyes follow yours, searching them to find the reason to your disappearance, all while you start to stand up and turn your whole body towards him before speaking. you weren’t planning anything, what you were going to say to him and how you were going to even look him in the eyes. you just had to stay strong, looking deeply into his as you spoke what was replaying on your mind.

“do you miss me like i miss you?”

“you have no idea, _____,”

the wind blowing harshly against your already prickled skin didn’t bother you, the cold night tingling goosebumps on your arms even with Jungkook’s jacket over your shoulders, giving you the slightest bit of warmth. you had no clue how you ended up here, the car ride being a daze and being in the closest you’ve been to Jungkook in months had you biting your tongue to see if things were actually happening.

‘do you want to talk?’

‘i always want to talk to you, Jungkook,’

‘let’s get you out of here then, yeah?’

the park was silently decided between the two of you, sitting on an empty bench as you watched the clouds blissfully cover the moon every other second. the silence that took over the two of you sat comfortably, but so uncomfortable at the same time that it was starting to hurt your airways. there’s so much to be said but you both haven’t spoken up since you’ve gotten there.

you sigh, it was hard to do, to see him again and all was amazing, you always missed him and hearing his voice, hearing the way he said your name. you were so in love with him that you couldn’t pull yourself away. you felt trapped, in a good way, but not in the way you needed at the moment. you just wanted him, but you felt like everything in your life now was dependent on him. you needed him, he knew you, he knew how to help you.

it sucked that you felt like you only ever needed him in your life, only trying for him, only doing good performing for him, only ever speaking to him, only surrounding yourself with him, he was everywhere. any time you needed Jungkook, he was always there, in some shape or form. speaking or not, he wanted to help you and be there for you, not realizing it wasn’t helping your unhappiness and depression but making you feel worse about how he had to take care of you like a baby. you were trying so hard to get better only to realize that you weren’t doing it for yourself, you were doing it for Jungkook. Jungkook and Jungkook only.

“i really think we should talk, Jungkook-”

“you know, i really miss hearing you talk. i don’t know how you’re doing but i would personally like to know,” it shocked you, he never usually wanted to talk about personal things or pressured you to talk about how you’re doing on top of everything he already knew. Jungkook knew that there was a reason he didn’t know much because that’s just how you are. he loves you, and looking at you right now feels so right in his heart. he knew for awhile that you were the one for him, he wasn’t going to lose you that easily.

“Jungkook, we can’t be doin-”

“i get it,” he waves you off, obviously on the verge of tears because you couldn’t handle speaking to him at all. you’ve done this many times, tried to remove him from your life completely. but you always manage to come back, saying things along the lines of ‘we can’t be doing this,’ or ‘we shouldn’t do this, Jungkook,’. he will always scared that you’ll actually never come back so he takes these talks very seriously.

“no, Jungkook, you don’t,” you sigh once again, youre never able to put what you want to say into words, they come out wrong or rude or not true. there was so much you wanted to say. how could you say it in the easiest but nicest way possible without sobbing? you don’t dare to look at him just yet because you know you’ll fold immediately and run back to him. but you stood your ground, turned your head towards him and made complete contact while you spoke, “we can’t keep doing this, talking when we miss each other. i’ll never get better- you’ll never get better if we keep this loop going on. i love you, Jungkook,” you reached for his face, wiping the tears that started pouring as soon as you looked at him, “you’re forever my number one, i’ll do anything for you even it’s letting you go so you can focus on yourself and your career, you know i’m not any better than you,”

at this point he knew he looked pathetic, sobbing in to your palms are you talked about how much you both needed this when all he felt like was that leaving you is the worst thing to ever happen to him, he felt like he was suffocating with the truth. you loved him, he should be happy, but why are you leaving? you’re leaving him once again just for him to go through the same process all over again. he would drink, party every weekend, over sleep, have bad practices and messing up everything with his dancing. you tear him apart, every damn time.

he was more mad than upset, what did you leaving have anything with him if you loved him? you don’t love him, he thought, his eyes now furrowing at you and slowly tearing his face away from your hands rubbing his face.

“Kook, i’m sorry it has to be this-” but all he can do is just snort, raising to walk away, drive away before he starts to kiss you to make you shut up about getting better. you are never fair, you knew that by the look in your eyes as if your heart just got shattered when all you keep doing is tear his heart apart. he wanted to roll his eyes, you didn’t care about his feelings until he started crying and begging for you to even talk to him.

“come back to me when you’re ready, this could easily be talked about and fixed but you never let me in, claiming i never let you in but here i am, bawling my eyes out to you because you can’t stop leaving me,” he started walking back towards you, his feet wide causing his things to spread your legs apart.

you gasped as he leaned low, leveling his face in front of yours, you felt like you couldn’t breathe when he goes to speak, “you can’t just keep coming back to me when you feel like it, either fix your shit or decide if you want to stay with my messy self. we both know you’re just as fucking messy.”

ouch.

A/N: ouch is definitely the word for this chapter! reminder that this will have a happy ending i promise ( :c ) and this will definitely be a very slow slow burn. i had so much fun writing this and im so thankful for all the support you guys have been giving me, i really do think this series will do well and i really hope it will! reblogs are always more helpful than notes!

(COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST FOR NEXT CHAPTER OR WHOLE SERIES)

tags: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @yunholuv @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor

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orphicdreamers-wp · 1 year ago

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When You Know You Know — Quinn Hughes

Summary; In which you, Quinn and your loved ones recount the early days of your relationship

Content Warning: wedding ceremony inaccuracies, fluff

You laughed into your palms as Jack took the microphone and grinned sheepishly, “Hey guys! I’m Jack, the cooler of Quinn’s brothers.” You turned to your husband, “How bad are we expecting this to turn out?” Quinn laughed, “Almost as bad as Trevor standing up after the minister said ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ and saying ‘don’t nobody say nothing’.” Jack grinned as you turned to face you and his brother, “I have one text from a Quinn Hughes, dated December 9th 2018. Jack no joke, I just met my wife. She’s perfect.”

Jack turned to face your wedding guests, “It should be noted that the first two weeks of December that year there was a horrendous snow storm in Vancouver so I initially didn’t believe him. Until he FaceTimed me the next day trekking through the snow holding a bouquet of lavenders that was bigger than his head, which is ideally a huge thing of flowers. He told me he was going to meet a girl for dinner. He called me again the next day, this time he was demanding to speak to our mom to learn how to make pasta as he was having someone over for dinner.”

Jack’s story earned laughs from the guests. Jack smiled at you and Quinn as he continued, “This continued through the remainder of December and the majority of January. It was nearing a month he’d been needing dating advice. So he called me once again trekking through the snow, but that time he wasn’t alone.” Jack turned to face you with a smile, “I was complaining about whatever stupid crap a 17 year old boy would. And then I saw Quinn get pelted in the face with a snowball. Then I heard Y/N squeal as she and Quinn ran through the snow covered streets of Vancouver throwing snowballs at each other and giggling.”

You laughed softly as you melted into your husbands side into a warm embrace, “I quickly learned that Y/N was perfect for my brother which was unexpected because Y/N is classy, kind and beautiful and Quinn is not. But after meeting her I have never had to question or wonder if my brother made the right choice. Because from the moment I met her, Y/N has shown nothing but grace, love and support for not just Quinn but my entire family. I could not be more proud to say, welcome to the family sis.” Your eyes welled with tears as you stood to go hug Jack, “I always wanted a little brother to annoy.” Jack smiled as he hugged you, “I always wanted a sister.”

You returned to your seat next to your husband as your best friend, Gracie stood up with the microphone, “I hold here a hot pink notebook sheet of paper dated April 13th 2006, it reads ‘GG I have a secret. I have to tell someone so your my friend now that I told you. Mrs Tkachuck’s son is cute. He is always skating at recess. I think he has really nice hair, maybe my husband will too. Anyways I got peanut butter sandwiches for lunch what did you get?’ This was the first note I ever received.”

You covered your face with your hands as you heard your husband whisper, “Please tell me it wasn’t Brady.” You laughed as Gracie continued, “The boy in the note did have really nice hair. Matthew Tkachuck everyone. That note would be seen as two 7 year old girls agreeing that a 9 year old was cute and bonding over lunch. But for me that singular note written in real glitter pen by the 7 year old who had no friends because she didn’t let anyone say anything mean to her. You, Y/N changed my life at just 7 years old.”

Quinn squeezed your hand reassuringly as you blinked back soft tears as Gracie continued, “You wouldn’t know this, because I never told you. But on Friendsgiving in 2018, when I pulled the longer side of the wishbone. I wished for you to find someone who would alter your life the way you altered mine. And then 13 days later I got a voicemail from you at 3 am. You had claimed you found the love of your life and his name was win. I unanimously decided that his name probably wasn’t actually win but more likely Quinn.”

You felt your gaze soften as Quinn pressed a kiss to your temple as your best friend finished her speech, “To my beautiful, perfect, amazing and wonderful best friend. To the rest of your life with a guy who treks through the snow a day after meeting you. PS your husband did end up having good hair.” You and Quinn erupted into soft giggles as you looked at each other. You smiled up at Quinn, “I so would have written love notes to you in teal glitter pens.” Quinn laughed, “I would trek through a million snowstorms to bring you flowers.”

You melted into a kiss as your mother in law took the stage, “My biggest baby. In your entire life I have only seen you love three things. Your family, hockey and the beautiful woman that is sitting next to you. And none of those things are in order. From the moment I met Y/N it was clear to me that you loved her more than anything else in the world. It’s in the eyes. You, Quinn Hughes have very telling eyes. I could tell by your eyes when you pushed Jack face first down a slide when you were 5 and he was 3. I knew from the look in your eyes the first time you snuck out. And I knew when I saw your eyes light up when Y/N offered to take Jack and Luke to hockey practice so me and your father could have a break.”

Ellen continued as she smiled at you, “I knew that you were long gone, there was no coming back. You were head over heels for her and honestly I think I was a little bit as well. For as long as I remember you and your brothers never liked each others friends or associates. Don’t get me started on girlfriends. But Jack and Luke came home and would not shut up about how much they liked Y/N. I knew then that she was perfect for you and she fit like a missing puzzle piece of our family. So it didn’t come as a shock to me when you called me less than a year later asking me to help you pick out engagement rings.”

Your jaw dropped, you hadn’t known that Quinn had thought about marrying you so quickly. Ellen smiled at you and her eldest son, “To my beautiful son and his even more beautiful wife. Watching you two navigate life together has been one of the most gracious gifts I’ve ever received.” You smiled warmly at your mother in law as you rested your head on your husbands shoulder, “So I’m picking up on the fact that apparently everyone around us including us knew from the beginning of our relationship that we’d end up here. Is it just me?” Quinn kissed your cheek, “Nope, definitely not just you.”

#hockey player x reader #fanfic #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #vancouver #vancouver cancuks #vancover canucks #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #Quinn Hughes fics #wedding

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supernovafics · 4 months ago

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series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit language, lots and lots of fluff<333

summary: waking up next to steve the morning after everything’s changed

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆❞

Fall Semester 2015

He was your first real friend here. That felt pretty certain after just the first time you two hung out in his dorm room because your roommate was having sex in yours, and your other option would’ve been camping out in the library.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to accept Eddie’s offer. You two were still pretty much strangers at that point and had only had one brief conversation in a broken-down elevator. However, somehow, it didn’t feel like a bad decision.

Over the last month of being in college, there had been no one else that you’d been able to hit it off so easily with. In ways, it reminded you of how friendships formed in elementary school— bonding over the most random of things and then promptly becoming the best friends for a week or two. This friendship with Eddie already felt like it would last longer than just a few weeks, though.

“What about California?”

You shook your head. “Ended up being too expensive.”

You two were settled on his floor and talking about what brought you both here, and you’d been surprisingly honest and admitted that you had really wanted to get out of your quiet hometown and had done everything you could to make that happen; applying to colleges in a bunch of different states, and then ending up here because it made the most sense in the end.

“What about you?” You asked, turning the question over to him.

“I wasn’t the best in high school, but I somehow got accepted here,” He told you and you nodded. “At first, I kinda didn’t wanna go, but my uncle was really adamant about it, so I did it. And it hasn’t been too bad so far.”

“Aside from the elevators that break down way too easily,” You joked, giving him a small smile.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, aside from that. But apparently, they're the best way to make friends.”

You nodded, laughing too. “Unconventional, but effective.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

It was a tangle of limbs and zero space— your head on Steve’s chest and an arm draped around his torso and his wrapped around you, keeping you close. The position itself was surprisingly comfortable but you were starting to feel way too warm.

You weren’t even entirely sure what time it was or when you and Steve had finally fallen asleep after talking and doing a bit more than talking throughout most of the night, but you could see that the sun was out and it didn’t feel as if you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep.

Instead of shifting out of the position, you simply pushed the blanket down off of you with your hand and leg that wasn’t entirely entangled with Steve’s because you refused to completely detach from him. The cool air hitting your bare legs immediately made you feel a thousand times better and you softly sighed in contentment.

“You okay?” You heard Steve sleepily mumble.

“Yeah, I was just a little warm,” You whispered back, eyes still shut as you attempted to lull yourself back to sleep.

“Sorry, are we too close?” He asked and started to pull away, but you quickly stopped him by pushing yourself further into your side.

“No, no, it’s okay. I like this.”

“Okay,” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

That made you open your eyes and tilt your head upward to look at him. The sleepy smile on his face made you want to kiss him, and realizing that you could do that whenever you wanted to now warmed something inside you.

As if feeling your gaze, Steve’s eyes opened and he looked down at you. “You’re staring.”

You pushed up further so that you could press a kiss against his cheek. “You’re really cute.”

“And you say I’m the flirty one,” He said as his arms tightened around you and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

You shook your head, the smallest smile on your face. “I wasn’t trying to flirt, just stating a fact and giving you a very sweet compliment.”

“Okay, in that case, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Steve shifted a bit, keeping you close but maneuvering so that he was on his side and facing you. You followed suit, moving a little and letting the side of your head fall against your pillow as you kept looking at him. He leaned in a little, nose softly brushing yours before closing all of the distance and pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands slipped beneath your t-shirt and gave your waist a squeeze, which made you hum softly into his mouth. You pulled back from the kiss after the briefest moment.

“Wait, I need to ask you something,” You said, eyes meeting his. “Do you like Monopoly?”

He let out a laugh. “That’s such a random question, but yeah. I can’t remember the last time I played it, though.”

“We finally played it again for game night and I kinda wished you were there,” You told him as you reached out to push a hand through his messy hair. “I had a feeling you would’ve gotten just as competitive as Robin.”

“I do get very competitive at Monopoly,” He nodded and then turned his head a bit so that he could press a quick kiss against your wrist. “I don’t know if we’d be able to survive it.”

You shook your head as you smiled. “No, we would be fine because you’d be competitive with everyone else, but super nice to me.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s true,” He smiled back at you. “I’d never make you pay if you landed on any of my properties.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re really cute too, by the way.”

You smiled wider. “You are the flirty one.”

“Yes, and I’ll happily admit it,” He said before kissing you again.

It was the sound of your phone loudly ringing, indicating your alarm, that interrupted you two that time around and startled you so much that it made your head harshly bump against his.

“Ouch, sorry.”

“What’s that alarm for?” Steve asked, rubbing his forehead.

“For you. And I completely forgot about it,” You answered as you turned and reached over to grab your phone and stop the incessant ringing. “I set it last night after you mentioned the final project that you needed to spend all day today working on.” You also quickly turned off the alarm that was set for fifteen minutes from now. “But, and hear me out on this one— don’t leave.” You turned back over and faced him again, taking note of the amused look on his face. “I’m kidding, for the most part, I know you have to go. But, I do have a fresh toothbrush you can use, and I still have your t-shirt if you wanna change into something else. Wait, actually, no you can’t use that shirt. I refuse to give it back to you now.”

“Honestly, I never expected it back.”

“Good,” You said before letting out a soft contented sigh and burying your face in his neck.

Things got quiet then and you half-expected him to say that yes, he did have to leave, but he didn’t. Instead, neither of you moved for a bit.

You could feel yourself slowly falling asleep, but you didn’t want it to happen, and although you wanted Steve to stay and be both your pillow and your blanket at that moment, you knew what you actually needed to do right then.

You pulled back from his neck to look at him. “Okay, I’ll stop holding you hostage now.”

“You can keep doing it if you want,” He said, sounding equally as tired as you and you decided not to protest his words.

“Okay,” You said softly with a quick nod before shifting around so that you were pressed back against him and then pulled his arm around you.

You felt his mouth against the top of your ear. “I wanna take you out tonight.”

You hummed in response. “Out?”

“On a date that both of us know is a date.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “Do I get to know where?”

“No, I want it to be a surprise.”

“Of course you do,” You said playfully. “Lucky for you I’m completely free tonight.”

You weren’t sure how long you’d fallen asleep that time, it could’ve been ten minutes or an hour, but the feeling of Steve pulling away from you stirred you awake.

“Go back to sleep,” He said when your eyes opened and you turned over to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

You shook your head as you stood up from your bed and rubbed your eyes. “No, I’ll walk you out. Just to the door, though. I don’t think I can make it downstairs.”

“Okay,” He said, smiling at your tiredness.

It slightly startled you to see everyone in the living room; Robin and Vickie on the couch and Talia on the small loveseat.

“Hi… You guys remember Steve,” You said much more awkwardly than intended. The entire moment suddenly felt like a walk of shame; even though you and Steve hadn’t had sex and you were already home. But it was just that, aside from Talia, the last thing your other two friends knew about you and Steve was that you hadn’t talked in a month, so it must’ve seemed insane seeing him walk out of your room right then.

Vickie nodded at your previous words and smiled. “Talia filled us in on everything.”

“Steven, you’ve been missed around here,” Robin said, a smile on her face at first, and then she gave him a serious look. “We’ll have another talk later.”

He laughed a little. “Can’t wait for that.”

You finished walking Steve to the door, and Robin, Vickie, and Talia went back to watching the sitcom playing on the TV, but you had a feeling that they were very much listening to you and him.

Steve stepped out into the quiet hallway and then turned around to face you. “I’ll text you later about our date.”

“Okay,” You said softly, trying to think of some sort of joke to say but it was hard to do when all you really wanted to do right then was kiss him. So, you did, quickly pushing up on your toes and pressing the quickest kiss against his lips.

“Maybe I should stay, actually,” He said when you pulled back and his hands reached out to settle on your hips.

You almost agreed, but you shook your head instead. “No, go. You’re not gonna fail any classes because of me.”

“Okay,” He said before leaning down and giving you a final kiss on your cheek. “Bye.”

“Bye,” You said and then proceeded to smile and lean against the doorframe as you watched him walk away.

“Oh my god, she’s so in love.”

“Shut up,” You said in response to Robin’s teasing words as you pushed the door shut once Steve turned the corner. You tried to sound as serious as possible, but it was way too hard to wipe the smile off of your face.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Steve’s hand found yours barely a minute into the car ride, intertwining it with his and resting them on your thigh.

You settled yourself into his passenger seat, getting comfortable for however long the drive would end up being. “So, you’re taking me to dinner.”

“Maybe…” He responded, and it slightly amused you how vague he was still being about everything even though his earlier text of, “I’ll be at your place at 7. Make sure you don’t eat dinner,” could really only mean one thing.

You decided to play along, though. “Or is it bowling? Roller skating? A movie?”

“Those are really good guesses,” He joked, which made you laugh.

“What’s the right answer?”

He took a quick glance over at you and shook his head. “I’m not saying.”

It wasn’t until twenty minutes later when he was parked in an unfamiliar but very crowded parking lot that he finally told you.

“Do you remember our first date?” He asked, and at first, all you could do was smile at his words.

It was such a silly question that you really couldn’t help but make a joke. “Weirdly enough, I don’t. Wait, who are you again?”

“Ha ha,” He playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“I’m sorry, I had to,” You said, pulling your intertwined hands up and giving the back of his a quick peck. “Of course, I remember our first date. We had a great time watching the second Hunger Games movie.”

“Yes, and we were supposed to get food before the movie, but you weren’t hungry so we skipped dinner and just did the movie. This is the place that I was gonna take you then.”

You nodded at his words and then looked away from him when you remembered something else from that night— where your head had been then and how you’d been feeling. “I’m sorry.”

Steve gave you a confused look. “Why?”

“This feels so shitty to say now, but I lied then. The reason that I suggested we skip dinner was because I just wanted the date to be over faster. Oh my god, saying it out loud makes it sound even more shitty.” You met his gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t be. That’s okay,” Steve said as he gave your hand a light reassuring squeeze. “Honestly, that makes a lot of sense.”

“It’s so stupid, though, because then during it, when we were watching the movie, I kinda regretted lying because of how well things were actually going with us.”

He gave you a smile then. “It was really good.”

You nodded. “Yup, I even let you kiss me that night.”

“Can I kiss you right now?”

You shook your head, biting back the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s not proper date etiquette, Steven. All kisses must be saved until the end.”

He nodded understandingly, but there was an amused smile on his face. “Ah yes, makes sense.”

You held his eyes for a moment and then looked away and finally stepped out of his car before you ended up breaking your own stupid rule.

His hand found yours again as you two headed inside the restaurant. It was a lively and busy place, and at first, you figured that was why Steve had picked it, but once you two were settled in the short line behind other people waiting to put their names down at the hostess stand, you noticed the open doors that led to the dining room area straight ahead and then the shelves and shelves of books to the left.

Before you could say anything, Steve was leaning into your ear to be heard over the noise. “It’s kind of a book-themed restaurant. You’ll see all of the decorations on the walls when we sit down later.” He then nodded his head in the direction of the bookshelves that you’d just noticed. “And there’s a used bookstore attached too.”

You looked up at him. “This place is perfect.” You then shook your head at yourself. “Now I feel like even more of an asshole for lying to you that night.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, if we would’ve gone then, you probably would’ve fallen in love with me on the spot,” He told you, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Embarrassingly so, probably,” You playfully nodded in agreement.

It was quite hard to imagine things working out between you two in any other way than this one, though. It almost felt as if everything needed to happen in the way that it did between you and him. And with how damn near perfect everything felt right now, you were completely okay with how slow everything had moved— how stupid and confused you both had been at times— because it happily led you here.

You looked around for a brief second. “How did you know I would like this place before we even met?”

“The only thing Eddie told me about you before our date was that you were an English major, and after a quick Google search, I found this place and I figured it would be perfect,” He explained and then gave you a nonchalant and almost shy-looking shrug.

You pushed up on your toes and quickly kissed him instead of verbally saying anything in response to his thoughtful words that made you feel as if you were going to explode because of how sweet they were.

When you pulled away, he smiled at you. “I thought that wasn’t proper date etiquette?”

You didn’t get the chance to answer his question because you two were at the front of the line and Steve was putting his name down after the hostess said that there would be about a forty-five-minute wait to get a table, which you were perfectly okay with.

Steve let you lead the way as you went down different aisles; it was pretty quiet between you two. Whenever you were looking through books, you always got that way, focusing on finding something instead of anything else.

After about fifteen minutes, you were slotting another book back in the spot you pulled it from and then looked at Steve. “God, sorry, this is probably so boring for you.”

He shook his head and gave you a small smile. “No, I like watching you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “If I didn’t really really really like you, I would think that’s very creepy.”

“Phew, good thing you really really really like me then,” His arms circled around you and you returned the embrace immediately, letting your arms wrap around his neck as you looked up at him.

You were almost certain that you two were going to kiss, but you pulled away when you noticed a person at the end of the aisle— you didn’t want you and Steve to become the kind of couple that was so disgustingly adorable in public. You grabbed his hand instead and continued to lead him down the aisle.

You picked through books with your free hand, nothing really catching your eye enough for you to actually pull it off the shelf, and then you noticed a title that looked really familiar so you grabbed it immediately. “Woah.”

“What?” Steve asked, looking down at the book you now had in your hand.

“Okay, this might be a stupidly long story,” You started. “So, I had to read a different book by this author for one of my classes. I ended up liking it a lot and also his writing style too, so I looked him up, and I saw that he did this historical fiction book; some World War II thing. It actually sounded interesting, and I immediately thought of you when I found it because I thought you’d probably like it. But, we weren’t talking at the time, so of course I didn’t tell you about it or recommend it to you.” You pointed to the book in your hand. “This is that book, and now I really wanna get it for you. This also now reminds me of our first date and when I said that I’d find you a book to make you not hate reading. If you do end up actually hating this book, though, I give you full permission to lie to me when I ask what you thought about it.” You got quiet as you looked down at the book again and then back up at him. “Okay, I’m done rambling now.”

Steve smiled at you and your rambling. “I can’t wait to read it.”

You laughed a bit. “Okay, you don’t have to lie yet.”

“I’m not lying,” He told you. “If you get like this anytime you talk about books, then I’ll read any one you give me.”

That warmed your heart so much that it made you not care about pressing the sweetest kiss against his lips in front of the other people in the narrow aisle.

His hand was still against your cheek when you pulled back from the slow kiss and told him, “I’ll happily read to you too, like in Mexico, if you want.”

He nodded. “That sounds great.”

The text that the table was ready came earlier than expected. You two were sitting on a small bench that was right outside the restaurant and you were in fact reading to him.

“Thoughts so far?” You asked as you and he stood up to head back into the restaurant. “Remember lying is encouraged.”

“It’s surprisingly good. And I’m not lying,” He answered as he pulled the door open for you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You weren’t entirely sure who initiated what.

You had kissed Steve first, you knew that. But, it was meant to be a goodbye one— you were standing outside of your apartment door after having dinner at the restaurant and you both could recognize that the night had come to its natural end. Instead, though, the kiss felt like the opposite; it distinctly felt like the start of something rather than the end. And it did start something.

You were being softly pressed back against the door as Steve deepened the kiss, mouth moving against yours so seamlessly as one hand came up to cup your cheek and the other found the curve of your waist.

There was a part of you that suddenly felt so certain that this would never not feel so fucking right to you. Sure, it had been barely twenty-four hours since things shifted and changed into what you and Steve were now, but it felt so easy and not at all rushed or abrupt. It was as if this was something that had been slowly building until here you two finally were— making out against your front door without a care in the world because you both were so equally smitten and enamored by each other.

You wanted absolutely everything with him, and perhaps he was able to tell that from the look in your eyes when you pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath for a moment. And maybe it was in your head, but it seemed as if he was nodding in agreement with you.

He was in the middle of leaning in to kiss you again when the door opened abruptly and you let out a surprised yelp as both of Steve’s hands immediately found your hips to keep you from falling back.

“Shit, sorry,” You recognized Eddie’s voice before you turned around. “I don’t even wanna know what you two were just doing.”

You didn’t expect to see him in this moment. He came over to the apartment earlier to return something that he’d stolen from Robin a few days ago, and you had used that moment as your opportunity to tell him about you and Steve.

“I guess I did end up playing matchmaker for you after all,” Had been his immediate response after you told him that you and Steve were together. “Once again, I expect the biggest shoutout at your guys’ wedding.”

You only rolled your eyes at him in response because you couldn’t think of anything else to say. Technically, he was entirely right— you wouldn’t have even met Steve if it wasn’t for Eddie. And it was a bit insane to think about that.

“Also,” He continued. “I feel slightly offended that I’m the last to find out, even though I’ve known you the longest.”

“It’s one of the privileges that come along with Rob, Vick, and Tal being my roommates,” You said, a teasing smile on your face. “You’ll be back to the top in a few months.”

At the end of the summer, he was going to move into Talia’s room since she was graduating and doing her master’s program at a school in New York. It was an almost too obvious decision that, of course, made the most sense.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” You said to Eddie now. You mindlessly leaned back against Steve because it felt slightly weird not having zero space between you two. It wasn’t until after you did it, that you wondered if you were doing too much, being too much, but then Steve’s hand was finding yours and giving it a light squeeze, and the thought was quickly pushed away.

“Vickie put on this weird Christmas baking show and we’ve all been watching it since you left,” Eddie explained and you nodded. “I’m now being forced to grab the takeout from downstairs, though.”

“You’re back!” You noticed Talia turning around from where she was on the couch. “How was the date?”

Before you could say anything, Robin was turning around too. “Eddie, grab the food before it gets stolen by the same asshole from last time!”

“I’m going, I’m going,” He called out before heading down the hallway.

The door was more than halfway open at that point, and you turned again to look at Steve again instead of doing anything else.

“You wanna come in?” You asked because you simply just really wanted to keep the night going with him. “If we hate watching the baking show, we can go to my room and finally watch Freaky Friday.”

From the smile on his face, you could tell that he didn’t want the night to be over either. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

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cuteandhughesy · 5 months ago

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Wedding Season | William Nylander

summary: ever since y/n and william started dating, the two of them have been attending friends and teammates weddings - and everytime y/n can't help but think of her own wedding.

2.2 K

warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | fluff | alcohol | weddings

notes: a short lil willy imagine to tie everyone over as I finish up the last stages of a new rempe fic! stay tuned bc I can do it with a broken heart is on its way !!

link to masterlist

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One: july 7, 2018 The Wests

y/n met William Nylander at her good friend, Stephanie LaChance's, boyfriends summer barbecue. yeah, kind of a mouth full. She went to school with Stephanie and the two had always stayed close, even when y/n moved out to B.C.

when Steph heard her friend was moving back to Ontario, she invited her to her boyfriends Mitch's barbecue that he was hosting for his teammates and their significant others. long story short.

Willy was already there when y/n arrived. She was wearing a pink sundress with white flowers and those brown strappy gladiator sandals that willy loved so much. her hair was long at the time, and cascaded down her back in a loose ponytail. y/n was the most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on. They were introduced by Steph, and exchanged numbers, and the rest was history.

A couple months after they made it official, y/n received a wedding invitation in the mail. Her collage roommate, Taylor, was getting married. With a plus one in the air, y/n asked Willy if he would want to go with her, granted, the wedding was almost a year away, but he still said he would.

Fast forward to July 7th 2018 at the wedding of Taylor and Logan West. The ceremony was beautiful. stunning floral arrangements covered every isle, and they smelt so damn good. y/n was covered in a soft blue silk dress, perfectly complimenting Williams off white dress shirt and khaki pants.

y/n cried when Taylor walked down the isle, a loving smile on her face. William looked down at her and laughed out a smile.

"shut up," y/n mumbled in regards to her tears, slapping her boyfriends chest softly.

y/n cried even more when they exchanged vows and this time William didn't snicker or laugh but instead pulled her small frame into his side, kissing her head before returning his attention to the couple.

She admired how perfect Taylor and Logan were for one another, and how amazing their vows were - how epic their love was. y/n felt a deep pang of wedding blues in her gut - she wanted a wedding, and flowers, and crying guests and beautiful music.

At the reception, Taylor and Logan took their position to begin their first dance and 'It Will Rain' started to play and this time y/n didn't cry, but imagined what song she would have playing for her first dance. and then....

"I always thought I would have a Taylor Swift song for my first dance, I'm not sure why but I think she would be perfect," Williams words were a soft whisper against the shell of her ear and that's when she knew who she wanted to have a first dance with.

Two: june 29, 2019 The Martins

Of course Sydney had the most perfect, beautiful wedding ever. Fitting for the most amazing couple y/n has ever had the pleasure of knowing. The party had been going for a few hours now, the drinks were flowing, the food was delicious and the music was perfect.

y/n had lost her shoes about 30 minutes ago, she remembers leaving them at the table in an empty seat bedside Auston and said 'don't let anybody steal these' as if somebody would actually do steal her shoes - it made auston laugh.

She was dancing with Steph, the two of them quite tipsy (as-well as barefoot) to some Drake song. Sydney had just left them to find Matt so Steph smiled. "Isn't this amazing?" the blond asked.

"So amazing...I want to get married." y/n pouted.

"Me too," Steph concluded. "I should go ask Mitch about getting married right now!"

y/n’s eyes lit up, "You should!"

The music slowed down and You're still the One by Shania started playing. y/n felt arms circle her waist, "I wondered were you went," she turned in Williams arms to face him, "all I could find were your shoes." he told her.

y/n smiled, throwing her arms around Willy's shoulders, letting him sway her to the music. "my feet were hurting."

"I'll rub them later," willy told her.

y/n smirked, "it's not my feet I want you to rub..." she tried to wink seductively but it ended up being a tired blink.

he shushed her but smirked anyways, giving the side of her a head a quick kiss. "you're drunk."

"pssshhh...no."

"yeah yeah," williams eyes sparkled and y/n felt herself swoon. the two continued to dance together on the dance floor, even when the slow song stopped and the party songs picked back up they still stayed together.

y/n couldn't wait until she was dancing with william - at their own wedding.

Three: june 30, 2019 The Hymans

william was pretty drunk. so was everybody else though, so he didn't feel bad. he was sitting on a bench near the edge of the dance floor, taking in the moment as he watched zach and alanna twirl each other around - surrounded by all friends and family alike.

he doesn't remember much from that night, like he knows: he was drunk. but he does remember that he wasn't alone at that bench - auston was sitting beside him, probably just as drunk.

"hey man," austons knee bounced of williams, alerting the blonde man's attention. "isn't this great."

"hell yeah," william nods.

auston laughs with him. he doesn't speak for a moment and it goes quiet between the two friends. then he takes a breath, gaining willy's attention. "makes you think. doesn't it?"

"what do you mean?"

"like," auston sighs, "having a wedding. getting married." William doesn't say anything at first so he continues. "don't you want this?" he gestures towards the newly wedded couple.

"I do, yeah." william smiles, mostly to himself.

"I think you've got a good one, willy." auston says to his friend and yeah, willy thinks, I have the best one of them all. then he sees y/n whisking her way through the dancing crowd, dress flowing free around her ankles, shoes abandoned like usual.

"where are your shoes?" willy teases when y/n gets close. she shrugs, grabbing a hold of williams hands and pulling him up and off the bench.

"let's get another drink," she laughs.

"alright," he smiles.

"I have to pee first though, come with me."

he groans, wrapping and arm around her waist and dropping his head into his shoulder. it made auston laugh.

"have fun you two," auston teases.

y/n laughs and william kisses her cheek 5 quick times. he loves her so much.

Four: august 7, 2021 The Browns

the sparkler that was held in y/n’s hand was bright and hot. william had his arm around her waist, his other hand holding an identical sparkler to her own. beside her, lucy gardiner was wiping her eyes, watching connor and madison leave the event - ready to head out on their honey moon.

friends and wedding guests alike cheers for the newlyweds, eyes filled with emotions.

madison and connor looked so...happy. she had never seen two people look more happy and in love.

y/n had that familiar sinking feeling in her gut. that feeling of longing and wanting. weddings always made her feel like that, ever since she had gone to her first wedding when she was twelve and was a flower girl for her aunts third marriage.

expect now, that all so familiar feeling was followed by a feeling of intense love and hope and the excitement of the future. all because of william and the connection he gave her. she loves him so much.

"hey," he whispered into her ear softly, "ready to head out?"

connor and madison were driving off now, ready to be whisked off into marriage life and honeymoons in hawaii.

y/n’s head fell back against his shoulder as william pulled her body infront of his, their sparklers dying down into a burnt stick. "yeah, are you?"

"I am," william kissed her temple.

on their way home, william was driving their vehicle back to the hotel room when he said, "where would you want to go on our honey moon?"

y/n blinked at the question. "oh god...probably greece or maybe even amsterdam."

william smiled, "I like those options."

"I can't wait."

Five: july 29, 2023 The Marners

steph asked y/n to be her maid of honour with a cute gift box, a champagne glass printed to prompt the question. y/n was almost as excited that day then when she found out her best friend was engaged.

fast forward to july 29th, where she stood at the head of the venue, speech ready on her phone, a shaking hand, and hundreds of eyes watching her - ready for her to begin.

"Hello everyone," y/n started, "for those who don't know me, I'm your/n, steph's childhood best friend. I am so glad that we are able to be here today to celebrate the beautiful bride and groom: Steph and Mitch. No matter what challenges they faced they always said they would get married on this date no matter what, because when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. Or maybe it was because Steph preemptively bought decorations with today’s date on it - who knows."

the crowd laughed and y/n could feel her nerves dwindling slowly. she could feel her grip on the microphone was moist, her sweaty hands betraying her. looking out into the crowd, she sees the smiling faces of her friends, family and a special blonde. the love of her life. william gave her an encouraging nod, a smirk on his lips.

she hadn't gotten to see william properly that day. she had been apart of the bridal party, therefore, getting ready and making sure steph was happy was her main priority. hell, she had seen matt martin more than her own boyfriend.

y/n took a deep breath, "Growing up, steph, I always looked up to you, I wanted to wear everything you wore and do everything that you did. you could have told me anything and I would have believed you. one example of this is you saying since you were older you had to get married first. guess you were right. but i'm sure my turn will come," she took a dramatic pause, "will, i'm looking at you."

the crowd laughed, williams teammates surrounding him chirped him, shaking his shoulders in a teasing manner. y/n laughed. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. now that steph and I are older, we have set our childish arguments aside and found common ground on how we can relate to the bachelor, each others intense fomo, and impatience of people who take forever to get ready. even though, steph and I are those people who take....forever to get ready."

william laughed to himself, knowing quite well how his girlfriend and her best friend would get when they were together. it was like watching two sloths walking.

"the first time I heard steph mention mitch was when I was 15 and steph was 16. she had called me and vented to me about how she told a guy she didn't want to hang out with them anvmore but she said she was thinking that she had made a huge mistake. me, knowing nothing about the guy she was talking about, said something along the lines of 'You worry too much and forget about him'. Thankfully, steph, you did not take my advice and a week later I came home, and she was skating at the local rink with the guy I told her to forget about.

Once I got to know mitch, I became less bitter that steph did not listen to my advice. I remember being fully won over when mitch bought me and steph the same pair of pyjamas for christmas in the same year because you knew that we wanted to match - and knowing what I know now about how mitch and gift giving, it means even more. I have never met a more perfect, kind or beautiful couple. so, I would like to make a toast -"

the group raised their drinks, smiles all around. william couldn't help but admire his girlfriend, how her bridesmaid dress looked on her body, and her stunning face and perfect hair. she looked so happy to be celebrating her friends marriage and in that moment his thoughts were solidified.

"to the beautiful bride and groom. on this perfect day. mitch, you are the best person. you are kind, funny, and the perfect match for steph. and steph...you are my best friend," steph wiped her eyes and y/n could feel her own eyes filling with tears, "you are beautiful, caring and you will be the best wife. cheers to the happy couple, I am so honoured to be apart of your special day."

the crowd applauded her, toasting their glasses in celebration. chatter about her speech started and y/n ran to give steph a hug, kissing the side of her head and accepting a hug and thank you from mitch before taking het seat beside the bride.

the next speech started and william watched y/n take a deep breath, eyes scanning the room until they landed on her man.

she smiled wide.

'you did so well,' he mouthed to her.

y/n smirked, 'thank you honey,"

he mouths more - 'you look so sexy,"

she playfully rolled her eyes, a blush covering her face. 'stop,' she mouthed back.

that's it. he was going to marry her.

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dreamauri · 2 months ago

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♪ — 𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 - chapter three fernando alonso x fem! driver! reader ( fluff -> angst ) series summary . . . a mortal who dared to defy the impossible. Of grit forged in fire, and dreams that refused to yield. In a world where heroes are born, and few rise to become legends. You are a force to be reckoned with. Unshakable. Unstoppable. Indomitable. (4.5k words)

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III, PAPER SOLDIER . . . ( Your fourth to seventh years in Formula One, 2015 -> 2018 ) // content warning . . . ( contains non-descriptive smut, Yn is 23 years in the beginning of the chapter and 25 by the end, really fucking long ass chapter )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the 2015 season began, you couldn’t help but feel the absence of Jenson Button. Walking into the McLaren garage without him felt wrong—like something essential had been ripped away. Jenson had been more than a teammate; he was your anchor in a sport that constantly threatened to drown you.

But Fernando Alonso didn’t try to replace Jenson, and somehow, that made things easier. Instead of trying to mimic the camaraderie you’d had with Jenson, Fernando brought his own brand of companionship. He didn’t hover or press; he simply existed, radiating his unique mix of confidence and charisma, until you realized how much you enjoyed having him around.

By the second race of the season, you were surprised to find yourself laughing more than you had in months. Whether it was during strategy meetings or post-race celebrations, Fernando had a way of lightening the mood with his dry humour and his sly, knowing glances.

“You don’t always have to overtake on the outside, you know,” he teased one afternoon, smirking over his coffee. “But I suppose drama is part of your brand.”

“And I suppose being smug is part of yours,” you shot back, grinning.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to hit your stride. On track, you were ruthless and synchronised. “Chaotic villains,” the press called you, and you secretly loved it. You weren’t just teammates; you were a nightmare for the rest of the grid. Fernando’s ability to anticipate your moves was uncanny, and together, you executed overtakes that left even seasoned commentators stunned.

Off the track, things were somehow even better. McLaren’s marketing team, notorious for shoving drivers into cringeworthy advertisements, suddenly had gold on their hands. You and Fernando—two drivers who hated scripted lines and staged smiles—were unexpectedly brilliant together.

The first time they made you film a commercial, you groaned audibly when the director explained the concept. Something about racing through a supermarket with shopping carts full of McLaren-branded products.

“I hate this already,” you muttered under your breath.

Fernando, standing beside you, gave you a sidelong glance. “Tranquila, we’ll make it good.”

And somehow, he did. By the third take, the two of you were hamming it up, racing down aisles, tossing products back and forth, and laughing so hard you almost forgot the cameras were there.

“Did you see her face when I threw the cereal?” Fernando joked afterward, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I saw your face when it hit the floor and exploded everywhere,” you retorted. “Pure panic.”

From then on, every commercial and promotional shoot turned into a competition to see who could make the other laugh first. Whether it was fake arguments over who got to drive a McLaren P1 in an ad or Fernando trying to convince the camera crew to let him wear sunglasses indoors, you found yourself looking forward to those dreaded filming days.

“Por favor, it’s not about the lighting,” Fernando argued one day, slipping on his sunglasses mid-shoot. “It’s about the vibe.”

“The vibe is you looking like a smug Bond villain,” you quipped, trying to suppress a giggle.

“And yet,” he said, gesturing dramatically, “the director hasn’t stopped me.”

The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it extended beyond work. Post-race dinners, gym sessions, and late-night debriefs all became opportunities for the two of you to poke fun at each other, share stories, and build a bond that felt effortless. You had been so sure that McLaren would feel hollow without Jenson, but with Fernando, it felt alive—different, but in the best way.

“Why do you even put up with me?” you asked him one night after a particularly gruelling race.

Fernando leaned back in his chair, his smirk softening into something more sincere. “Because you make everything more fun,” he said simply. “And because I know, no matter what, you’ve got my back.”

His words lingered, making your chest feel tight in a way you couldn’t quite name. You didn’t know it yet, but Fernando had already carved out a place for himself in your life—one that no one else could fill.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The first time with Fernando, everything felt different—electric and uncharted. It wasn’t just the post-race champagne that made your head spin; it was him. His presence was commanding yet soft, every movement deliberate, every touch reverent. It wasn’t just the circumstances—a blur of adrenaline and post-race champagne after a double podium—it was him.

It started simply. His hand lingered on your lower back as you laughed about your overtakes, his eyes soft yet unreadable in a way that made your pulse quicken. When you turned toward him, it felt natural, as if every unsaid word between you had been leading to this.

His hands started at your waist, fingers splaying as if he needed to ground himself before pulling you closer. Your breath hitched when his lips found yours—warm, firm, and unyielding yet unhurried. With Jenson, it was always rushed, a blur of need fueled by adrenaline or alcohol. But Fernando . . . Fernando took his time.

When his hand brushed against yours that night, there wasn’t hesitation. His fingers closed around yours, a silent question, and you answered by lacing your own through his. You followed him to his hotel room, and the atmosphere shifted the moment the door clicked shut.

When his hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, you shivered. He didn’t tear your clothes off in a frenzy like Jenson often did. Instead, Fernando paused, peeling your top away like unwrapping something fragile. His dark eyes studied you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks burn and your heart race.

"Beautiful," he murmured, the word barely audible, like it was meant for him more than you.

Your breaths mingled as he lowered you onto the bed, his weight settling over you. He kissed you again, slower this time, the stubble on his jaw grazing your skin as his lips travelled to your neck, then your collarbone. Each kiss was deliberate, a silent declaration that this wasn’t just about the act—it was about you.

With Jenson, it was playful, almost careless, both of you seeking a quick fix for the emptiness racing couldn’t fill. But Fernando didn’t let you hide behind that. He demanded you be present, dragging you into the moment with the sheer intensity of his focus.

When his lips found your stomach, you felt your breath catch. He'd knelt before you, his hands steady on your hips, his touch grounding yet reverent. Then he paused, looking up at you, his voice low and steady.

“¿Puedo?” he asked. can i

The question caught you off guard. Permission. Fernando was asking for permission. He asked for it like it mattered, like you mattered. No one had ever done that before. Jenson never stopped to ask; he assumed, and you never thought to mind. But Fernando’s request made your cheeks flush, a heat spreading across your skin that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with how he treated you. Like you mattered.

You hesitated for a moment, flustered by the simplicity of his question. You nodded, then realized he probably couldn’t see in the dark. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Fernando.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, a barely-there acknowledgment, before he leaned forward again. His touch was featherlight, a stark contrast to Jenson’s rough, teasing movements. Fernando didn’t just touch; he felt—explored, cherished.

When he finally joined you fully, his body pressed flush against yours, it felt like he was pouring himself into every movement. His hips met yours in a rhythm that wasn’t rushed but deliberate, a steady, consuming pace that left you breathless. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to kiss you, the connection sparking something deep in your chest.

It wasn’t the hurried, animalistic need you’d come to expect with Jenson. Jenson was fun, a rush, a release—but Fernando? Fernando was something entirely different. His touch carried weight, his movements spoke volumes, and his whispered praises in Spanish felt like poetry meant just for you.

When the pleasure crested, it was overwhelming, almost too much. Tears pricked at your eyes as you clung to him, your breaths shaky as he slowed his movements, his forehead pressing against yours. every sensation was heightened. His fingers brushed against yours again, and before you knew it, he was threading them together, holding your hand like it was second nature. You squeezed his hand back, unsure why the simple touch sent a pang through your chest and left you breathless.

It wasn’t just his touch—it was the way he looked at you. His eyes held something you couldn’t quite name, something you don't quite recognizing. It made you feel exposed, stripped down to your core. And when the emotions started to bubble up, you bit your lip to keep them at bay.

But it didn’t work. As his hands soothed over you and his words melted into your skin, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. It wasn’t from sadness or even overwhelm—it was the feelings, the emotions he poured into you, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world in that moment. It consumed you, swallowed you whole, and left you small, tiny.

"Estás llorando," he murmured softly, his voice laced with concern. “Cariño,” His thumbs brushed your cheeks, wiping away the tears as they fell. you're crying

“I . . .” You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “It’s just . . . It’s a lot. I'm fine.”

His lips quirked into a gentle smile, his hand trailing to your hair, brushing it back tenderly. “It’s supposed to be,” he whispered. “It’s okay to not be okay. I'll be here anyway.”

Afterward, he didn’t pull away. He stayed close, his body pressed to yours, his hands never leaving your skin. He whispered softly in Spanish, words you couldn’t fully understand but felt in your chest. His touch was tender, reverent, as he cleaned you up, smoothing your hair and holding you close.

Jenson never stayed like this. He’d always drift away, detached even in the quiet moments. But Fernando? He stayed. He always stayed. And that, you realized, was what made him different.

“Estás bien?” he asked after a while, his voice soft against your hair.

You nodded against his chest. “I’m fine,” you murmured, even as your voice wavered.

His fingers stilled, and he tilted your chin up gently so he could see your face. “¿Segura? You don’t have to be fine.”

His words unravelled you. For once, you didn’t feel the need to pretend. Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you let yourself feel small. Let yourself feel cared for. Let yourself feel.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was well past midnight, and the McLaren motorhome was almost eerily quiet. You were sprawled out on one of the sofas, still in your team polo, watching Fernando pace back and forth in front of the whiteboard. He was ranting about tyre degradation, gesturing wildly as if the problem could be solved with enough hand movements.

“You know,” you interrupted, stretching your legs out, “normal people sleep at this hour.”

“Normal people don’t win races,” he shot back without missing a beat, his accent thick and his tone just a little exasperated.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, grinning. “You really think the medium stint was the problem?”

“I know it was,” he said, turning to face you. His expression softened slightly when he saw your teasing smile. “What? You don’t agree?”

“Oh, I agree,” you said, sitting up fully. “I just think it’s cute how worked up you get over it.”

Fernando groaned, but there was no real annoyance behind it. He sat down beside you, pulling the marker cap off with his teeth and twirling the pen between his fingers. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re obsessed,” you countered, leaning your head on the back of the sofa. “But fine. What’s your genius solution?”

For the next hour, he explained his strategy tweaks with the same passion he reserved for the track. And even though you didn’t need convincing, you let him go on, chiming in with questions just to see that fire in his eyes. By the time he was finished, you were half-asleep, but you’d never felt more at ease.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The garage was buzzing with energy after another podium. Mechanics cheered, the smell of champagne hung in the air, and you were positively glowing. Fernando was beside you, leaning against a stack of tires with his arms crossed, watching you with that familiar amused smirk.

“You really had to squeeze me on Turn 4?” you teased, nudging his shoulder. “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Teammates, yes. Babysitters, no.”

“Oh, come on!” You laughed, swiping at the water bottle he was holding. “I gave you all the space in the world.”

“All the space?” he repeated, tilting his head dramatically. “You practically left me in the gravel.”

Your grin widened. “And yet, here you are. P2. You’re welcome.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. “One day,” he said softly, his voice dipping just enough to make you pause, “you’ll regret not letting me win.”

You leaned in, your smile turning mischievous. “Doubt it.”

And just like that, the moment was gone, replaced by laughter and playful jabs. But later, when you replayed the race in your head, you’d think about the way Fernando’s eyes had softened, just for a second, like he was seeing something in you that you weren’t quite ready to see yourself.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Okay, but why am I the one wearing the ridiculous hat?” you asked, glaring at the oversized cowboy hat the wardrobe team had handed you.

Fernando was already laughing, holding a matching hat in his hands. “Because you lost the coin toss.”

“You cheated,” you accused, crossing your arms.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “How can I cheat at a coin toss?”

“Don’t know, but you did.”

The director waved you both onto set before you could argue further, and the next thing you knew, you were filming an ad for some sponsor neither of you cared about, wearing cowboy hats and pretending to “race” toy cars on a fake racetrack.

Halfway through, Fernando purposely crashed his car into yours, sending it flying off the track. “Oops,” he said innocently, his smirk betraying him.

You burst out laughing, breaking character completely. “Oops? You did that on purpose!”

The director groaned, calling for another take, but neither of you could stop laughing. When the shoot finally wrapped, Fernando walked over, placing his ridiculous hat on your head. “You wore it better,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t take it off. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he replied, leaning in slightly, “you keep me around.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The race in Canada had been cancelled due to an unexpected snowstorm, and the team was stuck in the hotel for the weekend. You and Fernando were in the lobby, staring out at the swirling snow through the massive glass windows.

“Well, this is boring,” you said, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

Fernando smirked, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Only because you have no imagination.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what’s your brilliant plan, Mr. Imagination?”

Five minutes later, the two of you were outside, bundled up and attempting to build the world’s worst snowman. Fernando had decided it needed to wear a McLaren cap, and you were busy shoving chunks of snow at him every time he turned his back.

“You’re terrible at this,” he said, laughing as he dodged another snowball.

“Better than you!” you shot back, lobbing another one straight at his chest.

The next thing you knew, he was tackling you into a snowbank, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. When you finally got back inside, shivering and soaked, the warmth of his hand on your arm lingered longer than it should have.

“Come to my room tonight, hmm,” He whispers in your ear with his sweet sweet and loving smile. You could only smack his chest, flustered out of your body.

“Why should I wait till tonight when I can take you right now?” He countered himself, throwing you over his shoulder and walking to the elevator.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The next four years were a golden era for you and Fernando. While the big teams—Mercedes, Ferrari, and Red Bull—scrambled to one-up each other with upgrades and strategy, the two of you were a well-oiled machine. Every weekend was a masterclass in teamwork. You took turns holding off competitors, crafting daring overtakes, and, more often than not, splitting the podium between the two of you.

Fernando was always just behind you—or sometimes ahead—playing the perfect wingman when needed and pushing you to your limits when it mattered most. Together, you broke records. Four Constructors’ Championships in a row. Dozens of wins. But 2017 was different.

That was your year.

The sunset painted the Yas Marina Circuit in hues of orange and pink as you sat in your car, the weight of the championship within reach. Fernando had radioed you a few laps earlier.

“Message from Fernando, Yn; You’ve got this,” Your race engineer tells you, his voice steady, but there was an edge of emotion there, one he couldn’t quite hide. “Just bring it home.”

When you crossed the finish line, the sound of the crowd was deafening, but all you could hear was your own breathing. Heavy. Disbelieving.

“World Champion!” Your race engineer’s voice crackled through the radio. “You’ve done it, Yn! You’re the World Champion! For the second time!”

You let out a sob, laughing through the tears as you brought the car to a stop on the start-finish straight. The adrenaline coursed through you, but it wasn’t until Fernando’s car pulled up beside yours that it really hit you when you both did donuts togther.

He climbed out first, crossing the short distance between your cars with purpose. When you stepped out, he was there, arms wide, pulling you into a hug so tight it knocked the breath out of you.

“Campeona del mundo,” he whispered, his voice thick, breaking with emotion. His helmet was off, and when you pulled back to look at him, you saw tears glistening in his eyes.

“You helped me get here,” you said, clutching his shoulders, your voice trembling with gratitude. “Don’t forget that.”

His smile was small but genuine, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll never forget it,” he said softly. “Not a second of it.”

The crowd roared, the flashes of cameras creating a dizzying strobe effect as the two of you stood there, sharing a moment that belonged to no one else. It was Fernando who finally pulled back, resting a hand on your cheek for a fleeting second before stepping aside to let the rest of the team swarm you, lifting you on their shoulders.

The team party that night was a blur of champagne, confetti, and endless congratulations. Fernando stuck close, a steady presence in the chaos. Every time someone pulled you away to talk or toast, he was there in the corner of your eye, watching with a quiet pride.

At one point, hours into the celebration, you found him sitting on the terrace, a glass of wine in hand, staring out at the skyline.

“Not enjoying the party?” you asked, sliding into the chair beside him.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s your night, Yn. I just wanted to take it all in.”

You frowned, studying him. “Fernando, this isn’t just my night. We did this together. Four Constructors’. Four years of podiums. Four years of wins. You’re as much a part of this as I am.”

He turned to you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “It was always going to be you,” he said quietly. “I knew it from the start. You deserved this.”

“Don’t do that,” you said, leaning forward. “Don’t downplay your part in this. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

He smiled again, but there was something bittersweet about it. “Maybe not. But it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. All you could do was reach out and take his hand, squeezing it tightly. He didn’t let go.

The rest of the off-season blurred into a whirlwind of press conferences, celebrations, and award ceremonies. Fernando was always by your side, your biggest supporter, but there were moments when his presence felt heavier, like he was carrying a weight he wouldn’t share with you.

“You’re quiet,” you said one evening, after a gala dinner where the two of you had been paraded around like royalty.

He shrugged, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

He hesitated, then smiled. “The next race.”

You didn’t believe him, not entirely, but you let it slide. Fernando was like that—guarded, careful. But every so often, you’d catch glimpses of something deeper. The way his hand lingered on your back when he guided you through a crowd. The way his eyes softened when you laughed. The way he’d quietly check in on you after every race, no matter the outcome.

When the official trophy ceremony took place at the FIA Gala, Fernando insisted on standing beside you on the stage.

“You carried me through the season,” you joked as the cameras clicked and the lights flashed.

“Carried you?” he repeated, feigning offense. “You’re lucky I didn’t let you drown in the midfield.”

The banter was easy, the chemistry undeniable, and as the two of you raised the trophy together, it was clear to everyone watching that this partnership wasn’t just about racing. It was something rare, something that went beyond the track. Something neither of you could quite name.

But things don’t last forever. And getting attached is the worst part.

"I'm leaving Formula One by the end of the season,"

You froze. Time seemed to stretch, the words reverberating in your mind like an echo you couldn’t escape. You’d just arrived at the hotel room you were sharing for the week after deciding to spend the summer break together in the Caribbean. The laughter you were sharing died down in seconds and the room fell quiet.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, the question hanging in the air. It didn’t make sense, didn’t feel real. You and Fernando were a team, more than that—he was your teammate, your confidant, your partner in all things chaotic, your body, your soul. To think of him leaving the sport, of him leaving you . . . it felt like the world was crumbling beneath your feet.

“I’ve decided,” he continued, his gaze dropping to your hands that were now clutching the edge of the coffee table, as if you needed something solid to hold onto. “The time has come. I’m moving on.”

The room around you felt like it was closing in. The summer air, fresh through the open window just moments ago, now felt thick, suffocating. You couldn’t breathe.

“No,” you said, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. “No, you can’t leave me. Not now. Not like this.”

Before you could even think, you were up, stepping forward, hands reaching for him, desperate. You grasped at his arms, pulling him close, burying your face in his chest as you started to sob, the tears coming faster than you could control.

"Please don't go," you whispered, your voice trembling, cracking with the weight of your emotions. “Please. I can’t . . . I can’t do this without you.”

Fernando didn’t move at first, frozen by the force of your plea. He had always been the one with the calm, collected demeanour, the one who could hide his emotions behind that steely exterior. But now, you felt him soften in your arms. He let you pull him closer, his hands coming up to your back, rubbing circles that were meant to comfort but only made the ache in your chest worse.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Yn,” he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. “I didn’t want to leave you like this. But I have to do it. It’s time.”

“No,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as if you could somehow stop him from leaving. “I won’t let you. I can’t . . . You don’t get to walk away like that. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Fernando’s fingers gently cupped your face, lifting it so he could look into your eyes. His touch was soft, tender, but there was something in his gaze—something that told you he’d already made up his mind. “I know this isn’t easy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “But sometimes we have to let go, Yn. It doesn’t mean I’m leaving you . . . It just means I’m moving forward.”

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought through the rush of emotions. “I don’t know how to do this without you. You’re everything to me, Fernando. I—I don’t want you to go.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as if the words pained him. “I know. I don’t want to go either. But you have to understand, Yn . . . There’s more to life than this. More than F1 . . .. I Signed for a seat in WEC.”

“But I need you,” you choked out. “We’re a team. You can’t just leave.”

Fernando sighed, pulling you into his arms once more, holding you tight against him. “You’ve always been my team, Yn,” he said quietly, the emotion thick in his voice. “You always will be. But it’s time for me to find my own path. It’s time for you to find yours, too. You can’t hold on to me forever.”

The reality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You wanted to fight, to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you knew he was right. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the fear of losing him, the terror of facing a future without him in it.

You pulled away just enough to look up at him, your tears still streaming down your face. “What am I supposed to do without you?” you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Fernando’s hand gently brushed your hair out of your face, his touch tender. “You’ll be okay,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re strong, Yn. You always have been. I’ll always be here, even if I’m not on the grid. But you need to let me go.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t live without him, that you didn’t know how to do this without the constant presence of his strength beside you. But the truth was, you could feel his resolve, his certainty, and you knew this was a battle you couldn’t win.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound in the room was the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing. And then, Fernando’s hand cupped your face again, this time with more finality, and he whispered the words that made your heart ache even more.

“I’m sorry, Yn. But it’s my time.”

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disorganizedkitten · 4 months ago

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Being Rena Rouge is the best thing Alya can do to help her superhero friends, but the problem arises when she’s needed and Ladybug can’t get away long enough to bring her the Miraculous of illusions. And darn it Marinette actually knows how to hide things! Alya needs to be out there, but she also needs to have superpowers to do so.

#old writing #my writing #Jaymeow Writes #Alya Cesaire #Nino Lahiffe #miraculous ladybug #fluff month 2018 #Rena Rouge #ml ff

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yourstru1y4ever · 2 months ago

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June 21, 2018: No Guarantees

Pairing: (eventual) Satoru Gojo x F!Reader Content: canon-compliant, canonical character death, we got some fluff, some angst, slow burn, Reader is Yuji's Aunt, Gojo refers to Reader as Sweets Word Count: 4.2k Thicker Than Water Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

A/N: ah finally, the first chapter. . . it's not perfect but I wanted to finally post it after it's been sitting in my drafts for the last few months. Be sure to like, reblog and comment! Hopefully I'll be posting the next chapter in a week~

“I’m going to be late again! Shit, I really am dead this time.”

Words are powerful within Jujutsu society. Sorcerers with cursed speech can use their words to curse others easily, but everyone can forget that curses can be born from human emotion.

“Can’t you see I’m doing this to protect you?”

Humans know that their words can hurt others, be used to stab others in the back, double down on a lie. But those non-sorcerers will never understand how their words can manifest, and fester into something that they could never imagine.

“Not even death will stop my love for you.”

It’s important for Jujutsu sorcerers to remember that their words also can be just as powerful as anyone else's words.

“Focus! Don’t miss the shot!!”

It’s something you have to remind yourself constantly because your family is cursed enough as it is.

. . . “You’re a strong kid, so try to help others.”

The sun brightens up the small hospital room, spreading its warmth. He hates when it gets like this. His eyes crack open slightly and immediately glares at the woman who opened the blinds. Once the blinds are fully open you turn and look at him, a teasing smile on your face.

“Hey old man! Glad to see you’re still kicking.”

He grumbles, “Shouldn’t you be at that school in Tokyo?”

You hum, contemplating. Walking over to the sink in his small room you grab a glass of water.

“I should be, however my students and I are about to go on a mission.” You hand the water to him, he takes it begrudgingly.

“Is that what you call your little wilderness retreats?” He says after having a small sip of water.

“You know they’re more than just 'wilderness retreats' old man.” He looks up at you as you straighten your posture.

He scoffs, “They’re dangerous, that's what they are! And don’t call me old man, you really should respect your elders.”

You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes. Still as stubborn as ever, you think.

“Either way, old man, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be gone for the next few weeks or so.” You walk around the space, tidying up the room from the last time you visited. “I’m monitoring my students so that they can grow as sorcerers.”

He coughs and you stop. He waves his hand, dismissing your concern and takes another drink of water, “I don’t care about what you do with your life-”

“Just don’t involve Yuji into jujutsu, I know Wasuke.” You walk over to the window and grab the flowers out of the vase that Yuji brought over from the other day. Wasuke opens his eyes a bit more now and notices the small frown on your face.

“It’s for his safety,” He grumbles, setting his water down.

“I know,” you look down at the wilted flowers, picking at some of the darkened petals. Ever since Yuji was born it was agreed upon by Wasuke and your sister that you and her would not use your cursed techniques around him.

While Jin and Wasuke were somewhat aware of curses, they couldn’t see them let alone fight them. They only had an awareness of cursed energy, having an unsettling feeling creep up their spine, a feeling of death, the urge to run to save your own life while you still could.

As you’ve gotten older and had joint custody of Yuji, that agreement your sister made with Wasuke extended to you. You only agreed to his terms when you realized that Yuji couldn’t see curses or wield cursed energy.

Since the day you held Yuji in your arms as a child you swore to protect him no matter what and despite only being 16 when you gained custody of him you did what you thought was right.

You sigh, “Aren’t your nurses supposed to check in with you?” You look at the clock in the room, “Like now-ish?”

Wasuke hummed, “They’re probably just yapping to each other about useless things.”

“Yapping?” You snicker.

He bristles, “That’s what those nurses do!” He crosses his arms and you can barely contain a laugh from how grumpy he looks. He gives you a sharp glare and you start chuckling, “Such a grouch as always. Never change.”

A quiet knock brings your attention to the nurse standing in the doorway, covering one end of the phone.

“Excuse me, Mr. Itadori, you have a call.” The nurse steps inside the room as you wave at her while smiling.

She smiles back before returning her attention to Wasuke getting closer to his bed, “It’s your grandson again, asking if you want him to bring-”

He starts yelling at the nurse, “Leave me alone! Tell him not to come here! He should go to his club!!” He attempts to snatch the phone out of her hands, “Go to his club!!”

“Damn old man! Always asking for respect and yet not even respecting those who take care of you,” You run to help the nurse deal with Wasuke but she just hands you the phone.

“I’ve got this, don’t worry,” She winks at you. You shake your head and bring the phone up to your ear.

“Yuji?”

“Oh hi Auntie!” You can sense his smile coming from his voice.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school, young man?” You jokingly ask.

“I am! I am! I’m just doing my usual call with Grandpa. Speaking of which you rarely visit him, what’s the occasion?”

“I’m going on a school trip with my students for a few weeks. I just wanted to give him a heads up,” Wasuke was finally relaxed enough for the nurse to start taking his vitals. “And I’m now giving you that same heads up.”

“Gotcha! I hope the trip goes well for you guys!”

“Thanks hon,” A small twinge of anxiety manifests in your chest as you notice a small frown on the nurse's face.

“And I know I say this all the time but make sure to call me immediately if anything happens. I’ll come over,” You snap your fingers, “like that.”

“Don’t worry Auntie! We’ll be fine.” You grimace at his assurance. Maybe you should talk to Yaga about moving the trip to next week. “I’ll make sure to keep my visits up with Grandpa.”

You try your best to not sound worried, “Alright Yuji, I’ll talk to you later. At this rate you will be late for your classes.”

“I know, I know! I’ll see ya later Auntie! Love ya-” And the line goes dead. As you bring the phone down from your ear the nurse walks up to you. You notice the grave look on her face and you try to not think too much about it.

“Miss, if I may, can we step outside and speak for a moment?”

You hand her back the phone. Shit. Maybe you will call Yaga.

“Of course, I need to head out anyway.” You give her a smile to try to relieve some of the tension. You glance over at Wasuke who has his eyes closed but his arms still crossed.

“Hey old man, I’m gonna head out now,” He gives you a squinted glare, “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, like die. alright?”

The nurse steps out of the room waiting for you outside. He keeps your gaze, “Hmph, no guarantees.”

It was your turn to glare right back, your voice firm, “Wasuke.”

He turns to face towards the window. Your shoulders deflate and you try your best to brush off your anxiety. As you start to walk outside he calls out your name. You stop just outside the door frame.

“Take care of Yuji when I’m gone,” He mutters, still not looking at you.

Before you leave you look back at him and smile, “You know I always do.”

You step out of the room and you feel like you’re able to breathe again. It’ll be okay, you try to reassure yourself, he’s just being his usual grouchy, asshole self-

“His lung cancer is worsening.” The nurse spits out.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry miss-” The girl begins to ramble and none of her words reach your ears. Your eyes glaze over and you nod along to whatever she’s telling you at this point. At least his death won’t be from a curse, you thank whatever God granted this to happen. You focus on your breathing and try to pay attention to what the nurse is saying.

“-in a stable condition right now, but I’m not sure for how much longer.”

“Well if he uses his call button then you’ll know,” You try to joke, she doesn’t smile.

“We’ll give you a call if anything happens,” And you nod your head and you try to think of what to do next. Your movements out of the hospital are mechanical and don’t feel right. Your legs are moving on their own and the sinking feeling in your chest hasn’t left yet. With a blink of your eyes you go from outside the hospital to standing on a train platform waiting for the next train into Tokyo.

Come on focus, you reason with yourself. There’s no need to get worked up now when nothing has happened. Once the train arrives you walk on to the nearest car doors that open and miss the two individuals who get off a few cars ahead of you, but one of them looks over at you.

The small smile that graces his lips is unmistakable and the smile turns into a smirk. His student keeps walking away so he’s unable to call out to you with a snarky remark. He’ll have to save it once he recovers that cursed object the Elders keep hounding him about.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

“You can’t be serious Sensei!”

“Bonito flakes!!”

“We don’t need you to chaperone us, we’ll just leave on our own!”

“Guys!!” You wave your arms and your three students settle down. . . barely.

Panda is the one to break the silence first, “Why are you canceling our mission? Aren’t those second grade curses still in Sakata?”

“Salmon” Inumaki nods in agreement.

“I’m not canceling your mission outright, it’s just-”

Maki speaks up, “We don’t need your supervision. We’ve gone on missions by ourselves before. Why do you need to come?”

“Due to the sightings of multiple second grade curses in one area I need to at least supervise.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “While I know you all are used to working together, I suggested to Yaga that-”

“You suggested?!” Maki gawks, “You’re worse than Gojo sometimes.”

Your eyes widen and you go slack-jawed. She did not just-

“Tu-na!’

“Maki!”

“I’m just saying! We’re strong enough to take care of ourselves, don’t you guys agree?”

“I do, but Maki you can’t just say that about Sensei! She’s nothing like Gojo.”

“And thank God for that.” You mutter and Inumaki smiles.

“I just don’t see why she needs to watch us all of a sudden.”

“Is it a crime to see how my students are progressing? I want to see the improvement myself.” You cross your arms and straighten your stance trying to regain control.

Maki pushes the hilt of her naginata on the ground in frustration. A small puff of dust is swept up into the air.

“You can’t see it during our sparring practices?” Maki’s eyes meet yours in a fiery gaze, your eyes don’t leave hers. Damn her stare is intense!

“I can, but watching you fight a curse in real time is different than in practice. . . you all know that much.” Panda and Inumaki nod their heads in agreement, Maki looks away with disdain.

You place a hand on Maki’s shoulder and she looks up at your calm expression, “I want to make sure you’re implementing the techniques I’m teaching you in practice. If they aren’t working then we’ll try something different.”

“I had to go on three different missions with Hakari and Hoshi before I figured out what type of combat worked best for them. It’s important to not be reliant on one type of fighting, it becomes a weakness if you can’t defend yourself another way. That’s why I want to oversee your mission.”

Maki still doesn’t look pleased but with the way her eyes softened you can tell she accepted your answer.

“So how long are we waiting?” She asks.

“We’re leaving tomorrow rather than tonight,”

Panda smiles, “Oh that’s nothing! I thought we weren’t going on that mission for a few months.”

“Mustard leaf?”

“Oh it’s nothing really,” you lie but when you see the side eye that Inumaki, Panda, and Maki give you you sigh in defeat. It’s been a long enough day and you can already feel the headache coming on.

“Alright, if you must know, a family member of mine is about to pass and I want to make sure my nephew is in a good spot before we head off on the mission.”

A bird call breaks through the silence as you start to move away from the training grounds. The evening sun is slowly setting, giving reprieve from the heat of the day.

It was rare for you to mention your family to anyone at Jujutsu High, only Yaga knew about them and even then he barely knew anything. The three students look at each other trying to search for what to say next.

Panda quietly speaks up, “You have a nephew?”

“I do,” A smile creeps onto your face as you remember your call with him earlier.

“I guess he can’t see curses then?”

“As always, you are correct Maki. He’s just. . .” you stop walking and look up trying to find the right word, “. . .human.”

A harsh tone rings out disrupting the tranquil calm.

“Excuse me for a moment,” You hold your hand out to the three apologetically as you bring your phone up to your ear. You move away from your students walking out of their earshot but you can hear whispers of what they’re saying.

“Do you think-?” Panda starts.

“It’s possible.” Maki finishes, the three of them try their best to overhear what the conversation is.

You take a quick breath to calm your nerves as you answer the call, “Hello?”

“Hey you actually picked up for once!” You gotta be fucking kidding me-

“Gojo?” you ask exasperated.

“Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me~” his voice sings out.

You roll your eyes, “Hardly, why are you calling me?”

“Can’t I just talk to you without needing a reason?”

“No Gojo.”

“Ugh you’re no fun like this!” What did he just-? Wait, don't engage, it will only raise your blood pressure. You can hear the bustling street sounds from his end of the call.

“Aren’t you supposed to be retrieving that cursed object? You wouldn’t shut up about it at last night’s meeting.”

“I sent Megumi to retrieve it for me, although now that you mention it.” You overhear Gojo talking to a street vendor before talking to you, “It has been a while since I’ve seen him, I better call to make sure he’s okay.”

“Glad I can help you with that.” You speak with little enthusiasm.

“Buuuuuuuut I’ll call him in a bit,” You can hear his smile, “For now I’m talking to you Sweets.”

“Satoru-” you warn.

“Which flavor of kikufuku did you want again?” He interrupts.

“What?” He can’t be serious.

“Flavor, Sweets,” Annoyed with having to repeat himself, “Which did you want?”

He is serious. Panda and Inumaki are slowly creeping closer towards you trying to be as quiet as possible but they’re failing. You’ll work on stealth training when you all get back from the mission. You take a few more steps away from them and you hear a frustrated groan out of Panda.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and mutter, “You need to get that cursed object dumbass, not sending Megumi to do your job and getting kikufuku!”

“I just wanted to be sure-” A ringtone interrupts his voice. Finally a chance to get off this call.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Your voice drips mockingly, “Someone more important is calling,”

“Wait- more important? Who’s calling you-?!”

You hang up his call without answering his question and bring your phone up with the new call, “Hello?”

“Hello is this-?”

You recognize the sound of her voice- “Yes this is she.”

“Hello Miss, I’m one of the nurses here at Sugisawa Hospital and I just wanted to call to inform you that Wasuke Itadori has passed.”

The silence that fills the air is deafening, which is surprising considering the call you just had with Gojo. Your head hangs low as a sad smile forms on your face.

“I see,” your brow furrows and wonder if Yuji was there when it happened?

“Yes, he actually was the one to alert us of it happening,” did you just say that outloud?

“He’s even filling out some of the paperwork on your behalf as of this moment.”

Inumaki points, “Tuna, tuna.” Panda and Maki turn to see you walking back towards them, determined.

“Yes, I understand. Thank you for the call, I’ll be on the next train to Sendai in just a few moments.” You hang up the call and look at your students. They’ve never seen this side of you. There’s a fire behind your eyes, face stern as you pocket your phone in your pocket..

“I’ll see you all later tomorrow when I’ll meet you on the train to Sakata. Your train is going to leave in the morning, I’ll get on at Sendai.” You tell them voice unwavering. They nod their heads and notice the small trail of cursed energy starting to build from your legs.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Sensei.” Panda says and you smile.

“Don’t be, at least he had an honorable death.” And before they could say goodbye you’re gone.

Flashes of greenery pass by as you sprint through Japan. It’s been about a year since you’ve had to travel this long of a distance using your technique. It’s worth it to get more stamina and test your limits.

With your technique you’re able to manipulate your own blood stream. By manipulating your blood you’re able to greatly increase the amount of oxygen your body needs for your blood cells. It’s something you learned when you were first using your technique.

With this you’re able to run much faster than any human possibly could, and that’s even without using cursed energy. You remember Gojo taking you to see some X-Men movie and he pointed to Quicksilver saying “Hey that’s just like you! Except you know he’s better cuz he doesn’t have to use cursed energy to get even faster he’s just that fast alrea-”. You punched him for that.

The distance is starting to get to you though. After 40 minutes you reach Sendai and you’re out of your reserve of stored cursed energy. Gasping for breath, you run towards the hospital and go up the stairs to the level they kept Wasuke on. The floor is practically deserted and feels very liminal. The hum of the hospital lights and a nurse typing on a computer are the only things you can hear.

“Pardon me,” You walk up to the nurse at the front desk, “I was told that there might be some paperwork to fill out. I’m Wasuke Itadori’s daughter-in-law.”

The nurse looks up at you and smiles. You try your best to smile back but something feels wrong; like there’s a curse nearby but you can’t feel any cursed energy. Maybe it’s the totem they use at the hospital.

“I remember seeing you here earlier today, I am sorry for your loss. Wasuke was a good man.”

You want to laugh but instead say, “Grumpy as all hell though.”

“True,” The nurse looks back at her computer and types. “So looking through the records here there’s just one thing Yuji didn’t fill out.”

“Only one?”

“Yes, do you happen to know how Mr. Itadori wanted his body to be. . .” She trails off and looks at her computer to avoid your gaze. These weren’t easy conversations to have and you can understand why she didn’t want to ask Yuji this question.

You nod solemnly, “Cremation please.”

She nods back and types it into the system, “I just need your signature.”

You sign for it and the nurse gives you one more smile, “Perfect, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” You turn to leave but quickly turn back to the nurse, “I meant to ask when I first came in, but do you happen to know where Yuji is?”

The nurse thinks for a moment, her face scrunched up in concentration.

“If I remember correctly,” She looks at you, “Yuji was talking to someone who was wearing something similar to you; he mentioned something about curses and Yuji’s club then they left.”

Anxiety builds in your chest, so you were feeling cursed energy earlier. You need to focus.

“Thank you,” You barely say as you rush out the door. Once you get outside you start heading towards the direction of Yuji’s school or at least you think you’re heading in the right direction. You only visit during holidays and even then you’re sometimes held up due to missions.

Focus, you try your best to find a trail from the cursed object. It’s faint but it’s strong enough to follow. You imbue your run with cursed energy and make it to his school in record time.

The school reeks of death- You can sense Fushiguro and three humans inside so as you near the gate you just hop over it, adrenaline now taking over.

A protective sense washes over you and your cursed energy increases. You travel up the stairs skipping over every other step trying to sense where specifically these curses were. Making it to the fourth floor you can overhear, “NUE!” before the curse crashes through the walls, going outside.

You run towards the rubble and try to look out the gaping hole the curse made but you can’t see outside.

“Help-” You barely hear it due to the commotion just a few feet away from you but you see two of Yuji’s classmates, one unconscious and the other fighting to stay awake on the ground.

“I got you, don't worry.” You pick them up the best you can without causing more harm, “What are your names?”

“Setsuko Sasaki and he’s-” She chokes out a sob.

“He’s gonna be alright, focus on your breath.” You tell Sasaki and she tries her best.

“He’s Takashi Iguchi-” Sasaki whimpers before- THUMP! “You idiot-!”

You need to get them out of here now and kill the curse that Fushiguro is dealing with.

“Alright Sasaki, I’m going to take you both to the hospital. I need you to close your eyes for me alright. It’ll only take me a minute.”

She barely nods her head and once her eyes are closed you instantly sprint them both back to the hospital you were at a mere 5 minutes ago.

You wish you had the time to stay and make sure they would be okay but as soon as a couple nurses take them from your arms you tell them the kid’s names and you sprint back to the school.

I’m not gonna make it-

The second you return to the school, the strong cursed energy presence is gone but there’s two sources of energy coming from the school Fushiguro and. . . ? Confused, you work your way back up to where the curse broke through the wall. You can suddenly feel Gojo’s presence but that still doesn’t explain the other cursed energy output you feel. CRASH!

You step outside of the gaping hole and run up towards Fushiguro who’s holding a bag.

“Fushiguro!” As you run towards him, you notice he doesn’t seem to realize you're there. You look up towards the ongoing fight and you pale.

. . . Sukana? But-?

“Ah Sweets! I was wondering when you would show up,” Gojo says while fighting Sukana with ease. You feel like you’re going to throw up. Gojo punches Sukana away from where you and Fushiguro are. Once Sukana gains his footing he starts running towards you all.

“You Jujutsu sorcerers are always such a pain in the ass in any era!” Sukana yells out as he uses his cursed energy to destroy the ground you’re standing on. You close your eyes to brace for impact but you never feel it. As the dust settles Gojo has his hand up using his Infinity to keep you all safe. The last thing you hear is Gojo counting to 10.

Sukana stands frozen in place and his eyes close. His head bobs right back up and you really are going to throw up. You feel like you’re underwater and can’t breathe. This cannot be happening-

“Auntie? What are you doing here-?” Gojo puts his fingers up to Yuji’s head and knocks him out.

Before Gojo could question what Yuji just said, you suddenly drop to your knees, tears welling up in your eyes.

Yuji is Sukana’s vessel. You. . .

failed.

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐬 (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠!) - 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. idiots in love. mild angst. fluff. happy ending. attempt at humor. plot with a side of porn. the timeline is mostly accurate. max verstappen is an oblivious idiot. daniel ricciardo is an obvious idiot. 5+1 things (in a way). the three musketeers: charles, pierre, and lando. light praise kink. light dom/sub undertones. mild orgasm delay/denial. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 9.5k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: max verstappen x daniel ricciardo

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: so....how's life been treating y'all while i disappeared for two months :) ? no, um, sorry for ghosting you guys; i know, i'm surprised that i didn't forget my login info. life started being life for a good amount of time and i got really sucked into school and work. aside from the boring everyday stuff, i've got an internship this summer (yay!), i'm pretty sure i have a bit of a mutual-crush with this boy in my morning lecture, and i've started playing final fantasy sixteen.

anyways, this is my longest work ever! and i'm dedicating it to one of my sweetest betas, bianca. you requested this long before my disappearing act in december, and i told you i was nearly finished with a 6k-word fic for your request. to make up for my unexplained absence, i rewrote the entire thing into a near ten-thousand word feel-good masterpiece.

i hope this fic is of good enough quality for all of you wonderful f1-stans to forgive me because, i'm back, and hopefuily here to stay lol. enjoy reading, loves < 3.

requested & written by/for @biancathecool

join taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents↻

milton keynes, red bull racing headquarters, pre-season 2023

daniel looks happy. max doesn’t know why that surprises him—maybe he’s projecting his emotions (his therapist says he does that quite often) onto the man. the surprise makes sense though, max thinks, as he watches the australian chatter away with the engineers, the largest toothy smile spread across his face like he never left red bull behind in 2018. if it were max who had gone through the mclaren bullshit along with not having a guaranteed seat for the upcoming 2023 season, and he had to settle for a third driver position: he would scourge the world with his fury.

but: it’s not max, it’s daniel. it’s daniel, who was warmly welcomed back into navy blue (papaya did not suit him), it’s daniel, who doesn’t snap at the marketing team when they ask how he’s “coping” with not being on the grid. it’s daniel, who becomes friends with checo easily. it’s daniel, who’s scheduled to fulfill the pr activities that the two red bull drivers refuse to complete. it’s daniel, who has clocked in insane hours in the sim and factory while max has been enjoying his off-season.

it’s daniel, who hasn’t shown any signs of disappointment about not having a seat this year.

if he won’t show or admit it, max will. having a race weekend without daniel doesn’t feel right. max knows this, even though the season hasn’t started yet: he’s going to be miserable. it’s like when daniel left him the team. of course, max had pushed daniel away after he signed with renault. what was he supposed to do? react calmly with the emotional intelligence he didn’t have? max thought the man hated him when he didn’t tell him that he was leaving before the news was released.

regardless, instead of the australian leaving, this time around he’s coming back, which max had originally believed was the best thing to ever happen. he’s not so sure of that anymore. daniel belongs in the car chasing him with the smell of burning rubber and petrol surrounding them. max doesn’t appreciate how the smell of race tracks has already disappeared from him. he could tell it was missing when daniel made a show of giving max the biggest hug as soon as he stepped foot in the factory.

maybe this time, the natural distance between them concerning their now different job requirements would help max get over his small, miniscule, tiny, fractional, microscopic, miniature, little, itty-bitty crush on daniel. it didn’t work the first time, when younger-max had avoided his ex-teammate like the plague after his move to a different team—if anything that absence made his heart ache for daniel more, even though he tried his hardest to hate him. so now, maybe that max isn’t the one causing the growing gap between him and daniel, this space might dissolve max’s fondness.

“max, kid,” christian waves a hand in front of max’s face with an unimpressed look, “did you hear a single thing i said or were you too distracted by the sight of daniel in red bull gear again?”

the tips of max’s ears redden, and he snaps his head away from where it was turned to watch daniel’s constant smile, to face his team principal. max doesn’t know what he was thinking; his crush is going nowhere.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑.

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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MASTERLIST: O-Z by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: part two of my masterlist!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

esteban ocon (eo31)

the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)

the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.

ditty and estie greet the world, fic: diana 'ditty' ocon looked so much like her namesake but act more like her father with her shyness.

pato o'ward (po29)

caught 'em lacking, smau: diwa arellano is mclaren f1's social media admin. so what if her constant teasing of oscar bites her in the ass and accidentally posts something that could potentially compromise her job? meanwhile, lando and oscar laugh at her demise while pato finds it endearing.

yapping and lacking, smau: people are slowly catching onto pato and diwa's connections during the winter break, when mclaren released their own podcast. ★

sergio perez (sp11)

she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.

oscar piastri (op81)

lomi and the piastri fiasco (filo!gen z!ofc)

jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.

live tweets, japan and all that romance fiasco, smau: how oscar's podium win in the japanese gp led to the revelation of his relationship with carlos sainz's in-law, paloma. lesson learned: just call her "pal" then she'll spill the tea for the both of you easily (f, h)

lucky charms, qatar and all that romance fiasco, smau: oscar is quite a forgetful guy, he forgot to mention to carlos, his future in-law, that paloma was his sprint lucky charm. (f)

long distance, england and all that romance fiasco, smau: paloma moved to england a year after enduring a long distance relationship with oscar.

extra: birthdays, manila and all that romance fiasco: before the japanese grand prix week, oscar had his own birthday party held in jollibee - a dream come true for him, really. ★

other pieces

12345sex, smau: oscar is secretly freaky and mercury nicoletta had to show him off at some point.

kimi raikkonen (kr7)

stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)

someone's dad, socmed snapshot: kimi being the coolest dad, a series.

daniel ricciardo (dr3)

✿ rush smau series - daniel ricciardo x ofc (lester alessandro) ★

other pieces

leaked, smau: daniel ricciardo is a borderline blabbermouth. (filo!ofc)

when danny said, smau: daniel + sadie samuels = it feels just right. (country singer!ofc) ★

george russell (gr63)

his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.

she's magic (youtuber!singer!ofc)

the multifaceted gf and her pets, smau: arabella 'ara' elgin is multitalented and her haters couldn't do much about it as she released a new song about her relationship with george.

carlos sainz jr. (cs55)

two worlds entangling (filipino!ofc)

ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)

dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated), fic: no matter what cultural context and backstories, magda and carlos' souls were entwined into one all thanks to the languages of love that they shared. OR times when the spanish and filipino defined their love in many languages. (f) ♡

logan sargeant (ls2)

he's her lobster, smau: eugenia 'genie' newton + logan sargeant = mondler (h)

mick schumacher (ms47)

big mick energy series (x filo!ofc)

she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)

"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)

who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try. (feat. arthur leclerc)

kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie. ♡

the vibing allan and the reluctant ken, smau: for mick, there are only two words to describe his girlfriend's best friend arthur: a headache. OR arthur leclerc is a third wheel that mick always get on a fight with. thankfully, barbie had fair experiences with boys who are petulant and childish at times (kimi and seb)

barbie and the schuminis

mick multiplied, socmed snapshot: girl dad!mick that's all

the little schuminis, fic: 4 times when mick showed his devotion + 1 time his devotion paid off

lance stroll (ls18)

gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?

diors and diecasts, socmed snapshot: lance stroll is sassy but so was his carbon copy. OR according to him, his son was a victim of the only child apocalypse. he also said that while buying his son everything he could get his hands on.

yuki tsunoda (yt22)

line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.

chaos family, socmed snapshot: yuki is a dad to the little mini yukis known as hana and shin.

all-american bitch, smau: some people didn't like pia's blunt and genuinely straightforward personality. that's too bad. ★

max verstappen (mv1)

✿ to loathe and to love series - max verstappen x hearth sister!ofc (sylvie ford) ♡

to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)

lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)

the purple chronicle (x ferrari!ofc)

paint him red, smau: alfrieda 'dina' ferrari is the only woman who can mark him as a ferrari fan - and he was quite alright with that.

sebastian vettel (sv5)

✿ sweet rich life, smau + fics series masterlist - sebastian vettel x ofc (bel ong) ★

mark webber (mw2)

the problem with following orders, smau: lydia 'liddy' vettel was what everyone considered 'a revenge best served cold.' of course that was a joke, it wasn't entirely either of their fault they were too drawn at each other. (g, h) ♡

toto wolff

✿ colour me your colour series masterlist - toto wolff x hearth sister!ofc (tilly marie hearth) series

colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)

the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)

the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)

the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.

the paddock's iconic team owners, smau: toto and tilly wolff are considered the king and the queen of formula one for a good reason.

the arrow and the bull speared through the hearth, fic: tia wolff learned a lot from her papa and uncle christian, and tilly had to teach them a lesson too. (h)

the paddock's drive to survive, smau: in which, toto's wife tilly became a part of the season six of the netflix series 'drive to survive'. OR everyone believed her to be a part of big controversies in the formula one season of 2023.

#tbt, socmed snapshot: too many throwbacks, so little time.

other pieces

twentieth sommer of love, smau: toto wolff celebrated his 20 years of marriage with his childhood friend/wife and their four kids. OR everyone wondered why irish sommer was referred to as 'the bitch of the runway.' (supermodel!ofc)

formula equals endurance, smau: tomi roxas became the biggest name in the f1 drivers' market when she announced her retirement from world endurance championship. the problem? everyone's linking her up to a certain austrian that she's had a crush for years. ★ (driver!ofc)

f1 drivers (general / multiple pairing)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

✿ f1 voicemail blurbs - series of blurbs with voicemails left by the drivers. ★

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were...

#formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one au #formula one masterlist #formula 1 masterlist #f1 masterlist #f1 series #formula one series

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lyingbard · 1 year ago

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Why Nothing Sounds Quite Like LyreBird

Fans of RTVS may remember Joshua, beautiful baby boy of wayneradiotv. If you're like me, you might be wondering why Joshua stayed dead after LyreBird shut down. Why couldn't he be brought back with a different TTS? The fact is that LyreBird was a product of a very specific time in AI TTS. In March 2017, Google released a paper on Tacotron [1], one of the first AI TTS's with real success. In April 2017, LyreBird began showing off their TTS buisness [2]. As AI bros are wont to do they took that shit. LyreBird is a version of Tacotron. It incorporates technologies that would be published in the next few Tacotron papers [3] including multi-speaker, prosody encoding, and prosody prediction. And in February 2018, Tacotron 2 came out [4].

Tacotron 2 is better in every way. It's faster, better at imitation, and simpler. This makes it much more economical to run and fine-tune on a specific speaker, so every subsequent AI TTS is based off of Tacotron 2.

If you read the paper, Tacotron 1 has a lot of arbitrary and untested choices. It's clear that they published it in a hurry to prove that it could be done, but they hadn't refined it to cut the unnecessary fluff.

This brings me to why I'm writing this. I hope it's clear that I did a lot of research for this. That's because I did my best to recreate LyreBird, named LyingBard, and I've put it up for you to play with here.

You may notice though that it's not quite right. The main reason is that I had to go with a low quality version (reduction factor 5 for those who read the paper). A high quality version would take too long to train with my current set up and I'm almost certain that's what they used.

If I got about $100 in donations, I'm pretty sure I could get a high quality version trained in about a month. It still wouldn't sound exactly the same. Due to the chaotic nature of training a neural network, anything short of getting the actual files off LyreBird (now Descript's) servers won't make it sound exactly the same.

Regardless, LyingBard is here to stay. It's hosted on a free server so I have no reason to take it down. I'll be posting about updates here on this blog. I'm working towards getting custom voices ready at the moment and I've got some ideas for new features and fun toys for the future.

Thanks for reading!

Here's some sources if you wanna learn more about stuff I mentioned:

[1] https://arxiv.org/abs/1703.10135

[2] https://www.pcmag.com/news/lyrebird-can-listen-and-copy-any-voice-in-one-minute

[3] https://google.github.io/tacotron/

[4] https://arxiv.org/abs/1712.05884

#fubai #lyingbard #ai tts #rtvs #rtvs joshua #lyrebird ai #rtvsai

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37sommz-archive · 8 months ago

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✼. VICTORIOUS | 2018.

CH. 03. NOW PLAYING: tio by zayn [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela keeps winning, 2.2k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀JULY 01, 2018 — spielberg, austria

“Though it is dry here in Austria, it seems as if the Sommer Rain will never let up.”

“She won in Baku, in Barcelona, and in France. Now, here in Austria, across the finish line, it’s Michaela Sommers who secures her fourth win this season.”

“They called for her to answer to the legend of Lella ‘76, and she has responded in kind. Michaela Sommers extends her lead in the Formula 2 Championship with double wins in both races here this weekend.”

“The current placements, as they stand, are Sommers in first, Russell in second, and Norris in third.”

“Mickey!” The trance Michaela found herself in was quickly broken by the sound of her nickname pouring from the left of her.

“They’re all out for the formation lap… headphones?”

Shaking herself from her staring at the track, her hands fell to the red headphones thrust out to her by a Ferrari engineer—one whom she couldn’t quite remember the name of—and lifted them to cover her ears. Her feet bringing her closer to the large monitors adorning the garage fell to a stop as the crackle of Sebastian Vettel’s voice echoed in her ears. As he cleared the radio check, her arms crossed over her chest; the yellow of the Ferrari logo contrasting with the black of her team jacket.

Her duties to the team as a reserve driver demanded every bit of her attention the minute she stepped out of her red Prema car, her mind immediately shifting to the red Ferrari cars of Vettel and Raikkonen as they took their second-row places. Eager to learn from the two veteran drivers, Michaela had found herself tagging along to every meeting possible. She leaned in closer when they complained about the back tires or the steering and her eyes tracked their wings as they drew in and out of the breadth of Hamilton and Verstappen. Her focus on the twists and turns of the Austrian Grand Prix only relieved itself once she saw Kimi and Sebastian pass the checkered flag—second and third, respectively.

As they always did at the end of the race, her hands shook from the concentrated energy rushing through her body. One of the engineers—she knew his name, he was much friendlier than most of his coworkers—nudged her shoulder to tease her about the tremble.

“You shake as if you had raced yourself.” His eyes sparkled in amusement as he spoke to her—they always did, as Kimi had once casually pointed out to her.

“It’s all the anticipation,” She easily responded. “I wish I was the one driving.”

He chose not to respond this time, his cheeks taking on a blush that deterred his speaking.

In the few months she had spent in and around the Ferrari garage Kimi had taken to pointing out every person he perceived to have any romantic inclination towards the Australian. She would roll her eyes, mutter something about types, and hope he would let it go. If he noticed her discomfort he never commented on it, simply shifting the topic to one about engines or advice for her next race.

Sebastian was much different. Taking a liking for teasing the Australian every chance he got, Michaela had previously likened him to a friend’s older brother. Effortlessly relaxed with seemingly nothing else to do but find the humor in every situation presented to him. Blue eyes would meet her brown ones from across the room, corners crinkling in mischief before she could fully process the situation before her.

In those few months that the three of them had shared gentle conversation, Sebastian had regularly urged Michaela to take in every moment for what it was. To relax in the company of others who understood her anticipation to hurtle down a gravel track at 200 miles per hour.

Kimi would rest an icy hand on her shoulder, squeezing once then twice in a signal. He would lean over to whisper, “Your shoulders are too high”, before retreating to whatever shadow he had occupied in the distance.

She knew they meant well; both champions in their own right and well aware of her own ambitions to hoist the winner’s cup over her head. But Michaela has never been relaxed.

She doesn’t think she ever will.

✼.⠀JULY 07, 2018 — silverstone, england

The champagne underneath Michaela’s shoes squeaked as it stuck to the linoleum beneath her. Wincing at the sound, her hands steadied themselves on the pristine corner leading to the Prema quarters. Roaring cheers of “Brava!” and “Complimenti!” continued to ring in her ears as the hall grew quieter, drifting away from the continued celebrations of the scarlet team. Her head was swimming in victory and her mouth was cotton-balled from the neverending Italian phrases of gratitude and appreciation.

Finally reaching the changeroom, her race suit pulled together at her waist fell to the floor with the softest of thuds. Incapable of taking anything slowly, Michaela’s hands rushed to rid herself of the champagne-soaked fireproofs. Swapping the red of the Prema suit for the red of her Ferrari polo and her favorite blue jeans, she exited the stall with a gentle sigh. Passing her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her tanned face. Catching a glimpse of the annoying mismatch in shades from one side of her shoulder to the other, those eager hands brushed through the controlled chaos of her honey-blonde bleached hair.

Rushing back down the hall to Ferrari’s garage, her eyes spotted the lights of a camera crew standing in between herself and the entrance.

Shit.

The gentlest of forced smiles fastened to the corners of her dry lips as she attempted to sneak past. Her hopes to evade the crew without detection were made futile as soon as the producer standing in front of the host made direct eye contact with her. The smile grew wider—her discomfort pure and shining—as her brown eyes begged the producer’s equally dark ones for mercy.

Before she could open her mouth to rattle off some bullshit excuse that only another driver would be able to understand, the producer—Aaron, she remembered his name—clapped his hands together, startling her before a groan slipped from her lips. Locked in a silent argument, Aaron was the first to break the silence.

“Michaela,” Eyes peering into hers as if in a warning. “You owe me this.”

Feigning innocence she whispered lowly, “I’ve got no idea what you mean, Aaron.”

His prim English accent was firm with sincerity as he took a moment to remind her with a tired, “France?” Receiving another sigh from the Australian girl, Aaron nodded as if emitting an obviously from his pursed lips. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he called over the host—the identity of whom was still unknown to Michaela.

“Michaela, you’ll be having a quick chat with Jenson. He’s just joined the Sky team for this season,” Stopping himself to clap a hand onto the blonde Brit’s shoulder and to issue a warning glance towards the starry-eyed Aussie, he continues. “Be your normal bright self, put him at ease, it’s his first day.”

The emphasis on ‘normal’ is not lost on Jenson who chuckles at the warning. At a loss for words, Michaela pulls in a bated breath, eyes transfixed on the 2009 World Champion.

“Go easy on me?”

Blue eyes sparkle as they finally meet her brown ones. All words seem to fail her, that familiar rush of eagerness subsides as she takes him in.

Of all the things to notice about the former driver—the high peak of the bridge of his nose, the sharp lines of his hair, or the wolfish tilt of his lips—the feature Michaela can’t seem to pull her attention from is the spray of sun-tanned freckles laid across his cheeks. The freckles—and the unadorned, noticeably pale band of his left ring finger—are sure to haunt her as she finally finds the trust in herself to respond to the plea of grace.

“For you? How could I be anything but easy?”

If she was unaware of how desperate the words sounded as they fell off her two-toned lips, Aaron made sure to point it out to her. A clear of his throat covering the chuckle released from the back of his throat made sure to cut the present tension between the two drivers.

“Pick your good side and get it over with,” His words are choppy as he motions for the cameramen to take their places, “Please?”

The plea, whiny with exasperation is finally the thing to sever Jenson’s attention from the pink tinge hiding underneath the roundness of Michaela’s cheeks. With a quirk of his head and the offer of a red Sky Sports microphone, Michaela’s hands are still as her heart beats with an anticipation foreign to her own body.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 25, 2018 — abu dhabi, united arab emirates

The last round of the Formula 2 Championship had passed by in a blur. The strobe lights catching onto the obnoxious trophy—with her name on it—seated in the middle of the table only added to the massive headache clearing any and every thought in her mind. Unsure of George’s whereabouts, Michaela downed a massive gulp of the mystery drink in her hand.

“Any plans before the next season?” Alex’s words slurred together into one big nearly incomprehensible sentence. Lando, seated on the other side of Michaela, giggled incessantly before answering on behalf of the newly crowned champion.

“You should try getting laid!” Dark eyes cut across to glare at him before they both fell into a shared giggle. Alex, dissatisfied by the lack of response from the Australian’s lips, whined impatiently.

“C’mon, Mick, answer me.”

“You talk funny when you’re drunk—” She continued giggling as Lando joined in imitating the oldest amongst the three. “Mickey!” He whined once more, face buried in his hands dramatically.

“Fine!”

She hummed to herself, much livelier with the endless flow of alcohol coursing through her.

“Lando’s right…” She pouted as if coming across an epiphany. “I should get laid.”

Alex shook his head as he turned to face her once more.

“You can’t get laid yet!”

Confusion gripped the two younger drivers, hanging on to his every word.

“If you get laid, Lando’ll be the only virgin on the grid.” He could barely get the words out without a stumble of laughter.

A rumble of a laugh released itself from Michaela as she threw her head back in amusement. The driver beside her grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he stood up with a jerk. The mutter of an excuse to grab another drink fell on lost ears as Michaela and Alex took their turn to share a laugh.

Just as soon as Lando left, his spot on the couch was taken by Pierre. The Frenchman threw a sluggish arm over Michaela’s shoulder before planting an exaggerated kiss on her temple, a “mwah!” ringing into her ears as she pushed him away.

“Mickey, félicitations, ma jolie!” His words were—impossibly—more slurred than Alex’s, clear his intoxication had impaired his ability to distinguish between English and French.

“Merci chouchou,” She responded through squished cheeks as the older driver pinched them together in his warm hands.

“Are you getting laid tonight? I have a few suggestions.” He nearly sang the words into the Australian’s ears, his arms wrapping around her affectionately—not unlike his sober mannerisms.

“We were just talking about that!” Alex spoke up excitedly before Michaela could reply. “I told her Carlos would be down but she said—”

“No! He fucks anything that walks.”

Michaela ripped herself from Pierre’s arms at Alex’s suggestion. Crossing her own arms, she began to pace in front of the couch. Reaching for Alex’s drink, Michaela fell into deep thought, carefully surveying the section before them. Full of drivers across formulae and whoever they deemed glamorous enough to join them in their drunken celebrations, it was a dark-haired man who caught her eye.

Recognizing the stillness in her stance, Pierre nudged a confused Alex before standing to join the younger woman.

“His name’s Olivier, he’s with Giovinazzi.”

Alex nodded, pushing his shoulder forward to nudge the shorter woman’s, “His trainer or something?”

Pierre’s response—whatever it was—were ultimately ignored by Michaela who simply took another large gulp of his drink before surging forward. The cheers of Pierre and Alex were matched with a confused Lando as he returned drinkless.

Making eye contact with the dark-haired man—Olivier—his smile worked to quickly spur Michaela on. A surge of confidence ran through her as Antonio, and the rest of his entourage boyishly roughed up the subject of Michaela’s confidence. With a push forward, he was suddenly eye-to-eye with the Australian driver.

His skin, nearly the same shade as her own, met hers with a heat so addictive Michaela swore she saw Eros.

His voice, slow and accented—French, she decided—tickled at her ear as he bent down to speak to her over the noise of the EDM.

His hands, lightning through her body grasping at her hips as she rocked above him late into the early morning.

His lips, were gentle like the calming patter of the rain against her spine as he slipped out of her bed, number scribbled on the hotel notepad, and a sweater marked with his scent left to lie next to her luggage.

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