#Help i'm going to suffocate by anxiety

[crepekato-3]

POV:When one of your siblings ate your last favourite snack/Food-

lmao,This is idea pop up on my mind and these are the 2012 turtels but humans.The AU isnt mine btw!! It belongs to @indieyuugure the Original AU of the 2012 turtels!!! Okey bye peace 🙃✌

[spiderb00]

- I SEE THROUGH YOU, M.S

"when things get a little too much, megan will always be there to catch you. Just as you always catch her"

warnings - fluff, and a bit of angst. Panic attack, megan is a sweetie, reader has anxiety (reader is me :/)

now playing - Vulnerable, by Dhruv

"baby, i'm falling into pieces in front of you."

The room was dark, bathed only by the moonlight that crept in like an intruder through the blinds. The humidifier Megan had bought a few days ago worked very well, almost like a relief from the hot Los Angeles nights. Your girlfriend's arm was comfortably draped over your stomach, and Megan's breathing was calm as she lay on your chest. 

Everything seemed like the perfect setting for a great night's sleep. But that wasn't what was happening to you tonight. 

You weren't sure when it all started, but when you and Megan lay down, ready to talk about what happened during the day until you fell asleep, you couldn't close your eyes like your girlfriend did. 

Everything you hadn't thought about for days, months, probably years, all those thoughts were now terrifying you, keeping your eyes open, preventing you from enjoying Megan's body pressed against yours. 

The whirlwind of thoughts was just the beginning. Unable to sleep as you really wanted to, your anxiety began to spread throughout your body. Now, Megan's cozy body felt heavy on top of you, your clothes seemed to slowly suffocate you, slowly cutting off your breath, and your whole body felt tingly. 

Breathing heavily, you moved, carefully removing Megan's body from yours. Quickly grabbing a pillow, you placed it comfortably in Megan's arms, replacing your warm body as you took quick, hurried steps to the bathroom. 

You didn't even bother to lock the door, crouching down behind it, hugging your knees and trying to control your breathing. Suddenly, that position was no longer comfortable, the hoodie seemed to be stuck to your skin, and with just one pull you removed it from your body. 

Sitting completely on the floor, your ears couldn't even pick up the knocking on the door, and when Megan turned the doorknob, all she could see was her girlfriend sitting on the floor, tears in your eyes as you appeared to be having a panic attack. 

"Bub..." The girl quickly knelt in front of you. "Hey, hey, look at me!" 

Gently cupping your face, Megan caught a glimpse of your red cheeks and teary eyes. The moonlight did a great job of exposing all your fragility. 

"Breathe with me." 

You looked at your girlfriend's collarbone, trying to mimic the speed at which her chest rose and fell. Having Megan's hands on your face still seemed to overwhelm you, so you gently grabbed her hands with yours.  

"It's okay, I'm here." 

Gradually, your breathing synchronized with the Chinese girl's, beginning to stabilize. Megan's face looked slightly relieved, but the hint of concern was still etched on her face. 

"Did you get overwhelmed during your sleep, babe?" She asked calmly. 

"I couldn't sleep." Exhaling deeply, you replied, placing Megan's hands on your chest. "Everything felt so suffocating, like I was going to die." 

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Raising her hand, Megan reached for the sink beside you, turning on the tap just to wet her hand. 

"You were so tired when you got home, I didn't want to bother you." Her wet hand caressed your hair and forehead, making you sigh with relief. 

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Her lips found your forehead, kissing it gently, as if you would break if she pressed any harder. 

"No, I just don't want to sleep in the same position we were sleeping in..." You said in a whisper. "Does that make sense?" 

"Of course it does!" Megan's hand found yours, pulling you and leading you to the bedroom. "How about we sleep with our feet at the head of the bed? Do you think that would help?" 

Your girlfriend's understanding smile made you melt. You had always helped Megan with her anxiety, but you had never been one to share your vulnerable side. You knew the girl already had too many problems to deal with, but you couldn't help admitting that being cared for by her filled your heart with love.  

Grabbing the sides of Megan's face, you left a kiss on the pink-haired girl's lips, taking her by surprise. Sighing, Megan melted immediately, resting her hands on your bare waist. Her hands were warm, and for a moment, you thought you could stay there forever. 

"I love you," you said, moving slightly away from the girl. 

"I love you," Megan pulled you, lying down with you.  

Looking at the ceiling, the shorter girl quickly sat up on the mattress, taking off your shirt—which she wore to sleep—remembering how uncomfortable you would probably be with the fabric if you wanted to hug her.  

Lying down again, Megan grabbed your index finger, knowing that you liked contact, even when your brain wanted to reject it at all costs. She learned that grabbing your finger, without intertwining your hands, was one of the ways you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. 

But Megan's surprise came when you took the lead, intertwining your fingers with hers.  

"I think I'm starting to feel better." Looking at her, you smiled. "Thank you." 

"Please don't be afraid to be vulnerable with me, bub." 

The girl's words hit you deep in your chest. Knowing full well how you used to pretend to be tough in front of others.  

"Never." 

another short fic for you guys. i'm working on a longer, so i'll probably just send you these random thoughts that pop into my head :)

this fic is entirely based on me :/ sometimes i really have problems to sleep, and it actually happens to me. i wanted to write this not only for the idea, but in case someone can relate, idk. It's not a good thing, but it happens more than it should.

if you suffer from anxiety or anything else that disturbs your mental health, please look for a professional and take care of yourself, mental health is a serious subject, and it's not something to be put aside.

one of the things that also inspired me to write this was a video a few months ago of Megan, where she talked about mental health, and I thought “Man, this is confirmation that I have to write that fic!”

anyway, stay safe, drink water and take care of your mental health!

xoxo, spider.

[loveesiren]

𝖡𝖾𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖭𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾

Thanos x American!reader

a/n: hi my babies! so this is my first thanos (choi su-bong) fic i'm posting. however, i kind of wrote this as an aftermath of a little series i've been working on of them in the games. so, once i am done hating it and editing it, i will posit it! but i hope you guys enjoy this cute lil fluff. i suck at writing fluff tbh but i tried! xx also, t.o.p is my gwiyomiii, my honeyyyy, my angel babyyyyyyyyy! i'm so inlove with him so feel free to send requests!

synopsis: nightmares of the games still haunt Thanos a year later, but luckily Y/n will never leave his side.

warnings: language, fluff, very brief mention of sex if you squint

wc: 1.1k+

You couldn’t sleep. Insomnia had wrapped itself around your mind ever since surviving the games last year, a constant shadow in your otherwise bright new life. You had so much to be grateful for—making it out alive, the money that had saved you in more ways than one, and, of course, Su-Bong. Though, to this day, you still called him T. Your T.

Never in a million years would you have imagined living in a sleek penthouse in downtown Seoul with a man you fell in love with while playing deadly children’s games. Yet here you were, in a world that once seemed as unreachable as a dream: Thanos’ World. And you loved it.

The games had changed Thanos in ways you never thought possible. He quit the drugs, buried his oversized ego, and spent six months holed up in his apartment with only you for company. It was a metamorphosis you never expected but cherished deeply. When he finally emerged from that cocoon of self-reflection, he returned to music—his first true love. But this time, it wasn’t about sex, drugs, and wealth. His lyrics delved into the rawness of his childhood, the pain of his struggles, the weight of his dreams—and you. Always you. You were his muse.

Being with the Thanos, however, was far from simple. Going out with him was an ordeal, a gamble. Fans flocked to him wherever he went, now more than ever, since he’d announced his new album. He once thrived on the chaos, basking in the adoration of women throwing themselves at him and men idolizing him. He was a star, and he reveled in the glow. But now? Now the attention suffocated him. He avoided crowded places as much as he could, especially when you were by his side.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to show you off—God, he did. But the fear gnawed at him. What if something happened to you? What if someone hurt you? You’d already faced your fair share of vitriol when the media leaked that Thanos was dating some American girl. “American bitch,” they’d called you, throwing their venom your way in tabloids and comment sections. But the hate didn’t break you. If anything, it hardened your resolve.

You refused to let him hide away forever. When his anxiety tried to keep him tethered to the penthouse, you were the one who dragged him out into the world. You reminded him of what life outside these walls could offer, even if it wasn’t always kind. And slowly, piece by piece, you were helping him reclaim it.

You glanced over at Thanos, his peaceful face softened by sleep, his arm draped lazily over your bare thighs. Carefully, you lifted his arm and slipped out of bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb him. Padding toward the kitchen, you glanced at the clock: 2:30 a.m. Another sleepless night. You sighed, the weight of endless insomnia pressing down on you.

You set the kettle to boil, deciding tea wouldn’t cut it tonight. The staleness of the room felt suffocating. What you needed was air. Before stepping out to the balcony, you peeked into the bedroom again, reassured by the steady rise and fall of Thanos’ chest.

The view of Seoul stretched before you as you stepped outside. The city pulsed with quiet energy, its lights casting a warm glow against the dark sky. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the breeze, mingling with the night air and brushing your hair across your face. This view, this life—it was something you’d never take for granted.

Pulling out your phone, you typed a quick message to Se-mi.

y/n: You up?

Minutes passed before your phone buzzed with a reply.

Se-mi: Yeah. Can’t sleep?

y/n: The insomnia is never-ending.

Se-mi: I miss when we all lived together.

Your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. Memories of those first fragile weeks after escaping the games flooded your mind. The four of you—Thanos, Se-mi, Min-su, and you—crammed into your tiny apartment, clinging to each other for sanity. For weeks, you barely left the safety of those walls. Eventually, Thanos invited everyone to move in with him, but Se-mi and Min-su had decided it was time to go back to their families. The games had taught them how precious life was. That, and your shared space wasn’t exactly conducive to privacy—especially with how loud things could get between you and Thanos when you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.

y/n: I miss it too. I miss you. Shopping tomorrow?

Se-mi: You know I hate shopping.

y/n: But you love me, and T gave me his black card.

Se-mi: Spoiled brat.

y/n: See you tomorrow 🥰

Se-mi: Can’t wait ✌🏼

You smiled at her response, warmth spreading through you at the thought of reconnecting with your best friend. But the moment of peace was shattered by a sound from inside—faint whimpers carried through the air. Your heart clenched. Setting your tea down, you hurried back to the bedroom.

“T?” you called softly as you stepped inside.

No response. Only the faint cries that sent chills down your spine. You rushed to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp. Thanos was thrashing slightly, tears streaming down his cheeks, his hands grasping desperately at the empty space where you should have been.

“Fuck! NO!” he suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse with panic.

“T!” you gasped, climbing onto the bed and pulling him into your arms. “T, baby…” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

His hand found your shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist as though clinging to reality. He fought against the demons clawing at him, his breaths ragged and uneven. Finally, his eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused at first, until they locked onto yours. His lip quivered as shame filled his expression.

“Hi, baby,” you whispered, brushing your thumb tenderly across his cheek to wipe away the tears. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Fuck…” he sighed, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shirt. His shame was palpable, but you held him tightly, cradling him as though the weight of his nightmares could be eased by your embrace.

“Another nightmare?” you asked softly. He nodded wordlessly, slipping his hand into yours. He hated these moments. Hated the way his past still haunted him, dragging you into his darkness. But you didn’t mind. You’d made a decision long ago: this man was worth every struggle, every sleepless night. Some may say a few days isn’t enough time to know who is your person, but when your life is on the line, time has a way of fast-tracking love.

“M’sorry…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, T,” you reassured him, your fingers running soothingly through his hair. “You know I’ll always be right here.”

“Promise?” His voice was barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable.

You kissed his forehead, tightening your arms around him. “Promise,” you said, and you meant it with every fiber of your being.

No taglist yet but if you'd like to be added to future fics, let me know! :)

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Could you please do LDS boys +

Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3

HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)

Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die

A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Caleb

"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."

Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.

He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.

You protected him but got hurt in the process.

He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.

And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.

"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."

Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.

He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.

You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.

It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.

Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.

He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.

Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.

Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.

No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.

Rafayel

"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"

Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.

When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.

Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.

Not again. No.

All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.

Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.

He needed to be sure you won't die this time.

And his playful attitude is gone completely.

"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."

He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.

Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.

He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.

I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.

Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.

"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."

Xavier

"I failed you."

You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.

You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.

Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.

This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.

Especially when your injuries are so severe.

Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.

With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.

"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."

He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.

Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.

Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.

Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.

As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.

Better safe than sorry.

He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.

Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.

Zayne

"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."

Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.

But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.

He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.

And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.

Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.

While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.

Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.

He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.

And he could've lost you.

But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.

And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.

"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."

He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.

Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.

Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.

You can ask him about these little gifts.

And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.

"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"

[hrts4-jay]

⑅☽⑊CONVENIENCE⑊☾⑅

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Reader (Nali)

cw: 1.6k ♡♡

A/N: here’s another Geum Seongje fic for u guys! This one is short :) I also want to thank y'all for the support from my first fic 🥹🫶

The fluorescent hum of the convenience store buzzed in Nali's ears, a stark contrast to the quiet grumbling in her stomach. Late-night cravings were her weakness, usually manifesting in a desperate need for ramen.

She scanned the shelves, the bright glow of the snack aisle momentarily distracting her. Then she saw him.

Geum Seongje.

He was leaning against the back wall, half-hidden behind stacks of discounted energy drinks. But even in the dim light, she couldn't miss it: Blood.

Blood painted his knuckles, splattered across his uniform, and dripped down his chin. Cuts and bruises blossomed across his face, A strange and dark expression appeared on his usually expressionless face, despite his glasses covering his beautiful eyes.

Nali's breath hitched. Seongje was known for his quiet strength, He’s powerful and influential at Eunjang High, especially after they took down the Union. He wasn't someone she expected to see crumpled and bleeding in a convenience store. But she wasn't scared at all.

She immediately took two packs of ramen.

He didn’t seem to notice her, lost in a grim contemplation of the tiled floor. He looked… broken—a mess.

He was zoning out.

Hesitantly, she slowly approached him. "S-Seongje? Are you… okay?"

He flinched, his head snapping up. Recognition flickered in his dark eyes, followed by a flash of something she couldn't quite decipher – maybe shame, maybe anger.

"Nali?" he mumbled, his voice rough. "Go away." He said.

He took a moment to pause, leaning against the cool surface of the wall as he gathered his thoughts. With a deep breath, he pushed himself away, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly as he stepped outside. Quickly pulling out a cig from his pocket, lighting it up with his silver lighter.

His words were sharp, but she could hear the tremor beneath them. He was trying to push her away, protect her from whatever mess had left him like this.

Ignoring him, she quickly gathered antiseptic wipes, bandages, gauze, and painkillers from the shelf. The cashier, a bored-looking teenager, didn't even glance up as she rang up the surprisingly large pile of medical supplies.

Running outside, she stood before him, holding out the bag. "Let me help you."

He stared at the bag, his eyes narrowed. "I don't need your help." He said, letting out a puff of smoke.

"Maybe not," Nali said, her voice unwavering. "But I'm offering it anyway."

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, The palpable tension simmering between the two almost suffocated her.

Finally, he sighed a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He knew he couldn't win against her quiet determination. He turned, flicking his cigarette.

"Fine," he grunted, taking the bag. "But I'm not going to your dorm."

"My place it is, then," Nali said, a small smile tugging at her lips. She lived in a small apartment off-campus. Letting Seongje in was a risk, a violation of her carefully set boundaries. His rough appearance and the vulnerability in his eyes drew her in.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹

The apartment was small, and sparsely furnished, but clean and organized. Nali pointed him toward the bathroom. "Wash up. I'll get some towels."

While he was gone, she quickly tidied the living room, shoving textbooks and manga under the couch. The anxiety was starting to creep in, a nervous flutter in her stomach. Nali was alone with Seongje, the quiet, intimidating Seongje of Eunjang High, covered in blood and who knew what trauma.

Why did he look so good despite looking like a mess?

He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, his face clean but still marked with bruises.

Nali gestured to the couch. "Sit. Let me see."

He hesitated, then sat carefully, as if afraid he might break the furniture. Nali knelt in front of him, her fingers light as she began to clean his wounds. She was surprisingly gentle, her touch careful and precise. She worked in silence, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore the way her heart was hammering in her chest. Trying to ignore the fact he’s staring hard at her.

Each cut told a story, each bruise a testament to the violence he'd endured. She imagined the fight, the brutal, unforgiving world he navigated, and a wave of protectiveness washed over her. She felt so bad for him.

"Who did this?" Nali asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn't answer, his jaw clenched tight.

"You don't have to tell me," she said, seeing the darkness gathering in his eyes. "But you don't have to do this alone either."

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and Nali felt a jolt, a sudden awareness of the space between them, the intimacy of the moment. His eyes were dark and intense, filled with a pain that resonated deep within her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and rough. It was barely audible, but Nali heard it.

As she finished bandaging his hand, she caught his gaze and held it. In that moment, the convenience store, the blood, the violence – all of it faded away. There was just Seongje, broken and vulnerable, and Nali, offering a haven in the storm.

She glanced at the clock: 11:48 PM

“You should stay for a night here. It’s dangerous to go out at a time like this; You might get hurt again.” Nali said, holding his bruised wrist, and looking up at him.

He pulled his wrist from her grasp. “No, it’s okay.” He mumbled.

“Please, I insist.” Nali smiled at him. “I have an extra mattress, don’t worry.”

She moved towards the corner of the room where she kept the rolled-up mattress. As she worked, she could feel his eyes on her, making her move awkwardly. She set the mattress in her room right beside her bed. Bedsheets, pillows, and blanket—all set up. She completely forgot about the ‘Enhypen’ posters sticking to her walls. “Shit.” She quickly covered the posters with bond paper. “That’s gonna be so embarrassing.”

Dusting her hands, she sighed. She can’t fathom the fact that Seongje is literally sleeping with her. She bit her bottom lip from the thoughts filling in her head. Changing into her pj’s, she decided to wear a cami lace top and pj pants. Simplicity is the best.

“Seongje, come inside, the AC is on!” She called out to him.

Seongje slowly walked into her room, the cold fresh air hitting him.

“Oh, I have my friend’s hoodie and pants, you can wear them. Here you go.” She smiled brightly handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

Gently cradling her head in her hands, she rested her forehead against the soft surface of the bed, focusing her gaze on Seongje. As her eyes locked with his, she noticed him lying back comfortably, his hands resting behind his head.

“Hm? Is there somethingon my face?” he murmured with a smirk, tilting his head slightly to the side, a curious glint in his eye.

She stared at him longer — deeper. A soft sigh escaped her lips. She found herself lost in the simple sight of him, the relaxed curve of his smile, the way the lamp light caught the edges of his dark hair.

"It's just..." she began, her voice barely a whisper, the words catching in her throat. She pushed hereelf up slightly, her hands now framing her face as she continued to gaze at him. "It's just... you.” She said, giving him a slight smile.

A warmth spread through hee chest, a tender feeling that pleasantly made her heartache. She yearned to reach out, to trace the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, but for now, simply looking felt enough. She wanted to touch him, feel him, so bad.

Seongje's gaze softened, the curiosity in his eyes melting into something warmer, something that mirrored the emotions swirling within her. He propped himself up and reached out his hand, his fingers gently brushing against her cheek. The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"And what about me?" he murmured, a smirk played on his face. His voice a low rumble. His thumb traced a soft circle on her skin, his eyes never leaving hers.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as she savored the connection. When she opened them again, her gaze was filled with an unspoken affection.

"Everything," she breathed, the word hanging in the air between her. "Everything about you. I want to know you more.”

A soft smile touched Seongje's lips, a genuine, unguarded expression that made her heart skip a beat. He lowered his hand from her cheek, his fingers trailing down her neck, sending another wave of shivers through her.

"Then ask," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with an invitation. "Ask me anything."

A thousand questions bubbled to the surface of her mind, a torrent of curiosity about the man before her. What made him like this? What were his intentions with her? Why did he join the Union? What does he want from her?

But in that moment, under the soft glow of the evening light, with his hand warm in hers, she found herself drawn to something more immediate, more personal.

"Tell me," she began, her voice barely a whisper, her gaze locked with his, "what makes you... you?"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹

[taojjang]

ᯓ riize reactions - healing after an argument

pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: light angst & fluff, warnings: crying

part one here .ᐟ ★

♡⸝⸝ what he'd do to see that pretty smile again

shotaro . . .

after leaving the bedroom with plans on spending the night on the couch, you couldn't help but feel bad about what you'd done. you knew shotaro was the sweetest boy in the world, you were just acting impulsively on your jealousy and took it out on him. you wanted to turn around and apologize to taro a million times, but your pettiness wouldn't allow you to. so you settled on the couch and sat alone with your thoughts until you fell asleep.

you woke up confused yet warm with a thick blanket over you. you looked down and you felt your heavy heart slowly pick itself up. shotaro was lying on a blanket beside the couch with his hand propped up holding yours. you waste no time and kneel beside him, stroking his hair and lightly shaking him awake. "baby, wake up! why would you sleep here without a pillow? you're gonna be all sore!" taro smiled with his eyes still closed. he lied on his back and rested his hand on your thigh. "i'm sorry, honey... i just wanted to sleep beside you. i couldn't fall asleep while you were out here all by yourself."

your eyes softened before you leaned down to press a kiss on taro's forehead, lying against his chest afterwards. "i'm sorry, taro. i'm sorry for being so jealous. i just... can't stand seeing you with someone else." taro shook his head and gently ran his hand through your hair. "there's nothing to worry about, honey. why would i be searching for another girl when i have the world's loveliest girl all to myself?" all of your concerns circling last night's date all melted within an instant. your body relaxed against his. taro continued, "you're the best girlfriend i could ever ask for, y/n. you mean the world to me and you know that. i've never felt such love for anyone who isn't you. you're truly the best thing that's happened to me, and i wouldn't trade you for the world." your eyes softened and you felt your insecurity fade. taro's reassurance was the only thing you needed to forget about all of your worries. you laughed and sat up, resting your hands on his stomach. "let's go sleep on the bed." taro looked at the time on his phone and tilted his head. "it's already 9am, you still want to sleep?" you nod and gently tug on his shirt, drawing a smile from his lips. "we need to catch up on cuddles. i hate sleeping without you." that lovely smile of yours was all taro needed to see to know everything was resolved. he smiled and let you take his hand, restlessly guiding him to your shared bed. the rest of the morning was spent cuddling against each other like penguins, making up for the night you'd spent apart.

eunseok . . .

after eunseok voiced his disappointment in you, nothing hurt more than thinking of him. the idea of being such a nuisance to someone as important as him was tearing at your heart every second of the day. you only wanted the best for him— so you kept your distance. after storming out of his house, you wouldn't step foot in there for weeks. because he'd come to you.

you came home from work shocked to see eunseok in your kitchen, cutting fruit over the counter. he lifted his head and met your eyes. "what, did you forget i have the spare key?" seeing him again caused all of the suppressed anxiety to flood back into your system. you swallowed back your unease and rushed to your bedroom, needing a quiet moment of solitude. while changing out of your suffocating work clothes, your mind scrambled up an apology, but the weight of your shame and fear clouded any form of apology that came to mind. when you face him again, all you can do is shamefully sit in silence while he plates the food in front of you.

the tension was growing thicker and thicker the longer you sat ahead of him. you scarfed down your food in a sloppy attempt to escape the situation sooner, but that only ticked him off even more. "why haven't you answered my calls?" the sudden confrontation startled you. you cautiously swallow your food and keep your gaze on the plate. "i don't know," you cowered. eunseok's burdening gaze softened at the sound of your weak voice. he spoke delicately, "that's not an accident, darling. are you gonna tell me the truth or are we going another three days without contact?" the fear of spending another night alone settled into your panic-stricken heart, triggering a desperate yet honest apology. your fearful eyes met his and your stifled guilt let go of your long-awaited apology. "i'm sorry, seok. i'm sorry for not listening to you, and i'm sorry for being so intolerable." the tremble in your voice set off all alarms in eunseok's heart. like a habit, he rushed to you and took you into his arms. "if i knew you were getting so exhausted of me, i would've listened to you. i'm sorry for being so difficult." eunseok held you against his chest, stroking your hair while gently consoling your cries. "you are difficult, but i wouldn't have it any other way. i'm sorry for overwhelming you, but i'm only worried about your health, darling. i can't see you sick again. i'm sorry, too." eunseok's gentle tone only sent you into another fit of tears. you tightly held onto his shirt and began sobbing frantic apologies. he couldn't help but laugh at you, wondering how he'd ended up with such a stupid girlfriend. "are you done yet, crybaby? your food is getting cold."

sungchan . . .

the desperately needed alone time you'd finally earned felt everything but rewarding. you tried watching your favorite show, reading a book, and catching up on sleep, but nothing brought you that peace you'd been yearning for. all you wanted was sungchan. since the moment he'd slammed his bedroom door shut, your recovery was no longer your priority. now, all you wanted was to know if he was okay. though you're the one who deserves an apology, you couldn't help but linger on the thought of him needing comfort.

you knew sungchan wanted nothing to do with you at the moment, but you still found yourself sneaking off to the kitchen in search of him. you peeked around the doorframe and spotted sungchan in front of the counter grabbing a glass from the cabinet. your heart ached to see him so exhausted. as he poured a glass of water, you decided you wanted to make it up to him. he flinched feeling your weak arms take his waist into your embrace, your body pressing against his. sungchan swallowed back the heat rising to his face and his poker face remained. but as you rested your head on his shoulder, he felt his heart melt into a puddle of adoration for you. "i'm sorry you had a bad day, baby, and i'm sorry for making it worse. i really wasn't trying to push you away, chan. you're the last thing i'd want to lose. i just wanted some time alone, but i couldn't stop worrying about you. do you still want to cuddle..?" sungchan turned to face you and cupped your face in his hands. your stress melted away with one solacing kiss from him. "of course i do, princess. you have nothing to apologize for, alright? i know you just needed a quiet moment to yourself, i was just cranky from how tiring my day was and needed you. i'm sorry for putting my emotions before yours. we can cuddle tomorrow so you can have some time to yourself." you shook your head and clung to his chest as if he'd disappear. "no, i need you right now. i couldn't sleep without you." sungchan laughed and kissed your temple. "anything you want, doll."

wonbin . . .

nine times out of ten, wonbin is the last of you to apologize after a disagreement. but he is far from remorseless. he's not ashamed of apologizing or thinks he's free of any wrong: he's simply afraid to face you. after every argument, wonbin is terribly paranoid of making things worse. he can't live with himself knowing how badly he's hurt you or how much he's ruined for you. so he hides in fear of hurting you again.

but this time, he couldn't. he regrets not walking you home that night or even kissing you goodnight. he knows he overreacted; he's completely aware of his mistake. he's just too afraid of facing you knowing how much he hurt you. he'd been planning on going to your house with all your favorite snacks, hugging your pain away. he'd gone shopping for sweet treats he knew you'd love and even spent hours browsing jewelry stores for a pretty bracelet to gift you. yet all of this effort was spent just for his plans to be foiled.

the night he decided to surprise you, he spent hours preparing a pretty gift basket of everything he'd bought you. all of those little gifts displayed in a pretty pink basket with silk bows tied around every item; everything was perfect. but as he picked up the basket and turned to deliver it, the bedroom door creaked open. there you stood, dumbfounded with your eyes on the huge gift basket. wonbin was speechless. all he could do was stare at you with nervous doe eyes, waiting for a response. you let out an amused chuckle as you pulled out a white gift bag from behind your back. wonbin's anxiety melted in an instant. his eyes lit up and he hesitantly took the bag from your hands. "what's this for, baby..?" he asked with a glint of guilt in his eyes. you looked down at the bag and murmured, "i'm sorry for what happened the other day. i didn't mean to make you so upset." wonbin's heart shattered into a million pieces seeing your defeated demeanor. he dropped everything and took you into his embrace, cradling you against him and stroking your hair. "why are you sorry, baby? i had no reason to yell at you, i don't know what came over me. it's all my fault for being so miserable. i'm sorry for ruining things for you, y/n." you began to feel much lighter, finally being able to face wonbin without feeling guilty. you hug him tighter, cooing, "i forgive you, baby." though he should feel relieved, he pouted and whined, "i was supposed to apologize first! i prepared this whole apology gift just for you to come out of nowhere and spoil my entire plan! you even have a better gift than mine!" you sighed and shut up your whiny boyfriend with a quick kiss on the lips. "you win, okay? your gift is perfect, thank you my love~" your heart grew warm feeling all of the tension and gloom leave wonbin once he heard your reassurance. you'll always be his solace <3

seunghan . . .

a few days passed since you'd voiced your discontent with seunghan's love bombing. you thought you'd fixed things, but a new problem inevitably arose: now, seunghan was only a shell of what he used to be. after that night, seunghan became noticably less affectionate. he'd hesitate to hold your hand while you walked beside each other, and he'd take a while to give in and rest his head on your chest while you watched your show together. he was scared of hurting you. seunghan's heart was torn to shreds after learning he'd only been hurting you by doing what he thought was fixing the problem. though he'd taken your advice and began communicating rather than suppressing your issues with affection, things didn't feel right.

you didn't take the massive shift in seunghan's personality well. you wanted to tell him that it was okay to be affectionate, but you wanted to avoid being so overbearing when it comes to how he treats you. after all, your boyfriend is the sweetest boy in the world and you wouldn't change him for the world. it was all becoming too much. you were beating yourself up for criticizing him in the first place, blaming yourself for the intense decline in his happiness. you sat on your bed with your legs pressed against your chest, hiding your face in your knees. your guilt began exhuming from your body through tears.

as soon as seunghan heard your sniffles, he dropped everything and rushed to you. his heart stopped once he saw your frail state. he sat in front of you, mind racing trying to find a way to approach you. you looked up at seunghan and panic began settling in his mind. he stood frozen, helplessly staring into your teary eyes. "is... there something wrong?" you were stunned by his lack of reassurance. at times like this, he would have already scooped you into his arms and cradled you until the tears stopped. you'd finally been hit with the fact that you'd hurt seunghan so deeply. your head hung low as your soft sobs turned to heavy wails. his desire to hold you was growing stronger and stronger, but he wanted to show you how much he's improved for your sake. but it all became meaningless once you cried, "i miss you, seunghan." seunghan's eyes watered as he hesitantly moved beside you, delicately pulling you towards his chest. "i'm so sorry... i'm so sorry for changing you this much. i shouldn't have said anything, i should've kept quiet. i... i hurt you so much and i hate myself for it. i miss you, love." seunghan couldn't contain his tears hearing your frantic apologies. his tears dripped onto your sweater as he pulled you closer into a sincere hug. "never apologize for wanting better, y/n. i should be the one apologizing. i'm so sorry for hurting you. i'm so proud of you for trying to resolve things with me, i know it must've been hard. i'm gonna do my best to be a better man to you no matter how unbearable it is. you deserve the world, angel." your heart only grew heavier and heavier with every word that left his lips. you looked up at him with tears streaming down your face and attested, "no i don't, seunghan. it was so selfish of me to change you for my own comfort. you're the sweetest boy in the world and you were already perfect before i messed things up. i just miss my happy seunghan. i miss your hugs and your cuddles. i don't want you to be so anxious all the time because of me. i want you to be yourself again." seunghan wiped his tears before gently wiping yours. "but i'm always happy when you're around, angel. quit being so hard on yourself. i love you just as much as i did before, and nothing will change that. i'll cuddle you just as much as you want me to, alright? there's no need to cry, my love." you laughed and wrapped your arms around his waist. the world felt so much brighter now that his smile returned.

sohee . . .

the distance between you and sohee had only worsened your stress. you thought maybe having more alone time would help you focus on school and prepare you for the upcoming exams, but you were mistaken. all you could think of was sohee. you missed him so dearly that it overshadowed every single one of your tasks. you wanted him to come back so you could cuddle him and shower him with all of the attention he could ask for, but you knew the damage was done and he was upset with you. so you kept quiet.

that was until your doorbell rang. you sprung up from your desk and ran over to the front door hoping it was sohee, but to your dismay, it wasn't. "hello! delivery for y/n?" it was a food delivery from your favorite restaurant. you tilted your head. "i didn't order anything...?" the deliveryman looked down at the bag and read out the address to you, coincidentally matching yours. you hesitantly took the bag from him and bid him a good night. you opened the bag to be greeted by a small receipt. your eyes lit up as you read through the faded ink letters; "i haven't been there to make sure you're eating, so i figured i'd send you a meal. i hope this lifts your spirits and motivates you to push through your exams! you better keep your promise and invite me over once your exams are over! -lee sohee." you were finally able to smile once you saw his name at the bottom of the receipt. you ran to grab your phone and immediately called him. "y/n?" "come over right now." "but y-" "bring your pajamas."

you impatiently sat at the table staring at the receipt waiting for sohee to arrive. once the front door opened, sohee was startled with a tight hug from you. his body lost its tension and he smiled, holding you close and breathing in your scent. "thank you, sohee. you're the sweetest~" sohee laughed and stood up taller. "it was cool, right? i called the restaurant and was all cool asking them 'relay this message for my girlfriend.' aren't i the coolest boyfriend for that?!" you laughed and left a peck on sohee's lips. his flaunty demeanor melted and his cheeks flushed pink. "yes sohee, you're so cool. come eat with me!" the two of you shared the meal while watching naruto together, you finally getting some time away from your textbook. sohee was over the moon now that he'd gotten some of your attention. the two of you changed into your pajamas and completed your lengthy night routine before slipping under the covers and settling down for the night. you turned to face sohee and he nervously looked at your arms. "y/n, i'm... i'm sorry for how i acted the other day. you were already going through so much and i'm sure getting yelled at didn't help much. i... i think i just missed you too much." your eyes softened and you placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb gently brushing over his skin. "my sohee... :( it's okay, i understand why you were so upset. i'm sorry for neglecting you, i promise i'll make up for it. we can cuddle all night and we can even play video games tomorrow. how does that sound?" sohee's eyes lit up and he nodded with a huge smile plastered on his face. you laughed and left a kiss on his nose. turns out sohee was all you needed to escape all of your stress <3

anton . . .

anton can't last a day without you. you were surprised to still receive hourly texts from him after how you treated him last night. your heart broke seeing him act like everything was normal while he was still hurt from how you spoke to him. you kept texting him 'i love you's to console his worries, but you knew that wouldn't be enough. so you invited him over.

the second he walked through the door, his sorrow was evident. his smile was weaker than usual and his eyes had this emptiness to them. even his hug felt weaker than before. you held his hand and lead him to your bedroom, where his eyes would light up and his smile would grow. you had set up this giant pillow fort in your bedroom and decorated it with pretty fairy lights and teddy bears. "what's this..?!" anton laughed, covering his mouth with his free hand. "surprise slumber party! come inside!" anton was astonished by the integrity of the fort and the amount of teddy bears and snacks that were hidden inside. "this is so cool!" he cheered, looking around with doe eyes. you laughed and pulled him down, trapping him in your arms. you peppered his face with hundreds of kisses while he giggled and squirmed. "stop it, it tickles!" you left one final kiss on his lips and moved back to meet his eyes. "i missed you, anton." his eyes softened and he smiled. "i missed you more, love." you brushed his hair back and gently ran your fingers through it. you took a deep breath before letting your thoughts roam free. "i'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday, baby. i was overwhelmed and i didn't mean to take it out on you. i wanted to surprise you as a way to make it up to you. i promise i won't forget to say i love you ever again, okay?" anton laughed and rested his hands on your waist. "that's what this is all about? gosh, you're the cutest. it's alright, i'm not upset with you. i understand why you were so frustrated. i'll work harder to make you feel appreciated. trust me y/n, nothing you do for me goes unrecognized. i love you so so much, my love." you cupped his face in your palms and left a tender kiss on his lips. "i won't let you forget how much i love you ever again." for the rest of the night, your clingy boyfriend would be stuck to you like glue. and of course, you wouldn't forget to whisper an "i love you" before kissing him goodnight.

—

a/n: the happy ending! i didn't expect my first angst to get so many interactions, i was using all of my brainpower to push this out for you guys lmao!! thank you sm for loving part one so much and i'm sorry to everyone i've hurt </3 i hope this makes up for it! i also got a bit carried away with seunghan's part... i just miss him sm i am so sorry my friends

[messenger-of-babel]

Bruce Wayne Who...

Summary: Thoughts about your relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: So Sorry for the longgg absence. I won't explain it too much but I've had serious health complications that require me to go to the doctor weekly and I've been struggling with that a lot. Half of the Christmas event unpublished stories are done- but I don't want to upload them half baked. I will be uploading them around my original schedule of normal fics, so I'm so sorry this all happened while I was doing that Christmas Countdown. So if you see unseasonal content- that is why. I will ask to refer to the notes section of some of the fics before this. I will be trying to deliver more- please be patient and thank you for reading! (I'm working on my requests next so you'll seen them soon <333)

Love RiRi <3

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Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

had sworn off dating. Being a vigilante was enough work on his plate, and he had already involved too many innocent people. He had already made too many people join him in on his night life, like he was a black hole that sucked in anything around it and slowly suffocated its prey. The playboy image also helped him keep his cover up. After all, who could dare point a finger at Bruce Wayne and claim him to be the Bat, when he was spending the night at the Iceberg Lounge? How could he be the one tracking down criminals from Arkham when he had a supermodel on his arm at the mayor’s winter gala?

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Has to throw that all out of the window the moment that he catches sight of you. When he meets your eyes for only a moment across the sea of people at the Gotham Museums grand reopening, to which he had donated personal items of his family's. His heart lurches in his chest and adrenaline courses through his veins like he's in a fight. You look away after a moment, but he stays fixed on your form as you disappear to talk to some of the curators. Bruce takes a deep sip of his champagne; mind muddled suddenly and distracted the rest of the evening as Alfred drives him home.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Still doesn't think that it's love that has him. He's a stoic man deep down, with the facade of a charming smile and a friendly arm around the shoulders. He doesn't consider it love when he goes out as Bruce Wayne more often, taking impromptu visits to the museum once he discovered that you were an employee there. He doesn't even call it infatuation when Alfred points it out to him. It was merely him making sure that the billionaire image remained intact, and that he was in the public eye.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Eventually caves and admits his feelings to himself, head in his hands one night. His skin is a storyboard of scars that criss cross lines across his chest and arms. He had tried to brush it off originally as just his playboy persona finding a good alibi for future reference, but late-night thoughts on rooftops had cleared his head. This was the true him that liked you, the scarred black hole that was undoubtedly going to try to drag you in and suck you of what light you had. He spends the night with an anguished heart, trying so hard to contain the ache that had begun to settle there every time he thought about not approaching you.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Practically fawns when he catches you at work, stumbling over his words as he catches you at the end of your shift. He regains his composure and manages to ask you out quietly, giving you an out if you said no. He felt like some teenager, red faced and anxious. He had fought the Joker countless times, stared down Bane and left with his ribs beaten blue. Yet this somehow made his hands shake, hiding in his pockets. The anxiety all but evaporates when you give him a chance, letting him know your address and to pick you up at six that evening. His head felt light, like he couldn��t get enough air into his lungs. His breath heaves out in a sigh, and he nods, agreeing and promising to send a car around at six. He left the museum that day grinning ear to ear, and this time it wasn't his persona doing the smiling for him.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Spoils you as much as he can when you give him the green light. After you've tested the waters and have been dating for a few months, he's enamoured. He bought your apartment for you outright and changed the deed to be in your name, so you never had to worry about rent. Bruce doesn’t want anything in return, he just wants you to be safe and happy. Not that he's really been a man of words, the written mess of symbols and letters clog up his throat when he tries to speak. No, he'd rather explain his affection for you in deep stares and gentle hands on your shoulder of back. He loves that you aren’t deceived by the callouses or the rough texture of his palm. He loves that despite the nicks and scars and occasional bruises on his knuckles that you don’t shy away from the coarseness that emanates from him, your body leans in and relaxes instead. He loves that you make him feel softer than he is.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Can't bring himself to tell you that he's Batman but wishes to do so desperately when he sees you lying next to him in bed. You're still fast asleep wrapped in the sheets, arm tucked under the pillow as he gazes down at you. He wonders what you'd do if he shook you awake gently, if your nose would scrunch up as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. If you would be more irritated or concerned at being roused from sleep. He wants to show you all of him. After all, you're the person that's come closest to seeing the real Bruce he thought he lost years ago. Yet when he thinks too hard on it, he feels sick, like he's leading you on. He can't tell you who he is on nights you aren't tucked in next to him, when he's out on the street. He can't tell you that everyone in this family is in on one big secret, and that there are shared glances and knowing looks traded behind your back. He feels like a liar.

He is one.

He wants to not lie anymore, to involve you into his fold. He had come close once, before Dick pulled him aside and told him it was probably for the best that he didn't. But Dick wasn't here now, was he? He could just reach out and-

His hand hovers as he reaches for you. No, Dick was right. This was for the best.

So, he lies down next to you again and drapes an arm over your middle, convincing himself to sleep it off.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Considers keeping you in his life forever once the tabloids start running marriage speculations about you both. You've been dating for a while and recently have been out of the public eye. Of course, you were just sick, but a few weeks off were enough to substantiate rumours of eloping and a honeymoon. He can’t deny that he thought of it when he made public appearances, or when he was out in the shopping district and his eyes lingered on the engagement rings just a tad too long. Yet he is the same Bruce who shoves that feeling down deep inside him so it can't surface again or bother him at the board meeting he has in thirty minutes.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Leaves said meeting early to find you at work, taking your lunch break. Who pulls you outside and tells you he has something incredibly important to tell you with a slightly wild look in his eye. You can't help but be taken aback, wondering what's gotten the ineffable billionaire agitated. You think of a million scenarios. He needs to go into witness protection? He got involved with gangs? threats on his life again? he's being blackmailed? Blood money? He leaves as soon as he came, driving himself back once telling you to meet him at the manor that night after work. Immediately after work. He drives back to the manor with his pulse thrumming against the skin of his neck and fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. he was going to tell you. He was going to risk everything on a gamble, and he couldn’t help but feel the pit beneath his feet trying to swallow him whole at the implications of it.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Jumps up from the sitting room the moment you step in the door, hands jittery despite the glass of scotch he had been sipping. Whose nerves get the better of him in that one moment despite spending years training away that fear. He was fear now, he was the Batman. But in this moment, he felt more man that he had felt in a long, long time.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Feels like he could collapse as you listen to his admission. He's placed all the cards in your hands, enough to extort him forever, expose him and his identity. Make the world crumble around his ears in such a dramatic fashion that the Justice Leage wouldn't even be able to save him from it. He wasn't just gambling with his identity, he played with the lives and identities of everyone he was connected to, every Robin he had raised and trained. So, when you hold those cards he gave you and fold them to your chest, swearing to never tell a soul, the breath leaving his lungs makes him feel boneless.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Thinks for the first time, that there was a way to unite the Bat with Bruce Wayne. That when he goes to hug you, he knows that he risked it all on that gamble, but it paid off in ways that he couldn’t have imagined.

and that was enough for him.

[rafesteddy]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔼𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛’𝚜𝙶𝙵𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

*part of the “Sorry, Top” AU — writen to be read alone.

warnings: jealous!rafe, cheating, swearing, drinking, heavy angst, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, kissing, dark!reader, dark!rafe, ownership “you’re mine, etc.”, pet names.

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This was not a kinkmas ask, but I made it one 😋 The premise is that you are dating Topper but hook up with Rafe secretly. You and Rafe had agreed that you mean nothing to each other, using one another to get off only, but the more time he spends with you, the more his feelings have grown. You have no idea because he’s so adamant about the fact that he’s using you. So, how would you know? Topper let Rafe know that the two of you had finally had sex, and between that and seeing you together at the Island Club Christmas party, he’s about ready to crash out.

The Island Club glimmers like a holiday movie brought to life—soft, candy colored lights curling around every banister, beautiful decorations meticulously placed.

Rafe barely notices the crowd around him—people he hasn’t seen in months. The hum and laughter surrounding him blends together when he sees you from across the room.

His blue eyes are sharp and burning with a feeling that he’s never felt before… Jealousy. Then again, maybe he has; maybe it was there all along.

Rafe lifts his whiskey to his lips, sipping slowly as he stands with his friends. He smiles and nods occasionally as he stares at you from a distance. His unease and anxiety mounts with each look you give Topper and every sweet nothing he whispers in your ear.

He can’t help but think how beautiful you look tonight. So good that it hurts.

He’ll never get to look at you like this—like him. Topper has it all. And what does he get? Stolen glances, late-night whispered conversation, quick passes in the hallway on your way to class, but that’s what he had wanted.

Rafe thought about it once. A few night back, when you were snuggled up in bed with Top, watching a movie. He thought about taking you on a date. A real date. Sitting across from him, dressed up just like you are now.

It didn’t help that he and Top had talked the day before, the two of you finally taking your relationship to the next level. The thought of you having sex with him—doing the shit that the two of you do together made Rafe physically ill.

He was confident in the way he made you feel. There was no denying that he made you feel good—made you feel something that would make walking away from your entanglement with him difficult. But what if… What if Topper was better? What if you no longer needed the only thing Rafe was good for? What if you didn’t want him?

What if he lost you?

The fact that he told you ‘you meant nothing to him’ haunts him like nothing else has, and the more he listened to you talk, the more he learned about you, and the more time he spent with you alone when Top wasn’t looking, the more the lines between “I don’t care” and “I care more than I should” blurred.

He had gotten so used to your company—the idea of you going on to live a life without him, to be done with him completely, and for Top to get that was suffocating.

Rafe’s nostrils flare, jaw tense, teeth gritted. He grips his glass, tossing back the rest of his liquor.

He shuffles toward the bar, nodding toward the bartender, pretending not to know exactly where he was placing himself—right next to you. “Top,” Rafe smiles, greeting his friend, pulling him in for a friendly hug, ignoring you as long as possible in an attempt to make you feel as desperate for his attention as he was fiending for yours.

His stomach churns as he watches you wrap your manicured fingers around Topper's tie, fixing the knot; his presence, not even felt by you. He imagines why you’re fixing it in the first place, picturing the two of you hooking up in the bathroom stall or the car before you walked in. He swallows thickly, feeling the pressure of his anxiety weighing on his chest. Rafe clears his throat in one last attempt to get your attention, too proud to fight for it any other way in front of Topper.

“Oh. Hey, Rafe,” you smile when you turn around, looking into his eyes. His usual swagger is gone, a flicker of something new in its place that you can't quite place. He takes a little breath, looking down at you in your party dress, eyes beating shut as he lands on your hips, seeing Topper's hand hooked around your waist.

Rafe bites his lips, holding back everything; next to impossible considering how beautiful you look tonight. His praise, right on the tip of his tongue, along with the words he can’t say…

“Are you thirsty, babe?” Topper asks as he tucks himself into your neck. The warmth of his whisper tickling skin, making you turn into him even more.

The bartender sets a drink in front of Rafe, and he shoots in back like a shot, knocking his gold ring against the bar top for another before he can even speak, wincing from the burn of the booze.

“Are you okay?” You ask gently.

Rafe rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth—anything but—but how can he let you know that when the two of you had been nothing but a dirty secret. The man labeling you as nothing more than a means to get himself off… You were supposed to mean nothing to him, but at this moment, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Talk to you two later, yeah?” He rasps, looking out into the party, so deep in his emotions that he can’t even look at you to deliver those six parting words.

He grabs his drink off the counter, strolling back to where he came. Your eyes follow him; Rafe, not going far. And unless he came from somewhere else, there’s no way he didn’t see you before.

Conversation plays around him as he stews, his frustration boiling under the surface, threatening to bubble over any second if he sees much more.

His cold heart breaks as he notices how Topper looks at you now. It’s different—a new level of intimacy in his touch that wasn’t there before.

Rafe throws his gaze to the floor, battling with his irrational mind that’s screaming that “no one gets to look at you like that but him,” clearly, that is not the case considering that man is your boyfriend, not him… Those thoughts brew again, “no one should get pleasure or give you pleasure but him…” Not even the man you have been with for months… He knows he sounds insane, but he can’t help it, not when it comes to you. Rafe rolls out his neck, taking a moment to rein himself in.

Everything around him gets a little louder, the conversations he’s been zoned out on filling his ears— the swell of Christmas music surging around him. He takes a deep breath, pushing it out slowly, trying to keep himself from falling apart.

No strings, no feelings, nothingness… that is what he’s supposed to feel when it comes to you.

So why is he digging his phone out of his pocket? Why is he punching his thumbs against the keys, trying to come up with the right thing to say? Why is he fighting off tears for anyone, let alone his best friend’s girlfriend?

This had become far more than just a simple hook-up—the only question is, how long had he been lying to himself?

Rafe nervously brushes his fingers through his hair, staring at the text again before pushing send. He swallows hard, forcing himself to look away, not wanting to see your face when you get it, nervous that your reaction will be anything less than what he’s hoping for.

Rafe: I didn’t think you were gonna come.

You: Hey Rafe. Yeah. Topper wanted me to meet his parents.

Rafe tosses his head back to the ceiling, trying to shut off his mind as he grapples with that thought. You're taking another step forward with Top—just another step away from him.

You: Seriously. Are you okay?

Rafe gets the notification, looking down at his phone. His eyebrows shoot up as he reads your words like he’s trying to translate a language he doesn’t know, scoffing and laughing.

Am I okay? No, I’m not fucking okay. He thinks to himself. He looks over at you and Topper, and for the first time, you truly see it.

Rafe Cameron is jealous…

Rafe: Meet me outside. We need to talk.

You read and reread the message, half-hiding your phone from your boyfriend as your heart races in your chest.

Rafe’s phone is already out, staring at the screen as you type up a message, watching as you shove your phone back in your purse.

You: I can’t

Rafe stares at the message in disbelief again. You weren’t in a relationship… He didn’t get to demand your attention, so he had to ask. And you rejected him. The refusal made his chest tighten, pulse hammering in his head, making him feel like he could crawl out of his skin.

What the hell changed? Sure, you had been together in secret, but the hesitation was always just foreplay—just a part of the back-and-forth between you, building the tension you both knew would inevitably break.

This was different… This had nothing to do with sex for him. And the rejection, you meant it. The knife drove into his gut, twisting when you smiled up at Topper.

And in that moment, he truly felt like the words the two of you had exchanged were true.

He felt like nothing to you.

The party roared around him as Rafe watched, not focusing on anything but you. Rafe’s phone weighed heavy in his pocket. The urge to send you another message, demanding you meet up with him was all too strong. Rafe’s night was a nightmare—as he sat and watching a picture of what he could have had if he had been honest with himself from the start.

“Kelc,” Rafe mumbles between sips of liquor as he watches you shift your drink over to Top, whispering in his ear, putting two and two together, assuming you would go to the bathroom. “Top wanted to talk to you, man. Sorry, I forgot,” he drones as he nods toward the bar, buying himself some extra time. To Rafe’s relief, you slip away, and he doesn’t think… he just moves.

Rafe follows you fast, weaving through the thick crowd as you step into the bathroom, a hoard of women filing in behind you, leaving no hope for him to sneak in. He rests his back against the wall, looking both ways down the long hall, coming up with a plan.

He lifts his phone and types a new message, almost positive that, given the situation, you would see right through it, willing to take the risk nonetheless.

Rafe: Hey babe its Topper my phone died. We’re on the terrace smoking a cigar. You know how to get out here?

He walks down the hall, shifting his eyes before entering the billiards room. Rafe leaves the door cracked, lights off; ready to pull you inside.

You: Yeah. I’m just walking out of the bathroom now. Do I go to the left?

Rafe: Yeah babe

“Rafe!” You gasp as he pulls you into the darkness. He doesn’t let go, his big hands firmly locked on your arms.

“We need to talk,” Rafe breathes, his voice low and tight. The air between the two of you is thick. You swallow the lump in your throat, catching his quick breathing.

“Rafe, c’mon,” you whine. “Not here.” You try to step away, but the hold on your arm gets tighter.

“Why not?” He snaps as he cuts you off, drawing back enough to look into your eyes. “You barely looked at me all night. You turned me down when I texted you-”

“This isn’t the time, okay?”

“Then when is? Huh?” Rafe’s voice rises with yours. He grits his teeth, not wanting to get found before he can tell you how he feels, reaching out to shut the door before coming at you again.

“I’m here with Topper’s family. You can’t just drag me in a room and fuck me,” you hiss as you step in his face.

Rafe’s eyes widen in disbelief as he tries to think of the right words. Hating himself for treating you so awful that the only logical explanation you had that he would haul you back here was to get his dick wet.

“I have a life outside of hooking up with you, Rafe, and you’re trying to ruin it because you’re jealous.”

Rafe buries his head in his trembling hands, trying not to lose his mind. “I can’t… Shit. I-I can’t. Just.. Fuck-”

Your eyebrows pinch together, not understanding a word he’s saying as he rambles complete nonsense. “What the fuck are you saying, Rafe?”

“Cut me some fuckin’ slack. Alright?” He snaps as he steps in your face, getting angrier as you question his outburst, the words getting tangled on his tongue.

You look up at him, your face painted in confusion and annoyance as he looks down at you in desperation and frustration. “Take a breath and tell me what you want to say, Rafe. I’m not going to do this with you right now.”

Rafe rests his hands on his hips, drawing a deep jagged breath as he contemplates just keeping this shit to himself. He got himself in this mess… But he can’t let it go.

He blows his air past his trembling lips and moves toward you, grabbing your hands.

“Rafe seriously-”

“I can’t keep pretending that you mean nothing to me… Okay?” He stops you. “Because you do. You mean a lot to me.”

Your eyes widen on his, lips parting as you draw a shallow breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Just listen to me,” he pleads.

“I’ve gotta go, Rafe,” You whisper.

“What?” He asks, as the emotions he’s feeling clings to his words. “Why do you have to leave?

“You’re unbelievable…”

“How?”

You let out a growl of frusteration, pushing him back before banging your fists against his chest when he come right back in again.“Because I know you don’t mean it, Rafe. I know what you want from me. I know what I mean to you. Fucking nothing… I know what you want to do to me in here and why you drug out of the party in the first place. And I know that if I give in and let my guard down, that’s the moment you’ll let me know that you were fuckin’ with me. Playing mind games on me because ‘how could I possibly mean anything to you’? ‘I’m such a slut’, and ‘I wanted your dick so bad I believed you’.”

“You think that little of me?” He asks as his voice breaks.

“Why wouldn't I, Rafe?” You counter.

“So you don’t feel anything for me? Nothing at all?” He asks. “Tell me all those times we hooked up was just that…”

”Rafe, we agreed that we meant nothing to each other.”

“That's bullshit.”

“What do you want from me, Rafe? You curious about yesterday? That shit eatin’ you up inside? I know you only care about one thing. The sex was fuckin’ awful. Okay? It sucked just like you said it would. You were right. Alright? Can I just fuckin’ go?”

“No! Just stop. Just—” Rafe pinches his eyes shut, holding up his hands in defeat, his physical reaction to your words making your nerves rise. “That’s not the only thing I care about…”

“You’re saying this shit because Topper and I fucked. Now you’re jealous… You’re so fuckin’ predictable it’s nauseating,” you mumble as you grab your purse, heading toward the door.

“You’re right… I’m jealous. But that’s not the only reason I brought you in here.” Rafe stops you, huffing a frustrated breath. “I like you, sweetheart. You don’t have to believe me. I don’t blame you.”

“Right? So, let me go,” you clip as you yank your arm away, storming toward the door.

“So that's it…”

“What more do you want from me?” You scoff.

He laughs manically, at his witts end, looking back at you completely and utterly defeated. He sucks his teeth and shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Well, princess. Have fun with your boyfriend. I don't mean shit to you… Saw that one comin’. I deserve that. At the end of the day, we still get to fuck. Right?” He asks as he turns around, his voice on the verge of tears. “Right?” He shouts when you don’t answer. “I assume that that’s all I mean to you, too. Clearly.” Rafe mumbles. “See you back on campus.”

“Rafe…”

He hangs his head and turns around, his reflective eyes reaching yours, glossed with his emotion, threatening to give way. ”What?”

“It’s just-” you speak hesitantly. “I like you… Why the hell else would I keep risking my relationship for you? Why wouldn’t I have said something to Topper that first night? You were so fuckin’ adamant that I meant nothing that I believed it.”

“If you liked me, why wouldn’t you just leave him?”

“Because, Rafe,” you groan as your shoulders slump. “Topper and I… It’s fine. It’s not a bad relationship—I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” he mumbles as your words get caught up in a deep sigh.

”I just didn’t want to lose what little of you I had if I told you how I felt. I meant nothing to you… But I still got something, and that was enough-” Rafe surges forward, stealing your words in a desperate kiss. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer, shattering the tension. You moan against his lips as Rafe pushes you against the pool table, lifting you on top.

“You should have told me?” He breathes between kisses.

You tug his hair by the root in frustration, making him groan against your lips. “So you could throw it back in my face?” You whimper.

”I wouldn’t have done that,” he whispers as his lips brush against yours. “I’m sorry…”

You tug down the straps of your party dress, pulling down the front as Rafe hikes up your skirt, yanking your panties down your thighs between hungry kisses.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers against your lips, using a softness he’s never used before, his voice rough and laced with need. You whimper against his lips as you tug at his belt and his button, splaying his zipper as your thighs widen on the pool table.

Rafe grabs your bare thighs, holding you apart as his lips ghost over the top of yours. “I like you… I swear. You gotta believe me. I’m tellin’ him tonight. Alright?” Rafe asks as he lowers his pants and his boxers, closing the gap between the two of you. “Can’t watch that shit anymore. I need you. You two are done.”

Shivers fall down your spine at his admittance and the weight of his words. “Rafe…” You moan as his fingers trace slowly up your bare leg, disappearing between your thighs.

“Just say ‘okay’,” he hums. “I don’t even care if you’re lyin’ to me right now. Just tell me that you’re leavin’ him,” he mumbles as his fingers trace through your slick folds, making you gasp. “And that you’re mine,” he hums, pushing two fingers inside. He groans at the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in, his eyes falling low, looking at the lust in your eyes.

“I’m yours,” you whisper as his fingers curl inside you. Making your head fall back as he works them at the perfect pace. His lips connect with your neck, sucking down on your sweet spot. “I’m not lying to you,” you whisper weakly, feeling him breathe a sigh of relief against your neck.

“You’re not lying to me?” He asks as he slips his fingers out of your pussy, pushing them through your lips. You suck around his big digits, looking at him with soft mumbling a muffled ‘no.’ Rafe hooks his hand around your neck, lowering you back on the table. “Say it, princess,” he rasps as he loops his big biceps around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the table.

“I’m not lying, Rafe,” you whisper as he fists his cock, looking down at you, swearing he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“My girl,” he mumbles as he runs his fat tips through your arousal, watching you bite down on your lip—eyes rolling back in your head. “All mine.” Your eyes rest on Rafe again as he focuses on the place where you connect, pushing in slow enough to let you feel all of him. His big hands find your hips, pitching his hips, driving his cock as deep as he can go.

”Fuck, Rafe,” you cry as you shift your hips slightly, but he holds you in place. Your back arches off the tables, hands clawing for something to hold onto. Rafe circles his hips making a moan rip from your through stars dancing in your eyes. “So fucking good,” you whimper.

“That’s my girl. Shit… You like that, huh?” He asks smugly. You bite your lip and nod fast. “Pussy was made for me and only me.” Rafe drags his thick cock out to the tip before, fucking back in.

He looks at you underneath him, praying you’re telling him the truth, hoping that all the shit you were feeding him wasn’t a lie. Your hands wrap around his wrists clutching your hips, the contact grounding him, the look in your eyes telling him you were all his. Rafe’s emotion washes over him like a wave, desperate for your lips on his and his cock sheathed deep.

He reaches down, catching his hand around the back of your neck before drawing you close. His lips crash against yours, rough and messy, mirroring his thrusts as he pounds into your pussy. The connection, your taste, the feeling of your warmth around him, and the softness of your skin was everything and more. Every time he was inside, you felt like heaven; he never imagined it could feel any better than that, but fuck was he wrong.

You hitch your hands around his neck, rolling your body to meet his thrusts, the slick sounds of your wetness and panting breaths filling the space around you. Rafe grunt and groans, wanting to fill you full, fuck you so dumb you’d forget that you had ever let Topper go all the way. But for you, those thoughts were long gone.

“Rafe, just like that,” you whimper as he reaches down, finding your puffy clit, circling his fingers fast as he feels your body about to give way.

“Never want you to say anyone else's name again,” he mumbles against your lips. “Only mine.”

“Only yours…”

“Did he make you cum, princess?” He asks as you feel the thin band in your belly threatening to snap.

“No,” you whisper. “I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

Rafe’s smile spreads along your lips as he fucks it you a little faster, making you grip the edge of the table, knuckles frosting white. “That’s my girl.”

Your pussy flutters around his cock, making him cum with you. Rafe’s lips lock on yours, swallowing your pleasured sounds as he gives you a few more rough thrusts, leaving you melting in his arms.

Click.

Your heart stops as you look around Rafe, light pouring into the dark room from the hallway as you lock eyes with Topper. The two of you fumble, struggling to get your clothes back on like they're fighting against you. Rafe eyes find yours, demanding your focus as you pull up the straps of your dress, feeling the weight of the situation; your heart still banging from your orgasm, Rafe cum dripping warm down your thigh.

“I told you I’d deal with him. Alright?” He whispers firmly as he zips up his pants. And at that moment, you know he will.

“What the hell is this?”

[colouredbyd]

hii,, i've always been a silent reader on your page and love your work! <3 I noticed your requests are open so id like to try (it's my first time requesting ever sorry if its wrong)

I read your fabulous piece We Heal At Last and was wondering if you'd be open to the topic of the marauders (any ship you prefer) helping a reader with dissociative disorder? I've dealt with this for a long time and it's really scary for when it happens when i'm overstimulated pr in public I mean I couldn't help but feel safe in that part where Remus is trying to bring back the reader.

Please do consider only if you're comfortable with the topic! Feel free to delete this one love you 🫶

The Names Of Real Things

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

synopsis: after a Quidditch accident leaves you spiraling into dissociation, Sirius and Remus ground you back to reality with unwavering love and gentle patience. together, you learn that even when the world slips away, love remains the one constant that is always real.

warnings: dissociation, panic attack, breakdowns, injury, fear, mention of hallucination, anxiety, and intrusive thoughts

w/c: 3.6k

a/n: i did lots of research and tried to do this justice, i am so so sorry if this is inaccurate or bad </3 also thank u for being incredibly kind dear anon, i love taking all sorts of requests :D

masterlist

The Quidditch stands thrummed with restless energy, scarlet and gold flags snapping like whips in the wind. Cheers rose and fell in waves, crashing against your senses with a force that felt almost physical.

You were seated beside Remus, perched high in the bleachers, but the noise pressed against you like a living thing—coiling around your ribs, squeezing the breath from your lungs.

Shouts, whistles, the crack of bats against Bludgers—it all swirled together into something primal and unrelenting, a roar that dug its claws deep into your skin, refusing to let go.

You rubbed your palms against your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough to sting, but the roughness of the fabric only made it worse. It scraped and scratched, every sensation sharpening instead of grounding, setting your nerves alight with sparks of discomfort.

Your breathing was uneven, skittering in your chest like something cornered, too shallow to fill your lungs properly.

You couldn’t shake the weight that had been sitting heavy in your chest since you’d woken up that morning—a thick, suffocating thing that you couldn’t name but felt in every part of you.

The noise blurred and stretched, voices distorting, folding over each other until they were nothing but echoes of echoes.

Remus must have noticed the tension in your shoulders because his hand found yours, warm and steady against your palm. His voice slipped through the haze, low and gentle. “You alright, love?”

You nodded too quickly, the motion jerky and disconnected. “Yeah. Fine.” The lie slipped from your tongue with practiced ease, smooth and effortless.

His eyes lingered on you, quiet and observant, as if he were peeling back the layers of you without ever touching them.

He squeezed your hand, his thumb tracing soft circles against your knuckles. “We don’t have to stay, you know,” he murmured, voice wrapped in that gentle warmth only he seemed to possess. "I mean it. We could leave right now. Sneak down to the lake, sit under the beech tree where it's quiet. I’ll even let you steal my scarf again."

A flicker of something close to a smile ghosted over your lips, too fragile to hold. His eyes softened, the corners crinkling just a little. "I just... I want you to be alright," he said, softer now, as if the words might shatter if spoken too loud. "You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

The words hung between you, a lifeline stretched thin, and for a moment you almost reached for it. But the noise was still there, pressing in, crushing the breath out of you, and you nodded again instead, staring out over the pitch as if the sight of it would steady the ground beneath your feet.

You opened your mouth to answer, but the team shot out onto the field in a blur of crimson, and the stadium erupted.

Your gaze snapped to Sirius, hair wild and eyes alight with thrill as he circled the pitch, one hand raised to acknowledge the cheers.

He always looked so free up there, like the world couldn’t touch him, like gravity itself bent around his joy.

For a moment, the tension ebbed, your gaze tracking his movements as if they were the only solid thing in the chaos.

He looped through the air, effortless and unbound, and you found yourself breathing a little deeper, drawn into the rhythm of his flight. But it came back sharper, twisting under your ribs, a whisper of unease that wouldn’t shake loose, a tension that coiled tighter the longer you watched.

It happened too fast.

One minute, Sirius was diving for the Quaffle, his laugh audible even from your seat. The next, a Bludger came screaming from his blind side, iron gleaming like a curse cast in motion.

It slammed into his broom with a sickening crack that rippled across the stadium like a shockwave. He spun out of control, spiraling downward in a blur of red and black, limbs flung wide, momentum snatched from him in an instant.

The world went silent. The stadium roared around you, but you couldn’t hear it.

Everything dulled and pulled away, the edges of your vision fraying until all that remained was the distant figure tumbling through the sky. Madam Hooch’s whistle pierced the air, sharp and shrill, but it felt like it came from somewhere else, another reality.

Remus was on his feet before you even realized, his hand slipping from yours, his voice muffled and far away.

Everything slowed, colors bleeding out of the world, replaced with muted shades of grey and the hollow echo of your heartbeat.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All you could do was watch him fall.

“Stay here. I’ll go check on him,” Remus said firmly, squeezing your hand before disappearing down the stairs two at a time.

Stay here. You tried, you really did, but your heartbeat was a drumline in your ears, deafening and unsteady.

People were moving, voices overlapping, and you couldn’t see Sirius anymore. You stood, legs unsteady, forcing your way down the bleachers despite the throngs of students pressing past you.

By the time you reached the edge of the pitch, they were carrying him toward the castle, his arm slung over James’s shoulder, head lolling forward.

He was conscious, you could see his mouth moving, could hear faint protests about “just a scratch,” but you weren’t convinced.

You moved to follow, only to be met with a firm hand against your shoulder. Madam Pomfrey, stern and unyielding. “No visitors until I’ve checked him over.”

“I just need to.”

“No exceptions. He’ll be fine, but I need space to work.” Her voice was gentle but immovable.

The world started to tilt, sounds warping and stretching like you were underwater. You took a step back, the castle’s stone walls too close, the voices around you too loud, too many, too much.

You turned on your heel and walked, pushing past students who threw you odd glances.

Your footsteps were unsteady, quickening as the pressure in your chest built and built until you were practically running, feet carrying you somewhere, anywhere.

You found an empty classroom on the third floor, dusty and forgotten, and collapsed against the wall, knees pulled to your chest.

The room was dead silent, but your ears still rang with the crowd’s cheers, with the sound of Sirius’s broom cracking against the Bludger.

You blinked, and the world fractured. Your breathing came in short, uneven bursts, the edges of your vision blurring as if you were watching from somewhere far away.

Your hands shook, fingertips brushing against the cold stone floor, but it didn’t feel real.

The room was still and heavy, dust motes swirling in the thin bands of light that slipped through the cracked shutters. It smelled like old parchment and forgotten memories, thick with the silence of something left behind.

You sank to the floor, your back against the cold stone wall, knees pulled tight to your chest. The stone bit into your skin, rough and unyielding, but you barely felt it.

Your hands were trembling, fingers flexing and curling against your legs as if searching for something to hold onto. But there was nothing.

There was only the emptiness, stretching wide and hollow, echoing with whispers you couldn’t quite hear. You tried to breathe, to count each inhale like you were taught, but the air felt too thin, slipping out of your lungs before you could hold it.

Everything felt too far away. The walls stretched back, the light faded, your heartbeat slowed to a dull, distant thud. You pressed your hands harder against your knees, nails digging into the fabric of your robes, but the pressure felt muted, like you were underwater.

You blinked once, twice, and the edges of your vision wavered. The room seemed to fold in on itself, colors bleeding out until all that was left was gray.

Your hands moved in front of your face, but they didn’t feel like yours. They were pale and shaking, fingers stretching and curling, curling and stretching, and you couldn’t make them stop.

It was like falling. Slow and inevitable, like slipping backward into a place you couldn’t name. The sound of your heartbeat faded, replaced by a low hum, steady and unyielding, vibrating beneath your skin.

It was too loud and too soft all at once, pulsing against your ears until it was the only thing left.

Your name drifted through the haze, muffled and distant. You blinked, but the world remained blurred, edges smudged and colors bleeding together like spilled ink.

You couldn’t move. Or maybe you didn’t want to. Maybe it was easier to stay here, where everything was soft and distant, where nothing could touch you.

Time slipped away. Minutes, maybe hours—you couldn’t tell. There was only the stillness, the heavy weight of nothingness pressing down on you.

Your thoughts drifted, scattered and broken, memories flashing like splinters of glass. Sirius falling from his broom. The crack of wood against Bludger. His head slumped forward, hair tangled and wild. The way his hand dangled, limp and unmoving.

But then there was the flicker of doubt, curling slow and insidious, whispering that maybe it had never happened at all. Maybe you had imagined it.

Maybe you were still in the stands, still watching the game, still breathing. Your fingers dug harder into your knees, searching for sensation, for proof that this was real.

But everything felt distant, blunted, like you were touching the world through layers of fog. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the noise to stop, willing the room to settle back into something solid.

But it didn’t. The memory twisted, faded, came back sharper. Sirius’s body dangling. Or maybe not. Maybe he had only stumbled. Maybe he had gotten back up, dusted himself off, and you had just missed it. You couldn’t know.

The image replayed, fractured and incomplete, and you were caught in its web, straining to hold on to something real. But reality slipped through your fingers like sand, scattering before you could grasp it.

Your breath hitched, and the room rippled, lines blurring and stretching. You closed your eyes, but the image burned there, seared into the darkness. You tried to push it away, but it lingered, the crack of impact echoing in your ears, too loud, too sharp.

Something wet slipped down your cheek, and you flinched, the sensation foreign and strange. Your hand reached up, slow and unsteady, brushing against your cheek. Dampness clung to your fingertips. Tears.

You stared at them, uncomprehending, watching the droplets tremble against your skin.

They didn’t feel real. None of it did.

You blinked again, the room shifting back into focus for a moment before fading away. Your chest ached, hollow and splintered, and you tried to breathe, but it came out shaky, uneven.

The walls stretched back further, distant and unreachable, and the floor felt like it was slipping away beneath you.

You were floating. No ground beneath your feet, no air in your lungs, just empty space stretching out forever.

You wondered if you would stay here, suspended in the quiet, untouched and unseen.

You wondered if it would matter.

Your hands curled into fists, nails biting into your palms, but it was distant, a whisper of sensation that barely registered. The world around you continued to drift, colors fading to gray, shapes blurring and stretching until there was nothing left but shadows.

You tried to remember how to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come.

Reality flickered, blinking in and out like the light of a dying star. You could feel it slipping, cracking at the edges. Your breath came in ragged gasps, shallow and sharp, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Your hands clawed at the floor, fingertips scraping against stone, but it may as well have been air. You were weightless, bodiless, scattered in a thousand pieces. And you didn’t know how to come back.

But then there was something. Gentle and warm, fingertips brushing against your cheeks, pressing against the fog.

A voice, steady and soft, filtering through the haze like sunlight breaking through clouds. "Come back to me, baby. I got you. I've always got you."

You didn’t open your eyes. You couldn’t. But the touch remained, grounding and tender, and you felt yourself leaning into it, the warmth seeping back into your bones.

The sensation shifted, and suddenly you were being moved, lifted with such care it nearly broke something in you. You were settled into someone’s lap, arms strong and familiar wrapping around you.

A kiss brushed against the top of your head, soft and patient. "See? Feel that? I’m right here," Sirius murmured, his voice like a tether in the storm.

He pressed your hand to his chest, the beat of his heart steady and strong beneath your palm. "Feel my heart, darlin'. Feel that? It’s still beating for you."

His heartbeat thrummed against your fingertips, real and alive, and you clung to it like a lifeline..

The air around you was thick with the scent of him — faint smoke and leather, a grounding balm against the fog swirling in your mind.

Somewhere nearby, Remus’s voice was soft but clear, cutting through the haze like a gentle anchor.

“Feel Sirius’s heartbeat,” he said, his words deliberate, patient. “That’s real.”

The thump beneath your palm was slow and steady, a pulse that carried you, tethering you to this moment. You focused on it, letting the rhythm seep into your bones. Your breath was shallow but steadying, the cold distance inside you melting just a fraction.

The world remained blurry, the edges softened like wet charcoal smudged across a page, but beneath it, a flicker of certainty sparked.

Remus’s hands were firm but tender on your face, his thumbs tracing the curve of your cheek. His eyes caught yours just for a second, a silent promise lingering in their depths. 

He knelt before you, close enough that you could see the fine lines around his eyes, the way his breath caught in his throat as he waited for you to return.

“Now, that sound in your head — that’s not real,” Remus whispered, voice low and steady. “That voice telling you you’re alone, broken — that’s not real, my love.”

You blinked, slow and heavy, and the fog wavered at the edges. The echoes of panic began to lose their grip, retreating like waves pulling back from the shore.

The silence wasn’t empty anymore; it held space for something else, something softer, something like hope.

Remus shifted slightly, steadying you as your fingers tightened around Sirius’s wrist. “Look at me,” he said. “I’m here. This is real.”

Your eyelids fluttered, the room tilting slightly but holding fast beneath you. Dust motes drifted lazily in the shafts of fading light. The cold stone floor pressed through your robes, rough but unmistakably solid. 

You could smell the faint musk of earth, the sharp tang of old stone — all small but vivid details painting the world back into focus.

“Your hand on my chest,” Sirius murmured close by. “That feeling — that heartbeat — that’s real.”

You let your hand rest there, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, steady and sure. The familiar thrum beneath your palm was a thread weaving you back together.

Somewhere deep inside, a fragile thread of strength twined through the numbness, pulling you from the edge.

Remus’s voice softened again, calm and unwavering. “Those shadows whispering lies — that’s not real. They can’t hurt you.”

The room shifted subtly, colors inching back — muted golds, soft browns, the worn texture of the stone wall.

Your fingers unclenched slightly, trembling less as your body remembered how to be present. The fear lingered, but it was no longer drowning you.

Sirius’s lips brushed gently against the crown of your head, tender and unhurried. “I’m right here,” he breathed. “No harm came to me, I promise. I’m okay, baby.”

The warmth of his breath, the soft press of his lips, the steady beat beneath your palm — they were anchors in a storm that still raged inside you but no longer threatened to swallow you whole.

Remus’s gaze held yours again, steady and sure. “You’re strong. You’re here. That’s real.”

You blinked slower now, the colors sharpening, the shapes resolving. His face was close, lined with worry and hope. 

The faintest smile touched his lips. “There she is. There’s my strong girl.”

“Strongest I know,” Sirius added, voice rough with emotion.

Your chest rose and fell with a shaky breath, each inhale clearer than the last. The room no longer felt like a void but a space filled with voices, warmth, and presence.

“Your breath,” Remus said softly. “That’s real.”

You felt the air as it caught in your throat and slipped through your lips, rough and uneven but yours. The panic that had clawed inside your chest still fluttered faintly but no longer held sway.

“And those thoughts telling you it’s over, that you’re lost — those aren’t real,” Remus said, gentle but firm. “You’re not gone, love. You're right here, with your boys, yeah?”

The truth of his words sank in slowly, like the first warm light of dawn seeping over a dark horizon. You began to feel the small, grounding realities in a world that had felt so fractured.

Sirius pressed your hand onto Remus' heartbeat. “Feel this, darlin’. That’s real.”

You closed your eyes briefly, focusing on the rise and fall beneath your palm. The steady beat, the heat, the undeniable proof of life and love. It was a fragile thing but enough to hold onto.

Remus brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “The stone beneath you, the worn fabric of your robes, the sunlight — those are real.”

You felt the rough texture of stone against your back, the scratch of threadbare cloth against your skin. The sharp scent of earth and musk filled your nose.

You weren’t floating anymore. You were here, tethered by small truths.

“And that crushing weight in your chest, that voice of despair — that’s not real,” Remus said. “It’s the echo of fear, nothing more, 'kay?”

The fog began to clear further, colors deepening, shadows retreating. Your hands stopped trembling. You were not lost. Not yet.

“Your heartbeat,” Sirius said softly, “That thumping beneath your skin — that’s real.”

You moved your fingers slightly, feeling the pulse that matched the rhythm in your chest, slow and sure. It was a tether you could hold.

Remus’s eyes searched yours, steady and filled with unspoken promises. “And those lies that tell you you’re weak — those aren’t real. You're the bravest girl ever, my bravest girl.”

You let out a shaky breath, the sound small but certain. The room breathed with you, alive and present.

“Your voice,” Remus said gently, “Even if you can’t speak yet, even if the silence feels endless — that’s real.”

You tried to move your lips, a faint sound rasping out. It was weak but unmistakably yours.

“And the silence that screams in your head — that’s not real,” Remus said. “You’re not alone.”

Sirius pulled you closer, careful and steady. “Hold on to me. As tight as you need, love. I wont break. I'm yours to hold.”

You wondered if you would stay here, suspended in the quiet, untouched and unseen. You wondered if it would matter.

But then you leaned into Remus, slow and unsteady, the space between you folding like something fragile.

His arms came around you, strong and sure, holding you like you might break but wouldn’t. Sirius's hand pressed firm and steady against your back, his lips brushing the top of your head, his heartbeat drumming beneath your palm.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, voice breaking just slightly, like he’d been waiting too long to say it.

Remus’s hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away tears you hadn’t realized you’d shed. “We love you, more than anything in this wide world.” he said, firm and gentle.

“I love you. I love you so much it aches. I'll keep saying it over and over until you feel it, until you're back here with me."

Yet the doubts still lingered in the back of your mind, pushing hard and trying to surface to drown you in everything that wasn’t real.

“Real or not real?” you asked, voice trembling but sure.

Remus smiled, soft and sure. “Real,” he whispered. “Nothing is ever more real than this.”

You felt it then, the weight of their presence, the solidness of their bodies pressed against yours. Real.

Real in a way nothing else was. It anchored you, brought you back from the edges of that empty, floating void.

And maybe that thing you cannot name might find you sometimes, might whisper your fears and doubts into the quiet spaces of your mind. But Sirius and Remus would always be there to name everything that was real and everything that wasn’t, to remind you of what was solid, what was unbreakable.

Sirius pressed another kiss to your temple, his hands firm and steady against you. “You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured. “Because you’ve got us. No matter what.”

And maybe you would still drift sometimes, maybe the haze would creep back in, but you would always find your way out of it. Because you weren’t alone. Not anymore.

And if that thing you cannot name finds you again, if it tries to call your fears to the surface, Sirius and Remus will be there. They will name everything real and not real. They will guide you back, every single time.

[lee-laurent]

A Love Like No Other - Quinn Hughes

Summary: faye's whole life gets turned upside down

content: angst, pregnancy, making out, refrences to sex, dirty jokes, fluff, panic attacks, body image issues

wc: 17.8k

notes: i'll make a part 2 if you guys want! this took me ages

"I told you I'm fine, Mom," Faye sighed down the phone, continuing to highlight vocabulary words in her textbook.

"Are you sure? Your dad and I could make a trip to help out. Make sure things are-"

"Mom, you guys don't need to do that," Faye sat back in her chair, pressing her palm against the small but growing bump underneath her very oversized hoodie. It was always like this when her mom called--concern that bordered on suffocation.

"Well that Hughes boy isn't, so we just feel--"

"Quinn is busy, Mom. He's working," Faye gritted her teeth, trying to maintain her composure. It wasn't like Quinn could drop everything and come running every time she needed something. He had his own life...that was over 2,000 miles away.

"You and you're health should be his priority, Faye. It's not just about him anymore." Her mom's voice took on that disappointed edge, the one that always made Faye feel small. "You're carrying his baby and he's playing hockey like nothing has changed."

Faye squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over her and it wasn't entirely from the pregnancy. "I told you, he's helping in his own way. We talk. He's... trying." The words felt flimsy leaving her mouth. Like she was defending him way more than she needed to. Or maybe she was defending herself.

Her mom sighed. "I just want what's best for you, sweepea. Your senior year should be about school, not... this."

And there it was. The disappointment. The subtle reminder of everything Faye was now balancing. Projects, assignments, a baby growing inside her, and parents who could barely look at her the same way since she'd told them. It wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"I know, Mom," Faye sounded exhausted. "I've got it under control. I'm handling it." Even if some days it felt like she was hanging on by a thread.

"Okay. But remember, your dad and I are just a phone call away. If you need anything. Anything at all."

"I know." Faye swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I'll talk to you later, okay? I've got class in a bit."

"Alright, honey. Take care of yourself."

As Faye ended the call, she stared at the phone for a long moment, her thumb hovering over Quinn's name in her contact list. They hadn't talked much lately... not really. It was like there was an invisible wall between them, something neither of them knew how to address. Or maybe they just didn't want to.

She dropped the phone onto her desk and stood up, pushing away the overwhelming feelings of fear and isolation that were creeping in. She had class, a paper due, and a prenatal appointment next week. No time to fall apart.

Now how did Faye get into her current position? Well... it was quite the story.

~~

The early summer air had a way of making everything feel lighter. All anxieties faded into the background as the music thumped through the backyard. Faye hadn't planned on going to the party, but Ethan had insisted, dragging her away for one night relaxation.

She stepped into the crowded house, the smell of cheap beer and sweat hitting her like a wall. She scanned the room for familiar faces, relieved when she spotted a few of the hockey boys gathered around the kitchen table, laughing about something she couldn't hear over the noise.

"Faye!" Luca waved her over, a large smile on his face. "We're playing pong. You in?"

She smiled back, shaking her head. "Maybe later. I'm gonna grab something to drink first." She was already regretting not staying home.

She made her way over to a cooler, but a light tap on her shoulder made her turn around. She was met with a slightly familiar face. Quinn Hughes. She knew him from being friend's with Luke's friends. They'd met once before... maybe twice. She wasn't really sure. But he looked relaxed, a grin tugging at his lips, a beer in his hand.

"Hey, funny seeing you here," he said, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Yeah, well, Luke and his friends can be persuasive," Faye replied with a light laugh.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. "You look like you could use something stronger than whatever's in that cooler."

Faye glanced at him, the casual way he leaned against the counter, his presence somehow more noticeable than the dozens of the other people crammed into the house. She bit her lip, weighing her options. It was just a drink at a party. "Maybe you're right," she smiled.

Quinn took her to take a shot with him. Then he went he passed her a cold beer from the fridge, a smile on his face. "They keep the good shit in the fridge."

She hestitated a second, but took it, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. "Thanks."

Quinn grabbed himself another beer, popping it open with ease. "So," he said, leaning back against the counter again, eyes on her, "what's a girl like you doing hanging out with a bunch of hockey degenerates?"

Faye laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Oh, I've got connections," she said, nodding toward the group of guys still crowded around the table. "I'm friend's with your brother's old teammates. You know, the up-and-comers. Met them all first year."

"Up-and-comers, huh?" Quinn smirked. "That makes me feel old."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips turning up into a teasing smile. "You are old. What are you, like 23 now? And still hanging around college parties?"

Quinn let out a low laugh. "I've still got friends here, you know," he said, lifting his beer to his lips. "Besides, I'm not that old."

"Right, you're ancient," she teased. "At least for a college party."

"I'm not out of place. I mean, I can still outdrink everyone here," he leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Think you can keep up?"

"I think I can handle you, Hughes."

"Yeah? I like that."

She chuckled, feeling the lightness in the air between them, the chatter of the party fading into the background as they stood in their own little party. "So, does Vancouver know they've got an alcoholic captain, or is that a secret?"

Quinn put a hand on his chest in mock offence. "Alcoholic? You're really going for it tonight, huh?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Maybe I can prove you wrong."

"Maybe," Faye challenged. She wasn't sure if it was the beer or the way his gaze lingered on hers, but she felt like the whole moment could turn any second. Her usual defences of casual flirting and trying to play it cool, felt harder to maintain with Quinn standing so close.

"You're bold. I like that."

"I try."

"Guess I'll have to step up my game," Quinn said, his eyes flicking down to her lips for just a second. She would've missed it if she blinked. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Faye's pulse raced as Quinn leaned in just enough for their faces to be meer inches apart.

"So," his voice was low and teasing, "are you always this hard to impress, or is just me?"

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to do something impressive," she tilted her head.

"Alright," he said softly like it was a dare. "Let's see if I can impress you."

Before Faye could respond, Quinn's lips were on hers. The kiss started slow and tentative, but quickly deepened as the spark between them came to life. Faye's heart was racing, her hand reaching out instinctively to steady herself, fingers brushing against his chest. All she could focus on was the heat of Quinn's mouth on hers and the way his hand gently gripped her waist, pulling her closer.

When they broke apart, her breath was short, her pulse still sky-high. Quinn's forehead leaned softly against hers. "Impressed yet?"

"Not bad, Hughes. Not bad."

She glanced around the crowded kitchen, suddenly aware of the fact that they were still in the middle of a party, surrounded by people. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, she looked back at Quinn, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You know," she started, her tone casual but with an unmistakable undertone of suggestion, "my place is just a couple blocks from here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Faye replied, stepping back. "If you want to... get out of here."

Quinn didn't hesitate, his eyes still locked on her. "Lead the way."

With a smile, Faye took him by the hand, pulling him gently out the back door, the party fading away as they made their way down the street.

Faye walked alongside Quinn, her hand still loosely intertwined with his as they made their way down the quiet street to her apartment. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, a shared anticipation hanging in the air.

Faye fumbled with her keys for a second before getting the door unlocked. She held it open for Quinn, watching as he took in the cozy studio.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," Faye replied, her casual confidence from the party now felt a bit more fragile in her apartment.

He smiled at her, the same easy grin he'd worn all night, and for a second, she wondered if he was feeling just as unsure as she was.

"So... what now?"

Faye smirked, stepping closer. "I think we left off somewhere around here."

She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. This was one deeper, hungrier, messier than the one they shared at the party. Neither of them was holding back anymore.

Quinn's hands found a place on her waist, tugging her flush against his body. The soft sounds of their breaths and the rustle of their clothes were the only sound filling the apartment. As the kiss intensified, Faye's hands slid into his hair as he pressed her against the wall. For a moment, she broke the kiss, breathing heavily with her forehead pressed against his.

"You good?" his voice carrying a hint of concern.

She nodded as she leaned in to kiss him again. This time softer and slower, savoring the moment. "I'm good," she whispered against his lips. Quinn smiled into the kiss, and they continued to her bed, the outside world disappearing completely.

~~

Faye lay back against her pillows, the sheets pulled loosely over her chest, her body still warm and buzzing. She glanced at Quinn, who was lying beside her, one arm slung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

There was an unspoken understanding between them. It wasn't love. It wasn't anything serious. Just two people enjoying a night that neither of them had planned.

Quinn shifted, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at her, a lazy smile on his face. "So, you impressed yet?"

Faye couldn't help but laugh. "You're really fishing for compliments, huh?" she teased, nudging him with her foot under the blankets.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He stretched, then slowly sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.

Faye propped herself up on her elbow, watching as he reached down for his jeans. "So... what's the plan now?"

Quinn shrugged, slipping on his jeans and glancing back at her. "I should probably get going," he said, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. "Got some stuff to take care of tomorrow." He looked at her as if he was deciding to say something else or not. But he decided against it.

Faye nodded, not feeling any kind of disappointment. It was exactly what she'd expected. "Yeah, makes sense," she pulled the sheets tighter around herself. "I've got summer class work to do anyway."

There was no need for goodbyes or long explanations. It had been fun, casual, uncomplicated. Just how it was supposed to be.

Quinn finished lacing his shoes and glanced back at her. "This was... cool."

"Yeah, it was. No strings, right?"

"No strings," he echoed, moving toward the door, hesitating just for a second before opening it. "Take care of yourself, Faye."

"You too, Hughes." The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Faye lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind clear. It had been a fun night--nothing more, nothing less.

~~

Faye sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the white stick in her hands. Two pink lines.

She blinked, her mind desperately trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. Two lines. Not one. Two. Her stomach churned as the realization slowly set in, sending her world into a spin.

It couldn't be real.

She stood up suddenly, dropping the test on the floor like it had burned her hands. Her hands shook, and she pressed them to her face, trying to breathe, to calm the panic that was rising in her chest. It wasn't possible. She'd been careful. Mostly.

The memory of the night with Quinn flashed through her mind, quick and very much uninvited. The way they had laughed, kissed, fallen into bed with that easy, casual energy, no strings attached. And no condom either.

That night had been something she was supposed to leave behind. But now she couldn't.

Her phone buzzed on her nightstand, filling the silence of her room. Faye glanced at it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw her mom's name on the screen.

"Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetie! Just checking in. How's everything going? Classes good?" Her mom's voice was warm and cheerful, completely oblivious to what was storming in her daughter's head.

"Yeah, uh, everything's fine," Faye replied, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Just... busy, you know. Summer classes and all that."

"Well, I'm sure you're managing fine, like always." Her mom's voice was full of pride, but it only made Faye feel worse. If she knew... if she knew about this...

"Yeah." Her eyes darted back to the test lying on her bed. Those two pink lines taunting her, screaming at her that nothing was fine. "I'm managing."

She had to tell someone. Eventually. But not now. Not yet. Not when she had barely processed it herself. How could she explain it to her parents? To her friends? Hell, how was she going to tell Quinn?

Quinn.

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought of telling him. She barely knew him.

Her mom's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Faye? Sweetie, are you sure you're okay? You sound... off."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. I'll call you later, okay?"

There was a brief pause, but thankfully, her mom didn't press further. "Okay, honey. Just take care of youself. And remember if you need anything--"

"I know. Thanks, Mom. I'll talk to you later."

She dropped the phone on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She felt like she was suffocating. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she fought to calm down, to push away the fear that was eating her whole.

Why was this happening? What was she going to do? How could she do senior year with a baby on the way? How was she going to tell her parents? And Quinn... what would she even say?

She had to think clearly. Step by step. She wasn't ready to tell anyone yet--not her parents, not her friends, not Quinn. But she had to talk to him. He deserved to know. No matter what she decided, he needed to be a part of this conversation.

But how?

They hadn't exactly exchanged numbers that night. Faye knew she could probably get his contact info from Luke's friends--Ethan or Luca--but how was she supposed to ask for his question without raising questions? She didn't want anyone knowing the reason why. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Her eyes flickered to the pregnancy test on the floor, the two lines staring back at her, a reminder of the secret she was now carrying alone.

~~

Faye tapped her fingers against her phone screen, staring at the group chat she had with some of the hockey guys she'd gotten close to over the years. She had to figure out how to word her request without making it obvious.

Hey, can I get Quinn's number? Totally normal, right?

She sighed, locking her phone and tossing it beside her. No matter how she phrased it, they'd ask questions. They'd want to know why she needed Quinn's number when she barely knew him. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to guess what was going on before she ahad the chance to figure it out herself.

There was no avoiding it. She had to talk to Quinn.

Her fingers flew over her keyboard before she could second-guess herself.

Faye: hey, does anyone have quinn's number? need to ask him something abt the canucks for a summer class project

Her heart raced as soon as she hit send, the lie hanging in the air. It wasn't a complete stretch--she was in communications, after all--but she felt a pang of guilt lying to her friends. Hopefully, they'd just let it go. No questions. No suspicion.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. It was Ethan.

Ethan: You need it for a project? That's kinda random, Faye. You good?

Of course he'd ask questions.

Faye: yeah, it's for a case study thing about sports teams. i figured since i knew some of you guys, i could reach out to a player i've actually met instead of just cold-calling some rando

Ethan: Makes sense, I guess. Hang on, I'll ask Lukey boy for it

At least he seemed to be buying her story now. She stared at her phone, her nerves making it feel like ages before he responded.

Ethan: Here you go. Don't tell Quinn I gave it to you for a project tho. He'll probs think it's weird lol

Followed by Quinn's number.

She copied his number and created a new contact. Staring at his name on her screen felt like she was a step closer to the edge of something terrifying and unknown. She couldn't just sit on it. She had to text him.

But what could she say? "Hey remember me? We hooked up, and oh, by the way, I'm pregnant"? It was ridiculous, but she had to start somewhere.

Faye: hey, it's faye. we met at the hockey house like a month and a half ago. can we talk?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear. But they didn't. A few minutes passed. Nothing.

Maybe he was busy. Or maybe he didn't even remember her. Either way, she'd have to figure out something soon. She couldn't just not think about this. She had to handle it.

But all she could do for the time being was wait.

~~

Quinn had just gotten back from training with Jack and Luke at a gym near their home in Michigan. All he wanted to do was crash on the couch, maybe play a round of 'chel with his brothers or scroll through his phone before taking a long nap. The grind was constant during the offseason, but he liked to be busy.

He slumped onto the couch, grabbing his phone to check if he'd missed anything during his practice session. That's when he noticed a text from a number he didn't have saved.

Faye? He had to think about it for a second before it clicked. She was an acquaintance of Luke's, someone he'd hooked up with at that party he went to at Umich. He hadn't really thought about it much since then--it had been a one-night stand. Just one night of fun.

But the way her message was phrased didn't seem like a casual "what's up" kinda text. Something about it felt off. So, he replied quickly.

Quinn: Yeah, I remember. What's up?

Faye: can we talk? it's kinda important

Important? His heart raced. She hadn't been weird that night. They'd both agreed it was just a one and done kinda deal. Maybe she needed something. Maybe it was something about Luke, or-- No, it was probably nothing.

Quinn: Sure, what's going on?

Faye: i don't really wanna do this over text. can i call you?

He sat up the straighter on the couch, his heart beating faster. This wasn't normal. Faye didn't sound like she was asking for a favour. His fingers hovered over the screen, before he typed back his response, thinking of the best wording.

Quinn: Yeah, I can talk. Gimme a sec. I'll call you

He headed up to his room, closing the door. He assumed it wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in the living room where his brothers and parents could hear. His gut told him that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. Maybe she had crabs or something. He tapped the call button, and after a few rings, Faye picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey." Her voice sounded different. Shaky, like she was trying to keep herself together.

"So... what's going on?" he asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, waiting for her to speak.

There was a long pause on the other end, and he was considering checking to see if the line had dropped.

"I... I don't really know how to say this," Faye said finally, her voice faltering. "But I'm just going to say it."

He could practically hear her breathing heavily on the other end. He waited, his nerves eating him alive.

"I'm pregnant."

For a second, he didn't move, didn't say anything. His brain was still trying to process what he'd just heard. Pregnant? Did she just say she was... no, surely he just heard wrong.

"What?" his mind was struggling to keep up. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant, Quinn." Her voice was steadier, though she still sounded just as scared as he felt. "And it's yours."

Quinn's thoughts raced, spinning out of control. He plus thundered in his ear, drowning out anything else she was saying. How? How could this be happening? They'd only hooked up once. They'd been... no they hadn't. Shit. Once was all it took.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Quinn? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here." His voice sounded far away, even to himself.

Pregnant?

"Are you sure?" The question slipped out before he could stop himself, and he winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course, she's sure.

"I took two tests, but I, uh, I'll schedule an appointment with the campus clinic. I... I just found out today."

"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. This was... a lot. He ran his hand through his hair again, pulling at the roots. He hadn't spoken to Faye since that night. And she was pregnant? With his baby?

"Yeah."

Neither of them really knew what to say. Quinn's brain was flipping through every possible scenario. His hockey career, his family, his entire future. Everything was crashing down on him at once.

"So what now?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," Faye admitted. "I'm still processing it, honestly. I haven't told anyone yet... you're the first."

The thought of being the first person she had told, hit him harder than he could have expected. He swallowed hard, a sense of responsibility creeping in even through the shock. He might not know Faye well, but it wasn't just about him anymore.

She's pregnant with his baby. His.

"I'm keeping it... I think. Like I know this is a lot, but I'm going to keep the baby."

He knew what he had to say next, even if he didn't fully understand it yet.

"I'll be there," he said suddenly, even catching himself off guard. "I mean... I'll help however I can. I'll be there for you. For the baby."

Faye was quiet for a moment, and Quinn was worried that he'd said the wrong thing.He barely knew her. How could he promise something like that? But the thought of leaving her all alone to deal with this felt wrong. Even if they weren't together, it was his responsibility too.

"You don't have to say that. I'm not asking for anything."

"No, I mean it. I'll be there. I don't know how, but... I'll, uh, figure it out." He rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders.

"I appreciate that," she replied softly. "I know this is... a lot. I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this, but I didn't really know what else to do."

"It's okay," Quinn lied. "I'm glad you told me."

There was another long pause, the air between them feeling more and more awkward. This was just the beginning of a conversation that was going to change everything for them.

"So, I guess... we'll figure this out?" Quinn said, trying to make it sound like he had some clue of what came next.

"Yeah. We figure this out."

He stared at his phone long after the call ended, his thumb still hovering over the screen like he might call her back, as if there was more he could say.

I'm pregnant. And it's yours.

He leaned back against his headboard, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. How had his life changed so quickly? One minute he was gearing up for summer training, focusing on hockey, and the next... he was going to be a father.

Father. The word made his stomach churn. He wasn't ready for that. Hell, he could barely manage taking care of himself, let alone another tiny human. How was he supposed to do this?

Nothing made sense. They hadn't spoken since that night. Just some stupid drunken hookup. He believed her when she said it was. But there was a part of him, a part of him that felt like a dick to say it, but what if it was another guy's. Was she 100% sure it was his? What if she asked for paternity test? No, that was too far. Way too far.

His phone buzzed. But it was a group text from Jack, something about dinner in a bit. He couldn't deal with that right now. He wasn't ready to face his brothers, or anyone for that matter. What would he even say. What could he even say?

Hey, guys, by the way, I just found out I'm going to be a dad.

He stood up abruptly, pacing his bedroom. What would his parents say? What would Luke say when he found out it was Faye? What about his team? Could this mess up his career? It was only his second season of captaincy. He couldn't take a break to look after a pregnant college student.

He stopped, standing in front of his dresser, his hands gripping the edge of the wood. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and he barely recognized himself. His face was pale, his hair a mess, his eyes wide with panic.

I'm going to be a dad. The thought sent a new wave of anxiety crashing over him. He didn't know the first thing about babies or fatherhood. He hadn't planned for this. He wasn't ready for this. But it didn't matter anymore. Faye was already pregnant.

Quinn's phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Faye.

thanks for taking my call. i know it was a lot. but we will figure this out

Figure it out. Easier said than done. His first instinct was to respond, to say something reassuring. But what? The words just didn't come. He didn't want to lie to her. He wasn't even sure he knew how to be the person that she needed.

He didn't respond. Unable to deal with it then. He needed time. Time to think. Time to process. Time to figure out how he was gonna make this work.

He sat back on his bed, his legs bouncing. He thought about his parents. How disappointed they'd be, how they'd probably give him the "we're here for you, but you messed up" speech. He thought about Faye, about how scared she must be, and how, despite everything, she'd told him first. Not her friends. Not her family. Him.

That alone felt like some sort of strange responsibility. She could ever kept it to herself, could have avoided telling him until much later, but she hadn't. Now he was all in. Whether he was ready or not.

Saying that he'd be there for her and the baby was easy in the moment. But now he wasn't so sure. Could he be a dad while balancing everything else in his life?

He needed to talk to someone. Jack? Luke? No, not yet. He wasn't ready for that conversation. He couldn't handle their reactions, not while he was still freaking out. His phone buzzed again, a call this time. From Jack. He didn't answer, instead placing his phone under his pillow. He let out a few long, shaky breaths.

For now, all he could do was wrap his head around it. He had made a promise to Faye, and no matter how scared he was, he couldn't back out of it now. But what came next? He had no idea.

~~

Faye stared at the stack of textbooks on her desk, the words blurring together as she rubbed her eyes. It had only been a couple weeks since the semester had started, but she already felt like she was drowning. Her professors had no idea what she was going through, and she wasn't exactly in a rush to tell them. The fewer people that knew, the better.

She rested her hand lightly on her stomach, feeling the slight curve under her shirt. If anything it looked like she was very, slightly bloated. It wasn't very obvious. Three months. It was still early, but she could feel the changes. The nausea, the exhaustion, how she felt like napping after walking 15 minutes to class. How was she supposed to handle this? Classes, assignments, the baby? It was all too much.

Her phone buzzed on her desk with a message from Quinn.

How're you feeling? Everything good?

Quinn had been checking in regularly since she'd told him, but their conversations were brief. Surface-level. He was busy with training camp and preseason stuff in Vancouver, and she was busy trying to keep her head above water in Michigan. They lived in two differernt worlds, and no matter how many times he texted, the distance between them felt impossible to bridge.

Faye: tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good

She typed the words quickly, not wanting to burden him with how she was actually feeling. What was the point? He had his own life, his own career to focus on. Besides, she had immediate problems... like how she was going to tell her parents. They knew something was off. They'd been calling more often, asking questions, but she kept brushing them off, making excuses. She wasn't ready to face their disappointment. Not yet.

There was a knock at her door. Her friend and neighbour, Casey, peeked her head in. "Hey, you okay? You've been quiet lately."

"Yeah, just tired. I have a ton of work to do."

"You sure? You've been looking... kinda pale lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed, Cas."

"Okay, well, I'm just down the hall if you need anything."

Faye exhaled slowly as her friend left, her fingers brushing her stomach. Soon, more people would start asking questions, and she wasn't ready with answers.

~~

Quinn scrolled through his phone, staring at Faye's message. "tired. got a ton of work. but i'm good." He frowned, feeling the distance betwen them more and more everyday. He'd been checking in, but their conversations were always short. It wasn't enough. But how could it be when he was over 2,000 miles away?

Training camp had just started, and the pressure was already mounting. It was his second year as captain, and everyone had expectations--his coaches, his teammates, his friends, his family. There was barely time to breathe, let along figure out fatherhood.

He didn't know how to be there for Faye. Every time he texted, he just felt like he was checking off a box. He really did want to do more, but how? He was stuck there and there wasn't room for distractions.

But Faye wasn't a distraction. She was... something else.

His phone buzzed again. This time with a message from Petey.

Dinner in 10?

Quinn sighed, pushing himself off the couch. He didn't feel like going out, but avoiding his friends wasn't going to solve anything. He needed to keep his head straight. Focus. But even as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, his mind stayed on Faye.

~~

The phone call from her mom came earlier than expected.

"Faye," her mom's voice was laced with concern. "Honey, are you okay? You've been so distant lately. Your dad and I are worried."

She'd been dodging this conversation for weeks, but there was no avoiding it now. Her parents knew something was wrong, and she couldn't keep hiding.

"I'm fine, Mom." Her voice cracked, and she knew her mom had picked up on it.

"You don't sound fine, sweetpea. Is something going on? School? Your health? Please talk to me."

Faye closed her eyes, there was no easy way to do this. "Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I'm... I'm pregnant."

The silence on the other end was deafening. Her mom didn't say anything for what felt like forever, and when she finally spoke, her voice was tight. "What? Faye, what are you talking about?"

"I'm pregnant," Faye repeated. "I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

"With who, Faye? Who's the father?"

Faye hesitated, her heart racing. "Quinn."

"Your friend Luke's brother? The hockey player?" She sounded shocked.

"Yes."

Her mom's voice hardened. "Faye, how could let this happen? How could you throw your future away like this?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen. It just... did."

"But now you're stuck," her mom snapped. "This boy has completely derailed your life. Your senior year, your future--all of it, gone! Poof! What is he going to do about it, huh? Keep playing hockey like nothing happened?"

Faye bit her lip, holding back her tears. "He's trying to help. He's... he's going to be there."

"Be there?" her mom scoffed. "How? He's in Vancouver, Faye? You think he's going to stop everything and come running every time you need him? You're fooling yourself."

"I'm handling it, Mom. I'm figuring it out."

"You shouldn't have to figure this out. He should be stepping up, Faye. You deserve better than this."

Faye couldn't say anything. Her mom was angry, but more than that, she was disappointed. And that was the worst part. No matter how much Faye wanted to believe she could handle this on her own, the reality of it was that she knew she couldn't.

The call came late that night, after Quinn had had dinner with Brock and Petey. He'd just gotten home when his phone buzzed with a call from Faye.

"I told my parents."

Quinn sat down, his heart racing. "How'd they take it?"

"They're pissed. They think you've ruined my life. My mom... she think I'm throwing my future away."

Guilt settled in Quinn's stomach. "Faye, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

"I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But I'm the one who has to deal with them. You're not here."

The words stung, even though he knew they weren't meant to hurt. Faye was right. He was in Vancouver, while she was stuck dealing with things on her own.

"I'm trying, Faye. I want to help. I just... don't know how."

"I know. But it's hard. And I'm scared."

Her voice cracked at the end and Quinn felt his heart break. He hated that she going through it all alone, but he didn't know what to do to help.

"We'll figure it out, okay?"

"Yeah."

But the words felt hollow. Like she'd given up on him being there. And Quinn knew that "figuring it out" was going to be a lot harder than either of them realized.

~~

It was mid-term season and campus somehow seemed quieter. The October air had settled, bringing out heavier coats and the crunch of fall leaves. Faye at her desk, trying to focus on her computer, but all she could think about was how tight her jeans felt that morning.

She had switched to only wearing oversized sweaters and hoodies to hide her growing bump. The baby had started to feel more real over the last few days. Her morning sickness had faded for the most part, but now her back had a constant ache. She was falling behind on assignments, skipping study sessions, and avoiding her friends. She couldn't keep pretending everything was normal. Her mom had been encouraging her to go to student services and tell them about her situation. Apparently the school was supposed to help pregnant students and students with children.

Quinn: You okay? Haven't heard from you in four days

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to Quinn--it was just that every time they texted, she felt like she was letting him down by not being stronger, by not being more put together. He was busy with hockey and she was trying not to let her life fall apart all the time.

Faye: yeah, just busy with school. midterms

It was mostly the truth, she was drowning in schoolwork but most of it was that her body was changing faster than she could keep up with. She'd gone up two entire bra cup sizes in a month and new ones were not cheap. But she felt like that was a weird detail to drop on Quinn. Her mom said it wasn't, since he was the father of her child, but Faye disagreed.

She felt more isolated than ever, and she felt that that feeling would just get worse the further along she was. She needed to tell her friends still and it was just a matter of time until someone noticed something was up.

~~

Faye had been invited to the hockey house for a movie night. If she said no they'd definitely know something was up, because she never missed a movie night with the guys. Bowls of popcorn and beers were spread out across the coffee table, and the TV blasted with some shit horror movie they'd found.

Faye had a watter bottle in her hand, keeping it close to her chest, hoping nobody would notice she wasn't drinking. But she could feel their eyes on her already. It wasn't the first time she'd skipped drinking during their hangouts, but the guys didn't want her to think they were peer pressuring her.

"Hey, Faye," Dylan called out. "What's with the water? You've been off booze for weeks."

She glanced at him, then quickly at the others, who were all staring and waiting for an explanation.

"I just... haven't felt like drinking."

But Ethan shook his head, setting down his beer. "Come on, Faye. You haven't felt like drinking since the summer. That's not the Faye we know and love."

"You've been distant. Is something going on?" Mark added.

Time to come clean. She took a deep breath, setting her water bottle down on the table. "I... I need to tell you guys something."

"What is it, Faye?"

She looked down at her hands, lifting up the bottom of her sweater. Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm pregnant."

"Wait... what?" Dylan asked, blinking in shock. "You're pregnant."

"Yeah. I'm almost four months."

"Four months? Did you get with someone at the party? Last person I saw you talking with was..."

"It's Quinn's?"

"Yeah. It's Quinn's."

"Holy shit, Faye. That's... wow."

"I know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't know how to tell you guys. I didn't want you to look at me differently."

"Faye, we're your friends. We're here to help you, support you. Not to judge you. You don't need to go through this alone."

"Thanks, guys. I, uh, I'm not fully alone. My parents know. And Quinn. He's... trying to be supportive."

"Does Luke know?"

"Not if Quinn didn't tell him. Luke and I don't really talk that much."

The looks of concern on their faces, the way they were all pitying her made her stomach hurt. She hated it. She didn't want people to be sorry for her. She just wanted everyone to act like things were normal, even thought things would never be the same.

"I need some air," she sighed, grabbing her jacket.

~~

Luke was laying on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he saw a text from Ethan come through.

Ethan: Hey man, Faye just told the group she's pregnant. It's Quinn's apparently. Didn't know they were seeing each other ngl

Luke blinked, rereading the text a few times to make sure he read it correctly. Faye was pregnant? And Quinn was the dad? Quinn hadn't told him he was going to be a dad, let alone that he was seeing Faye.

Luke: You serious? Quinn never said anything???

Ethan: Yeah, dude. She's almost four months along. She showed us the bump. Seemed legit

Without thinking he pulled up Quinn's contact, shooting him a message.

Luke: What the hell man? Why didn't you tell me that you're seeing Faye and that she's pregnant???

Quinn’s stomach dropped as he stared at Luke’s text. His chest tightened with guilt--a guilt he had been pushing to the side for weeks. He hadn’t told Luke, hadn’t told his parents. Hell, he hadn’t even processed it himself. But the truth was out now, and the window to figure things out on his own was gone. He decided to call Luke, instead of texting about it.

"Hey."

"Hey? That's all you have to say after I just found out you're dating one of my college friends and she's pregnant?"

"We... we're not dating. We hooked up at that party the hockey guys threw. Look, I know I should've told you. I just... yeah."

"How about starting with the fucking truth?" Luke scoffed. "You haven't told you family? You can't keep that kinda shit from us."

"I know. I'm going to tell everyone. I just... had to figure shit out with Faye first."

"Next family FaceTime. You should tell everyone. Mom and Dad will help out... probably."

Luke was right. Secret was out and if he didn't tell the family soon, someone else would. He had to tell them sooner rather than later.

~~

Quinn sat in front of his laptop, staring blankly at the screen. His family's faces were staring back at him through the familiar layout of their family FaceTime session. Jim and Ellen in one square, Jack and Luke in another. He hadn't added much to the conversation yet, just letting out a couple half-hearted laughs when someone cracked a joke.

Luke had been on his case all week. Ever since the news had been handed to Luke through his friends, Quinn had felt like his walls were closing in on him. He wondered if that's how Faye felt too.

Ellen was in the middle of asking Jack and Luke about their latest game when Quinn cleared his throat. "Hey, guys," his voice was much more strained than he'd planned. "There's something I need to tell you guys."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "What's up, Quinn?"

He had rehearsed this a hundred times in his head, but the words were stuck in his throat now that he had to say it out loud. He glanced at Luke, who just gave me a slight nod.

"I, um... I'm going to be a dad."

Ellen blinked, her smile faltering. "Wait... what?"

"I... Faye, one of Luke's friends from Umich, she's pregnant. I'm the dad."

Jack was the first to react, his eyes wide. "Holy shit, Quinn. You serious?"

"Yeah. She's almost four months."

Ellen pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh my god, Quinn. Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't know how. I've been trying to figure things out with Faye, but... it's been really hard."

"Quinn, this is big. Have you thought about how you're going to handle this and your career?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I'm still working through it all. Faye's in Michigan and I'm here, so... I'm just trying to be supportive."

"Oh, sweetheart. We'll help however we can. I wish you would've come to us sooner. You don't have to go through this alone. And neither does Faye. We'd be more than happy to help her out."

Quinn nodded, appreciating his mom's comforting words. He hadn't figured out how he was going to balance everything--hockey, the pregnancy, his future with Faye and the baby--but at least his family knew now.

"You did the right thing, Quinn," Luke nodded.

~~

Faye stood in front of the mirror, smoothering her hands over her flowly tank top. She had agreed to a girls' night out after they'd all finished their midterms, and she was really planning on making it through the night without raising any suspicions. Her friends, Casey and Sarah, were already getting ready, throwing clothes around her apartment and laughing.

Faye had told them she wasn't going to drink because alcohol made her stomach hurt--which wasn't technically a lie. But it also wasn't the whole truth. She was trying to pull her favourite pair of jeans on, only realizing that they didn't button up.

She stared down at the small gap between the button and the buttonhole, her hands trembling. That was it. None of her jeans fit anymore.

"Faye, you almost ready?" Sarah called from the bathroom, sticking her head out as she did her hair. "We're running late!"

"Yeah. Just... gimme a minute."

She stood there, her hands still on the waistband of her jeans. Casey walked over, her eyes scanning Faye's reflection in the mirror. "Did you like... get a boob job or something?" she asked, half-joking. "You look different."

Faye wanted to brush it off with a laugh and make up a lie, but when she glanced at her reflection all she wanted to do was cry. Her body was changing too much, everyone would notice soon.

"I, um..." she bit her lip, her hands falling from her jeans. "No, I didn't get a boob job."

Casey frowned, picking up on Faye's seriousness. "What's going on? You've been acting so weird recently."

Faye exhaled slowly, her eyes stinging with tears she'd been holding back for weeks. She turned to face Casey, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm pregnant."

Casey's eyes went wide, and Sarah, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, froze, her mouth falling open.

"You're... pregnant?"

"Yeah. Four months."

Sarah walked closer, the initial shock wearing off. "Faye, why didn't you tell us? You've been dealing with this all by yourself?"

"I'm just really tired of people seeing my differently. I wanted some normalcy."

"We're not going to look at you differently. You're our friend."

Sarah nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Faye. You're not going through this alone."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I didn't know what to say. Everything's been... changing so fast."

Sarah smiled, giving her a hug. "We're here, okay? Whatever you need."

Casey grinned, her usual humour shining through. "Besides, you look pretty damn good for a mom-to-be. I mean, your tits look fucking amazing."

Faye laughed through the tears. "Thanks, I guess. But they hurt like hell all the time."

"Now, come on. Let's go out! Even if you're not drinking, you deserve a night out."

Faye nodded, digging through her drawers to find a pair of pants that fit and went with her outfit. At least she wasn't hiding from her friends anymore.

~~

The ticking of the clock and the rerun episode of something on HGTV filled the waiting room as Faye sat in an uncomfortable, plastic chair. Her 16-week appointment. She had been dreading this one for some reason, even though she knew it was supposed to be one of the more exciting ones.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited to hear the baby's heartbeat--she was. But there was something about all the changes she was facing that made her uneasy. She had been feeling more emotional lately, the hormones sending her on a rollercoaster ride. And her body? That was a whole other issue.

None of her pants, except for stretch-band waisted ones, fit. Her skin was breaking out like she was in high school again, and the weight gain was starting to show in more than just her belly. It was making her self-conscious in a way she'd never been before. She knew it was all part of journey, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Faye Brooks?"

The nurse's voice pulled her out of her head, and Faye stood up, wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings as she followed the woman into the exam room.

"Let's get you weighed," the nurse said cheerfully, like it was no big deal.

Faye stepped on the scale, trying to avoid looking at the number that popped up, but the nurse read it out anyway. "Looks like you've gained about eight pounds since your last appointment. That's good--right on track."

Eight pounds. Her stomach churned. She knew that gaining weight was inevitable, but hearing the actual number sucked ass. She stepped down, forcing a smile. "Right."

The nurse led her to a small room, where she lay back on the table, her shirt pulled up over her belly. The bump was more prominent, although she could probably still get away with saying she was extremely bloated. The nurse prepared the ultrasound equipment and Faye tried to calm her nerves. This was supposed to be a happy moment. She was going to hear her baby's heartbeat for the first time.

The gel toucher her skin, and she shivered. She closed her eyes, waiting for the sound, the moment that would make things even more real... if that was possible.

And then it happened.

The steady, rhythmic thump, thump, thump filled the room, and she swore her heart stopped. The baby. Her baby. It was real. She blinked back tears, unable to stop the happiness that surged through her.

"That's your baby's heartbeat. Nice and strong."

Faye smiled through the tears. For the first time in weeks, the stress of school faded away. The pimples, the weight gain, the cravings--they didn't matter. All that mattered was that her baby was healthy.

"Would you like some ultrasound photos to take home?" the nurse asked.

Faye nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

She couldn't wait to send the little black-and-white photos to Quinn. He wasn't there, and that still made her heart ache, but at least he could see the baby in the photos. She grabbed her phone as soon as the nurse handed the pictures to her.

Faye: just heard the heartbeat for the first time. sending you the photos :)

~~

Quinn was in the middle of a film session with the team when his phone buzzed. He normally ignored texts during meetings, but when he saw it was Faye, he felt that he had to answer. He quickly checked the message, his breath catching when he saw the words: just heard the heartbeat for the first time

Attached were three ultrasound photos. His baby. He stared at them for a couple minutes, barely listening to the meeting anymore. He hadn't been there with her, but seeing the phots made everything feel a bit better.

Quinn: Wow. That's amazing, Faye! Wish I could've been there

God, he wished he could be there.

~~

Faye left the clinic with the photos tucked in her backpack. She felt so much joy hearing her baby's heartbeat, relief that everything was going well, but also frustration with everything happening to her body.

Her cravings had gotten stranger--pickles with vanilla ice cream, enough strawberries to feed a small town, peanut butter on everything--and her emotions were all over the place. Some days, she felt like crying over nothing. Other days, she was just restless. Her sex drive had skyrocketed, which was great since she wasn't seeing anyone and Quinn was in fucking Vancouver.

It sucked. She wasn't about to start dating while pregnant, but the hormones had her feeling much more needy than she was comfortable with. She tried to push those kind of thoughts aside, but when she was laying in bed at night, she couldn't help but wish Quinn was there with her.

That night, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at herself. She tugged at her shirt, trying to flatten it over her belly, sucking in as much as she could. But even when she sucked in, she wasn't as thin as she was pre-pregnancy. Her skin was breaking out, a cluster of pimples along her hairline and on her chin. Her hips were wider, her thighs thicker, and her favourite clothes didn't fit the way they used to.

She felt... ugly.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a reply from Quinn. He'd asked for a 'bump-date.'

Quinn: You look beautiful. I know this is hard, but you're amazing. Can't wait to meet our baby

Quinn always knew how to say the right thing, but it didn't make the insecurities go away. She was grateful for his support, but it wasn't enough to make her feel better about the changes happening to her body. She was supposed to feel strong and capable, but she felt was out of control.

She sighed, placing a hand on her bump. "We've got a long way to go," she whispered to the baby. "But I'm doing this for you."

~~

Faye sat at the back of the lecture hall, her arms folded over her stomach. It was the same spot she always sat in, tucked away in the corner where fewer people could see her. But even when she tried to disappear, she couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was staring at her.

With her belly starting to show more and more, and her face breaking out into what felt like a million pimples, she felt like a different person. She no longer looked like herself. Every time she caught her reflection in a window or glanced down at her swollen feet, she wondered where the old Faye had gone. The Faye that felt comfortable wearing the shortest mini skirt and tank top to a party.

She tugged at the hem of her Wolverines hoodie, trying to cover her stomach more. People were definitely noticing. She could feel their eyes on her when she walked through campus, feel their whispers following her as she sat down in class or waited in line at the coffee shop.

It wasn't just that she was pregnant. It was that she was pregnant, in college, and very much not in a relationship. Every time she passed a group of students, she imagined what they were thinking. Is she a single mom? Did the dad ditch her? What's her story? She hated it.

By the time class ended, Faye felt like she was suffocating. She gathered her things quickly, keeping her head down as she hurried out of the lecture hall. She was halfway home when her phone buzzed.

Sarah: girls night at my place tonight! you in?

Normally, she loved hanging out with her girlfriends, but lately, she'd been so tired, so emotional, that the idea of socializing just felt exhausting. But she also didn't want to push her friends away. They were one of the few things keeping her grounded.

Faye: yeah, i'll come by

At least she had friends. They didn't look at her with pity or judgement--at least, not in the way that she imagined other people did. They just supported her. And that's all she needed.

~~

Sarah's apartment was warm and inviting, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling the air as Faye stepped inside. She shrugged off her coat, glancing at her friends already lounging on the couch with wine glasses in hand.

"Hey, girl!" Casey waved her over. "We saved you a seat!"

Faye smiled, making her way to the couch. She was grateful for the normalcy her friends provided. She sat down, tucking her legs under herself, and reached for the glass of water Sarah had already set out for her. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her.

"So," Sarah smiled. "Tell us what's new. How're you feeling?"

She wasn't sure how honest she wanted to be? How was she feeling? She felt like shit. Her body wasn't her own anymore between all her side effects, but she didn't want to bring the mood down.

"I'm... okay. Tired. Hungry all the time. You know, the usual."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "Girl, you've been looking tired. No offence, but your skin's been freaking out lately. Did you change your skincare routine or something?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to push her self-conscious thoughts aside. "Yeah, it's the hormones. I can't seem to keep up."

"That sucks, but you still look amazing."

She was trying to stay positive, but the truth was, she'd never felt more disconnected from herself. This wasn't her. The Faye she knew wasn't tired, overly emotional, or super uncomfortable in her own body. And the worst part? She had no idea when--or if--she's ever feel like herself again.

~~

Quinn stared at the ultrasound photos on his phone again, a grin tugging at his lips. He had saved the images Faye had sent him and found himself looking at them whenever he had a quiet moment.

The baby. His baby. It still felt surreal at times, but whenever he looked at the black-and-white photos, a wave of excitement washed over him. This was real. The tiny little being in those pictures was growing inside Faye, and even thousands of miles away, he felt connected to it.

He scrolled through the photos one more time before pulling up the family group chat. He hesitated for a second, then decided it was time. His family had been asking about the baby since he told them, and now he actually had something to share.

Quinn: Hey guys, just got some ultrasound pics from Faye. Meet baby Hughes :)

He attached the photos and leaned back on the couch, waiting for the answers to come through. And it didn't take long.

Jack: Holy shit! That's so cool!

Mom: Oh, Quinn, that's amazing! Look at that little face! I can't wait to meet them

Dad: Proud of you, Quinn. Keep us updated

Warmth spread through Quinn's chest as he read their responses. Even though he wasn't physically with Faye, sharing those moments with his parents made him feel like he was more of a part of the journey. It made him feel less alone.

He sent Faye a quick text.

Quinn: Shared the ultrasounds pics with the fam. They're all super excited. How're you feeling?

He knew she was struggling, but every time he asked, she shrugged him off. He was trying his best. He was falling more in love with the idea of being a dad every day. He still had to figure out how to be there for Faye though.

Faye: i'm... okay. just feeling kind of off ngl. don't really feel like myself anymore

Quinn: I get it. But you're doing amazing, Faye. You're strong, even if you don't feel like it. Wish I could be there

She appreciated the support, but right now, no amount of reassurance was going to make her feel like herself again.

~~

It was late, and Faye was curled up on the couch, flipping absentmindedly though a textbook she wasn't really planning on reading. She felt like she hadn't had a moment to relax recently. She sighed, shifting uncomfortably. He back had been aching all day, and felt an unfamiliar tightness in her lower belly.

She placed a hand on her stomach, furrowing her brow. The sensation wasn't painful exactly, but it felt... strange. A dull pressure that came in waves. She tried to brush it off, assuming it was just another pregnancy symptom she wasn't familiar with. But the tightness came again, stronger this time, making her sit up straight.

Something didn't feel right.

The pressure intensified again, her belly growing hard under her hand. Panic surged through her. This wasn't normal. It couldn't be normal. Was she going into labour? The baby wasn't due for months--she was only 20 weeks along.

Another wave of tightness hit her, and this time it was even more painful. She grabbed her phone, hands trembling as she dialed Quinn's number.

Quinn was getting ready for bed when his phone rang. When he glanced down and saw Faye's name, his heart skipped a beat. It was late where she was, and they hadn't planned on talking that night.

"Faye? What's going on?"

"I- I don't know," her voice was shaky and strained. "Something's wrong. I keep feeling this pressure in my stomach... I don't know what's happening, Quinn. What if the baby's coming too early?"

"What? Are you sure? How bad is it?"

"I don't know!" she cried, her panic rising. "I've never been pregnant before. What if something's wrong?"

Quinn's mind immediately went into overdrive. He wanted to be calm for her, but the fear that something was wrong with the baby made his pulse pound in his head. He needed to be there. He needed to help.

"Okay, okay, listen. You need to get to the hosptial. I'll book the next flight out."

"But Quinn, it's so far away--"

"I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. Go to the hospital and let them check you out. Everything's going to be okay." He hoped his words sounded more confident than he felt.

"Okay. I'll call you when I get there."

"Text me as soon as you're on your way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up and immediately pulled up flight options on his phone. He mind was racing, fear settling deep in his gut. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if Faye was going into premature labour?

He fired off a text to his coach, explaining the situation. Within minutes he had a response telling him to go to Michigan. That they'd be fine if he missed two days of practice for his baby.

~~

The hospital smelled sterile, and Faye felt her nerves buzzing as she sat on the exam table. Her hands were clenched in her lap and every slight tightening of her belly made her wince.

She had texted Quinn when she had arrived and he was already on his way to the airport. Finally, the door opened, and the doctor entered the room, offering her a calm smile.

"Faye, hi. I hear you've been experiencing some discomfort," the doctor said as she sat down beside her, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Yeah. I've been having these weird contractions or something. I don't know. I'm only 20 weeks..."

"Let's take a look."

As the doctor examined her, her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her nerves eating her alive. But after a few moments, the doctor straightened up, her smile reassuring.

"It looks like you're experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. They're often called 'practice contractions.' They're not harmful, and it doesn't mean you're going into labour."

"So... I'm okay? The baby's okay?"

"Yes! Everything looks normal. It's common to experience these at some point in your pregnancy. It can be uncomfortable, but it's nothing to worry about."

Faye let out a shaky laugh. "Oh my god... I thought I was going into labour."

The doctor chuckled. "No, not at all. Just keep an eye on things, but everything's perfectly fine."

As soon as the doctor left, Faye texted Quinn.

Faye: false alarm. it's just braxton hicks. baby's okay. everything's okay

~~

Quinn's flight landed early the next morning, and as soon as he stepped off, he checked to see if Faye had texted. Relief flooded his chest, but even knowing things were okay, he still needed to see her. When she opened the door, she looked exhausted. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Quinn didn't care. He pulled her into a hug, feeling the tension leave his body the second he held her.

"I was so scared," he admitted.

"Me too," Faye whispered, clinging to him. "I thought something was really wrong."

Quinn pulled back slightly, looking down at her. "I'm glad everything's okay. I'm staying for a couple days, just to make sure you're good."

Faye hesitated, then nodded, too tired to argue. "Okay. That... that would be nice."

~~

Quinn sat on Faye's couch, a cup of coffee in his hand, while Faye lay stretched out beside him, her head resting on a pillow. She still looked exhausted, her body worn out from stress and the Braxton Hicks scare.

"How are you feeling now?"

Faye shrugged, resting a hand on her belly. "Better, I guess. I still feel... off. But the doctor said it was normal. It just freaked me out."

Quinn nodded, then hesitated before reaching out. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach. It was the first time he'd touched her bump, and the feeling of life growing beneath his hand hit him like a ton of bricks. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening with emotion.

"That's... our baby."

Faye smiled weakly, "Yeah, our baby."

Quinn's phone buzzed with a text from his mom.

Mom: Heard what happened. We're so relieved everything's okay. If Faye needs anything, let her know I'm here, okay? She's family now.

Quinn smiled, showing the message to Faye. "Mom wants to help you out. She's pretty excited to be a grandma."

"I appreciate that. Your mom's always been so nice."

"She means it," Quinn said. "And so do I. You're not doing this alone."

"I know."

~~

It had been two days since the scare, and while Faye had physically recovered, the emotional exhaustion hadn't lifted. Having Quinn around helped, though. It was strange at first, seeing him so much more than usual, but also comfortable. He wasn't hovering, like a helicopter parent, but he was there, offering a helping hand

She wasn't sleeping well, though. Not anymore.

At 20 weeks, she'd finally hit the point where it was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep. It didn't help that her back constantly ached and her hips throbbed with every moment. Lying flat on her back made the pain worse, but when she shifted onto her side, it was like her belly was pulling her down, straining her already sore muscles.

Late at night, Faye lay awake in bed, shifting restlessly. Her body screamed for relief, but no matter how she positioned herself, the ache in her body wouldn't go away. She tried hugging a pillow like she'd seen online, but it didn't help. She was surprised she hadn't woken up Quinn with her constant tossing and turning, the rustling of her bedding.

Quinn had insisted on sleeping on the couch to give her space, but when the pain became unbearable, Faye found herself padding softly to the couch. She stood there a moment, watching him sleep, unsure whether she should wake him. But the dull ache made her decision for her.

"Quinn?" she whispered, nudging his shoulder. "I... I can't sleep."

Quinn blinked awake, his face full of concern as he sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I can't get comfortable," she admitted, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "My back is killing me."

"How can I help?" his voice was deep with sleep.

"Come lay in bed with me?"

"Okay," he pushed himself up, following her over to the bed. Faye lay down beside him, curling onto her side, and after a second Quinn's arm came over her stomach. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh of relief as his hand helped her prop her stomach in a more comfortable position. His touch grounded her in a way that felt... right. She shifted slightly, nestling deeper into the curve of his body, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could sleep.

"That better?" he murmured.

Faye nodded slightly. "Yeah. Thank you."

As she drifted to sleep, she realized how much she needed this--needed him. She wasn't used to relying on people, but with Quinn, it didn't make her feel weak. It just felt... safe.

~~

In the morning, Quinn was already awake when she opened her eyes. His arm was casually draped over her, and Faye's cheeks flushed as she remembered how she practically crawled onto him in the middle of the night.

"Morning. How're you feeling?"

"Better," she replied. Her back still ached, but he pain wasn't as intense as it had been when she was trying to sleep. "I think you might've saved me last night."

"Glad to be of service."

She sat up slowly, stretching her sore muscles as she glanced to the textbooks scattered around the place. Finals were creeping up on her, and while she'd tried to keep up with classes, the pregnancy was making it hard. Her professors and the school were understanding, but she still felt the pressure to stay on top of things.

"Do you need help studying? I've got time," he suggested, following her gaze.

"You? Studying?"

"Hey," he shot back playfully. "I wasn't a complete slacker in school, you know."

"I wouldn't mind the company."

They spent the next few hours at her small dining table, Quinn helping her go over some notes for upcoming exams. It felt strangely normal, having Quinn sitting beside her, scribbling down notes on things she missed, cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Faye let herself imagine what it would be like if things were different. If Quinn lived closer, if they were a couple, if they were navigating this together in a real, committed way. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. It was too much to think about.

"Do you ever think about the future?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah. I think about it a lot."

"And?"

"And..." Quinn's gaze dropped to her stomach before meeting her eyes again. "I think about how I want to be there. For you. For the baby. I know it's complicated, but... I'm in this with you, Faye."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

~~

That night, Faye lay in bed, Quinn next to her already this time. She needed rest, but her body was only sort of cooperating. Quinn groaned slightly, having trouble falling asleep with all her tossing and turning.

"You okay?"

"No. I can't fall asleep."

He pulled her closer to his chest, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Better?"

"A bit."

She turned over, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes.

"Better?"

"Thanks," she whispered, her breath warmth against his skin.

Faye could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning from the physical relief but also the chemistry she was sure was between them.

And then, in the heat of the moment, their lips met. Faye's heart raced as his tongue swiped across her bottom lip, her body responding to the need she'd been ignoring for weeks. She pulled back, her breathing uneven.

"It's the hormones."

But Quinn just smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I know. But if you need me... I'm here."

She blushed but still laughed at his flirting. Then tension between them was electric, and she leaned up for another kiss. Quinn rested his hand on her belly, pulling away when he felt something.

"It moved."

"What?" she whispered, not liking that he'd ended their make out session.

"The baby, I felt it. It was like a little flutter. Did you feel it?"

"I wasn't really paying atten--"

Then she felt it, the strangest feeling yet. Just like Quinn had said, like a little flutter.

"Oh my god. It's moving!" she laughed, cupping Quinn's face. "Our baby is moving!"

Quinn leaned in, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. Resting his forehead on hers as they pulled away.

"That's... that's so fucking cool, Faye! That's our baby!"

"I know, Quinn," she giggled, but as excited as she was, exhaustion was starting to take over.

"Do you want me to move my hand?" Quinn asked.

"No. It's fine there," she mumbled, falling asleep while Quinn sat there and waited for the baby to move again. He was even more in love with the baby and it wasn't even there yet.

~~

It was Quinn's last day in Michigan, and Faye didn't like the heaviness that settled in her chest at the idea. She knew he had to go back to Vancouver. It was his job after all, but after everything that had happened, having him around felt comforting. He made everything seem a little less overwhelming.

To make the most of their last day, they decided to keep things light, indulging in Faye's latest pregnancy cravings. Currently, they were at her small dining table, staring at an odd combination of food.

"Are you seriously going to eat that?" Quinn asked, eyeing Faye as she spread peanut butter over a pickle.

"Trust me, it's so good," she insisted, though she had to admit it seemed strange. "It's the pregnancy."

"Well, I'm in. I promised I'd try all your cravings today, so let's see what this tastes like."

Faye handed him half the pickle, watching with amusement as he hesitated before taking a bite. His face twisted in confusion, then something more like... surprise.

"Okay... that's not as bad as I thought."

They spent the next hour going through her line up of food combinations--pickles in vanilla ice cream, hot sauce on a piece of white toast, avocado and chocolate, babybel cheese with whipped cream, lots and lots of orange soda. Each bite brought laughter and more jokes from Quinn, and Faye feeling better about her stupidity.

After, they sprawled out on the couch, stuffed from their culinary adventure. Quinn pulled out his phone, opening an app he'd downloaded to track the baby's development. "So, I was reading about what's going on with the baby at 20 weeks," he said, scrolling through the information.

"What does it say?" she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Apparently the baby's about the size of a banana now. That's... actually kinda big."

"A banana?" She placed her hand on her stomach. "Wow."

Quinn grinned, scrolling further down on the app. "It can hear things now too. Like they can hear your voice when you talk or when music is playing."

Faye smiled, imagining the little banana-sized baby growing inside her. She felt more connected with the baby every time she learned a new fact, but also much more anxious about the future.

As if reading her mind, Quinn set down his phone and said, "I ordered you something, by the way. It should be here tomorrow."

"You ordered something for me?"

"Yeah, I've been reading about pregnancy pillows. I figured it might help with the sleeping problems you've been having."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know," he smiled softly. "But I want to help however I can. Even when I'm not here. I hate that you've been struggling with getting to sleep."

Quinn had been supportive than she ever imagined, and while they hadn't had a serious conversation about the future, moments together like that made her feel like things would be okay.

They decided to end the day with a movie, cuddled up on the sofa. Faye was wrapped in a blanket, her head resting on Quinn's chest. It was peaceful, but just as she was getting comfortable, her phone rang.

"It's my mom," she murmured, sitting up.

"You want to answer it?"

Faye nodded, then slid off the couch and headed to the bathroom for some privacy. "Hey, Mom."

"Faye, sweetpea! How're you feeling? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"I'm okay. Just... busy with school and stuff."

"Well, your dad and I were talking, and we think you should move back home once the baby's born," her mom said. "It'll be better for you to have support--proper support."

She knew what her mom was getting at. "Mom, I'm fine. I can manage on my own."

"Faye, be realistic," she snapped. "You're going to be a single mother. It's hard enough raising a baby when you have help, but you'll be alone most of the time. And if you think Quinn's going to be around for the sleepless night and dirty diapers, then you're being delusional."

"That's not fair. Quinn wants to help."

"He might think he does now, but once the baby is here, he's going to be focused on his career, on hockey. You'll be left doing everything on your own. You should come home, where we can help you."

"I'm not moving back home, Mom! I've got everything under control."

"You're not thinking clearly, Faye! You're being stubborn, and it's going to cost you. You need to think about what's best for the baby."

"I am thinking about the baby," Faye fought back her tears.

"Then why won't you listen to us?"

"Because I don't want to move back home! I can handle this on my own! And Quinn's not going to just disappear, okay? He's been helping me, and he's going to be there."

Her mom sighed heavily. "I hope you're right. I don't want you getting your hopes up, Faye."

Faye ended the call abruptly, feeling her entire body tremble as she leaned against the counter, sobbing quietly.

Quinn had heard bits and pieces of the conversation from the couch, but when he saw Faye's face, he immediately stood up and rushed over to her.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"

Faye sobbed into his chest, her words coming out in gasps. "My mom... She thinks I should move back home. She thinks... She thinks you're not going... to be around."

"What? Why would she think that?"

"She... she thinks you're just going to focus on hockey, and I'll be stuck all alone. She doesn't believe you'll actually be here."

Quinn felt a surge of anger rise in his chest, not at Faye's mom, but at anyone who would think he wouldn't be involved. He cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "Faye, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm in this with you. We're going to figure this out together."

Faye sniffed, "What if... What if my mom's right? What if this gets too hard, and you--"

"It won't. Yeah, it's going to be hard, but I'm not going to walk away. I care about you, and I care about our baby. I'm going to be here for you both of you. No matter what. Okay?"

"I'm scared."

"I know. But we'll figure it out. We're a team, Faye."

Maybe, just maybe, they'd figure this out together.

~~

The snow was falling softly outside the Hughes' house, making everything look like a scene out of a Christmas movie. Faye stood by the window, watching the flakes settle on the ground, her hands on her ever growing stomach. It was strange being there surrounded by Quinn's family. Strange but... comforting.

She was 24 weeks along, her belly undeniably visible, and the baby had started kicking more regularly, constantly reminding her it was there. Her back ached 24/7 now and she slept most of the day, but she was still trying to enjoy her holiday break.

"Everything okay?" Quinn's voice came from behind her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah. It's just... nice here. Your family is so kind. I still can't believe they invited me to stay for a few days."

Quinn chuckled, "Of course they did. You're part of the family now, Faye. Besides, my mom's been looking forward to spoiling you and the baby for weeks."

Ellen Hughes had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, treating like she was already part of the family. And was overwhelmed as she felt, the whole thing made her feel less alone.

Later that evening, Faye sat on Hughes' couch, enjoying the warmth of the fire place, when Ellen came in and placed a large, beautifully wrapped, present in front of her.

"These are just a few things we thought might help," Ellen said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I know you've probably already started planning, but every little bit helps, right?"

Faye blinked, holding back her tears as she unwrapped the box. Inside was a collection of things she hadn't even thought about yet. There was a breast pump, a coupld sets of baby clothes, a few board books, and even a set of parenting books. One for her and one for Quinn.

"Oh my god, Ellen," her voice wavered as she ran her fingers over the small onesie. "This is so thoughtful. Thank you."

"It was mostly my mom," Quin grinned. "But I helped."

Ellen waved a hand dismissively. "Quinn picked out a few things. The parenting books were his idea."

The fact that he had been thinking about this--about them, about the baby--made her feel even more connected to him. Quinn was clearly committed to figuring things out.

"Thank you, Quinn. I mean it," she whispered.

Quinn reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're in this together, Faye. You and me."

~~

Faye was exhausted from socializing, so she and Quinn retreated to his childhood bedroom. It felt cozy and nostalgic, with posters of old hockey heroes still hanging on the walls and a few trophies lined his dresser.

"So this is where the great Quinn Hughes spent his teenage years, huh?" she teased.

"Yeah, it's nothing fancy. But it's home."

Faye lay on her back, immediately feeling the stretch of her belly above her. "It's nice. Being here with you. I wasn't sure how'd I feel, but... I like it."

Quinn lay down beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm glad you're here. It feels right."

They spent an hour talking about the baby, about names they hadn't settled on yet, and how crazy it was that in just a few more months, they would be parents. As the conversation quieted down, Quinn placed his hand gently on her stomach, his face lighting up when he felt a kick under it.

"Hey, there's my little buddy," he whispered, voice full of wonder. "You're getting strong in there."

Faye smiled, her heart swelling at the way Quinn talked to the baby. She placed her hands over his, enjoying the warmth. "The baby likes you."

Quinn leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her belly. "I like the baby too."

It was late by the time they finally turned off the lights, but Faye found herself still wide awake. She shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position without her pregnancy pillow. Sighing softly, she turned to face Quinn, who was lying beside her, his eyes closed but not quite asleep. "I can't get comfortable."

"How can I help?"

"Pillows and cuddles?"

"I can do that," he handed her an extra pillow from the floor, allowing her to stick it under her stomach. "Better?"

"A lot," she sighed.

Quinn gripped her jaw, turning her face towards him. He pressed his lips to her, a strong, quiet kiss. They'd shared kisses before, but this one felt more intimate, more real.

"I'm glad I'm here."

"Me too."

~~

It was nearing the end of January, and Michigan was wrapped in a thick blanket of snow. Faye sat cross-legged on the couch under a heavy knit blanket. The baby's kicks were getting stronger, whenever she placed her hand on her stomach she could feel it responding to her touch.

She was 28 weeks, officially in her third trimester. The reality of everything was hitting hard. It wasn't just the growing bump, the constant back pain, or the shortness of breath. Now, the emotional weight of it all was settling in, and the need to start planning for the birth was unavoidable.

Faye glanced down at the notebook in her lap, where she'd started to write out ideas for her birth plan. It felt weird, putting pen to paper and trying to map out how it would all go. Of course, she couldn't fully predict how things would play out, but the idea of having a plan eased her worries,

Her phone beside her buzzed, and she smiled when she noticed it was Quinn texting her. They talked almost every day now, and she felt like a school girl with a crush every time he texted or called.

Quinn: You free for a FaceTime? Been thinking about some stuff we should figure out

Faye: yeah, call me!

Seconds later, her phone rang and Quinn's face filled her screen. His hair was damp, probably from a post-practice shower, and he was smiling brightly.

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Tired. The baby's getting bigger and I swear I feel every, single kick these days."

Quinn laughed. "Strong kid. Probably gonna play hockey."

"We'll see about that," she rolled her eyes, looking back at her notebook.

"So, I was thinking... We should probably start to make some real decisions here. Like about the birth and everything that comes after."

Faye nodded, "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I kinda started writing out my birth plan, but it's a rough, rough draft."

"Yeah? What kinda things are you drafting?"

"Well, I want to have the baby here in Michigan. I've already talked to my doctor about it, and she's amazing. I don't want to risk flying anywhere when I'm that close to my due date."

"Good call. I'll come as soon as I can. Make sure I'm there for baby's due date."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I know you'll have to travel for games, but I want you here as much as possible."

"I will be. I'll talk to the team, make sure I'm there whenever you need."

"Okay, so after the baby's born..." Faye trailed off, trying to put her thoughts into words. "I don't think I should fly to Vancouver right away. I'll need time to recover and moving across the country with a newborn... it just seems like too much."

Quinn nodded, "Makes sense. I don't want you to have to deal with that stress right after giving birth."

"So, I'm thinking I'll stay here in Michigan for the first few months. Maybe two or three? My parents will stop by and help, and you can come visit when you can."

Quinn's face dropped at the mention of her staying in Michigan. "I hate that we won't be in the same place right after the baby's born. But... I get it. It's the best plan for now."

"I know," she mumbled, her heartbreaking. She also hated the idea of being apart from Quinn for those couple months, but she knew it was necessary. "I just want to give the baby a stable place before we have to move all our shit to Vancouver."

"Absolutely. And I'll come to Michigan as much as I can. And then, when you're ready, you'll move to Vancouver. You... you can move in here with me or... we can get you your own place."

It wasn't something they'd discussed in detail yet, but Faye's heart fluttered at the thought of sharing a place with Quinn. The thought of building a life together with their baby, filled her with a lot of hope for the future.

"Okay, sounds like a plan."

"I've been looking into baby gear. Cribs, strollers, cars seats, all the works. We'll need to figure out what we need in Michigan and what we need in Vancouver."

"Yeah, I've been looking into childcare options for when we move to Vancouver. I still want to finish my degree online. It'll be a lot."

"It will be, but we're in this together. You're not doing it alone, Faye."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"Also, I think we should make a list of names. It'll help."

She giggled, "You've really been thinking about this, huh?"

"Yeah. This baby's gonna need the best name ever. No pressure."

"Alright, let's do it. Let's make a list."

~~

Faye groaned, rolling over to look at the clock for the thousandth time that night. 2:47 AM. She was exhausted, but her body refused to cooperate. The baby liked to be active as soon as she was ready to rest. Which made it impossible to get comfortable and sleep.

Not that comfortable really existed anymore. She felt huge, like she had an oversized balloon under her shirt at all times. The baby had officially taken over. Every breath she took was shallow, and her bladder felt like it was the size of a peanut. She had to pee all the time. Every time she'd get settled, she'd have to get right back and waddle back to the bathroom.

With a groan, she pulled herself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom yet again. She'd lost count of how many times she'd made that trip in the last hour alone. The baby pressed on every single one of her organs.

"I swear, if you keep pushing on my bladder, you're grounded for life."

The baby gave a strong kick in response, making her wince and laugh at the same time. It was like they already had the same sense of humour.

After what felt like an eternity of pissing, Faye made it back to bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She drifted in and out of fitful sleep, and then the dreams started.

Faye's dreams had always been weird, but lately, her pregnancy was putting them on a whole new level. Vivid and bizzare, often leaving her very confused when she woke up. This dream, though, took the fucking cake.

In her dream, she was in the hospital, ready to give birth. Everything seemed fine at first--the doctors were calm, Quinn was there, holding her hand. But when the baby finally arrived, Faye's eyes widened in horror.

It had tentacles.

It wasn't a normal, chubby-cheeked newborn. No, this baby was some kind of squid creature, with wriggling, slimy tentacles where it should have had arms and legs. And instead of crying, it made this weird gurgling sound like it was trying to communicate to aliens.

Faye had stared at it in utter shock, unable to process what she was seeing. Meanwhile, Quinn was completely unfazed. He smiled down at the baby-squid hybrid like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Isn't it cute?" Quinn had said, his voice filled with pride. "Look at all those tentacles."

Faye woke up, her heart racing. She blinked in the darkness, trying to shake off the unease from the dream. 3:30 AM. No way she was getting back to sleep after that. She grabbed her phone, texting Quinn.

Faye: u awake?

Quinn: Yeah, what's up?

Faye: had the weirdest fucking dream. call me

"Hey? You okay? What happened?"

Faye bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing as she thought about the dream. "I had a dream that the baby came out... but it had tentacles instead of arms and legs."

Quinn was silent for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah! It was like the baby was a squid or something. And you were completely fine with it. You were holding it like 'Look how cute it is!'"

"Well, I mean, if our baby has tentacles, we'll figure it out, right? It'll be the cutest squid baby, ever."

"I'm blaming pregnancy hormones for that one. These dreams have been getting weirddd."

"I've read about that. Strange dreams are super common in the third trimester. So... get ready for more squid babies."

"Great. Just what I needed. As if peeing every five minutes and feeling like a human punching bag wasn't enough."

"How are you feel otherwise?" Quinn asked. "I know this trimester has been harder."

"Honestly? I didn't think it could get worse, and then... it did. I can't breathe half the time because the baby is squishing my lungs, and I'm always tired but I can't sleep. The baby decides to have a fucking dance party every time I lie down."

"Sorry, Faye. Wish I could help."

"I know. It's not your fault, Quinn. Every week I feel like something new pops up to remind me how massive I am."

"Baby's gonna be here soon. And the sleepless nights will be for a different reason," he offered.

"Great," Faye said sarcastically. "Something to look forward to."

~~

31-weeks. 9 more weeks until their baby would be there. The days were flying by, and with each passing week, she got more and more anxious. Quinn wanted to be at the appointment with her, but he was busy doing hockey stuff. They were doing their best to navigate long-distance pregnancy, something she never thought she'd have to do.

Her OB entered the room with a smile. "How're you feelin' today, Faye?"

"I'm always tired, but good. Baby's active, which is probably a good sign."

"That's great to hear. We're mainly looking for the baby's position, measuring your uterus, and making sure everything is progressing as it should."

Faye nodded, trying to relax as the doctor took her measurements. She watched the doctor gently press along her stomach, feeling for the baby's position. The cold jelly made her shiver slightly, but she was more focused on the doctor's facial expressions.

"Looks like your little one is head down, which is exactly what we want to see. No signs of breech, which is good news."

"That's a relief."

"Things are looking good, Faye! And just to double-check you still want to keep the gender a surprise?"

"Yeah, Quinn and I talked about it, we both want to wait until the birth to find out."

"That takes some serious patience. But it'll be a great surprise when the time comes."

After the checkup, Faye called Quinn. He always wanted to be filled in on what was going on after appointments.

"Hey, Faye! How'd it go?"

"It went well! Baby's head down, which means no breech. Everything is looking good."

"That's awesome. I was worried about that."

"I know you were. But they're in the right position. Doctor said everything is on track, and we're still in good shape for a natural delivery."

"And the gender? They didn't slip up?"

Faye shook her head with a laugh. "Nope, still a mystery. Doctor asked, but I said we're stickin' with our plan."

"As much as I want to know, I think the wait will be worth it."

"Same. But it's getting harder to wait," she admitted, climbing into her car. "I keep imaging what they'll look like. If they'll have your eyes or my nose."

"Well, if they come out with tentacles, we're prepared."

"Let's hope not," she groaned.

"You're doing amazing, Faye. We're almost there."

"Almost there."

~~

The day had finally come and Quinn was back in Michigan, standing in Faye's apartment, helping her settle down for the final countdown. 1 week until her due date. Faye had been anticipating this moment for months, but now that it was there, all she could think about were the things they needed to get done before the baby arrived.

It didn't matter that she'd already gone through every room, tidied the apartment, and organized all the baby gear. The urge to keep preparing, making sure everything was perfect, was strong.

"Hey, how's everything going?" Quinn asked, dropping his bags on the ground.

Faye barely heard him. "We need to get the crib set up today," she blurted out. "And I need to reorganize the dresser-- I don't think I folded all the clothes properly. Oh, and we need to clear space in the freezer for breast milk."

Quinn looked at her with an amused smirk. "You know the baby isn't coming today, right? We've got time."

"Time?" Faye repeated, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "We have less than a week, Quinn. What if the baby comes early and something isn't ready?"

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Okay, okay. Let's do whatever you need. Where do we start?"

Faye was in nesting mode. She had Quinn building the crib, while she sorted through the baby clothes for the tenth time. Everything needed to be perfect.

"Do you think I should organize them by size or typer?" she asked from the floor, surrounded by baby clothes. "Or maybe I should put the newborn ones on top. But then again, I don't know how fast the baby is going to grow."

Quinn glanced over from where he was screwing the last part of the crib on. "I think whatever you decide will be great."

Faye huffed. "You're just saying that. What if I mess this up? What if we're totally unprepared for when the baby gets here?"

"Faye, we're ready. The baby's not going to care if it's socks are in the wrong drawer. You've done so much already."

"I want everything to be perfect, Quinn."

"It will be perfect. You're not doing this on your own."

"I know. Thank you for being here."

"I'd rather be here than anywhere else," he leaned down and kissed her temple. "What's next on the list, boss?"

~~

Faye stood in the middle of the room, staring at the crib. It was freshly made, ready for the baby with nothing that cause any dangers while it slept. It should've given her a sense of peace, but instead she was still freaking out.

"We have the crib," she gnawed at her bottom lip. "But... we also have the bassinet."

Her eyes darted between the two pieces of furniture.

"Why do we need both?" she frantically ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots. "What if the baby hates the bassinet? What if they refuse to sleep in either? What if we've set everything up wrong and the baby doesn't sleep at all?"

Quinn came through the front door, just as she was doing another lap of the apartment.

"What's going on?"

"Do we really need the crib and the bassinet? Why do we have both?"

"The bassinet's for when the baby is super small. Easier to keep them close that way. Then we'll use the crib when they're older. That's what the book said, remember?"

Faye just let out a frustrated sigh. Of course she remembered. But nothing felt logical anymore. Everything could go wrong in a million different ways.

Quinn moved to the kitchen to make some tea while Faye continued to pace.

"What if the baby doesn't latch?" she stopped in her tracks. "What if breastfeeding doesn't work? What if we have to switch to formula and we're unprepared?"

"If breastfeeding doesn't work, we'll figure it out. Formula is fine, Faye. We'll handle it."

"But what if the formula we pick isn't right? What if the baby's allergic to it or something? And I've been reading about colic. What if the baby screams for hours every night and we don't know what to do?"

Quinn walked over, gently taking her hands in his. "Breathe. We'll figure it out if that happens. And if the baby doesn't latch, we'll get help. It's not all on you."

"But what about the bottles? Why do we need a warmer and a sanitizer? Can't we just use the microwave?"

Quinn stifled a laugh, realizing Faye wasn't in the mood for humour. "The bottle warmer is supposed to heat it more evenly than the microwave. And the sanitizer is for making sure things are really clean. Trust me, people do it all the time. We've got it covered."

"It just feels like there's so much to keep track of. I keep thinking I'm missing something important, and then I panic," she sighed, collapsing onto the couch.

"You're not missing anything," Quinn reassured. "You've done everything. The apartment is ready, the hospital bag is packed, the car seat is installed in your car, we've got all the gear we need. We are prepared."

"What if the baby gets cold at night? And the swaddle isn't enough?"

"They'll teach us about that at the hospital, Faye. And we have those sleep sacks, we'll make sure the baby is all nice and cozy."

"I-"

"Faye, no more. We're going to be fine. We don't have to be perfect. No first-time parents are perfect. Now, let's watch something and stop talking. You're giving me a headache."

"Hey!"

Quinn was right. They didn't need to be perfect, they just needed to work together.

~~

It was late in the evening, just two days before her due date, when Faye felt a strange twinge of pain. She had been lying on the couch, flipping through Netflix while Quinn did dishes. At first she thought it was just more Braxton Hicks, she got those a lot, but as the pain spread and deepened, her brain told her it wasn't.

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as another wave of pain gripped her lower back. She knew what was happening now. This wasn't a false alarm.

"Quinn?"

"What's up?"

"I think... I think I'm going into labour. The baby's coming."

Quinn froze for a moment, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?"

"I don't now," she admit, feeling the pain again. "But these feel different. Stronger."

Quinn was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on her lower back. "Okay, let's time them. Figure this out."

The next half hour was a blur of counting and breathing. Faye's contractions came steadily, each one closer than the last. She could feel the baby moving lower with each wave of pain, the pressure in her abdomen nothing like she'd ever experienced before.

"Four minutes. We should go."

~~

Once Faye actually got in a bed, doctors and nurses were hooking her up to things, checking her vitals, checking the baby's heartrate, seeing how dilated she was.

They told her she was about six centimetres. And that she and Quinn had some time to wait. Faye had to take her mind off the pain, wracking her brain for something to do.

"You know, Quinn, I really don't know the basics about you."

"What do you mean?"

"Like your favourite colour, favourite movie, that kind of stuff."

"You want to play 20 questions while you wait to push?" he laughed.

"Yes. I'll go first, what's your favourite colour?"

"Blue. I know it's basic. What's yours?"

"Green. But not just any green. Like forest green. Like deep in the woods of Vermont typa shit."

"You have quite the way with words, Faye."

"I know," she winked.

"If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

"Hmm, anywhere that I'm happy and with people I care about. But preferably close to a body of water. I find that calming."

"Vancouver, here we come," Quinn smiled, allowing her to squeeze his hand as another contraction hit.

"Are you scared to be a dad?"

"Wow, hard hitting question. I mean, a little. But isn't everyone? I think I'm mostly worried about being there for you guys. Are you scared to be a mom?"

"Fucking terrified. But I can't exactly shove it back in the oven for any longer," she joked, allowing him to brush some hair from her sweaty forehead. "Do I look hot?"

"Oh, amazing. Hotter than when I met you at that party."

"Don't even mention that party. That party's got me pushing a watermelon out of my--"

"Shut up," Quinn cackled.

~~

"One more big push and we've got the baby, Mama!" the doctor smiled.

"I hate you, Quinn Hughes. Ahh!" she gripped his hand, giving her one final push. And then cries filled the room.

"It's a boy!"

Faye collapsed, too tired to cry as they placed the baby on her chest. Quinn, however, wasn't too tired to cry. He wiped at his eyes, staring in wonder at the slime-covered baby on Faye's chest.

"We'll get him all cleaned up and then you can hold him, Dad."

He nodded, kissing Faye's forehead. "You did it, Faye. I'm so proud."

"Is he okay?" she mumbled, beyond exhausted.

"He's perfect. He has my nose, I think. You tell me what you think once he's all clean."

"He's really here."

"He's here," Quinn nodded. "Our baby boy."

A couple minutes later, the nurse brought the baby back, now clean and bundled up, only his face peeking out of the blanket. "Here he is, Mama."

Her little face was scrunched up, his eyes closed, and his lips puckered in the most adorable way possible. Faye stared at him in awe, lightly tracing his cheek with her knuckle.

"Quinn," she whispered. "He's perfect."

Quinn leaned over, wrapping his arm around her as they gazed down at their son. "Yeah. He's perfect."

His little nose did look like Quinn's, but she could see traces of herself in him too, in his chin and the curve of his lips.

"He has your mouth," Quinn said softly, noticing the same thing she did.

"And your nose."

Quinn reached out, gently loosening the blanket and brushing the baby's tiny hand with his finger. The baby stirred slightly, his little fingers curling around one of Quinn's. It was just the three of them, wrapped in their own little perfect bubble of love.

"What are we going to name him?" Faye continued to whisper, not taking her eyes off the bundle of joy in her arms.

"I think... he looks like a James. What do you think?"

Faye smiled. "James. I like it. James Hughes."

Quinn grinned, kissing the top of her head. "James Hughes it is."

Everything they had been through--the stress, the worry, the fear--had all led to that moment. It was all worth it. And as Faye held James close, she felt her heart swell in a way it never had before. She'd never held so much love for one thing.

She glanced at Quinn, who was still staring at James. She reached up, wiping away the last of Quinn's tears with her thumb.

"We're a family."

Quinn smiled, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. "Yeah, we're a family."

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsaika @immelissaaa

[itsnesss]

Hi beautiful person

could i please request ollie bearman x gf reader where ollie had a really bad race and starts having a panic attack and walks out mid conversation with someone, either a reporter or mechanic, to find reader and its one of those really comforting moments when he gets to reader he says "i dont know what to do" when he feels like he can't breathe properly so she just hugs him until he feels better

quite angsty but i'm unfortunately a sucker for hurt/comfort fics

thank you, have a lovely week and drink enough water <33

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | oliver bearman × fem!reader

summary | after a disastrous race, ollie is overwhelmed with panic. when you find him, he’s struggling to calm down

warnings | gf!reader, panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress, hurt/comfort, mild angst

word count | 0.9 k

🖇 more ob87 🖇 f1 masterlist

The crowd roared around the track, but everything felt distant to Ollie. The roar of the engines, the voices of the crowd, even the sound of the tires on the asphalt everything faded into a void where he felt trapped, not knowing how to get out.

The race had been a total disaster, and though he had tried to keep his composure, his body wasn’t responding the way he wanted. Nothing had gone the way he planned.

The car hadn’t performed well, the strategy had failed, and when he crossed the finish line, his heart was beating in a terrifying rhythm. His mind was clouded, and all he wanted to do was escape. Not from the team, not from the competition, but from that feeling that surrounded him, that invisible pressure suffocating him.

After getting out of the car, his legs were shaky, and a knot in his stomach wouldn’t go away. The reporters swarmed in, eager to capture every word, every gesture, every ounce of tension that was clearly in the air. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the pounding in his chest. He tried to force a smile, as always, but it wasn’t enough.

One of the reporters approached with a microphone, and her voice cut through the air as she asked him a question about the race. Ollie looked into her eyes, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. His breathing grew erratic, heavier. He felt like something invisible was pressing against him. His hands, once steady, were now trembling.

“Ollie?” the reporter’s voice snapped him out of his trance. “What do you think about the race? And the issues with the car? We were all expecting more from you.”

Each word, each question, only added more pressure. His mind fogged up even more, and without warning, the words he had prepared in his head evaporated. Instead of answering, he took a step back, confused, and muttered, “Sorry... I need a moment.”

Panic gripped him, and without looking back, he quickly walked away, ignoring the curious stares. He just wanted to escape that pressure, that knot in his stomach, that feeling that made him feel so small and vulnerable.

His body moved automatically, without a clear destination. He just knew he needed to find her. He needed to find you. The one person who always calmed him, the one person who, somehow, could help him breathe again.

Time seems to stand still when you hug him. His tremors start to subside a little, but his breathing is still erratic, uneven, as if every breath is a battle in itself. You feel him cling to you with a silent strength, as if he’s trying to anchor himself to something, to someone, so he doesn’t lose himself in his own inner chaos.

You feel him close, much closer than you expected, as if Ollie’s vulnerability becomes tangible in every inch of his skin. The uncertainty surrounds him, but in that moment, you are his only constant. The rest of the world seems to fade away as you hold him, and while you know you can’t fix everything in one go, you cling to the hope that your presence is all he needs right now.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you repeat, gently caressing his back, feeling his shoulders slowly relax. “It’s all okay. Just breathe with me.”

You feel him try to follow your lead, to match your rhythm, but it’s not easy. Panic is still gripping him tight. His chest rises and falls frantically, and you realize he needs you to calm him down. Patience. Time. Above all, calm.

“Sorry...” he whispers, his voice cracked. “I... don’t know what’s happening to me. I can’t... breathe properly.”

When you hear his words, you flinch, but you don’t let him go. You know what he needs: calm. Patience. And, most of all, time.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you say softly. “You’re okay, Ollie. Just keep breathing. Slowly.”

You feel how, little by little, his breathing begins to stabilize, as if your calmness is seeping into him. A long, shaky sigh escapes his lips, and you know he’s starting to calm down. A small comfort in the midst of the chaos he just experienced.

At some point, Ollie lifts his head, his eyes still glassy, but something in his gaze has changed. It’s no longer just fear. Now, there’s a tiny spark of gratitude, as if he’s beginning to understand that he doesn’t have to face it all alone.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice still hoarse. “I swear, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your fingers brush his cheek gently, wiping away the beads of sweat still clinging to his face. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, whenever you need me.”

You look into his eyes directly, without needing any more words. You know there’s no need to say anything else. There are no grand gestures necessary, because in these moments of shared silence, in the simple contact, everything is already said.

You stay there, holding him, without rushing, without hurry. And although the fear never completely disappears, in his embrace, you find a mutual refuge, a truce in the middle of the storm.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Distract You

Summary: FC43 + "Let me distract you."

Song: The Boy Is Mine · Brandy & Monica

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The fluorescent light of your desk lamp hummed, a monotonous soundtrack to the chaos of papers spread before you. The looming university exam felt like a monstrous wave about to crash over you, threatening to drag you under the weight of differential equations and historical dates.

You chewed on the end of your pen, the taste of plastic doing little to soothe the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. Another practice problem stared back at you, mocking your inability to solve it for the tenth time.

You were determined, bordering on stubborn. This exam was everything. Good grades meant a scholarship, the scholarship meant a future, and you were not about to compromise.

Sleep was a luxury, socializing a distant memory, and food something hastily scarfed down between chapters.

A soft knock echoed through your small apartment. You ignored it, willing the person to go away. But the knocking persisted, growing more insistent.

"Just a minute!" you snapped, your voice tight with frustration. You reluctantly pushed back your chair, the screech against the wooden floor grating on your already frayed nerves.

You yanked the door open to find Franco standing there, a goofy grin plastered on his face. He was Argentinian, a whirlwind of warmth and chaotic energy who had somehow become your best friend.

He was sunshine on legs, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside you.

"Hola, estrella!" he greeted you, his accent thick and comforting. "Mind if I intrude on your scholarly pursuits?"

"Franco, I told you, I'm studying," you said, your voice sharper than you intended. "I really can't afford any distractions right now."

His smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. He held up a brown paper bag. "I come bearing gifts! Alfajores and Argentine coffee. Figured you could use a little… fueling up."

You hesitated. The aroma of the sweet cookies and rich coffee was undeniably tempting. Your stomach rumbled in protest against the constant diet of instant noodles and stale crackers.

"Franco…" you started, then sighed. "I really shouldn't. Every minute counts."

"Every minute of staring at these dusty books is making you crazy," he countered, his eyes twinkling. "Come on, let's take a break. Just fifteen minutes. For your sanity, if not for me."

He edged his way past you, placing the bag on your cluttered desk. He surveyed the scene with a concerned frown. "Dios mio, this looks like a battlefield. You haven't slept, have you?"

"Sleep is for the weak," you mumbled, turning back to your desk.

He chuckled. "Says the woman who’s about to faint from exhaustion. Look, I get it. You’re stressed. But burning yourself out isn’t going to help. Let me distract you."

You wanted to argue, to shove him out the door and bury yourself back in your books. But the truth was, you were teetering on the edge of a breakdown. The pressure was suffocating, and Franco, with his easy laughter and genuine concern, was a welcome lifeline.

"Fifteen minutes," you conceded, pointing a finger at him. "And then you leave. No arguments."

"Deal!" He clapped his hands together, his enthusiasm infectious. He poured you a cup of coffee, the dark liquid steaming in the dim light. He unwrapped an alfajor, the sweet dulce de leche oozing from between the two delicate cookies.

You took a tentative sip of the coffee, the rich flavor instantly melting away some of the tension in your shoulders. You bit into the alfajor, the sweetness a comforting balm to your frayed nerves.

"Okay," you said, your voice slightly softer. "You have my attention. Distract me."

Franco grinned, settling onto the edge of your bed. "So, tell me about this exam. What's got you so freaked out?"

You hesitated, then found yourself pouring out your anxieties, explaining the importance of the scholarship, the pressure to succeed, the fear of failing.

Franco listened patiently, nodding occasionally, his eyes filled with understanding.

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself," he said gently when you finally ran out of steam. "You're smart, you're dedicated. You'll do fine."

"Easy for you to say," you muttered. "You're an f1 driver. You don't have to worry about things like scholarships and GPAs."

"That's true," he conceded. "But I have my own stresses, you know? Driving fast, not crashing… it's not always a picnic." He paused, then a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.

"But that’s not the point! The point is, you need to relax. Come on, tell me something fun. What’s been making you laugh lately?"

You thought for a moment. It was hard to remember the last time you had truly laughed, but you forced yourself to think. "Okay, well, Mrs. Peterson in accounting tripped over a box in the hallway the other day and landed in a pile of paperwork. It was… kind of funny."

Franco chuckled. "See? There's still joy in the world! Now, tell me something else. Something…spicier."

You blushed, suddenly aware of how close he was sitting. You'd known Franco for years, but lately, something had shifted. The comfortable friendship was tinged with a new awareness, a fluttering in your stomach whenever he was near.

You had feelings for him, ridiculous, inconvenient feelings that you had been desperately trying to ignore.

"Um… I don't know," you stammered, suddenly flustered.

He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. There must be something. A cute guy in your history class? A scandalous rumor about the dean?"

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. "There's… someone," you admitted softly. "But it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "He's… a friend. A really good friend. And I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Ah," Franco said softly. "I see."

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the ticking of the clock. You knew you had to say something, to break the tension.

"Okay, time's up," you said, standing abruptly. "Fifteen minutes is over. Back to the books."

Franco stood as well, his expression unreadable. He picked up the empty coffee cup and the paper bag. "Alright. But promise me you'll take a real break tonight. Watch a movie, listen to music, something. Don't let this exam consume you."

"I promise," you lied, knowing full well you would probably be studying until dawn.

He walked towards the door, then paused, turning back to you. "Estrella," he said, his voice low. "Don't be afraid to take a chance. Sometimes, the best things in life are worth risking a little discomfort for."

He left, leaving you standing in your messy apartment, your head spinning. His words echoed in your mind, a confusing mix of encouragement and… something else.

You tried to focus on your studies, but Franco's face kept flashing in your mind. You replayed the conversation, analyzing every word, every gesture.

Was he hinting at something? Was he aware of your feelings? Or were you just reading too much into everything?

Hours passed, filled with more equations and historical dates, but your concentration was shot. You couldn't shake the feeling that you were missing something, that you were so focused on the future that you were ignoring the present.

The present, which included a certain Argentinian with a captivating smile and a heart of gold.

Finally, exhaustion won. You pushed back from your desk, your eyes burning, your head throbbing. You knew you couldn't study anymore, not tonight.

You grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts, your finger hovering over Franco's name.

What would you say? What could you say?

You took a deep breath and typed a simple message: "Movie tonight?"

The reply came almost instantly: "Pick you up in ten?"

A smile spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, Franco was right. Maybe it was time to take a chance. Maybe, just maybe, something beautiful could bloom from the chaos of your life.

Maybe a little distraction was exactly what you needed, not just from your studies, but from the fear that had been holding you back for so long.

And as you waited for him, you realized that the biggest exam you were facing wasn't the one in your textbooks, but the one in your heart.

What had possessed you to ask him to the movies? You were a sleep-deprived, stressed-out student, and he… he was Franco. Argentinian, effortlessly cool, and possessed of a smile that could melt glaciers. What could he possibly see in you?

You splashed some water on your face, trying to look at least marginally more alive.

Ten minutes later, a gentle knock echoed through the apartment. You smoothed down your hair, took another deep breath, and opened the door.

Franco stood there, his smile even brighter than before. He was wearing a worn leather jacket and a simple white t-shirt that somehow looked impossibly stylish on him.

He had a small bouquet of vibrant sunflowers in his hand. “Ready for some movie magic, Estrella?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Ready.”

He led you downstairs and into his new charming, vintage car. The interior smelled faintly of leather and something indefinably him. As he drove, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him.

The streetlights cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw and the sparkle in his eyes.

“So,” you said, trying to sound casual, “what are we seeing?”

“Ah, that’s a surprise,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But I promise you, it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

He pulled up to a small, independent cinema that you had never noticed before. The marquee was advertising a classic Argentinian film, "El Secreto de Sus Ojos."

“Franco,” you said, surprised, “this is… perfect.”

He grinned. “I thought you might like it. It's a bit of home, for me. And maybe a chance for you to see a little bit of my world.”

Inside, the cinema was cozy and dimly lit, smelling faintly of popcorn and old velvet. You settled into the worn seats, the anticipation buzzing between you. As the opening credits rolled, Franco leaned close and whispered, "Get ready. This is a masterpiece."

And it was. The movie was captivating, a complex and emotional story of love, loss, and justice set against the backdrop of Argentina's turbulent past.

You found yourself completely absorbed, forgetting about your exams and your anxieties. The subtitles flew by, but you barely noticed, caught in the raw emotion and the stunning visuals.

You glanced at Franco. He was completely engrossed, his face illuminated by the flickering light of the screen. A small smile played on his lips as he watched, a nostalgic warmth radiating from him.

You felt a connection to him, a sense of understanding that went beyond friendship. But the week of sleepless nights and caffeine pills caught up with you, and your eyelids started to droop.

The rhythmic dialogue, the soft darkness of the cinema, it was all too much. You found yourself drifting off, your head instinctively tilting towards Franco's shoulder.

The last thing you remembered was the comforting solidity of his presence beside you before you succumbed to sleep.

You woke up slowly, disoriented. The movie was still playing, but the credits were rolling. The theater was mostly empty, the only other occupants a couple huddled in the back row.

You blinked, trying to shake off the grogginess. Franco's hand was on your shoulder, rubbing it slowly and gently. His coat was draped over you.

He was whispering something in Spanish, his voice low and laced with concern.

"... Mi vida, tienes que cuidarte. Te amo demasiado para que te tires por la borda."

"What?" you muttered, your voice thick with sleep.

Franco froze. His hand stilled on your shoulder. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic crossing his face. He seemed to realize that you were awake and had heard him.

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the final strains of the movie's score.

"What did you say?" you asked again, your heart pounding in your chest.

He cleared his throat, his gaze darting away from yours. "I… I was just saying you should take care of yourself. You look tired. The exams… they are hard. You have to rest."

His explanation sounded rushed, unconvincing. You knew he was hiding something. The words he had spoken in Spanish, the tenderness in his voice, the look on his face – it all pointed to something more than just concern.

"No," you said, shaking your head. "Before that. You said something else. In Spanish."

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "It was nothing. Just… worry."

"Franco," you said, your voice soft but firm. "Tell me."

He looked at you, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and something else you couldn't quite decipher. He hesitated, then seemed to make a decision.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I said… 'My life, you better take care of yourself, I love you too much for you to throw yourself away.'"

The words hung in the air, electric and undeniable. Your breath caught in your throat. You stared at him, your mind reeling.

"You… you love me?" you managed to stammer.

He looked down, his cheeks flushed, the color contrasting starkly with his olive skin. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "Yes," he said, his voice low, almost ashamed. "It's stupid, I know. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Stupid? Why stupid?" you asked, bewildered. A thousand questions swirled in your head, but that one felt the most pressing.

He finally looked up at you again, his eyes filled with a raw honesty that made your stomach flip. "Because… because nothing can come of it, right? You're you. You're… magnificent. And I'm just… me."

You frowned. "Franco, that's ridiculous. You're amazing."

"Yeah, amazing at fixing your broken laptop and translating confusing Spanish homework," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Not exactly boyfriend material."

"That's not true!" you protested, the words bursting out of you before you could even think. "You're kind, you're funny, you're incredibly smart… and you're always there for me. That’s more than I can say for most people."

He looked at you, searching your face for any sign of insincerity. "But... we're friends. Best friends. I didn't want to ruin that."

"And you thought blurting out a declaration of undying love in a near-empty movie theater was the best way to preserve our friendship?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to inject some levity into the situation.

He winced. "Okay, maybe the timing wasn't ideal." He paused, then added, "And maybe... maybe I hoped you felt something too. It just kind of… slipped out."

You looked away, your own emotions a tangled knot in your chest. You had always valued Franco’s friendship, relied on it even.

He was your rock in a sea of uncertainty, the one person who always understood you, who always knew how to make you laugh, even when you felt like crying.

But romance? Had you ever considered him in that way?

A memory surfaced, unbidden: a late-night study session in his tiny apartment, the air thick with the smell of coffee and burnt toast. You were huddled together on his worn couch, poring over textbooks, his arm brushing against yours.

You had felt a spark then, a fleeting awareness of him as something more than just a friend. But you had dismissed it, chalking it up to stress and sleep deprivation.

"I... I don't know what to say," you finally admitted, the honesty feeling like a weight lifted from your shoulders. "I'm just… surprised. I never thought…"

"I know," he said softly, interrupting you. "And that's okay. You don't have to say anything. Just… forget I said anything, if that's what you want. We can just go back to being friends."

The thought of going back to how things were, pretending this hadn't happened, felt unbearable. You didn't want to lose his friendship, but the idea of ignoring this newfound truth, of burying your own feelings, felt even worse.

"That's the thing, Franco," you said, turning back to him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think I can just forget it."

He looked at you, hope flickering in his eyes. "So… you're saying… maybe…" He trailed off, afraid to voice his expectations.

You took a deep breath. "I'm saying that you're not just my friend, Franco. You're… you're important to me. And maybe, just maybe, there could be something more."

You hesitated, then admitted the truth that had been slowly dawning on you. "I think… I think I might love you, too."

His eyes widened, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Really? You mean it?"

You nodded, a nervous smile mirroring his. "Really."

He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "I've been in love with you for years," he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "Ever since you helped me move into my first apartment and accidentally dropped that box of mate all over the floor."

You laughed, remembering the incident vividly. "I was so embarrassed! You just laughed and made me a cup."

"How could I not? You looked so horrified," he said, squeezing your hand. "That's when I knew. You're clumsy, and a little bit chaotic, but you have the biggest heart of anyone I know."

"And you're stubborn, and you always think you're right, but you're the most loyal and supportive person in the world," you countered, playfully nudging his shoulder.

A comfortable silence fell between you, filled only with the unspoken emotions that had finally found their way to the surface. The theater emptied around you, the cleaning crew beginning to sweep the aisles, but you didn't notice.

You were lost in each other's gaze, the world outside fading away.

"So… what now?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Franco grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now? Now, I think we need a proper Argentinian date. Empanadas, dulce de leche, maybe even some tango lessons."

"Tango lessons? That's a little ambitious, don't you think?" you teased.

"Only if you don't trust my lead," he retorted, winking. "Besides, I'm sure I can convince my abuela to give us a few private lessons. She's a tango queen."

"Okay, okay, you've convinced me," you said, laughing. "But if I step on your toes, don't say I didn't warn you."

He stood up, pulling you up with him. "Come on," he said, his hand still holding yours. "Let's get out of here. I know a place that makes the best empanadas in the city."

As you walked out of the theater, hand in hand, the city lights seemed to shine a little brighter, the air felt a little warmer.

The world, which had always felt familiar and comfortable with Franco by your side, now felt vibrant and full of possibilities. . . .

[green-butterfly-writes]

Yandere Batfam concept: neglected trans reader

Warnings for: child neglect, unintentional transphobia as a result of child neglect, (non bigoted) religious imagery, blasphemous imagery, idolizing Bruce Wayne

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so mistakes are likely to happen.

Standard neglected reader, they are Bruce’s bio kid, don’t get involved in Batman stuff, and end up getting punished to the side.

They realize they are trans while still living with the Waynes, and aren’t sure if they should come out or not. Not that they think the batclan would hurt them, but given the total lack of support or attention they were raised with, they were worried.

After a year or two of suffering through dysphoria and anxiety, they decide to come out to Bruce.

Except Bruce is very difficult to get a hold of. Especially for them. So when they do finally tell him, he’s distracted and not paying attention. The conversation goes roughly like this:

You finally managed to find time he wasn’t Batmaning, spending time with your siblings, or in the office, and even though you’d prefer he look at you and not the paper work he was doing, you’ll take what you can get.

You were in his darkly furnished home office, in a deep blue plush chair sitting at an angle from Bruce, who was behind the large dark wood desk in the center of the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves taller than mount Olympus, each and every one of them filled with neatly organized text books, encyclopedias, and dictionaries.

Bruce sat in front of the only window in the room. It was tall, and a made of neatly organized, fractured glass. It lit Bruce from behind, like one of the stained glass murals from your grandmother‘s church, and made him look like an angel. A heavenly messenger you prayed to every night for protection, and every day for love. But the world is cruel, and so is its creator, so your prayers continued to go unanswered.

“Dad,” you started hesitantly, “I have something I wanted to talk to you about. I thought it best to tell you in person.” Typically, if you had something you wanted to share with Bruce, you would write it in a letter, leave it on his bedside table, and he’d get back to you in a week or two. But you wanted to tell him yourself. You need to see his face when he found out.

Bruce only hummed in response.

“I’m trans. I’m not going by (dead name) any more, I’m going by (chosen name) now. And I’ve changed my pronouns too. It would mean a lot to me if you used them.” You stared down at your lap, fidgeting with your intertwining fingers, waiting for a response.

Silence suffocated you as Bruce continued his even scribbling across his note pad, turning to the next page in the grant proposal he was reading.

“That’s nice (dead name). Why don’t you go see if Alfred needs help in the garden, I’m sure he’d love to hear your stories.”

You felt as if your very soul had shattered into a million pieces. Your heart burred in your chest, and your mouth went dry. It felt like someone had dunked your head a pile of fresh snow and held you there. You couldn’t feel your body, or hear your mind, and at the same time you felt it all too much, and heard it far to loud.

You had prayed to your heavenly messenger, your savior, your prophet. He who had granted you life and meaning. Who had saved you from deaths door, and carried you into his home. And you were just turned away at the altar.

That was the last time you called him dad.

You considered coming out to Alfred, the only member of the family that remembers your existence without you needing to remind him, but he’s old and you wouldn’t be able to stomach another rejection.

The next few years were hell.

Every event felt like a nightmare, trapped in a cage of fabric, every time you put on your school uniform you wanted to scream

Everyone called you the name you were desperate to forget, used the pronouns that made you skin sit wrong on your bones

You stopped looking in mirrors, hating what you saw.

Once you turned eighteen you practically ran out of the house.

You got excepted to a school in another state and took it, never looking back.

You wrote Alfred monthly letters about how you were doing for the first two years, then every other month, then every four. Slowly weening him off of updates about your life. You still send him a card during the holidays and one for his birthday so he knows you’re alive, but the address is for a P.O. box, so he doesn’t know where you live.

It’s now ten years after you left and you’re doing amazing. You’re flourishing in your career, have an amazing group of friends, and maybe most importantly, changed your first and last name. You got the surgeries you wanted, went on hormones, and can look yourself in the mirror now. You love your life

Sometimes when you’re watching tv or walking through the streets, you’ll see advertisements, magazines, or talk shows with imagery of your now forgotten false idol. Sometimes you wonder how he’s doing, how his kids have grown. You wonder if he misses you. Your therapist told you that’s normal for victims of child abuse. You pay the thoughts no mind.

You don’t watch the every move of your golden bat anymore, in fact you don’t watch any. And you don’t realize that he’s watching you, praying for forgiveness, not only for what he has done, but for what he’s about to do.

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[yan-lorkai]

Hi✨ I want to request something. What if all the main cast are yandere, except the first years and Grim? So now they have to protect their magicless friend from all the yandere boys. If it's too much, just ignore it. Thank you💕

The atmosphere in Night Raven College had become suffocating. You couldn’t quite pinpoint when things had changed, but it was undeniable. Everywhere you turned, the once-friendly interactions with your upperclassmen had taken on an unnerving intensity. Smiles lingered too long, casual touches felt possessive, and their gazes…

It was as though they were trying to burn themselves into your very soul.

You weren’t alone in noticing the shift. The first years — Ace, Deuce, Jack, Sebek, and Epel — had caught on quickly. While they were used to your popularity with the older students, the current obsession was unsettling. It wasn’t just admiration or fondness anymore. It was dangerous.

---

Ace and Deuce were the first to intervene.

"Listen," Ace said one evening as the two of you sat in Ramshackle’s lounge, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Something’s seriously wrong with those guys. They’re all over you like... Um, like vultures."

Deuce nodded firmly, his brows furrowed. "We’re not going to let them corner you. If they try anything, we’ll deal with it. Right, Ace?"

"Obviously," Ace replied, crossing his arms. "We’re your first line of defense. No way we’re letting them take you away from us."

Their words reassured you, but the anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind. If even your closest friends felt the need to protect you, how bad had things gotten? And why things turned out to be this way?

You weren’t sad here, by all means, even if sometimes you missed your old world, but this relentless chasing was tiring you out. Sometimes you could feel their eyes in you, as if you were a prize.

You could feel it when you were playing hide and seek with the Adeuce duo. A piercing gaze that made you shiver and tremble, as if death was upon you, as if its invisible fingers would pull you into its arms and nobody would miss you.

"Oi, nothin's gonna happen." Grim howled loud enough that your ears were ringing. But in that moment, that didn't annoyed you, not when he bumped his furry head with yours and nuzzled into your chest.

Deuce served more tea and Ace brought another loaf of bread and cheese to the table. They were silent after this.

"If those weirdoes get too close, I’ll toast ‘em!" he declared, puffing out his chest. "Yer my minion, and I ain’t sharin’ ya with nobody!"

And you too were silent, even if your head was messy with thoughts and feelings.

---

Jack was next to join the effort.

"You shouldn’t walk around campus alone," he said one day, falling into step beside you. His tail swished anxiously as he glanced around, his sharp eyes scanning for potential threats - searching for Leona, Rook or Malleus, as they were the most powerful mages in his opinion.

Or Jamil, Idia and Cater, he thought. Or Riddle, Vil and Azul, he added.

"They’ve been following you. I’ve seen it. If anything happens, just stay close to me."

His protective instincts were a relief, though you hated the idea of relying on your friends to keep you safe. Still, Jack’s presence was grounding, his silent determination giving you a sense of security, as you walked without letting your anxiety show. At least, you hoped so.

"It's a nightmare." You whisper to him. And his ears notably twitch at that. "I wanted that to end. To go back the way it was before."

"I'm sorry." It was all he could think to say. He was sorry because he couldn't help further, couldn't beat some sense into his upperclassmen, couldn't stop all of them.

He was so sorry.

---

Epel, usually shy about voicing his thoughts, surprised you with his boldness.

"Those guys are outta control," he said, frowning as he helped you carry a stack of books to the library. "They’re treating you like… I dunno, a prize or somethin’. It ain’t right. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what."

You couldn’t help but smile at his resolve, though his words only deepened your unease. Things were getting worse. Clothes went missing, door opening and closing at night, the sound of steps and whispers, a laughing.

You couldn't close your eyes the past night, waiting for something, for anything to happen. It didn't. Sometimes, it seems they were tiring you out first, waiting for the perfect moment to sweept in when you wouldn't have strength left to fight and take you.

"I hope you can punch hard enough to break some teeth." Is all you can say before you're falling asleep on his shoulders, the sun kissing you just the right way as you feel Epel wrap his arm around your shoulder to secure you won't stumble.

"Ya betcha I can."

---

Sebek, ever the loud and loyal protector, was the most vocal.

"Those fiends dare to covet you?! It’s an insult to your dignity!" he declared one evening, practically vibrating with righteous fury as he swinged his sworld around. "Fear not, human! I, Sebek Zigvolt, shall ensure no harm befalls you! My loyalty knows no bounds!"

You were grateful for his enthusiasm, but his constant yelling often attracted unwanted attention from the very people you were trying to avoid. You could feel their smiles, their eyes on you, their whispers and laughs. You hate it.

Above all, you regret being their friend.

Regret having sleepovers.

Regret having shared with them stories and songs and memes, and everything else from your world.

Regret trying to fix them, overblot after overblot.

You give Sebek a look before reaching for his hand to run from them and their stare that made you feel like prey.

---

Through it all, your first-year friends remained steadfast, their loyalty unwavering as they fought to keep you safe. It wasn’t easy, and every day felt like a battle. They accompanied you everywhere, taking turns escorting you to classes, meals, and even back to Ramshackle at night.

But as long as they were by your side, you held onto hope that you could survive the suffocating obsession of the upperclassmen — together.