#aside from the throat and the sniffles I feel okay?

[keldae]

.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[sleepyjuice]

flashback to the first time you tried to end things with toxic!rafe…

it was after a particularly nasty argument. rafe was trying to defend the fact that he nearly killed your male cousin at a party earlier that night because he thought it was someone trying to hit on you. in his eyes, he didn’t do anything wrong because he ‘thought he was protecting you.’ your cousin was thankfully okay, but this only isolated you even further from your family.

“rafe, we have been nonstop screaming for nearly two hours. this is not normal. i’m not doing this shit anymore. i’m done, this is over.” your throat was raw, your head hurt and you were beyond emotionally exhausted. 

“so you’re giving up? that’s great, didn’t realize i was fucking a goddamn quitter. do you know how much shit i’ve been through and didn’t give up? yet you wanna end this shit because your precious fucking feelings are hurt. fuck you dude.” he scoffed and god you had never felt smaller. tears flowing freely down your cheeks, you began to gather your stuff that was laying around rafe’s room, shoving it all into a tote bag. rafe watched you silently, arms crossed over his broad chest like a child. you sniffled once you were fully packed, taking a moment to look over at rafe whose eyes were on you, but the moment your eyes met his, he looked away.

“get the fuck out of my house.” was all he said to you, and you listened, slamming his bedroom door behind you on your way out. rafe jumped up when you slammed his door, charging for it and ready to cuss you out for ‘disrespecting his property’ but when he heard your little cries from all the way downstairs, he stopped himself.

you turned your car on, adjusting your headlights as it was pitch black outside now, taking a deep breath before shakily backing out of the driveway.

you didn’t get very far before your car was beeping loudly at you, signaling there was something right behind your car. you slammed on the brakes and put the car in park before unbuckling your seatbelt to go and see what had happened. but before you could get out of the car, your drivers side door was swinging open to reveal none other than rafe, his chest rising and falling rapidly and fresh tears staining his cheeks now too.

“rafe… what are you doing? i almost hit you!” you placed a hand over your chest as you calmed down over the initial shock of a potential accident. rafe not letting you leave though, after telling you to get the fuck out, was just another horrible thing to add to tonight’s list of shitty events.

“i know, i know. i just didn’t like how we ended our conversation upstairs, baby… will you please come back inside?” he spoke softly now, his hand reaching for your chin to softly tilt it up towards him. his touch still felt the exact same.

the worst part is, with him not behind your car anymore, you could have easily backed up and left now, but you didn’t. you took your keys out of the ignition and silently followed behind rafe as he led you back up to his bedroom.

you expected him to scream at you again, to get up in your face and berate you for wanting to leave this relationship. but he didn’t, he apologized. said something about how he had gotten into an argument with his dad before the party and that put him in a bad mood.

you held him as he cried to you, telling you about what his dad said, about how scared he was when he thought you were leaving him for another man at the party, how he can never be without you.

the night ended with rafe spooning against you as you drifted off to sleep, your body naked aside from one of rafe’s shirts, your clothes discarded as rafe had fucked you good after he finished crying, giving you four really good orgasms.

you were seconds away from sleep when you felt rafe kiss your earlobe from behind you, his warm breath tickling your soft skin as he spoke.

“don’t ever try to fuckin’ leave me again.”

“i won’t.”

[saintzweig]

you've had a crush on art donaldson since the day you joined the stanford tennis team during your first year, while he was in his second. and with his charming boy-next-door personality, it was no doubt that everyone else had a crush on him.

you were in the same friend group, all within the tennis team. he was nice and sweet to you, but he was nicer and sweeter to everyone else. everytime you'd hang out, he would always be flirting with atleast one person in the group but never with you. at first you came up with reasons, maybe it was because you joined the group last, maybe it's because he doesn't know you as well as everyone else, maybe it's because you're younger.

if someone says that they're cold, art is pulling them closer or giving them his jacket to warm them up but when you do, he only offers to turn up the thermostat. someone's thirsty? they're free to drink out of his bottle but when you are, he only offers to fill up your bottle for you.

okay, maybe you're overthinking this but as time goes on you're starting to feel like he's deliberately leaving you out, maybe you did something to him? maybe you did something he didn't like.

but you've been nothing but nice to him, always striking up a conversation and asking all about him. perhaps you were too nice that it weirded him out.

so with that conclusion, you decided to avoid him. staying busy and far during trainings unless you two were grouped together, and when you are you barely spoke a word. excusing yourself from hanging out with the group, telling your friends that you're too busy with school works at the moment. only saying yes if you know he isn't coming, and when he catches up you just do your best to sit as far away from him as possible.

you didn't know it yet but it upset him, tashi knew though. she pulled you aside while you were at a diner after practice. "what's going on between you and art?"

"huh?" you tried to play dumb, but really there was nothing to play about consider you don't know anything but your side. "nothing?"

"you've been avoiding him, why?" you only gave her a sheepish look, which then implied that there was something.

"i'm not, and isn't he your boyfriend? he's always with you and whatnot" you really didn't mean to let the bitter tone slip as you replied to her. she only laughed as if the dumbest thing just came out of your mouth, "i'm dating his best friend, he's like that with all his friends"

so maybe you're not his friend, "oh"

before she can say anything else, art came up from behind, placing his arm around tashi's shoulder. "just paid the bill, you're riding with me, tash?"

she locked eyes with you before shaking her head, "nah, i'm catching a ride with the girls. she can ride with you" she nodded her head towards you, and your heart broke at the way his expression changed. was it discomfort? disgust? disappointment?

"oh, that's alright. i'm taking a cab back to campus" you swallowed the lump in your throat. tashi only elbowed him at the side, prompting him to say something.

"no, no i can drive you, it's fine" and that's how you ended up on his passenger seat, blinking away your tears as you faced away from him. it was awkward, maybe that's understating it. art's drumming his fingers on the wheel, you can't see it but he looks like a fish trying to figure out what to say to you and backing out the last second. maybe you're asleep? he can't see your face that well.

until you accidentally let out a sniffle, art's head whipped towards you. "are you– are you okay?"

you really tried to keep it in, there's nothing more humiliating than scaring the boy you've liked for years by crying out of nowhere, while he was driving you back to your dorm. his question only drove you to sob harder, your hands pressed against your face to hide your tears from him.

"y/n?" you only shook your head, hiccuping as you sob. you don't even know what you're crying about anymore but you can't stop.

art breathes out of his nose, pulling over the side of the road before facing towards you. "hey, look at me?" you sniffed, refusing to turn to him. god, you must look like a mess right now.

you quiet down at the sound of his sigh, your sobs fading and replaced with hiccups. how could you face him now?–

art grabs your wrist gently and pries them away from your face, well, there goes the answer to your question. his eyes scanned your tear stained face, the way your eyes look up at him through your wet lashes, your nose red and lips plump. he could barely let out a word at the sight "i–"

you cut him off, "i'm sorry" you sniffled, "i didn't– i just"

"hey, it's alright" he pushes the hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. even in your state, you couldn't help the way your stomach fluttered at the gesture. this is the first time he's been this close to you after all, probably not with everyone else. has he done this with your other friends? is this how he comforts them when they cry out of nowhere? they're probably not stupid enough to cry like this, they probably don't even have any reason to–

your thoughts were cut off as he lowered his face to meet your gaze, "y/n? y/n?" you blush, shaking your head and pulling away from his touch. "sorry, just zoned out for a sec" you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, and art frowns in the driver's seat.

"what's going on?"

"no, nothing. i'm just tired, had a long day i guess" you laughed it off, only to come out as a weird noise that further embarrassed you.

"is it me?" his voice sounded smaller than usual, defeated even. your head whips towards him and he looks so ... anxious? "you've been avoiding me"

"i– no?" he scoffs, his fingers anxiously tapping on the wheel. "i just– fine, i have been avoiding you" you sighed, you figured since you've already embarrassed yourself by breaking down in front of him, you might as well do this now.

"it's just ... how come you're nice to everyone but me?" he raises an eyebrow at your question, "am i not nice to you?"

"no, i mean ... well, you're kind of ... flirty with everyone ... and it's making me feel left out" you wish the seats would swallow you right then and there.

"oh"

oh.

should you get out of the car and just walk to your dorm and leave your friend group and maybe leave stanford and maybe leave your tennis dreams behind?

"i'm sorry" art ducks his head, "i didn't mean to? i mean, no i did– not that i was purposefully leaving you out– well, i was but i didn't mean to make you feel left out, i just–" he sighs, dropping his head onto his hands. "i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and my friends know me well enough to know that it's never serious and i don't want you to think that as well"

now you're confused, "you don't want me to think that you're never serious?"

"i mean, if– when i do flirt with you, i don't want you to think that i'm just playing around" he lifts his head and meets your eyes.

"and i just get really nervous around you that it makes me all jittery and i don't know, i was scared that i might end up doing too much and you'll think i'm weird so i just ... don't."

you shake your head in disbelief, "wait, back up– what do you mean you don't want me to think you're just playing around?"

he shifts his gaze and ruffles the back of his hair, "i know this is really stupid and you might hate me for it but i've actually ... i actually have a crush on you"

"and i know it was cruel of me to flirt with everyone right in front of you and i have no good reasons for that, a part of me thought that maybe you'll initiate something because i was too much of a pussy so i'm really sorry ... and you can call me stupid and dumb for as long as you want ... if you'll still have me?"

you stare at him in disbelief, but the way his usual charisma is gone and is replaced by a jittery and blushing art led you to believe that he's sincere. "so i can call you my idiot?"

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home

Hey guyss, I wanted to write a story for Charles to celebrate his victory in Monza. I know this part is very reader x Arthur but let me know what you think and if you want more parts :)

You’ve known the Leclercs all your life. It’s hard not to when you’re their neighbour. With you and Arthur being the same age and going to the same class, you naturally became best friends, spending every moment together. From school to afternoons playing at each other's houses to accompanying his family to the track for their races, your lives were intertwined.

You grew up with them. You were there when Arthur won his first race, when Charles got into Formula 1, when you graduated high school. Your life has always been surrounded by the Leclercs, so it was almost inevitable that you’d fall for one of them—Charles.

It was evident to everyone. Even Arthur noticed, and he didn’t like it at all. He made you promise you would never date his brother. After all, how could he stand that when he was in love with you, even if you had no idea?

Your crush on Charles was just that—a crush, an infatuation, a dream. He was older than you and often had a different girl on his arm. You didn’t stand a chance, or so you thought.

Aside from your love dilemmas, everything seemed to be going okay, until one day, your father received a job offer that involved moving to Spain. Your life changed drastically from one day to the next. You spent your last night in Monaco with Arthur, savouring your final hours together before your departure.

The moon hung low over Monaco, casting a soft glow on the city. You and Arthur sat on the steps of the Leclercs' home, the cool night air surrounding you. It was quiet, the kind of silence that carries a weight of unspoken words.

"I can't believe you're leaving," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't either," you replied, looking down at your hands. "It all happened so fast. One moment, everything was normal, and the next, we're packing up our lives."

Arthur nodded, staring off into the distance. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

You felt a lump in your throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. We've done everything together since we were kids. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "You'll do great things. You always do. Spain…it's just a new adventure for you."

"But I don't want to go," you blurted out, the tears you had been holding back starting to spill over. "I want to stay here, with you, with everyone. I don’t want to leave my life behind."

Arthur reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was tender, lingering longer than usual. "Hey, don’t cry. We’ll still be friends, no matter where you are. You know that, right?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I know, but it's not the same."

He hesitated for a moment, as if battling with himself. "I just…I want you to know that…you mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize."

You gave a small, shaky laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, Arthur. You're my best friend."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah…best friends."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Arthur gazed at you, his eyes searching yours, and you thought you saw something flicker there—a brief, intense flash of emotion that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Before you could decipher it, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly against him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured into your hair.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "And I'll always be here for you."

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to let go, until the sky began to lighten with the first signs of dawn. With a heavy heart, you pulled back, knowing it was time to go.

"Goodbye, Arthur," you whispered.

"Goodbye," he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked away, you missed the way he watched you, the way his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to call you back, to tell you everything he’d been holding inside. But he didn’t. He let you go.

Years had passed since that night. You had spent the last four years in Spain, earning your degree and living a different life. But now, you were back in Monaco, ready to start your master's degree.

The airport buzzed with activity, a mix of tourists and locals rushing to their destinations. You walked through the arrival gate, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And there he was.

Arthur stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted you. His hair was a bit longer, and he looked more mature, but his eyes still held that same warmth you remembered.

"Welcome back," he said, pulling you into a hug as you reached him.

"It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice softer. He pulled back, looking you over. "Spain's been good to you. You look great."

"Thanks," you said, blushing slightly. "You look good too, Arthur. Really good."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's been…different without you here."

You smiled, linking your arm through his as you started walking towards the exit. "Well, I'm back now. We have a lot of catching up to do."

As you talked, Arthur felt his heart swell with every word you said, every smile you gave. Seeing you again brought back all those feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But he knew better than to show it. You still saw him as your best friend, nothing more. And after all this time, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, keeping his voice light. "So, where to first? Home or food?"

You laughed. "Definitely food. I’m starving!"

Arthur chuckled, guiding you towards his car. "Food it is, then. I've got just the place in mind."

As he drove, he stole glances at you, soaking in every detail, every expression. He had never stopped loving you, even after all these years. But for now, he was content just having you back in his life, even if it was just as friends.

Because being near you, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile—that was enough. At least, for now.

Part 2

[jo-speaks]

Hi, Can I request a crybaby! reader x Quinn where the reader cries easily 😭 I love your writing btw! tysm 🌸

SWEET BLUES

overview: even the smallest gifts can get you overwhelmed with emotions.

warnings: none!

note: i absolutely love this request!! i did keep it short, but i hope you enjoy, sweet nonnie <3

You wouldn’t say you were sensitive, per se. But emotional? One hundred percent.

It didn’t matter if the situation made you extremely joyful, incredibly sad, or anything in between, but it truly felt as if you had no control over it as soon as the first tear slipped. It was like trying to build a dam to hold back all the water that fell from Niagara Falls. 

So when you first started dating Quinn, it was a shock to him, to say the least. 

Quinn knocked on your apartment door, waiting for you to grace him with the presence of not only yourself but the warmth of your apartment which heavily contrasted with the cool Vancouver air. 

You opened the door, a smile appearing on your face as you met eyes with your boyfriend of eight months. “Hey, you.” 

He chuckled at your greeting, “Hi, baby.”

Opening the entrance further, Quinn stepped into your place, immediately crowding your space to place a cold-lipped kiss on your warm ones. You relaxed in his hold, before being distracted by the sound of faint rustling. You pulled away, your eyes following the directions given by your ears. 

Looking down, you noticed Quinn was holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He followed your gaze, lifting them to your hold. 

“I noticed the ones I got you last month were wilting, so I figured I’d restock them myself.” He admitted, causing a warm feeling to rush to your cheeks. 

You didn’t say anything, opting to pull him in with your arms slung tightly around his broad shoulders. He leaned down to hold you close, wrapping his arms around your waist, trying not to make you uncomfortable with the wrapping of his gift. 

“Thank you.” You sniffled, your voice barely audible as your mouth was muffled against his shirt. 

Quinn pulled away from you, feeling a damp patch on his shoulder. He immediately found your eyes the guilty culprit, redness replacing the usual white of your pupil with tears falling from them like a stream.

“Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He asked, panic setting in. 

You nodded, smiling at him. “It’s just a really sweet gesture. I really appreciate it, Q.” 

He laughed at your reaction, not understanding how flowers made you cry this badly, but regardless, he was glad you liked his gift enough to induce tears.

“C’mon. Let’s get these in some water and then watch a movie or something, hm?” He suggested, wanting to do more than just stand with you as you cried. 

You choked out a reply, taking the bouquet from his hand and walking into the kitchen to replace the dying flowers from their home. You set them aside, wanting to use the dried petals for cute memorabilia you’d most likely end up keeping for yourself or gifting to Quinn.

Quinn took the vase, pouring out the polluted liquid and replacing it with fresh water from the tap. He brought it back over, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cut the tips of the stems of the flowers before placing them into the refreshed dish.

“Looks great,” Quinn mumbled, placing an innocent kiss on your neck. 

When you didn’t answer, Quinn quirked an eyebrow before leaning over your shoulder to notice even more tears slipping from your eyes. 

This time, he couldn’t help but let out a full-throated laugh. Not at you, but at your reaction. 

“Baby! What is it now?” He asked, trying to contain himself. 

You shared a wet laugh with him, “It’s just- I don’t know!”

The two of you laughed together, tears yet to halt their release. Quinn held you close, his warm, gasping breaths tickling your neck as he tried to stop himself. 

Eventually, you both calmed down. Quinn turned you around to face him, placing a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and ending on your lips, his kiss lingering as he tasted the saltiness that had dripped onto your mouth. 

“You’re such a crybaby.” He teased, his tone endearing. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Whatever.”

He chuckled, “Might have to start carrying tissues with me if this is how you’re gonna react whenever I get you a gift.”

“Honestly, that might be a good idea.”

[allykabbet]

Sneezing dynamics I like

Apologetic sneezes. I don’t need to say much more. Maybe when they’re really tired, they forget to apologize after sneezing, making the other person worry.

Someone who usually stifles their sneezes but doesn’t when they’re REALLY comfortable with someone. They’re not very loud either.

False starts. Both the sneezer and the observer can feel the same type of frustration and desperation.

A person who appears outgoing, charismatic, confident, and naturally elegant but becomes shy and embarrassed when they lose control. They might stifle sneezes whenever possible, trying to avoid drawing attention, which ironically ends up drawing more attention, and then apologizes out of habit.

Someone politely steps aside from another person to sneeze into their elbow, turning to the side. "Sorry, what were you saying..." They compose themselves, but then, just a few seconds later, they turn away to sneeze again in the middle of the other person’s sentence.

Continuing the interrupted sentence after a sneeze, causing the words to come out breathless, tired, or congested.

"I didn’t know you sneezed so much when you were sick." Rediscovering new aspects of someone when they’re sick.

Becoming more affectionate or clingy when not feeling well?

Raising a finger to pause the other person before sneezing. A classic.

Sneezing into the elbow, wrist, or forearm.

Sneezing into a handkerchief, muffled, and then blowing their nose almost immediately.

Sneezing twice in such quick succession that the other person struggles to tell if it was one or two sneezes.

"Sorry, I can’t stop" or "Sorry, it got me..."

The other person grabs a roll of paper towels, asks a third person for tissues, or hands over napkins without the sneezy one asking, just because they see them sniffling or tearing up more than usual.

“Bless you. And bless you” before they sneeze a second time, just because of their pre-sneeze face.

"ATChsshu! [Insert generic sneeze sound] "Achu. Bless you!" The other person imitates the sneeze, not mockingly, just because they find it cute, before blessing them.

Fanning themselves before sneezing without realizing it, or subtly rubbing one side of their nose with a curved finger to hold back the sneeze.

SOFT sneezes. Not stifled, just intrinsically soft, as if they didn’t have the strength to sneeze more forcefully.

Clenching their teeth to stifle a sneeze and exhaling through their teeth afterward.

Two people sleeping next to each other, one spooning the other from behind. The big spoon can’t avoid sneezing but holds it back to avoid spraying the little spoon, making their whole body shake. The effort leaves them dizzy.

Sneeze followed by a congested, heavy exhalation. Pressing the bridge of the nose and shaking their head. Blinking several times and trying to concentrate on the pile of work in front of them.

Someone at public events who don’t want to sneeze, making subtle gestures like rubbing their nose with a finger, clearing their throat, swallowing, or squinting. They’re more distracted than usual, sniffling very discreetly, pressing the bridge of their nose.

A stoic character in a position of power losing control. Their subordinates seeing them as human for the first time and growing fond of their condition.

They usually sneeze in a certain way until suddenly they let out a different sneeze (maybe because they’re tired of stifling it or because it’s stronger than usual), and the other person exclaims, “Bless you!” instead of blessing them softly, and makes a comment about it. “That was strong, are you okay?”

Small comforting gestures, almost unconsciously. Lightly rubbing their back, a small touch on the forearm or leg, or gently brushing their hair.

A very polite, elegant person cursing after their fifth or sixth sneeze in a fit. “...fuck. So sorry, I can’t stop…”

“Ok-eh-aysSHTCHu!” A sneeze mixing with the last word they were saying.

A character with a mystical, almost distant aura. Probably powerful, mysterious, doing something as mundane as sneezing and “coming down” to earth. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s normal.”

Sneezing during an interview. So many situations could happen with this 🤭

“I’m going to die” A little bit of drama, exhausted, after a very strong sneezing fit.

Workaholic sick.

Sneezing and/or while smoking.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Grouchy

Katrina Gorry x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're not very happy

With Clara taking Harper to kindie, it meant that Katrina could focus on the sobbing baby that refused to settle.

You'd woken up in a foul mood with a sniffly red nose and a persistent cough that had you throwing up so much phlegm that even Harper knew something was wrong with you.

"Okay," Katrina says softly as she gently pats your back to help you clear your throat," How about a bath, huh? Would a bath be good, bubs?"

You screech in answer and try to push her away with your little uncoordinated limbs. You whine loudly when she takes you out of your onesie and slips into the bath behind you.

You usually take your baths with Harper so having Mummy sitting in the bath with you is different and strange. You screech even louder when lukewarm water is gently poured over your body in an attempt to cool you down.

You're overheated and your head is stuffed full of cotton. You try to wiggle away but Mummy's got a firm grip on you.

"You're a little grouch today, huh, bubs?" Katrina says softly when you out a particularly loud cry followed by kicking your little legs in a chance to escape. "What is it? Are you missing Harps? You know she's got kindie now."

You huff a little bit when you don't get free and opt to go limp instead. That relaxes Mummy a bit, you think, because she finally gets up out of the bath and wraps you in one of the towels nearby.

She holds you up at a distance from her as you begin coughing again, shaking her head softly. "Harps gave you a cough, huh?" She coos as she heads back into the living room," I told your Ma that kindie was a bad idea. Look at you, all sick and grouchy."

You huff again after another round of coughs.

"How about we get you a bottle, bubs? Nice, warm bottle of milk."

That's usually enough to stop whatever icky feelings you've got but you just refuse to take it today, turning your head away and forcing the nip out of your mouth whenever Katrina puts it in.

Katrina laughs slightly at your stubbornness and puts the bottle aside. You stare at her with unblinking eyes. You're still visibly sick with your cheeks burning red, bags under your eyes and the way you're taking big deep breaths through your open mouth instead of your nose.

She wipes the snot away and you scrunch your whole face up like you're insulted that she's even touching you.

"Ooh," Katrina coos softly, more than a little endeared at the little faces you're making," You're very grouchy today, bubs. Look at this little pout." She thumbs your bottom lip and you open your mouth.

She knows that this is her chance and she pops the bottle back into your mouth. Your eyebrows scrunch up at being tricked but you don't try to spit it out again while still making sure Mama knows you're angry at her as you stare unblinking up at her.

Katrina just smiles at you. Your little scrunch is just like Harper's and your even tinier hands are scrunched up like you're about to start swinging.

You break away from the bottle to drag in breath and sneeze.

"Oh! That's a big sneeze!"

You sniffle as Mama wipes your nose again and tries to give you the bottle. You refuse again and stick your tongue out and Mama laughs at you.

She's not yet gotten you dressed yet, just put you in your nappy, so you do tummy time like that.

You're not particularly enjoying it though and you make sure your annoyance is known again by letting out your signature screech.

Katrina rolls her eyes but still keeps her smile. You must be feeling pretty bad because you usually love tummy time but you keep smacking your hands on the ground and crying.

"Okay," Mama says as she picks you right back up. You don't settle quickly or easily but you're certainly calmer now that you're back in her arms rather than on your tummy time mat. "What are we going to do, bubs? You're a little funny today."

You grunt and lean against Mama's collarbone.

Katrina can feel the fever still racing through you but it's less hot than earlier. She knew that this sudden wave of sickness came from Harper's first week of kindie when she came home with the sniffles.

It hit you particularly hard because of how much younger you were than Harper and how much she loved you. Every time she went away, she came straight back home with cuddles for you and so many kisses that Katrina and Clara both had to drag her away at times to not overwhelm you.

"Are you just going to stay here? All nice and snuggly, huh?"

You grunt again but don't really do anything else and Mama has to reach down to grab a blanket and wrap it around you. She wipes your runny nose again and goes back into her bedroom.

Mama lies down in her bed and positions you so you're horizontal again. The change makes your eyes droop closed instantly, like suddenly your limbs are all weak and tired.

"That's a good girl, bubs," Mummy says, her voice low and soft as she runs her nails up and down your back softly," I think a little nap is all you need, huh? A nice nap to get this bug out of your system."

A small whine comes out of your mouth when she stops as she leans over to flick on the white noise machine. Her nails resume their gentle patterns though when she notices that you're fighting sleep again.

You drop off soon after, a combination of the soft hum of the machine, Katrina's gentle hands on your back and your general sickness.

She smiles softly at you, gently readjusting you so she can snap a picture to send to Clara. It's not often that she gets private time with you.

Harper's been enamoured with you the moment you were born, stuck to your side like a little shadow while Clara held you like you were surgically attached.

It was nice, sometimes, to just have you all to herself.

Even if you were a little grouchy.

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

Vern's Hometown Centennial Celebration

Book 3: Dance of the Hours

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Chapter 5: A Fleeting Dream

Vern tilts his head as he sniffles. The freezing rain starts to steadily fall. A few stray strands of hair start sticking to his face. Blinking to clear the tears in his eyes, he stares at Steel with a hesitant smile.

"A-are you umm... really here?" he tries to wipe some tears away.

Steel leans back on his hand, "yeah, uh.. my UM lets me go into other people's dreams."

"You can..." he can't help but lightly laugh even as dizziness sets in.

Smiling softly, Steel seems to relax a little. It briefly vanishes as Vern sways, "careful, and yeah? You okay? Aside from the obvious."

The sprite shakes his head. Hesitating for a few moments, he abruptly throws his arms him. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," Steel almost loses balance but manages to hold both their weights. After a moment, he tentatively returns the hug. The trees and scenery begin to drip like watercolors. His voice gets a little softer, "we can talk when you wake up, if you want. I don't always remember these dreams."

"I umm... would like that," Vern's grip on him tightens, "it's okay if you umm... forget. I'll try and um... remember for both of us."

"Re- uh.. thanks."

The small orb of light slips out of Steel's pocket. It gives a small shake as it floats in front of his face.

"Eh? Uh, thanks for helping earlier."

Vern shifts to see who he's talking to. His eyes widen as the little ball of light does a happy loop.

"What... umm.. who is this..?"

Steel shrugs, "it brought me to you."

The sprite absently reaches for it. Shrinking back for a moment, the orb seems to hesitate.

"It's okay..." he murmurs soothingly.

A few moments pass before the orb floats back. It slowly moves closer to nestle itself into his hand. Vern's breath catches. Bringing the light close to him, a tightness grips his chest. Tears sting his eyes, again. It feels as though sand is clogging his throat. "You... you're here?"

The orb wiggles before slipping away from his grip.

"W-wait," he tries to catch it. Zipping away, it seems to laugh. Vern watches it weave through the paint drips before vanishing. A sad smile crosses his features.

Their surroundings are getting fuzzier. The sprite tries wiping fresh tears away before turning back to Steel. "It's ummm... I'm waking up.. right?"

"Yeah.. I'll see you soon."

Chapter 6: To Feel What's Real

The faint scent of dusty herbs fills his senses. A warmth envelopes his entire body. It was as if he was back to being a small child again. Opening his eyes feels like prying a rusted door off its hinges.

He squints through the steam. Fuzzy silhouettes gradually come into focus as he slowly blinks. Registering Archie's familiar form supporting him, he slowly looks around. He notes Shirley pausing her spell with watery eyes.

Granting her a reassuring smile, she tentatively steps into the water. A slight splash catches his attention. Moving his body feels like attempting to push a mountain. The tension in his stone like muscles stiffly eases.

Steel shifts away from Castor. He slicks his hair back and out of his eyes while muttering his gratitude.

Songs:

Tell Me by Milet

Mercy Mirror by Within Temptation

@nrcbookclub @castaway-achlys @nightonthemountain This is the interactive part

Book 1: [1] [2] [3]

Book 2: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5A] [5B] [6] [7]

Book 3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

[buckyalpine]

Bucky uses safe word

I was feeling angstyyyyy 

Warnings: Use of safe word, sub space, overstimulation, slight non-verbal Bucky, aftercare, 

“I can take it” Bucky nodded, sucking in a breath when he heard the clink the cuff, pushing aside his anxieties, instead focusing on your pretty, naked body. “I’m ready”  

This wasn’t particularly new to Bucky; letting you take control while you toyed with his body, pulling pleasure from him while you also pleasured yourself. He loved giving himself to you, taking everything you’d give him, the satisfied, lust filled dazed look on your face fulfilling him in a way he couldn’t explain. 

It started with just letting you riding him on top to him now allowing you to push his body further and further, testing his limits. 

He loved it. 

The feel of your hands closing around his neck.

The feel of your nails scratching his skin. 

The feel of your palms striking his flushed cheek. 

The feel of pleasure shooting through his body, just to be stopped right before his release.

It was a delicious, painful torture. 

Maybe because he felt he deserved it. Pain was all he knew. It felt right. 

Even when he wasn’t ready for it.

Like right now. 

The usual prickles of pleasure he’d feel from your nails when you gripped onto his shoulders to ride him felt too hot. His body ached, mind too hazy to focus on the way you bounced up and down on his length, instead his throat closing in on itself, feeling trapped as the restraints dug into his wrists.

He knew he was safe with you, that no one could hurt him, that he had full control to stop everything when he wanted. Yet, he was slipping further and further into a deep space where he couldn’t speak for himself, where he had to be silent and just take what was given to him. He tried so hard to be good, to let you satisfy yourself on him, to ignore the pain of overstimulation between his legs, to ignore the way he was struggling to breathe, his chest starting to heave with panic. He should’ve listened to the voice that screamed at him to be honest about how he felt. 

That tonight, he needed soft loving and cuddles, that he just wanted you to hold and take care of him. Hot tears welled in his lash line, no longer able to hold it together, forcing the word out as best as he could, he didn’t want to disappoint you but he was drowning. 

“R-red” 

You froze hearing the tiny whimper, immediately stopping your movements and reaching over to release the cuffs, setting them out of view. 

“It’s okay sweet boy, its okay” You cooed, carefully slipping off, not wanting to overstimulate Bucky further, your hands softly massaging his wrists. He curled up in on himself, shame and guilt clouding his mind, slipping deeper into subspace, unable to swim to the surface. 

“So-sorry” He hiccupped, tears streaming down his face, a part of him thinking he deserved punishment again, having stopped you when he could have just sucked it up for a moment longer. “m’s-sorry” 

“No baby, don’t. Can I touch you?” He gave you a small nod, letting you cup his cheek, gently guiding him to look at you while he tried to hide his face into the pillow, refusing to look at you, “Look at me Jamie” You wiped the tears that continued to fall, pulling him to your chest while he sniffled, burying his face between your breasts. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you used your safe word bub, m’so proud of you” You could feel some of the tension ease from his shoulders though only getting a whimper from him as a response. You continued to kiss his forehead, rubbing soothing circles down his spine, while he slowly started to regulate his breathing, following the rise and fall of your chest. “So proud of you baby boy” 

He looked at you with wide eyes when you shift from under him, clinging onto you tighter, unable to speak but his face telling you he didn’t want you to go anywhere. 

“I’m going to clean you up baby, not going anywhere” You pecked his forehead before grabbing a warm wash cloth and soothing lotion, the one with a lavender scent that he found calming. Your heart broke at the way his body flinched, as if he was anticipating a painful strike, eyes squeezing shut, waiting for the blow. 

“I won’t hurt you baby, you’re safe” You held back your own tears, cleaning his sweat slicked body, kissing away the sore areas before carefully moving lower. “Shhh, almost done, you’re doing so good for me bub” You gently wiped his thighs, using only a feather light touch when you got closer to where he was most sensitive, rubbing up and down his tensed muscles to ground him. He whined at the feeling of you brushing over his sensitive cock, squeezing his thighs together. 

“M’sorry baby, just a little bit more” you cooed, dabbing away your sticky mixed arousal before tossing away the cloth. “I’m going to get you some water and take care of you, okay?” 

Bucky nodded, reluctantly letting you go, trembling slightly when you pulled up the covers to tuck him in. You found your robe, slipping it on while you quickly went to the kitchen to get some juice and snacks, noting he seemed to prefer sweet things when he got like this. You grabbed his favorite peanut butter cups and some strawberries, cutting them up into smaller bite sized pieces before bringing them up. 

He was happy to curl into your lap, letting you feed him between taking sips of water, toying with the corner of the blanket, a nervous habit he had when he was unsure of how to communicate. 

“How are you feeling baby, do you want to tell me what happened?” You tested the waters, still hugging his body to yours, letting him take his time while he peered up at you through his dark lashes. 

“Just wanted cuddles today” He managed to get out, still guilty over having used the safe word, “Sorry-

You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, before letting him rest his head into the crook of your neck. “Don’t, don’t apologize for using it, I’m glad you did, okay? You were so good baby boy, do you still want cuddles?” You checked on him to be sure, squealing when he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his leg hitched over your body, feeling especially needy for you to hold him.

“Still wan’ cuddles” he whispered, closing his eyes as you pulled up the covers, protecting him in a safe cocoon of warmth. 

“You can always tell me if you just want cuddles baby” You ran your fingers through his hair, letting him snuggle further against your chest, “Always”

[hoonigiris]

— bye bye my blue

y. jungwon x f!reader

wc: 2.3k genre: hurt/comfort, angst content: reader is older than jungwon (reader is called noona), insecurities, relationship growing pains and they're both horrible at communication. but they're growing!! and they're growing together :') misc. notes: title inspired by bye bye my blue by baek yerin :)part one of my jungwon noona anthology series, birds of a feather.

on a tuesday afternoon, jungwon finds you on the bathroom floor.

somehow, he knows something is wrong before he sees it, a weird feeling twisting in his gut the moment he opens the door to your apartment. the shades are still drawn, there’s a half-eaten bowl of food still sitting on the counter, and, most importantly, you’re not there. you’re not anywhere—not on the couch, not in your room, not in the kitchen. the door shuts behind him, a disturbance in the air.

it’s too quiet.

jungwon stops at the doorway, slipping off one shoe at a time. and then, carefully, he opens his mouth. “noona?”

it sits in the open air for a moment, waiting, and then he tries again, the feeling in his gut creeping up his throat. “noona, are you here?”

he steps further into your apartment, about to call your name one more time, until something rustles in the bathroom. jungwon stops, ears straining. a beat of silence. he steps forward, avoiding the single creaky wooden panel three feet from the door, socked feet practically sliding across the floor to avoid any unnecessary noise, until he hears it again.

a small sniffle, the ghost of a shaky breath echoing in the bathroom and trickling out from underneath the door. jungwon’s bag immediately drops from his shoulders. 

you’re hurt, his head starts blaring.

his right foot moves first. and then his left. and before he knows it, he’s stumbling through the hallway towards the bathroom on instinct alone. jungwon’s hip rams into the edge of the corner table placed at the beginning of the hallway, a loud bang as it slams in the wall behind it. he registers it distantly, the noise, the burst of pain that shoots into the bone, but it doesn’t matter. none of it does, not when you’re holed up in the bathroom, all alone.

his hand flies to the doorknob, heart in the pit of his stomach—and he stops.

the voice in his head is still screaming at him to hurry, you’rehurtyou’rehurtyou’rehurt—but the metal lies cool against the heat of his palm, and jungwon takes a deep, shaky breath. he forces his panic to dilute into something more palpable, more manageable, to where he can swallow it down from the back of his throat to his chest and think.

he can’t force his way in, not if you didn’t want him to. whatever hurt he feels at that thought, jungwon shoves aside in favor of leaning his forehead against the wood, one hand clutched at the doorknob, the other raising slowly in a closed fist.

jungwon knocks once, then twice. he calls your name tentatively again, fragile as his lips form around the word. he hopes it’s enough to pass through the door, the walls you’ve yet to let down, the ones you still haven’t let him walk through.

he can’t tell if the silence that follows after is contemplation or guilt or embarrassment, but even so, he knocks again anyway. “noona, are you there?” please. “can i come in?” please, just let me in.

and again, nothing. jungwon tries to discern the silence, pressing his ear flush to the door trying to pick up any sign that you were okay, but it’s hard to tell when all he can hear is the thumping in his own chest, the blood pounding in his ears.

there’s a sort of shame that ripples in jungwon, stifling in his chest.

the gap between you and him is something he rarely forgets, with the way you shower him in adoration and praise him until his cheeks flush cherub-like. stubbornly, he wants to be more, but all jungwon has done is wait. he makes himself patient and he waits for the moment where you will finally let him see anything deeper than the smile you give him every day, where you stop seeing him as the younger boyfriend and someone to take care of and instead see him as someone you can rely on instead, where you tell him your thoughts and worries and peel back your layers and trust that jungwon will handle your rawest form with care.

he’d thought that maybe if he proved that he was good enough, capable enough, then you’d eventually let him in. but jungwon had convinced himself of that months ago, and now it’s come to this. you, locked in your bathroom and crying alone, and him, outside and still waiting.

(maybe the problem really is him. maybe even after all this time, he still isn’t the man you need him to be. perhaps you don’t really need him at all.)

“noona,” jungwon tries again, quietly, slumped against the wood. “please.” even if you didn’t need him, he needs you, still. “just let me know if you’re okay.”

something shifts, at that. the rustling of clothes on the other side of the door, a shaky exhale. jungwon would have been satisfied with that, really, his hand slipping from the doorknob and the offer to just go back home ready to leave from his lips along with his heart placed bleeding at the doorway. but instead:

“you can come in.” it’s so quiet it’s almost a whisper, the echo of the bathroom muffled through the door, but it’s the clearest thing jungwon has heard all day.

a few seconds pass, and the door creaks open, light spilling out into the hallway. a lump immediately forms in jungwon’s throat.

sat in the middle of the bathroom floor, a crumpled white button-up shirt between your hands, you look like a mess. red-rimmed and puffy-eyed, you stare up at him with a distinct quiver in your lip, like the mere sight of him sent your hastily reconstructed sand castle walls crumbling again. but you gather yourself again quickly, patting down any loose pieces of sand into form and pulling your lips into a sheepish smile.

“hi, wonie,” you greet, embarrassment peeking through. your cheeks are still wet, shining in the light when you tilt your head up at him. “you’re back early.”

jungwon used to think the worst thing he’d have to overcome was never being able to see any version of you but the perfectly curated mask you try to show him, but he thinks this is worse. to finally see you like this, and to have you look back at him as if you’d been caught, like being vulnerable was akin to some wrongdoing, like you’d been spotted with your hand in the cookie jar and he was the uninvited witness.

“ahh…” you breathe out, laughing. “i guess there’s no point in hiding it now.” there’s a certain look of guilt in your smile when you look at him that makes jungwon’s gut twist. “sorry you had to see me like this.”

“that’s not—” jungwon tries, but whatever that was supposed to come out next lodges in his throat, somewhere between breath and speech. “don’t—don’t apologize.”

your smile falters a little, hands falling into your lap. another ‘sorry’ gets lost between the two of you, mute at his admonition.

it feels a bit like a scolding, with how you avert your eyes from him and stare at the ground, and jungwon feels even more at a loss. he looks at you and then the shirt and then back at you again, running over anything he could possibly say to soothe over the awkward silence. and then, finally, “what happened?”

jungwon barely hears himself say it, the whisper so faint he’s not sure he even voiced it at all. you blink, eyes wet. your lip catches between your teeth deliberating, before you exhale.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head. you smile at him again, half-hearted and consoling. “it was stupid, don’t worry about it.”

your smile falls the second you see the look in his eyes, the hurt he can’t control that displays clear on his face. jungwon reels it in quickly, but you try to mend the wound before it can fester further.

“i spilled my coffee on my shirt,” you confess, holding up the stain. “i, um… i couldn’t get it out.” you look down at it again, and then back up at him, sheepish. “see, i told you it was stupid.”

there’s more to it, jungwon knows there is. a stain on some shirt of yours wouldn’t warrant breaking down into tears and sobbing in the bathroom; there was something you weren’t telling him, something you were deliberately hiding from him.

the last thing he ever wants to do is pressure you into divulging what you’re not ready to reveal, but how could he let it go now? how could he see you like this with his own eyes and turn away like he saw nothing at all?

“what happened?” he repeats, gently.

the question presses into you further, and you shake your head softly. “i told you—”

“do you trust me?” he interrupts, still quiet. do you trust me enough to lay yourself bare? do you trust me enough to know that you could let yourself crumble and i would still be there to catch you? do you trust me enough to take care of you?

your eyes dart to him immediately, panic splayed on your face. it’s like you can sense something falling apart, you or him or both, together, but you immediately try to patch it together again. maybe it was just in your nature. “what? of course i—i love you. i love you so much, you know that.”

your bottom lip stiffens as soon as the confession sounds, the sudden, unfiltered vulnerability resulting in you hiding the way your lip wobbles as you avert your gaze away, blinking away glassy eyes. you’re holding back your tears, again. 

jungwon swallows hard.

(distantly, he wonders if this is all he is to you, someone you have to hold back for.

love and trust aren’t the same thing, and equating the two isn’t much of an assurance when something ugly and resentful has been curling in his chest ever since he stepped foot into your apartment; not at you, but at himself.

must you carry the weight of him along with everything else? is this all he is good for? to only see you in your good moments and be kept in the dark as you handle everything all by yourself in the bad?)

but you sniffle, an instinctive jerk of the body you can’t hide, and he pushes the ugly, resentful thing in his chest aside. jungwon steps forward, bit by bit. he can wallow in his failings another time—all that matters right now is you. 

“what can i do?” he asks, finally, open-eyed and pleading.

a part of him wonders if he can even do anything, if you even want him to do anything for you, or if he’ll be thrown back into his regular pattern of waiting. waiting for you to come to him, waiting to be let in again as you cast him out yet again to deal with everything on your own. 

he can’t demand anything of you, but right now, he wishes you would just lean on him, if only a little; he wishes you would ask him for something, anything. he wishes you would want to.

jungwon can’t do anything you don’t ask him too. it haunts him, this constant fear of being a burden to you, to be helpless even when he’s trying. his attempts are nothing but clumsy and stumbling, and it wouldn’t be anything but more trouble on your plate if he extends his hand and you don’t need it, you don’t want it. you'd both be left with something lingering in empty space with no one to claim it.

but perhaps his desperation to not be helpless gets to you too, because you take a shaky breath, clutching the shirt tighter between your fingers. and then, quietly: “can you just hold me? please?”

jungwon moves forward without a sound, kneeling down to the floor and taking you in his arms. the shirt falls down into your lap as you wrap your arms around him and hold yourself tight to his chest. neither of you say anything—perhaps you don’t know how to say it. or maybe, there’s nothing else that needs to be said, not at this moment.

you grab onto him like a lifeline, gasping out the beginning of sobs that threaten to rip out from your chest again, and jungwon sits there, letting you. he doesn’t need an apology, he doesn’t need an explanation. some would call it selfish, maybe, to have you taking what you please when you find it suitable, but the selfish you is what jungwon has been searching for this whole time.

jungwon wants you to be selfish of him. he wants you to want him for yourself, even if it’s just to be there with you. he'll let you take as much as you need from him, because it isn’t taking if he’s giving it to you.

later, after the tears have all dried, you will tell him the truth. at least, the parts of it you can properly articulate. how the coffee stain was the last straw of a shitty day in a shittier week, how you didn’t want to trouble him by complaining about something you hoped would soon pass, how you never dropped any mention of having a hard time to him because when you were together, everything else didn’t really matter that much anymore.

it wasn’t a matter of trust. just love.

but for now, on a tuesday afternoon on the bathroom floor, you hold him tight as you cry, and you let him hold you back.

[elryuse]

i came here from wattpad 🙌🙌 i love your writings, idk if you're still accepting request but if you are , i would like to request a drunk winter x male reader fluff, just a short one will do. just a spark from watching a lot of drunk scenes from kdramas, like the one in my demon lol. im sorry if this is a burden but cant wait to hear from you soon!

Drunk Call

Winter X Make Reader

Fluffy fluff fluff

Exhaustion gnawed at my bones, a familiar ache that had become a constant companion these past few weeks. Practice sessions for our upcoming comeback were brutal, the pressure to deliver another hit song gnawing at my confidence. To top it all off, a nasty rumor about me had surfaced online, and the hateful comments felt like a punch to the gut.

Curled up on the dorm couch, I scrolled through the endless stream of negativity, tears blurring my vision. Frustration bubbled over, a silent scream trapped in my throat. "This is stupid," I mumbled, shoving my phone onto the coffee table.

Loneliness, a suffocating weight, settled in my chest. I craved a familiar voice, someone who wouldn't judge, someone who knew the real Winter, not the one fabricated for the cameras. With a sigh, I reached for my phone, my finger hovering over your name. You were more than just my manager; you were my rock, my confidante, the one person who saw through the facade.

Hitting call, I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The first ring felt like an eternity, the second a cruel joke. Just as I was about to give up, your voice, warm and soothing, filled the silence.

"Hey Winter, everything alright?" Your voice, laced with concern, sent a wave of relief washing over me. "Y/n," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. The dam broke then, the frustration, the loneliness, spilling out in a torrent of words. I ranted about the comeback, the rumors, the relentless pressure, the tears blurring my vision all the while.

You listened patiently, your voice a calming balm on my raging emotions. You didn't offer empty platitudes or dismiss my feelings. Instead, you encouraged me to vent, to let it all out. By the time I finished, my voice hoarse and tears drying on my cheeks, a comfortable silence settled between us.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," you said finally, your voice firm but laced with tenderness. The promise sent a warmth blooming in my chest. Just knowing you were on your way chased away the suffocating loneliness.

Twenty minutes later, the soft knock on the door had me scrambling to my feet. Wiping away any lingering tears, I opened the door to find you standing there, a concerned frown creasing your forehead. The sight of you, your worried gaze softening at the sight of me, was a balm to my soul.

"Hey," you said gently, your hand reaching out to cup my cheek. The touch, warm and familiar, grounded me. Without a word, I stepped aside, ushering you into the dorm room.

The state of the room must have been a giveaway. The empty soju bottles on the coffee table, the discarded tissues, and the general air of disarray spoke volumes. You cast a quick glance at the empty bottles, a knowing look in your eyes. "Rough night, huh?" you asked softly.

I nodded, unable to meet your gaze. Shame washed over me, a childish need to apologize for my weakness. But before I could voice my insecurities, you pulled me into a hug. Your embrace was a safe haven, the familiar scent of your cologne a soothing comfort.

"It's okay to not be okay, Winter," you murmured against my hair. "You don't have to be strong all the time." Those words, simple yet profound, shattered the dam of my remaining defenses. Tears welled up again, hot and silent, as I clung to you.

You held me close, whispering words of comfort until my sobs subsided into sniffles. When I finally pulled away, you brushed a stray tear from my cheek, your thumb gently wiping away the moisture. "How about we forget about practice tomorrow?" You suggested, yoir voice laced with concern.

My eyes widened in surprise. "But the comeback…" I began to protest, but you cut me off with a gentle smile. "The comeback can wait," you said firmly. "Right now, you need rest."

There was no arguing with the determined glint in your eyes. With a sigh of surrender, I nodded. You helped me change into my pajamas, the simple act of putting on comfy clothes a small comfort in itself.

Tucking me into bed, you fluffed the pillows and adjusted the covers with a meticulousness that made me smile. "Get some sleep, Winter," you whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on my forehead. "I'll be here in the morning."

As I drifted off to sleep, the weight on my chest had lifted considerably. The knowledge that I wasn't alone, that you were there to catch me when I fell, filled me with a warmth that chased away the lingering shadows of The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting the room in soft stripes of gold. A gentle ache in my head and a dry throat were the only reminders of the previous night's emotional rollercoaster. Yawning, I stretched luxuriously in bed, a small smile playing on my lips.

The faint smell of coffee and something warm and savory drifted towards me. Sitting up, I found a tray on the bedside table laden with a bowl of steaming porridge, a glass of water, and a small cup of coffee with a cartoon bear latte art. My heart warmed.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you said from the doorway, a playful smile on your face. You looked a little sleep-deprived yourself, dark circles under your eyes, but a tenderness lingered in your gaze.

"You didn't have to stay the night," I said, touched by your gesture.

"Well, how could I leave you here alone after last night?" you countered, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, who else would make sure the most important member of AESPA gets a decent breakfast?

I blushed, unable to deny the truth in your words. You carefully helped me sit up, placing pillows behind my back as I took a sip of the warm porridge. The coffee, creamy and sweet, hit the spot just right.

"Feeling better?" you asked, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"A lot better, thanks to you," I mumbled, stealing a glance at you. The concern in your eyes morphed into something softer, making my cheeks flush again.

"Don't worry about practice today," you reassured me. "We already informed the others you're taking a break." Relief washed over me. The thought of facing the dance studio right now was daunting.

"So, what do you want to do today?" you asked, your voice gentle. I thought for a moment. The idea of staying cooped up in the dorm room wasn't appealing.

"Maybe we could take a walk in the park?" I suggested. "Just the two of us, away from everything".

Your smile widened, genuine and bright. "Sounds like a perfect plan, Winter."

The park was a welcome change of scenery. The crisp autumn air invigorated my senses, and the vibrant foliage painted the landscape in hues of gold and crimson. Walking hand-in-hand with you, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to melt away.

We talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and dreams, laughing at silly jokes. You even indulged my sudden craving for street tteokbokki, the spicy rice cakes adding a delicious warmth to the cool air.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows on the park's path, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small lake. The tranquility of the scene mirrored the newfound peace within me.

"Thank you, Y/n," I said, leaning against your shoulder.

"For what?" you asked, your voice soft.

"For everything," I replied, my voice thick with emotion. "For being there when I needed you most, for believing in me, for being my rock."

You turned to face me, your gaze filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Winter," you murmured, your voice husky, "you are strong, talented, and beautiful. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise."

And then, before I could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both soft and passionate. It was a kiss filled with the unspoken words of our affection, a promise of a love that transcended the boundaries of fan and manager, idol and boyfriend.

As we pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I knew that no matter what challenges awaited me, I wouldn't face them alone. I had you by my side, my confidant, my best friend, and most importantly, my love.

The End

[lavenderstobins]

It's the third day in a row that Wayne Munson has seen the girl in the diner.

Usually, he doesn't pay attention to new faces. He's been frequenting the diner for some years now and there's often ones he doesn't recognise: people passing through Hawkins, visiting family, etc.

The girl has caught his attention, though. She's sitting tucked into the far corner of the diner, a glass of water in front of her and nothing else. She's wearing the same t-shirt and flannel shirt she'd been wearing yesterday, and the day before, he's pretty sure. She didn't order any food yesterday; she hasn't ordered any food today.

Bev likes to joke he has a sense for kids who need help. Says there's an alarm in his head that makes him worry himself sick whenever there's a waif in need.

She's sitting next to him now, one eyebrow raised. He sighs. Waif in need alarm, indeed.

"What's the deal with the kid?" he murmurs, nodding subtly in the girl's direction.

Bev shrugs. "Beats me. That's Robert's girl, that's all I know."

He frowns. "Robert?"

"Nurse. Took good care of me when my knee went bad." She takes a swig of coffee, her eyes going sad. "Died, oh, maybe eight months back."

Wayne looks back at the girl. She's staring down at her half-empty glass of water. Tucked under the table there's a bulky-looking backpack.

"She got family?"

"Just her mother, far as I know. Met her a couple of times, too. 'Nother nurse. Seems nice enough."

"Hmph." Wayne turns back to his coffee. Ain't his business, he tells himself firmly. He should focus on his lunch.

When he gets up to pay, he glances once more in the girl's direction. He'll give it a couple of days, he decides. If she's still here then, still in the same clothes, he'll see if she's alright.

—

Wayne doesn't even last the day.

He's on his way home from work when he sees movement in a phonebox on the side of the road. The road's empty aside from him, and it's raining, and the sky's getting dark, so it immediately strikes him as odd. When he sees it's the teenage girl from earlier, he nearly crashes his truck with how hard he hits the brakes.

She's huddled down in the phonebox, clasping the backpack he'd noticed. She looks sodden. It had been raining heavier earlier; from the looks of it, she'd been caught in it. Her hair's plastered to her face and she's shivering.

He's winding down his window before his brain's even caught up to the movement. He's actually not sure how to go about it, very conscious of the fact that it's just the two of them out here and she's a teenage girl while he's an old man.

Feeling very much like he's approaching a wild animal, he clears his throat. "You okay, miss?"

The girl jumps, her head jerking up. She looks at him with wild eyes, wide and afraid. She reminds him of Eddie the day he showed up on his doorstep, timid and small.

"I'm f—fine." Her teeth chatter as she speaks. Where is this girl's mother? Where are her guardians?

"You need to call someone? I got a couple o'quarters, I think."

She shakes her head. Wayne frowns. Something ain't sitting right with him.

"You waiting on your ma?"

To his horror, her face crumples, and she buries her face in her arms. He's out of the truck like a shot, rushing over to find her shoulders heaving.

"Now, now—" He's panicking, admittedly. She can't be much younger than Eddie is.

"She—She—" the girl sobs. "She kicked me out and I—I don't have anywhere to go and it's so cold and wet and—and—"

A bout of rage washes over him. He pushes it down, tugging his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. It doesn't have a hood, but it's dry. Christ, she must be soaked to the bone.

"Listen," Wayne starts, hesitating almost immediately. It's an insane suggestion from a strange man; he doesn't want to scare her off, but he doesn't want her spending the night in this phonebox, either. "I got a kid about your age. My Eddie. You come to mine and we can get you sorted out, okay? Or—Or I can find you a motel room, or something."

Sniffling, the girl looks up at him, wrapping herself up in his jacket. "Is that... is that okay?"

His heart breaks. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course."

She stands, wobbly, still clutching her backpack. She's soaked through like he'd thought, and she shivers once she's in the front seat. He's quick to turn the heating up, starting the truck again, and for a moment he's furious: her immediate agreement, the lack of hesitation about getting into a vehicle with a strange man, makes him boil with hatred towards this girl's mother.

The journey's quiet and, thankfully, not too long. Wayne ushers her into the trailer, already preparing to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Eddie's out at Jeff's for band practice, so he says, but Wayne knows him well enough to know he'll come home stinking of weed.

The girl stands awkwardly in the living room, still shivering. It occurs to him, suddenly, that he doesn't even know her name.

Still. An issue for later. He focuses on the hot chocolate. Once it's ready, he hands it over to her, and doesn't miss how eagerly she accepts it.

Only then does he broach the subject. "What's your name, miss?"

She's quiet a moment, cradling the mug in her hands. "It's Robin. Uh, Robin, sir."

"None of that 'sir' business," he says gruffly. "Name's Wayne. Eddie'll be home later but you can have his bed if you need a place to stay for the night."

This might be the most he's spoken in years, trying desperately to come across as reassuring. It breaks his heart how trusting she's being, though.

"Thank you." Robin goes quiet, her fingers curling around the handle of the mug. "I, um, I can pay you back for the ride—"

He waves a hand, frowning. "None of that. I'd like to think if it were my Ed in your shoes, someone would be there for him like this."

She manages a small smile. She's still in her soaking clothes. He hustles over to Eddie's room, raiding the drawers for whatever looks most comfortable. Eddie won't complain, he knows.

Robin gratefully accepts the clothes. He goes back into Eddie's room to give her privacy, unsure exactly how long to wait. There's that stereotype that women take forever to change, right? It must hold some truth.

He gives it an hour, just to be safe. When he emerges, he finds that she's curled up on the couch, out like a light. His jacket's pulled up to her chin like a blanket.

Waif in need alarm. He sighs. Bev's right after all. He won't be surprised if this situation resolves with him having another kid in his care.

Well, Eddie always wanted a sister, anyway.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: a near-death experience hadn't been enough to deter you from getting to the bottom of things. one of those things had been, holy shit, Maddie!? and there had been questions, and Ajay and Wally hadn't known what not to say, but who'd cared because, "Oh my god, Maddie, I can see you!"

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.23

With great reluctance, Wally separated from you, his heart still lodged in his throat from what had almost unfolded. He scanned you up and down to ensure you were in one piece before he turned and walked toward Maddie. She looked distressed, wracked with guilt, her eyes watery and her mouth severely anchored at the corners.

She gazed up at Wally, utterly distraught, and sniffled, "I didn't...I didn't mean to. She can see everyone else, I just wanted..." Her shoulders shook with the effort it seemed to take not to break down right then and there, "Tell her I'm sorry, please, Wally, tell her I didn't mean it."

Wally wanted to fold Maddie into a bear hug like the ones his grandma used to give him; to give her the solace she seemed desperately to need, but first, he had to understand why you'd asked him to touch her shoulder. It'd taken him a second to figure out that that's what you meant, that something had happened when he'd tried to pull Maddie back before she'd collided with you in her effort to get your attention, but once he'd realized, he couldn't suppress the hope that blossomed within him.

With a sympathetic look, "I know," he told Maddie in a quiet voice, "it was an accident." She nodded miserably, body curling away from Wally even as he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. He turned to look at you, and asked, "Like this?" before stepping aside to see if anything had changed.

Indeed, something had shifted, Maddie becoming just that little bit more solid under his hand. He'd never noticed how she'd been slightly apart from himself and the others, a faint breadth less tangible, until it was made abundantly clear when you gasped and bolted forward, gathering Maddie against you in a wholesome embrace.

Wanting to give you and Maddie a moment, Wally removed his hand and, instantly, you were left holding nothing, arms collapsing against yourself and your body slouching sideways, out of Maddie's hold.

"Do it again!" You implored Wally, clutching his wrist and yanking him back into place. The connection flushed under the skin beneath your palm, white-hot through his veins, and it took everything in him not to pin you to him and kiss you deeply; to stake his claim in front of the others. You must've felt similarly because your next instruction was forced out, breathy, "And don't let go of her."

He did as told, placed his hand back on Maddie's shoulder, and felt her become a sturdier presence once more. Wow, Wally gaped, acutely aware of how in the dark Rhonda and Charley must feel, probably unable to tell the difference between Maddie before and after. You bundled Maddie into another hug, Wally's hand forced to fall to her shoulder blade, his other hand unconsciously moving to rest on your hip.

"I'm so sorry," Maddie apologized in a quick current of words, "I swear, I didn't mean to make you fall! I would never hurt you."

"I know, it's okay," You squeezed her tighter, "Oh my god, Maddie, I can't believe I can see you!"

"And...touch her, apparently..." Charley commented, making a close circle around you, Wally, and Maddie in examination. "How can you do that? Living people can't touch us."

"Yeah, we usually repel them like a bad smell," Rhonda added, voice marginally less spiky than before, "But Wally grabbed you like it was nothing."

The interrogation concluded with Charley asking, "And why couldn't you see Maddie until Wally touched her?"

That's when it clicked, "You have to invite her in..." Wally muttered, remembering the conversation you and he had had about the intricacies of In Betweens. At once, everyone's eyes slashed to Wally and he gulped, sweat gathering at his brow as it dawned on him that he'd spoken his thought aloud.

Thankfully, you dove in to save him, cutting to Ajay and giving him a pointed look. "You told Wally about In Betweens, huh? I asked you not to do that."

Ajay nodded, lips pressed into a line, "He's my bro," he shrugged stiffly, taking monumental strides to keep up with the lie as it developed. "I told him everything you told me about In Betweens, which are things I know about because you and I talk about them. In Betweens. C r a z y."

Rhonda rounded on him, a whiplash scowl that Wally was eternally grateful not to be on the receiving end of, even though he was the one who deserved it. "And you decided not to share with the rest of the class because...?"

"I told him not to and he probably made Wally swear to keep it a secret, too," You interjected. "Look, my family has a very strict rule against speaking to the dead. If anyone finds out I've been talking to Ajay—" Wally "—and now you guys? I'm fucked. My mom or my great-aunt will step in and I don't exactly know what'll happen, but it won't be good for me or you."

Charley seemed to contemplate your warning, fiddling with the cuffs of his jean jacket, then supplied, "We already decided it's better if we don't tell anyone about Simon." He gave Rhonda and Wally a curt nod which they both reciprocated. Wally didn't know what else to do but play along and consent to something he'd been doing since yesterday. "I think we can all agree to keep this between us, too."

"Yeah. You and Ajay aren't the only ones who can keep a secret." Rhonda commented, every letter dripping with condescension. She barreled ahead like a battering ram and imposed, "You wanna tell us why you couldn't see Maddie until Romeo over there got his mitts on her?"

"And what's an In Between?" Charley included, though he wasn't looking at you. Instead, he eyeballed where Wally's hand rested on your hip, his gaze flicking between there and Wally's face.

Wally did his best to avoid Charley's intense scrutiny, looking everywhere but at him and, oh, the moon was bright; was that garland of stars Orion just above the trees over there? Yeesh, someone should've cleaned up the littering of cigarette butts in the corner... Nothing to see here. Totally normal. Innocent whistle. Moving right along.

Or not.

"Actually, if you wanna start with whatever this is," Charley flapped his hand at you, Wally, and Maddie, though it was very clear what he meant to encapsulate with the gesture, "that'd be nice."

Wally barely held back the whimper of dread that tried to squeak out of him, his grip tightening on your hip.

"That would be nice," Ajay agreed, "I've always wanted to know. Especially after the hoops I had to jump through trying to keep you two apart."

Your face scrunched up adorably in confusion, "Hoops?" Ajay's eye twitched just before Rhonda and Charley served their attention to him. "Hoops!" You rectified. "So many hoops. All those things you did to keep me outta trouble when this weird, mysterious connection tried to derail my life..."

"Okaaay," Charley surveyed you with a trickle of doubt in his tone.

To your credit, you didn't let Charley deter you as you proceeded, "I've never felt it this strongly before. It's like a pull that I can't resist."

"Same," Wally wheezed, "It's like I have to be near her or I'll explode." He used his excuse to his advantage—at least he wasn't lying—and dragged you into his side, wrapping his arm more securely around your waist, all while maintaining contact with Maddie's back.

Rhonda arched a brow, "Explode, huh? Kinky." Wally opened his mouth to protest, but she continued, "Is that why he spent months following you around like a puppy a couple of years ago? I've seen him moon over plenty of little crushes on the living, but that was a lot, even for him."

"Thanks. Rhonda. Really." Wally glared, eyes darkening at her further when a surprised laugh bubbled out of Maddie. You shifted to look up at him, a sweet, playful smile on your lips that Wally wanted to feel on his skin.

"I remember that," You said, quiet, private, just for him, although you had to be aware the others were listening. "I'm sorry I... If I'd thought I could get away with it, I would've said something back then," You confessed and Wally's pulse quickened. You panned back to the others, offering each a significant look, including Maddie whose hand you scooped into your own, "I'm sorry I never reached out and tried to help you, but I'm here now and I will do everything I can to make it up to you."

Finally, Rhonda appeared to soften—not by much, but by enough that Wally felt himself relax for the first time since stepping foot on the roof. Her shoulders sank away from her ears, stance loosened marginally, and she nodded in acknowledgment of your apology.

"Alright, strawberry pie," Rhonda invited, "does this magical connection between you and lover boy have anything to do with why you couldn't see Maddie?"

Wally sensed your relief as if it were his own, your body melting into his side. You and he were off the hook, even if he did suspect he'd be questioned about the connection later. He could already hear Rhonda and Charley (even Maddie) grilling him for information: Why didn't you say anything? Did you always feel it? What does it mean?

"Honestly?" You began, "I don't know how the two are connected but I think they have to be. Not that the connection is responsible for why I can't see Maddie but why I can if Wally touches her. The only logical thing I can come up with is that the connection Wally and I have is actually some kind of manifestation of a soul-tie and that's why he can invite Maddie into my, uh, okay, so the thing about In Betweens—"

"Which is a thing I know about." Ajay inserted.

"—is that they're really...hard...to explain..." You rubbed your temples, obviously trying to gather your thoughts. Wally began to stroke his thumb over your sweater to encourage you to continue. Sinking into him further, you appeared to center yourself, flashing him a small, grateful smile before launching into the same spiel you'd given Wally. As you spoke, Wally pondered the complexities of In Betweens. Now that he thought about it, the fact that you and he shared a soul-tie that transcended life and death and time totally explained parts of why the connection existed in the first place.

He didn't know how or why whatever higher power had decided you two were meant to be whatever you were meant to be, but he felt all the more compelled to preserve the connection. The amount of devotion he'd developed toward you in under twenty-four hours was proof enough that you were or had been or were going to be someone profoundly important to him and he didn't want to lose that. Didn't want to lose you. A feeling he could only convey by pulling you as close to him as possible.

Charley, Rhonda, and Maddie (with Ajay forcefully maintaining an air of previously informed) listened to you, rapt, absorbing the information silently until you finished. Your brief lecture ended with a comment about Maddie and Simon's ineffable bond, that one of them likely had latent abilities similar to yours that allowed them to reach through the veil and communicate with the other.

"Right," Ajay seemed comfortable enough to drop the charade and ask genuinely, "But if Maddie's dead, why is she In Between and we're not? What makes her so unique?"

Wally felt you go rigid beneath his touch and he pressed himself into you, his front a hard, reinforcing line at your back. He observed the others slowly coming to the same conclusion as you struggled to say what needed to be said. To relieve you of the burden, Wally uttered, "She's not dead...is she?" sliding his hand up Maddie's back to hold her shoulder. A friendly, supportive touch that she seemed to appreciate when his statement sunk in.

She gaped at you, "Is it true?"

With a weak smile, you said, "Yeah. At least, it's the only thing that makes sense. Mads, I can see dead people, but I couldn't see you until Wally invited you into my circle. You can't be dead."

"You're sure it's not a fluke?" Maddie asked as tears sprang to her eyes.

"No," You shook your head, "Like I told Wa—Ajay, this shit," A swiping motion in front of your face, "Doesn't get glitchy. I've seen people leave. their. bodies. If you were dead, you and I would've been having a lot of conversations a lot sooner."

The instant you mentioned having witnessed death firsthand, Maddie's face crumpled in anguish. "You mean Ai—"

Rhonda interrupted, "Even though you're not supposed to talk to ghosts?" her snide remark disguised behind a question.

You didn't back down. Gripped Maddie's hand and brought it to your chest, swearing in no uncertain terms, "She's my friend, I would've risked everything to help her," your features fixed in resolution.

And then, just like that—

"Ack!" Wally sprung back, shaking his hand after a jolt of what felt like electricity pricked his palm. The palm of the hand that had been on Maddie's shoulder.

At the same moment, you released her, shifting away, cradling your hand as if you'd also been shocked, staring in disbelief at your hand, then back at Maddie, then back to your hand. It took several beats before either you or Wally realized you could still see her without Wally's intervention, but when it clicked, you darted forward and embraced her all over again. Maddie sniffed into your shoulder, whispering something Wally couldn't hear though it sounded like she was coming to terms with still being alive.

"Are you guys okay?" Charley wondered. He glanced between you, Maddie, and Wally, shifting closer, one arm out in front of Rhonda in an action that reminded Wally of his mama when he'd been in the passenger seat of the car and she'd hit the brakes too hard. Protective in a situation Charley didn't understand the makeup of. "What's going on?"

"The universe just needed to hear me say it," You grinned, parting from Maddie to explain to the others and Wally, "We can Travel the same stream now," and, damn, you were cute when you were excited, eyes alight and cheeks dimpled.

It took tremendous effort not to throw you over his shoulder and carry you away to somewhere you and he could be alone. Wally grinned back when you looked at him. And then his eyes widened in surprise as you decided for him that his effort wasn't necessary and jumped into his arms. He caught you easily, one hand shamelessly on your ass while the other spread wide at the middle of your back.

"Thank you!" You said, face tucked into his throat, and hugged him tightly. "It wouldn't have happened without you." Leaning back slightly, you smiled, as bright and beautiful as springtime, and Wally had to worry that his limbs were about to turn to Jell-O.

"Yeah," He replied, "Anything for you, pretty girl."

From behind Charley, Rhonda announced her disproval to the open display of affection, "Blech," and then shared, "Great, so cherry pop is alive," Wally detected a bitter note beneath the pragmatic tone she used, "Now what? Do you escort her out of here and back to her body?"

"I wish it was that easy." You admitted, brows furrowing. Wally placed you gently back on your feet with a kiss to your hair, no longer concerned that the others would find it suspicious now that you and he had established you were both under the influence of a mysterious connection. He hooked an arm around your collar, placing himself at your back as you reported, "But, according to...Ajay... something is keeping you guys stuck here. The fact that you supposedly can't leave school grounds isn't normal. As ghosts, you should have a lot more agency than that, like, way more than the living."

"And the plot thickens..." Rhonda muttered, the muscles in her jaw ticking as she ground her molars.

Charley and Maddie wore identical expressions of alarm. Recovering quicker, Maddie asked, "You're saying that someone is trapping ghosts here on purpose?"

"Seems that way, yeah."

"What about Mr. Anderson?" Wally could see the gears turning in Maddie's head, "Could he have done this somehow?"

"He wasn't around until ten years ago," Wally answered her, repeating what you'd said that morning, "He might've just taken advantage of the situation."

You nodded to confirm, "Simon and I definitely think he's got something to do with how Maddie was forced out of her body in the first place." Looking at Maddie, you said, "Simon told me about the phone call he overheard and the money in the supply closet. I'd hoped he'd be able to get something out of Anderson's phone but—"

"He stole Mr. Anderson's phone?" Maddie gawped, "Is that why the cops took him?"

"Possibly," You replied, "And now they're not even looking at Anderson because they think Simon had something to do with your disappearance."

Maddie's temper flared, "But he didn't!"

"I know that and you know that, which is why I'm here. We have to find something that'll make the cops take Anderson in."

"We should try the theater," Wally suggested, recalling how freaked Anderson seemed when he'd found you. "He went nuts on a student in there last night."

Rhonda studied Wally briefly before asking, "Is that where you went after supper?"

"Yeah," Wally cleared his throat, "Just wanted to zen out for a bit, but a freshman came in looking for something in the seats," Oh hell yes, he could do this! He stuck close enough to the truth that he could fill in details if anyone tried to poke holes in his defense, probably more proud of himself than he should be for fabricating a decent lie. "Mr. A found them and lost his shit. There's probably something in there he doesn't want anyone to find."

Rhonda gave Wally a look of sardonic glee, "See, doesn't it feel better to act normal instead of pretending you're an idiot?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Wally grumbled while Charley unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh behind his fist.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Wally huffed, "Don't ask. Rhonda is a lying liar who lies."

Rhonda snorted, demeanor adjusting to something Wally hadn't expected from her. Casual, borderline friendly—well, less standoffish which was as friendly as Rhonda got toward newcomers. "I'll tell you about it sometime," She offered you, a rare olive branch in the shape and weight of Group gossip. Then she brought everyone's attention back to more pressing matters, "Okay, so we check out the theater, right?"

Staring at Wally carefully, Maddie fished something out of her pocket and held it up for everyone to see, explaining, "Simon told me about something that went down in the theater last night." Wally's stomach clenched. Busted. "I tried talking to Mina. She wasn't exactly a fountain of information, but I found this on the floor. I was hoping to ask her about it..."

You reached for what Wally identified as the Split River High Devils patch Maddie had shown him, Rhonda, and Charley just before Ajay had retrieved them. Maddie handed it over and you inspected it, chuckling, "Wow. I didn't think these were still around."

"You know what it is?" Maddie asked, "Because I didn't until tonight."

"Rora was a Blue Devil," Ajay said as if lost in thought, staring at the patch. "She played tuba."

"Which is something I told you because we talk. About things. Like my sister." You blurted to cover Ajay's mild fuckup. "Yeah, she was in the band. She still has her uniform and everything."

Maddie mumbled, "I keep forgetting she's, like, twenty years older than you."

"Seventeen," You corrected, and then, "She could've easily ended up being one of the bus crash kids, but she was sick that day. I wasn't even born, so I don't know much, but the way Rory tells it she got food poisoning from the cafeteria lunch the day before. Best worst day of her life."

"Jesus Christ," It fell out of Wally's mouth before he could stop it, stunned that your sister had almost wound up a ghost like the rest of them. Would she have been a looper, too? Or would she have been the only one of the bunch to snap out of it? Fuck, it wasn't worth thinking about, Wally reprimanded himself, his arm sliding down to band around you, his hand unconsciously slipping under your sweater to rest, skin-to-skin, on your waist.

"I know," You mused, solemn, "If she hadn't eaten the fish sticks, she'd be dead."

"This was on the floor in the theater and I think there's something to it." Maddie said, "I don't know if Mr. Anderson is involved or not, but Mina must know something and we need to find out what. It could be what we need to help Simon."

Everyone gave their assent, ready and willing to help, as you offered, "Tell me what to do, Mads, and I'll do it."

Filled with determination, Maddie said, "We need to find some flowers."

"Butter Mina up a bit, huh?" You grinned conspiratorially, "Alright, I'm on it. I can get something together in the morning and bring them to school with me."

"Can you come early?"

"Not gonna lie, I already intended to. Zav agreed to pick me up at dawn so we could sniff around." The face Maddie made when you mentioned Xavier was cold and angry. Wally wasn't sure what you knew and what you didn't, but he remained certain of the fact that you had no idea Xavier had been cheating on Maddie with that cheerleader. "We're all on Simon's side," You assured Maddie, "Even if he and Zav didn't get along before, Zav wants to help."

Maddie cut the conversation there, "Yeah, I'm sure he does," forcing a smile.

"Great, now that that's settled," Rhonda began in an uncharacteristically helpful redirect. Whatever moment she and Maddie had shared during Field Day seemed to have established a fledgling bond between them, Rhonda actively changing the subject so Maddie didn't have to. "How about we go back to why Goldilocks can't get back into her body because we're trapped?"

As you were about to answer, Wally glanced at Ajay and saw him steeling himself for what he was about to expose, "Uhm, about that. There's something I want you guys to see."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Ajay was ahead of you; Rhonda, Charley, and Maddie brought up the rear, leaving you and Wally to walk together in the middle.

"I thought I was going to have a heart attack," He admitted, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pressing a tender kiss into your hair. Butterflies erupted in your belly, the casual affection he'd been doting on you during and since the rooftop making you swoon, pleasantly dizzy from it. "I think Maddie figured out that I wasn't alone in the theater last night."

"If she did, she won't say anything," You promised, cheeks pinking as you regarded him. Wally looked particularly handsome in the moonlight, his features striking. Your pulse quickened as you soaked him in, those sweet-sultry eyes blinking at you when he panned his head to grin down at you. "She's loyal like that," You finished, tongue suddenly sticking to the roof of your mouth.

Ajay stopped a few meters in front of a tree you recognized as one of several that students carved their initials into. It was unspectacular, normal; bushy leaves in autumn colors, and twisty with knots and thick roots. The others caught up eventually, Charley marching a couple more steps ahead of Ajay before Ajay caught him by the back of his jacket.

"Don't want you to end up back in the cafeteria," Ajay said, pulling Charley back to a safe distance.

So, this was the almighty barrier Wally had mentioned. At least, a section of it. You produced your phone from the pocket of your sweater, turned on the flashlight, and carefully neared the tree. With great mindfulness, you picked your way around the bottom of the tree, still managed to stumble and trip here and there where the roots were difficult to see. Nothing stood out to you; some hearts, some graduating years, even a few profanities and one clumsy dick with a crudely marked phone number beneath it. Ordinary stuff that most high schoolers thought was hilarious or edgy.

Returning to the starting point, you placed your hand on the truck, the bark ridges rough under your palm. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breath, deep and even inhales and exhales as you attempted to connect to whatever magic might be hidden within the tree's heartwood. You'd never tried to feel out another person's magic before. You'd never truly referred to it as magic before, either, so this was a night of firsts in many ways. You could sense the spectral weave of the ghosts behind you, the vibration of their buoyant, antigravitational energy. You felt something else ahead of you, barely a hum, as if caged within a lead box—blurry and distant and altogether difficult to pinpoint. In tandem phantom and human.

Then, quite suddenly, a piercing thrust of malicious, vantablack magic made itself known, shoving into you through your palm and sending you stumbling back over the raised roots. Your heel caught and you landed hard, phone falling face-down in the dirt.

"Are you okay?!" Charley called, arms braced against Wally who'd clearly tried to dash forward to your rescue, likely forgetting that he'd be transported back to the football field.

"Babe!?"

You raised a thumbs up and took a moment to let the adrenaline settle. "Fine," You assured, "Probably gonna bruise nasty, but nothing I can't handle." You heaved yourself into a sitting position, eyes scanning up the tree, following the cone of light from your phone to just above the faintest part of its reach. Frowning, you rolled yourself forward onto hands and knees, grabbed your phone and held it up to bring more light to a specific portion of the tree.

"No. Fucking. Way." You gawked.

"What is it?" Rhonda wanted to know, staring at you with a hard expression before glancing between the others. They all shared her question, each taking tiny, measured steps forward.

"It's...it looks like a ritual mark." You told them because, above all the depravity and memory-making, a strange symbol was etched into the bark, the cambium beneath blackened with age. A vertical line that bisected an unsymmetrical diamond with an X slashed through it. You took a picture of it, examined it on your phone as you rejoined the others. The symbol was as familiar as it wasn't; something in its nature niggled at the back of your mind.

In the years before everything had gone to shit, Ginny had spent countless afternoons delighting you with lessons on the craft. She'd taught you about the flora and fauna that harbored ancient energy; what talismans actually benefited the wearer and what were cheap, souvenir shop gimmicks. You'd enjoyed two whole days listening to her lilt the runic alphabet—fehu, uruz, thurisaz, and so on.

The symbol in the tree appeared to be a personal representation of a ritual rune, unlike any you'd seen before; its design unique to the individual and whatever purpose they'd needed it to serve.

"The barrier feels weakest here," Ajay said, "I'd hoped you could find a way to break it."

You hummed in acknowledgment, completely transfixed as you continued to search your memory for the runes Ginny had shown you. "Yeah..." And then, when you'd processed what Ajay had said, "No. Even though it feels weaker, it isn't. The energy is just stretched outward."

"What does the mark mean?" Wally asked, arm already outstretched for you to tuck yourself under. An invitation your body instinctively accepted before your brain caught up to how you'd slid into Wally's space like you were meant to be there.

You lifted your phone to show him the screen, "It looks like someone just hacked random runes together to make their own, but..." Skirting your attention to Ajay, "I bet there are other places around the school where the barrier feels different, too?"

"Four others." Ajay nodded.

"About equidistant apart?"

"That sounds about right, yeah."

Maddie ventured closer, "What does it mean?"

A shiver ran down your spine as you shifted your gaze back to the tree, the weight of the truth looming in the deep, eerie blackness behind it. "It means this was planned."

At that precise moment, a twig snapped in the shadows. Wally repositioned himself, shoving you behind him so he could put himself between you and whatever was out there. The others were on-guard around you as well, the circle they'd stood in shrinking as a figure appeared from out of the darkness. You held your breath, heart racing, and took an instinctive step back. Wally's form blocked you from seeing who it was, but your gut screamed at you to run run run, get out, leave, run, that sense of phantom-human energy shuddering through your veins.

You were ready to submit to the feeling only for, "There you are!" a familiar voice to split through the night, god dammit, seriously?!

"Who the hell is that?" Charley inquired to the group at large.

Quickly, you shoved your phone back into your pocket, moving around Wally in as natural a manner as possible to call out, "Jesus, Dave, you nearly gave me an aneurism!"

Dave emerged from the shadows, blond hair and bright white teeth catching the distant lamplight. He wore an expression of concern, eyes boring into yours, steps measured and steady as he treaded over the raised roots and pitted dirt toward you. Despite predicting what was about to happen, you weren't ready to have Dave haul you into a friends-and-family hug, his arms pinning your elbows to your sides and wringing you hard enough to expel the air from your lungs.

"Aurora sent me out to look for you," He told you, his tone grating against your ear. "I've been driving around for an hour!"

"Well, here I am," You coughed with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. Which wasn't much considering how pissed you were that Dave of all people had been the one sent to perform a search and rescue. And, of course, that your progress with the barrier had been interrupted. Mostly that.

You wriggled out of his embrace, putting some necessary distance between you and him as he motioned to usher you to his car, "I parked down the street. Come on, let's get you home."

"I'm fine, Dave." You said, really, really fighting not to sound as unpleasant as Aurora nagged that you always did when speaking to him. You wanted to argue, to stay and have Ajay show you the other points where the barrier's intensity was altered, however, Dave seemed insistent on returning you to the house. Covertly, you glanced at Wally, wordlessly asking for his input.

"It's okay, baby, we can show you the rest tomorrow morning." He said and the others followed, murmuring their reassurance at separate intervals. All but Rhonda who peered intently into the darkness where Dave had materialized.

"We've totally got this," She added belatedly, distant, distracted, but you took it for the endorsement of your surrender that it was and resigned yourself to trailing Dave to his car.

A scant step or two from the school property line, you heard footsteps behind you. Dave was far enough ahead, nattering on about whatever Aurora or your mother or Nanna had said about you sneaking out at midnight on a Thursday, that you risked turning to see who it was.

Wally jogged up to you, all cheeky smirk and boyish charm, and grabbed you by the arm, abruptly drawing you flush against him and, in a flash, delivering a deep, heated kiss to your lips. His large hand cradled your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek, as he teased your bottom lip with his teeth. A streak of want burned through you, coiling in your belly. A whimper escaped you that Wally swallowed greedily and you could feel the shape of his smirk against your mouth.

As soon as it had begun, it was over. A one-and-done moment. So fast that by the time Dave noticed you weren't at his back, Wally had already detached from you, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. "Been wanting to do that all day," He chuckled, licking his lips as if to savor the taste you'd left behind.

You hated him just a little bit because you couldn't say anything back. Couldn't tease him or tell him how much you wanted more; couldn't yank him into another searing kiss and have him lay you down in the grass; couldn't do anything except—

"Let's go, champ!" Dave called with his patented Real Estate smile, jingling his keys to signal for you to come. Like a dog. Your faced pinched in bitterness, an expression Wally seemed to find endearing because he chuckled and shook his head fondly.

"Better go, baby, or he might try to hug you again."

"Oh my god, I hate him so much." You grumbled under your breath and Wally all but cackled as he retreated toward the school, catching up with the others as they filed through the door.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

In the darkness, meters from the tree you'd been inspecting only minutes ago, a girl wearing your friend's face scowled down at a hand that didn't belong to her, biting her tongue as she pulled one of the loose fingernails from its bed.

Time was starting to run out.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-TWO - PART TWENTY-FOUR

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[strwbrryh00n]

Fading Harmony - P. Sunghoon

syp : you and sunghoon have been secretly dating for years now but as the groups popularity soars, the pressure of fame sunghoon’s demanding schedule takes a toll on the relationship.

warnings : none really, short story, not proof-read

genre : angst, breakup

___

the city lights in seoul twinkled like stars as you stood on the rooftop, the cool air swishing past your face making you inhale the city’s scent. you’ve been dreading and i mean dreading this conversation with your boyfriend, sunghoon.

the man who swore it would never come down to this. the man who kissed you and told you he would never leave you. the man who would be on your tail about why you took so long to respond to his messages at times. the man you would spend your life with. sunghoon.

as you were lost in your thoughts about your boyfriend the door to the rooftop creaked open, and sunghoon walked out, his eyes scanning the area until they locked into yours. your heart skipped a beat as he was walking towards you, his expression somber.

“hey,” he said softly, stopping infront of you as he plants a kiss on your forehead.

“hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

sunghoon took a deep breath before speaking, the city lights mapping out his handsome face. “i’ve been thinking…and i realized that with the fame of enhypen and the busy schedules i need to prioritize that right now and i’m sorry.”

“is that all i really am to you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “just something to prioritize or be pushed aside when things get busy?”

sunghoons eyes dropped, and he took a step back, as if he was retreating from the conversation. “that’s not fair” he said quietly. “you know how much you mean to me”

“then why are you doing this?” you demanded, feeling a surge of desperation. “why are you giving up on us”

sunghoon sighed, rubbing his temple trying to ward off a headache. “i’m not giving up on us, i just…i just need some space, okay? i need to focus on my music career, and i don’t know if i can do that with you by my side.”

the words cut deep into you like a knife, but you refused to give up. you took a step forward, reaching out to him. “sunghoon, please,” you say, voice cracking. “don’t do this. we can work through this together”

sunghoons eyes met yours and for a moment you saw a glimpse of hope. but then his expression hardened, and he shook his head. “i’m sorry.” he said, his voice forcefully firm. “i really am”

the words felt like a blow to your stomach, leaving you winded and gasping for air. you stumbled backwards feeling like you were drowning in a sea of despair.

as you turn to leave, sunghoon called out. “wait,” he said, his voice soft. “please don’t go like this”

you turn back to him, feeling a surge of anger and hurt. “what do you want from me, sunghoon? you’re breaking up my heart and you’re asking me to stay?”

sunghoon eyes dropped. “i just…don’t want to lose you.”

the words felt like a slap to your face. “you’re breaking up with me and you’re worried about losing me?” you repeated, feeling a surge of incredulity. “you’re the one who’s pushing me away, sunghoon.”

as you turn to walk away from sunghoon, feeling horrible, you felt a sharp pain go through your chest. grabbing it you continued to walk towards the door on the rooftop, tears fall down your cheek uncontrollably. you could hear a faint sniffle from sunghoon that just makes you want to run back and tell him you love him even when the choices got tough.

but as you walked, you felt a spark determination ignite within you. you will survive this break up, you will move in from this break up. and you would never forget the love you guys shared amongst each other, the love that had broken your heart into a million pieces.

more tears welled up in your eyes and as you procressed everything maybe, just maybe, you both could find a way back to each other in the future, someday.

but for now, you had to let him go.

[torialefay]

I love the way you write about Channie so here i come with a request!

Could you maybe write something, like a one shot idk, about how chan would propose to you?

I feel like it would be so perfect and im on my period so i really need a good romantic thing to cry on (maybe a bit smutty on the end cause…yk…👀👀👀)

🌊💍

Chris hid his hands behind his back as he realized they were a shaking mess. He was hoping you hadn't noticed... As if his voice hadn't been pitchy the entire night and he hadn't been acting totally bizzare for the past two weeks. To be honest, you weren't sure what was up with him, and you were slightly worried that it was because he'd regretted bringing you back home to Australia with him.

Considering the amazing (and very expensive) restaurant he'd just taken you to, you tried pushing those thoughts aside to just enjoy the relaxing evening with your boyfriend.

On the drive home, Chan had suggested taking a detour to have a walk on the beach.

"You're really pulling out all the stops tonight, aren't you baby?" you had teased, leaning in to peck him on the cheek as he kept his eyes on the road.

He'd let out a strained laugh followed up by suggesting a short drive to the first beach he'd taken you to when you'd come for your first visit. It was a place that had a lot of sentimental meaning to him as he used to come a lot with his family and friends.

You'd happily said yes, which led you to your current situation- trying to make small talk with your boyfriend who was a trembling, slightly sweaty mess.

"Babe, is everything okay?" you finally asked as your feet muddled through the water, one step at a time. The tides gently washed away each mark as you went.

"Of course... why?" he tried to cover up nonchalantly, but sounded more grand than he'd meant to.

"You just don't seem yourself... The past couple of weeks, you've seemed a bit... off," you looked away from him and out towards the sea, calming yourself a bit. "It's not because of me, is it? You're not regretting bringing me?"

"Oh god no, y/n, no," Chris said, scatter-brained now as he moved his body to stand right in front of you, forcing your eyes back on him. The crashing waves washed up against his legs, leaving the bottoms of his pants sopping wet.

"It's not that at all," he continued, reaching his hands for yours to hold you steady. "I just- jeez, I wanted to do this a different way," he nervously laughed at himself, looking off for a split second in his usual Channie embarrassment.

Your heart began to speed up at the sudden realization. Was he about to do what you thought he was about to do?

"But umm, here goes nothing," he bashfully smiled before clearing his throat and fixating his eyes back on you. "Y/n, every day I spend with you, I fall more and more in love." His ears turned the brightest shade of pink. "And I've known from the very moment I met you that you would be special, but I never realized-" his voice broke. You thought you could make out the tiniest glimmer of water in his eyes, which became more evident as his eyes and nose were slowly overcome with a slight red hue.

He shook his head slightly as if to shake it off while you felt tears start to well up in your own eyes. Your heart felt like it was swelling until it would bust.

"I never realized just how amazing life would be once you came into it. You truly make me a better man," his voice carried up, batting away tears. "And I, I just wanted you to know that I would move the heavens and earth for you. I am 100% certain that you are the love of my life," he sniffled, his eyes sparkling.

"Which is why-" he strained out, removing his hands from yours to reach into his pocket. He swiftly removed a small black box. "I have to ask you," he continued, slowly kneeling himself down onto one knee in front of you. The waves crashed behind him as they ran up along the shore, washing through his legs. His expression softened, admiring the way you looked in this moment with a single tear falling down your face.

"Y/full/name, will you make me the happiest man in the world and do me the honor of marrying me?"

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

edited to add: i'm so sorry anon for the lack of smut (and missing your period 😭), but maybe a pt 2? if you'd like?