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#i love the staff here seriously
kirishwima · 2 years
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man. ive got good coworkers 😭
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sparrowposting · 1 year
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Love being accused of being crazy and overreacting. Bc I am Once Again Sick, and yeah it fuckin sucks. And yes I AM upset that [redacted irresponsible family event which could have been avoided if the person in question nonna wasn't being selfish and actually admitted to being sick and cancelled weekend dinner but nooooooo that would be the end of the world and how dare people not get what they want 100% of the time] got me sick. And yes I AM concerned that I keep getting sick with increasing frequency and this only started after I had a "mild" covid case. Yes I AM upset that my legitimate concerns about long term effects to my immune system are being dismissed because, y'know, a thing that killed a fuckton of people, it's just "a common cold", and what would my family know only bro 2 and me caught it. And yes I AM upset they're on my ass as if being sick is some moral failing on my part, as if I'm not the only person in this house who takes public transit everyday so immune system issues aside OFC I'm the most likely to catch something. And yes I AM upset that this is from my mother who's THE obsessive neat freak control freak pseudo hypochondriac that I inherited /my/ hypochondria from.
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mortalityplays · 1 year
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the way people on here talk about the porn ban makes me completely fucking insane honestly.
yes I would love a return to the old ways.
no that isn't something staff have control over, it's a systemic issue with puritanical groups intentionally strangling online infrastructure to make adult content impossible to platform.
no that doesn't mean the ban was value neutral and I will fucking kill you with my mind if you start going on about how 'it just meant all the annoying people left'
sex workers left, and so did the high spending customers who made tumblr a viable platform for a lot of other small creators
a lot of sex educators and queer outreach groups also left, and nobody seems to remember that they were a huge part of the landscape here
you have to take the eradication of sexual content from online spaces seriously as an issue that affects more than whether you personally can post catgirl balls on one specific platform
there is no 'good social media' in 2023 that will ever be equipped to solve this problem until the financial/cultural issue is addressed. decentralisation is your best bet. sorry.
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blushinggoku · 6 months
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Recently I went into the DBS fandom wiki to read about the Goku Black/Future Trunks arc, because I haven't watched DBS past the Tournament of Power and the concept of Goku Black intrigued me so much. I'm so glad I didn't waste my time watching the episodes because Jesus
#dbs spoilers in the tags here don't read if you don't wanna know but:#it pisses me off so much that the writers wrote the climax of this arc into such a corner that they had to rely on some deus ex machina bs#like seriously? instead of the gang who's been fighting tooth and fucking NAIL this whole time coming out on top#they have to resort to summoning zeno to clean up their mess#like I get that fuzed zamasu is more powerful than anything they'd faced before but like. the guys almost always deal with that#its fine if the writers wanted to do something different for a change. but maaan not like this#also I Really need to talk about the characterization here for a sec#first off they made chichi such a bitch. like she gets mad at present goku#cause the goku from the future alt timeline or whatever got taken over by zamasu and became goku black and killed chichi and goten#and chichi's mad that goku didn't do his “fatherly duty” and protect goten like???? how COULD he#dude had his body swapped and was then killed by goky black wtf did you want him to DO?#also this is the infamous arc where goku says he doesn't know what a kiss is#you know. present goku. the goku who's been married 20 years with 2 kids.#also there's a scene where the gangs like “boy we really coulda used sone sensu beans right about now. hey goku I thought you had those?”#and goku goes “oops oh silly me! I forgot them here in the current timeline when I went to use the bathroom teehee!!” like DUDE??#I am tearing the DBS writing staff apart with my bare teeth and shaking them around like a chew toy#the only good thing to come out of this arc was the CONCEPT of goku black/evil goku cause that makesme feral#that and also near the end of the arc where goku is working security for mr satan at the world invention conference in West City.#goku with his hair geled back is so fucking CUTE. and he's wearing a suit too?? literally killing me. I am in love with this man#I wanna mess that geled hair up soo badly but also wanna trace my fingers along the hard strands as well. I am unhinged.#I did actually watch that clip of that scene on YouTube because I had to. literally the best thing out of the arc#but thats just the opinion of a crazy person who didn't actually watch the arc#btw I realize fandom wiki sucks ass but the summary about each episode in the entire arc was quite detailed#star scrambles
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theghostofashton · 1 year
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pucksandpower · 14 days
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So Good to Her
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the public reacts to the TikTok challenge you and Charles inadvertently participated in
Read So Good to Me (about the TikTok challenge) here
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The TikTok that the British influencer posted of his encounter with you and your incredibly generous boyfriend quickly goes viral, racking up millions of views, likes, and comments within mere hours.
It spreads like wildfire across social media platforms, with people sharing it on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook — even LinkedIn of all places. Everyone marvels at this mystery woman with the boyfriend of all boyfriends who casually sent her €10,000 just to buy a pair of shoes.
In a cozy London flat, a group of university students and diehard Charles fans gather around a laptop, eyes wide as they watch the now-viral video for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t believe Charles has a secret girlfriend!” Megan, a petite blonde wearing a red Ferrari cap, exclaims. “How did we not know about this? We follow his every move!”
Her best friend Ethan nods in agreement, his brow furrowed. “Seriously, who is this girl? She’s drop dead gorgeous and apparently Charles is just casually sending her 10 grand for shopping sprees?”
“Okay but like, goals though,” Lexi chimes in dreamily, clutching a Charles Leclerc poster to her chest. “Imagine having a boyfriend who’s not only mega hot and talented but also spoils you rotten. She’s living the dream.”
Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, he can’t just throw money around like that. I bet this whole thing was staged for clout.”
Megan shoots him a withering glare. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would be the point? Charles is already one of the most popular drivers on the grid, he doesn’t need to pull PR stunts for attention.”
“Plus did you see the way he talked to her on the phone?” Lexi points out, rewinding the video. “That was not acting, that was real love and affection in his voice. I’m so soft for them already, ugh.”
The trio falls silent as they watch the clip again, zeroing in on every little detail and facial expression from both Charles’ mystery girlfriend and the clearly shocked TikToker.
Ethan chuckles and shakes his head. “I still can’t get over her reaction though. Just a guy who loves driving fast cars — I mean, the cheek! She really knows how to keep a secret, gotta give her that.”
“An icon, honestly,” Megan declares. “The fact that she told him to donate the money to an animal shelter too ... okay, I can’t even be mad. She seems like a sweet person.”
Lexi sighs happily, starry-eyed. “They’re literally a power couple. The sheer confidence and BDE of it all. I’m so jealous but also like, rooting for them? We have to find out who this girl is!”
As if on cue, Megan’s phone pings with a Twitter notification. Her eyes widen as she swipes to view it. “Guys. GUYS. The TikToker just confirmed her first name is Y/N and posted another video with a few more details about her!”
“Well don’t just sit there, play it!” Ethan demands, practically launching himself across the couch to peer over Megan’s shoulder at her phone screen. Lexi scrambles to join them, bouncing with anticipation.
In the new clip, the TikToker is grinning excitedly at the camera, an extra bounce in his step as he walks along the same Monaco street where he first approached you.
“Right, so I’m sure by now you’ve all seen my video with Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend go absolutely mental viral,” he begins, running a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “Which, can I just say — thank you so much for the insane support and love, you lot are the best fans ever.”
“Get to the point,” Ethan mutters under his breath, earning a sharp “Shh!” from both girls.
“Anyway,” the TikToker continues. “After she left and I finally picked my jaw up off the floor, I did some digging. I headed to that little boutique she mentioned in the call with Charles, just to see if she actually went in and bought anything. Thought maybe if I asked the staff, they might be able to give me some more info, you know?”
Megan, Ethan, and Lexi all subconsciously lean closer to the small phone screen, hanging on to his every word.
“So get this — not only did she buy the shoes, she apparently also went next door and purchased, and I quote, a frankly alarming amount of lingerie. The cashier said she dropped over 5 grand like it was nothing!”
Lexi lets out a scandalized gasp as Ethan chokes on his sip of Red Bull. Megan just shakes her head in wonderment. “The actual legend,” she murmurs reverently.
The TikToker laughs and waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the camera. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m definitely sensing some spicy thank you for the shopping money activities were planned for a certain Ferrari driver, if you know what I mean. Get in there, Charles!”
“Gross, I so did not need that visual,” Ethan grumbles, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips all the same.
“Oh shut up, as if you wouldn’t do the exact same if you were dating Charles,” Lexi retorts with a playful shove to his shoulder.
“ANYWAY,” the TikToker presses on, “I did manage to squeeze a few more details out of the lovely shop girl. Apparently Charles’ girlfriend is named Y/N, no last name given for privacy reasons. But she’s a regular customer and, I quote, an absolute sweetheart who only ever has glowing things to say about her man. So there you have it, folks — Y/N and Charles are the real deal and we’re all just peasants watching a fairytale unfold.”
Megan sighs dreamily as the video ends. “Y/N and Charles,” she repeats to herself, already typing the names into her social media search bars. “God, even their names sound good together. I have to find out everything about her.”
“Dibs on making their ship name hashtag go viral,” Lexi calls out, already furiously typing away on her own phone.
Ethan snorts and rolls his eyes affectionately at his friends, but there’s no denying the small, reluctantly impressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth too. “I give it two days before they’re papped together on some glamorous date night now that the secret’s out. Hope she’s ready for the attention dating an F1 star brings.”
“With that level of confidence and the way Charles clearly adores her? I think our girl Y/N will handle the spotlight just fine,” Megan says confidently.
Lexi nods in firm agreement. “Yep, a true queen. Charles better lock that down and wife her up real quick before one of us tries to snatch her for ourselves!”
***
In a cozy apartment not far from the very street where you had your memorable encounter with the TikToker, three young women huddle around a laptop screen, eyes wide and jaws slack as they watch the now viral video for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t believe this,” mutters Isabelle, a pretty brunette with an impressively encyclopedic knowledge of Formula 1 stats. “Charles has a girlfriend? Since when?”
“And he just sent her €10,000 like it was nothing!” Exclaims Maia, nervously twirling a strand of her platinum blonde hair. “I mean, I know he’s loaded but holy shit, the way he spoils her ...”
The third girl, Claire, bites her lip, a pensive look on her delicate features. “Did you hear what she said at the end though? Just a guy who loves driving fast cars. She was obviously talking about Charles. But the way she said it, all mysterious and like it was some inside joke ... I don’t know, it just rubs me the wrong way.”
Isabelle scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please, she was totally gloating. Didn’t even have the decency to act a little humble about the fact that THE Charles Leclerc is apparently head over heels for her.”
“Exactly!” Maia chimes in, nodding vigorously. “Like okay, congrats, you bagged a hot, rich, famous race car driver. No need to rub it in the rest of our faces.”
Claire wrinkles her nose. “I just don’t get the vibe that she actually cares about him, you know? I mean, who asks their boyfriend to send them money in the middle of the day for some stupid shoes? While he’s working? She seems like such a gold digger.”
“Ugh, you’re so right,” Isabelle agrees, her lips curling in distaste. “Poor Charles is probably blind to it because he’s so gone for her. He didn’t even hesitate to transfer that money!”
Maia sighs dramatically and falls back on the bed. “God, it’s so unfair. Why can’t I find a man who’s that generous and totally obsessed with me? I’d treat him so much better than she does, you can already tell.”
Claire hums and taps her chin thoughtfully. “You know what, I think this smells fishy. How do we even know she’s actually Charles’ girlfriend? For all we know, she could have paid some guy who sounds like him to play along for a TikTok clout.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrow as she considers this possibility. “That’s true ... I haven’t come across any photos of them together or anything. Why has no one ever seen her before if they’re supposedly so in love?”
“Exactly!” Claire exclaims, growing more animated. “I’ve been a Charles fan for years and I’ve never seen or heard anything about a girlfriend. If they’re really dating, there’s no way it wouldn’t have come out before now.”
Maia sits up, suddenly energized by this new conspiracy theory. “Oh my god, you’re right! She’s probably just some wannabe influencer trying to get famous by pretending to be with Charles. That’s so pathetic.”
Isabelle nods slowly, a determined glint in her eye. “You know what? We should do some digging. Try to find out who this girl really is and expose her for the fraud she clearly is. Charles and the world deserve to know the truth.”
“Yesss, I’m so down for an investigation!” Maia says gleefully. “Imagine if we’re the ones who reveal that this whole thing is fake. We’d be doing Charles a huge favor.”
Claire is already pulling up Instagram and Twitter on her phone. “Let’s start by going through the comments on that TikTok and seeing if anyone has identified her or posted any receipts. There have to be some clues somewhere.”
The girls spend the next few hours poring over social media, searching for any scrap of information they can find about the mystery woman who has supposedly captured Charles Leclerc’s heart. They work themselves into a frenzy, convincing each other more and more that you can’t possibly be Charles’ real girlfriend. In their minds, you’re clearly just an opportunistic clout chaser looking for your 15 minutes of fame.
“God, I hope Charles sees through her act soon,” Isabelle says for the hundredth time, shaking her head. “He’s too good for some two-bit gold digger who’s just using him.”
“We’ll make sure he finds out who she really is,” Claire assures her firmly. “And then he’ll have no choice but to dump her lying ass.”
Maia sighs wistfully, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “Do you think once he’s single again, I might actually have a chance? Like, if I run into him at a race one day and strike up a conversation, maybe he’ll realize I’m the girl he’s meant to be with ...”
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Claire says with a laugh. “First step is taking down this fraud of a girlfriend. Then we can daydream about being Mrs. Leclerc.”
The girls giggle and go back to their social media sleuthing with renewed determination. They’ve decided you’re public enemy number one and they won’t rest until they’ve exposed you for the fake, money-hungry, clout-chasing liar they’re certain you must be. In their eyes, they’re crusaders for truth, fighting to save their beloved Charles from your clutches.
What they don’t realize, of course, is just how very real and very deep Charles’ feelings for you actually are ... and that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Internet conspiracy theories be damned.
***
In a dimly lit basement somewhere in Italy, a group of die-hard Charles Leclerc fans huddle around a computer screen, their jaws dropping as they watch the video for the umpteenth time.
“Guys, are you seeing this shit?” Enzo, the self-appointed leader of the group, asks incredulously. “Who the hell is this girl and how did she bag Charles freakin’ Leclerc?”
“Dude, we don’t even know for sure that it’s actually Charles,” Giovanni points out skeptically. “She never said his name. It could be some other rich dude with a fast car.”
Enzo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, who else could it be? €10,000 like it’s nothing, is it possible that Leclerc has a secret girlfriend we don’t know about all this time? A guy who likes driving fast cars? It’s obviously Charles! Our boy is LOADED and that’s exactly how he’d spoil his girl.”
Luca nods in agreement, a dreamy expression on his face. “God, can you imagine being with Charles though? Having him call you all those cute pet names and just showering you with love and gifts? I’d fucking die.”
“Yeah, she has to be the luckiest woman on the planet,” Enzo sighs wistfully. “I mean, I’m straight, but even I’d let Charles ruin me, you know what I’m saying?”
The other guys murmur and nod in emphatic agreement, all of them momentarily lost in a fantasy of being Charles Leclerc’s pampered significant other.
“Okay but like, how is this even fair?” Giovanni gripes, breaking the spell. “The rest of us mere mortals are out here busting our asses on Tinder and Hinge, praying a decent girl will swipe right, and Charles just gets to date a literal goddess who is probably a model?”
“Life isn’t fair, Gio,” Enzo says solemnly. “Charles is on a completely different level. He could have any woman he wants and they’d all say yes before he even finished asking. The rules don’t apply to a guy like that.”
Luca suddenly sits up straight, his eyes widening with realization. “Holy shit, guys. Do you know what this means? If Charles is taken, that’s one less F1 driver on the market for all those grid girl groupies to throw themselves at! Maybe the rest of us actually have a chance now!”
Giovanni snorts derisively. “Yeah, you wish. Those chicks are still gonna be busy trying to get with Sainz or Verstappen or Norris. They’re not gonna settle for some nobody Ferrari fan. Let’s be real.”
“Wow, way to kill the vibe, Debbie Downer,” Luca mutters. He turns back to the computer and hits replay on the video, watching enviously as the TikToker clearly shows the €10,000 bank transfer on your phone. “Seriously though, how is this chick not freaking the fuck out? If Charles Leclerc randomly sent me 10 grand I’d be screaming and probably pass out.”
“She’s probably used to it,” Enzo says with a shrug. “I bet this is like, a regular Tuesday for her. Just casually strolling around Monaco, stopping into designer stores whenever she feels like it, Charles’ black credit card weighing down her Hermès purse. The bougiest of WAG lives.”
“God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with her for just one day,” Giovanni says longingly. “Can you imagine getting to wake up next to Charles every morning? Having him make you breakfast and give you forehead kisses and tell you how much he loves you in that sexy accent?”
“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself, bro,” Luca laughs. “You’ll be lucky if you can get a Tinder match to agree to split the bill at McDonalds.”
“Why you gotta bring me back to my sad reality like that?” Giovanni groans, chucking a throw pillow at Luca’s head. “Let me live vicariously through Charles’ bougie mystery girlfriend for a little while longer, damn.”
Enzo sighs and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You know what the craziest part of all this is? The fact that Charles managed to keep a whole ass girlfriend hidden from the world. Like, the media has been speculating about his love life forever and no one had a clue he was actually in a serious relationship. That man moves in silence like a ninja.”
“Yeah, and did you see how he just casually threw out that he loves her?” Luca gushes. “He was all I love spoiling you, you deserve the world. My dude is head over heels for this girl and I am LIVING for it.”
“Ugh, why can’t I find a man like that?” Giovanni whines dramatically. “All I want is a guy who will write me cute Instagram captions in three languages and buy out the Gucci store for me but I guess that’s too much to ask!”
“Maybe if you stanned Charles harder, the universe would reward you,” Enzo snarks. “Start leaving thirsty comments on his shirtless pics, see if that manifests your dream F1 boyfriend.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t already do that,” Giovanni retorts with a smirk. “How else do you think Oscar Piastri ended up in my DMs last night?”
“Wait, WHAT?” Luca and Enzo exclaim in unison, whipping their heads around to gape at their friend.
Giovanni bursts out laughing at their shocked faces. “I’m just kidding, jeez! You think I’d be sitting here listening to you losers if Oscar freaking Piastri actually messaged me? Puh-lease.”
“Man, don’t even joke about that,” Enzo grumbles, clutching at his heart. “You really had me going there for a sec.”
Luca huffs and slouches down in his seat. “Can we get back to being jealous of Charles’ sugar baby girlfriend now? I was enjoying that more than whatever the hell this conversation turned into.”
“She’s not his sugar baby!” Enzo argues. “They’re clearly in love! Did we watch the same video? The way he talked to her was mad cute. That’s his GIRL girl.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Luca concedes, holding his hands up in apology. “Charles might spoil her but he obviously adores her for more than just her looks. That’s the real relationship goals right there.”
“Imagine being so secure in your love that you can just ball out on your partner like that and know it’s only going to make them love you more,” Giovanni muses. “Cannot relate.”
Enzo nods sagely. “Charles is just built different, man. In more ways than one.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Luca agrees. “So, are we watching this video another 50 times or are we moving on to the Grill the Grid compilation I found of all of Charles’ most adorably flustered moments?”
Enzo grins maniacally and reaches for the mouse. “Oh, you know we’re watching the hell out of this absolute gift again. And then we’re gonna spend the next three hours cyberstalking Charles and seeing if we can find any other crumbs about who this legendary mystery woman is. For research purposes.”
“This is the most productive thing we’ve done in months and I’m not even ashamed,” Giovanni declares, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the intense social media deep dive they’re about to undertake.
***
In a crowded sports bar in Dublin, a group of die-hard Ferrari fans gather to watch the latest race. But today, there’s another bit of F1-related content that has their attention. They huddle around a phone, repeatedly watching the now-infamous TikTok video.
“Can you believe it? €10,000 just like that!” Exclaims James, a tall, lanky guy with a mop of curly hair. “I mean, I knew Charles was loaded but damn ...”
“Forget the money, did you see his girlfriend?” Tom, a stocky redhead, chimes in. “Absolutely stunning. Like, how does a race car driver land a girl like that?”
Mark, a quieter guy with glasses, rolls his eyes. “Uh, maybe because he’s Charles freaking Leclerc? The man’s a beast on the track and has the face of a Greek god. Girls probably throw themselves at him left and right.”
The guys all mutter in begrudging agreement, a note of envy coloring their voices. On screen, the video replays yet again, showing you confidently calling up your boyfriend and securing the small fortune without batting an eye.
“God, what I wouldn’t give to have a woman look at me the way she probably looks at Leclerc,” Tom sighs wistfully.
“In your dreams, mate,” James scoffs. “Girls like that are way out of our league. We can’t compete with a Ferrari paycheck and Monaco real estate.”
“Still doesn’t seem fair though,” grumbles Mark. “The dude’s already got it all — talent, fame, money. Leave some for the rest of us!”
On screen, the video reaches the part where you coolly inform the gobsmacked TikToker that you don’t need his measly €2,000 and he should donate it to an animal shelter instead. The guys let out low whistles, clearly impressed by your classy move.
“See, that right there, that’s what separates the Monegasque princess types from regular girls,” says James with an air of authority. “We would’ve taken the cash in a heartbeat.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m a man of principle,” Tom jokes, puffing out his chest exaggeratedly. The others snort and shove him playfully.
As the video ends, the guys sit back, each lost in their own wistful imaginings of what it must be like to be Charles Leclerc. To have the money, success, and effortless charm to win over a girl like you.
Mark is the first to break the contemplative silence. “Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” he muses thoughtfully. “I mean yeah, Charles is a lucky bastard, no doubt. But that girl, she seems like a real catch too. Like the kind of person who’d keep you humble and grounded, even when you’re a superstar athlete with the world at your feet.”
The others consider this, nodding slowly. “Fair point,” concedes Tom. “Behind every great man and all that jazz. Leclerc may have his millions but he still needs someone to call him out on his BS from time to time.”
“Exactly,” agrees Mark. “And did you hear the way he spoke to her on the phone? The dude’s completely smitten. He may have all the money and fame, but I bet she’s the real prize in his eyes.”
“Alright, alright, settle down Dr. Phil,” James interjects with a good-natured eye roll. “You gonna start writing romance novels in your spare time now? Maybe they’ll make a movie — The Tifosi Who Loved Me: A Charles Leclerc Story.”
The guys all crack up laughing at that, the tension broken. Their envy towards Leclerc’s charmed life remains, but it’s now tinged with a newfound respect and even a touch of empathy.
“Y’know, jokes aside, I do hope he realizes how lucky he is to have her and treats her right,” Mark says sincerely as their chuckles subside. “A love like that seems rare these days.”
Tom reaches over to clap Mark on the shoulder. “No worries, mate. Did you see the dopey grin on Charles’ face in those paparazzi pics of them together that came out earlier? That man is whipped with a capital W. He knows he’s got a keeper.”
“As he should,” nods James sagely. “Behind every great Ferrari champion is an even greater woman keeping his ego in check. Tale as old as time.”
On that note, the guys clink their pint glasses together, silently saluting the unnamed woman who stole the heart of Charles Leclerc and the envious admiration of Formula 1 fans worldwide. The mystery girlfriend with impeccable style and a heart of gold.
As the pre-race coverage starts up on the bar TV, the guys settle in to cheer on their favorite driver, their fleeting jealousy replaced by the camaraderie and excitement of race day. But in the back of their minds, a single wistful thought remains — what they wouldn’t give to find a love like Charles and his girl seem to share. Guess that’s just one more thing to add to the list of reasons to idolize Charles Leclerc.
***
Among the hordes of viewers obsessively replaying the clip are three best friends gathered for a girls night at a posh Parisian penthouse. Colette, the willowy blonde draped across a velvet chaise lounge, takes a sip of her champagne and shakes her head in wonder.
“God, can you imagine having a boyfriend who just casually drops 10k on you like it’s nothing? Talk about relationship goals,” she sighs dreamily.
Next to her, Nadia snorts derisively while scrolling through Instagram on her phone. “Oh please, like that’s hard to find. I bet loads of rich guys would do that for their girlfriends. It’s not that impressive.”
From her perch on a tufted ottoman, Stephanie raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? You think Liam would send you that kind of cash without batting an eye? Mr. I-Need-To-Check-With-My-Financial-Advisor-Before-I-Buy-A-New-Tie?”
Colette erupts into giggles at the scathing impression of Nadia’s banker boyfriend. Even Nadia cracks a reluctant smile before tossing her sleek dark hair.
“Whatever. I’m just saying, that TikTok chick’s boyfriend can’t be THAT special. I’m sure if we did the same challenge our boyfriends would come through too,” she declares with more than a hint of competitiveness in her voice.
“Oooh yes, let’s do it! Let’s recreate the video and see what happens!” Colette squeals, bouncing up and down on the chaise with excitement.
Stephanie, ever the voice of reason, looks uncertain. “I don’t know, guys ... isn’t it a bit tacky to demand money from them like that? What if they get mad?”
Nadia rolls her eyes. “Oh come on Steph, live a little! It’s just a silly experiment. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Okay, okay fine,” Stephanie relents, unable to resist her friends’ cajoling. “But I’m blaming you both if Omer breaks up with me over this!”
“Deal!” Colette grins impishly as she grabs her phone. “I’ll go first — let me call Henry and we’ll see if he’s as generous as Mystery Monaco Man.”
With a deep breath, she dials her property developer boyfriend and launches into her rehearsed plea as soon as he picks up. “Baby!” She whines. “You’ll never believe what happened. I’m out with the girls and my Louboutins broke! Like the heel just totally snapped off. I’m absolutely gutted, these were my faves. Is there any way you could send some money to my account so I can grab a new pair on the way home? Pleeeaaase, I’ll love you forever!”
There’s a heavy pause before Henry’s clipped voice comes through, tinged with annoyance. “Christ, again with the bloody shoes? What is it with you women and wasting my hard earned money on bits of leather you don’t need? Can’t you just take the broken ones to get fixed?”
Colette’s perfectly glossed pout trembles, her blue eyes shining with disappointed tears as Nadia and Stephanie look on in pity. “Never mind,” she mumbles. “Forget I asked. Chat later.” She hangs up and flings her phone down despondently.
“What an ass,” Nadia spits. “You deserve so much better.” Colette shrugs sadly but rallies as she turns to Stephanie expectantly.
“Okay Steph, your turn to give Omer a ring! Let’s hope he restores our faith in rich boyfriends everywhere.”
Stephanie grimaces but dutifully calls her Qatar-based hedge fund manager beau. In her most saccharine voice, she makes her case. “Habibi, you know that gorgeous YSL bag I showed you last week? It finally came back in stock but only for today! Could you maybe pop some cash in my account so I can treat myself? I’ve been working so hard lately and-”
“Wallahi Stephanie, how many handbags does one woman need?” Omer cuts her off irritably. “If I buy you this one, I don’t want to hear any more whining for designer things for at least 6 months, got it? I’ll send you 500 euros, that should more than cover it.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks, I guess ...” Stephanie replies glumly before ending the call. She shakes her head at her friends. “Well, it’s something at least?”
“Hardly,” Nadia scoffs. “These men, I swear. Okay, time for me to show you girls how it’s done. Watch and learn, ladies.”
With a confident smirk, she video calls Liam who answers distractedly, clearly still at the office despite the late hour. “This better be important Nadia, I’m right in the middle of-”
“Liam. Focus,” Nadia cuts him off crisply. “I need you to send €10,000 to my account right now. No questions asked.” She arches a commanding eyebrow, daring him to argue.
Liam just blinks at her for a moment before letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, you need me to do what now? 10 grand, are you mad? For what possible reason?”
“To prove you love me,” Nadia retorts smugly. “I saw this thing on TikTok, some girl’s boyfriend sent her-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Liam interrupts. “I’m not one of your little social media playthings to manipulate for views, Nadia. My money is not a toy. I’ll buy you a thoughtful gift for your birthday next month, but I’m not in the business of flinging cash at you for no reason. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have real work to do. Goodnight.”
With that he abruptly ends the call, leaving Nadia staring at the blank screen, a red flush of embarrassment and anger creeping up her elegant neck. Stephanie and Colette exchange knowing looks.
“So … that went well,” Stephanie quips sarcastically.
Colette sighs morosely as she flops back onto the chaise, hugging a silk pillow. “Maybe that girl’s boyfriend really is one of a kind. God, I bet she feels like the luckiest woman alive. Can you even imagine being THAT loved and adored?”
Nadia seems to deflate, her bravado evaporating. “No,” she whispers. “I can’t. You’re right, Col. Mystery Monaco Man is clearly in a league of his own. I bet he makes her feel like an absolute queen every damn day.”
Stephanie nods thoughtfully, twirling a lock of hair. “You know what though? Good for her. She seems lovely and down-to-earth in the video. If anyone deserves that fairy tale romance, it’s a girl like that who doesn’t even realize how special it is.”
“Ugh, so true. god I’m depressed now,” Colette groans, reaching for the champagne bottle to refill her glass. “To Mystery Monaco Man — may he set the standard for rich boyfriends everywhere. And to the girl who’s lucky enough to love him — may she live happily ever after and never take a single moment for granted.”
“Hear, hear,” Nadia and Stephanie chorus, clinking their glasses against Colette’s.
As the bubbles fizz on their tongues, the wistful faraway looks in their eyes betray the same thought — what they wouldn’t give to trade places with you for just a day, to know what it feels like to be cherished so completely by a man like Charles. To them, you’re living the ultimate dream.
If only they knew the best part isn’t the extravagant gestures or lavish gifts.
It’s the little moments. The soft kisses pressed to your temple. The fingers intertwined with yours. The sleepy smiles over morning coffee. The shared laughter and inside jokes. The unwavering support and unconditional acceptance. The bone-deep feeling of safety and coming home.
That’s the real fairy tale. And no amount of money could ever buy it.
***
Back in Monaco, Lando Norris slouches comfortably in his gaming chair, eyes glued to the triple monitors in front of him. He’s meant to be reviewing telemetry data in preparation for the upcoming race weekend, but the notification chime from his phone proves far too tempting. Lando picks up the device, fully intending to only glance at it for a second before dutifully returning to his work.
But then he sees it — the TikTok that at least a dozen people have sent to him in the past hour alone. Curiosity piqued, Lando clicks on the video and watches intently, his brows steadily rising towards his hairline with each passing second.
“Wait, is that ...” he mutters to himself as the clip plays out. When your boyfriend’s voice comes through the speakers, Lando’s eyes bug out comically. “Holy shit, it is Charles! And Y/N!”
A knock on the door makes Lando jump slightly. Before he can respond, a familiar mop of tousled chestnut hair pokes into the room. “Hey mate, did you see-” Max Verstappen starts to say.
“The TikTok of Charles simping hard for Y/N? Yup, watching it right now,” Lando finishes for him, eyes still glued to his phone screen in fascination.
Max invites himself into the room fully and flops down on the couch. “Absolutely crazy, right? Who just casually sends their girlfriend 10k for a random pair of shoes?”
Lando snorts. “Certainly not you, you stingy Dutchman,” he ribs playfully. Max chucks a throw pillow at him in retaliation.
“Hey, even I splurge on my girlfriend sometimes!” Max protests. “I just bought her ... erm ...” He racks his brain trying to remember the last lavish gift he purchased unprompted.
“A six-pack of Sugar Free Red Bull last week?” Lando supplies dryly.
“... Shut up.”
The two dissolve into snickers before turning their attention back to the TikTok, which has now looped to the beginning again.
“Charles is so whipped for Y/N,” Max observes, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “He’s just asking to get taken advantage of, throwing money around like that.”
“I think it’s kinda sweet,” Lando admits with a shrug. “He just wants to make her happy. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if your girl asked!”
Max scoffs. “What, fall victim to a gold digger? No thanks mate.”
“Y/N’s hardly a gold digger and you know it,” Lando chides. “She works hard for her own money and buys plenty of expensive gifts for Charles too. They just like spoiling each other ‘cause they’re in luuurve.” He draws out the last word in a silly voice, making dramatic kissy faces.
“Yeah, yeah, true love and all that sappy bullshit,” Max says dismissively, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m just saying, no way in hell I’m sending 10k on command for a pair of fucking shoes!”
Lando hums thoughtfully. “I would.”
Max’s head whips around to stare at him incredulously. “You what.”
“If it was the right girl? Sure, I’d do it,” Lando says nonchalantly. “Maybe not for something frivolous like shoes, but if my girlfriend called me up and said she needed 10k transferred ASAP? I’d do it, no questions asked. You gotta have that level of trust.”
Clearly torn between wanting to take the piss out of his friend and feeling a reluctant sort of respect, Max just grunts noncommittally in response before turning back to rewatch the clip once more.
Debate rages online among the fans about the cute interaction. Most find the whole thing adorably romantic, cooing over what a doting and generous boyfriend Charles is. They swoon at the obvious love and care between you two, speculating excitedly in the comments about when Charles might pop the question.
Others are more cynical, rolling their eyes at Charles “simping” so hard and accusing you of only dating the Ferrari driver for his money. However, these naysayers are quickly drowned out and ratio’d by your legions of adoring supporters.
Through it all, you and Charles pay the speculation little mind, blissfully wrapped up in your fairytale romance.
Charles returns home that evening to the mouthwatering aroma of his favorite pesto pasta dish wafting from the kitchen. He grins when he spots you at the stove, swaying your hips to the sultry jazz music playing from the speaker as you stir the sauce. Quietly, he comes up behind you and slips his strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Mmm, smells amazing,” he murmurs appreciatively.
You turn in his embrace and loop your arms around his neck, smiling radiantly up at him. “Welcome home, Cha-Cha,” you greet him, using the silly pet name that never fails to make him chuckle and scrunch his nose adorably. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“And what’s for dessert?” Charles asks with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.
Biting your lip coyly, you untangle yourself from his arms and saunter off towards the bedroom. “Come find out after we eat. Oh, and I picked up a little something special to express my gratitude for earlier ...” you call over your shoulder with a wink.
Charles’ megawatt grin could power all of Monaco for a year. Viral TikTok or not, the Monegasque knows he’s already the luckiest man in the world to have you as his partner through this crazy ride called life.
No amount of money could ever compare to the joy of being loved by you.
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smileysuh · 1 month
Text
comfort cuisine
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
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Prologue
“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”
“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”
“It’s not-”
“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”
The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.
Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.
You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen. 
You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained. 
Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-
“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”
“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”
“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”
Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”
You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
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One
Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.
On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her. 
“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.
Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”
“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head.  “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”
“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.
“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”
Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’
When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-
“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.
“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”
“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. 
“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”
“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”
Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments. 
Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.
“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”
“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”
“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.
“Speaking of-”
“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.
“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”
“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.
“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”
“That’s a great idea!”
“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”
He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant. 
When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”
“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”
“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”
“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”
“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes. 
“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”
“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”
The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had. 
“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down. 
“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.
“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”
Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.
“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”
Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”
“Hey!” Johnny laughs.
“I’ll consider it,” you grin.
“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”
“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.
“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”
There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line. 
“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”
And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.
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Two
You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early. 
Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.
Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”
“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”
“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”
Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“That bad, huh?” he asks.
“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan. 
“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”
“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.
“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”
You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies. 
“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.
“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”
“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”
You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green. 
You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.
He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.
“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”
“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”
“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”
“A hundred percent.” 
“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”
“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”
“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”
“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”
“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.
“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.
“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.
“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods. 
“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”
“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.” 
“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.
Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”
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Three
Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter. 
He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.
“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”
“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter. 
“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”
“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.
The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite. 
The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.
But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.
“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”
“Like what?”
“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”
“That could work,” Johnny nods. 
“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask. 
Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.
You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.
In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.
“What about oats?” you suggest. 
“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.
Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.
“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”
“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.
As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings- 
“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”
“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”
Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”
“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin. 
Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.
But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.
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Four
“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.
“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Shoot.”
“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”
“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”
“Really? You sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”
A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.
Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.
While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.
She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.
When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.
Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.
“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”
He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”
You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”
“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”
“Can y/n stay longer?”
Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”
“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”
“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.
Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands. 
“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
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Five
It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different. 
What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.
“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”
“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl. 
“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”
Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment. 
“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.
“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”
Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”
“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”
Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”
“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.
“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”
“What made you finally give it a try?”
“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”
“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”
“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”
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Six
Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy. 
Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.
While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance. 
Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.
As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture. 
In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.
The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.
On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her. 
Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud. 
As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.
Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.
You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.
Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.
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Seven
Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.
“Hey, you,” you answer.
“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”
There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”
“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”
“Not so hot actually.”
Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”
“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”
“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”
“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”
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Eight
“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”
You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”
“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.
“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.
“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.
“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.” 
“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.
His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles. 
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.
“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”
“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”
“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”
“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.
You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”
Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”
“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”
“I think I love you.”
“Huh?” you freeze.
“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”
“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”
“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”
“Doyoung, for one.”
“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”
“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”
“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”
“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”
“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”
“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”
“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.
“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.” 
His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.
“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”
Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.
His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.
His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.
“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.
“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.
“You’re drunk,” you say finally.
“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”
“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”
“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.
“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”
Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”
“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”
“You’re right,” Johnny concedes. 
“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”
“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.
“Uh huh.”
“Will you stay in my bed with me?”
“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”
Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”
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Nine
Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-
He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.
After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.
Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.
It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.
“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.
God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.
“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.
“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.
“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.” 
Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”
“Good!” 
You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.  
“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”
“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”
“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”
“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.
“When’s Soonie come home?”
Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”
“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”
“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”
You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.
“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.
“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”
“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own. 
God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
“Take me out on a date,” you say.
“Hmm?”
“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”
“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”
Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you. 
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Ten
It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.
He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.
When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”
“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins. 
“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”
“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”
“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”
Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.
The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.
“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.
“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs. 
“Look at you being all cocky.”
“You love it.”
He’s so right.
The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.
Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?” 
Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.
“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.
“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”
You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?” 
“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”
Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it. 
Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.
It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.
You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.
Johnny releases a sleepy groan.
You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Hi,” you respond lightly.
Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”
Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.
“More than okay with it.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.
His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.
You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.
“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.
“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.
Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.
His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.
Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.
You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes. 
Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.
Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.
His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.
You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him. 
You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. 
Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more. 
Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh. 
He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.
“You’re already so wet,” he muses.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.
“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.
Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”
“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?
He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion. 
It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?
Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.
Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”
Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.
Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you. 
“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.
Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.
“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”
“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”
“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.
Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”
A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.
“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.
From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.
It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.
Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”
You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.
“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.” 
Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.
You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.
The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.
Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.
Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.
You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”
“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”
“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.
You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp. 
He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”
As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.
Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.
“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”
“If you say so, honey.”
The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.
Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.
Although, would this be called fucking?
The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.
“Johnny?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”
“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”
Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock. 
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.
“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.” 
Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.
“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”
“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”
“Where should I cum?”
“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”
He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.
You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.
“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”
“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.
“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.
You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-
“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”
Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.
Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.
The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.
You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close. 
“I love you,” he tells you again.
You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”
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Epilogue
The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.
“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.
Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.
He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.
“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.
“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.
“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.
“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”
“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.
Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.
“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.
“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.
“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”
“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.
“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”
Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?
Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.
“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)
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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
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bonus
You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.
It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.
Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.
“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.
“Customers?” you suggest.
“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.
“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.
He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.
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beejunos · 2 months
Text
UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader
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Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.
This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst
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The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you. 
Well, stranger than the hotel usually was. 
Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption! 
While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.
Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge! 
Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel. 
The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently. 
There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory. 
"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?" 
You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face. 
He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner! 
And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work. 
But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.  
You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you. 
Alastor's shadow liked to be around you. 
It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen. 
"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?" 
Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?
You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.
"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again. 
"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod. 
You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.
"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.
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The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.
When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you. 
It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.
However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing. 
One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel. 
It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?
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It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath. 
The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.
You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled. 
It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints. 
At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction. 
Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to? 
The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you. 
"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door. 
"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  
The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.
"Where are you?"
Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes. 
Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes. 
Alastor was calling his shadow back to him. 
The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin. 
"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form. 
Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.
"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying. 
His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs. 
"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now." 
Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner. 
"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.  
"I don't know..."
"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid. 
"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.
"No!"  
"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.
"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.
"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!" 
With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.
"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see. 
Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago. 
Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.  
You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire. 
"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough. 
“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.
Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch. 
"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.
You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.
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PART 2.
I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...
1K notes · View notes
girlboypersonthingy · 3 months
Note
Hi yes i saw hazbin requests were open??? Anything involving pining Lucifer. Or lucifer seeing reader dressed super nice for like a fancy party or something (full makeup, fancy revealing dress, that sorta thing) for the first time. Maybe feelings are revealed? I’m a sucker for pining
I love that we are all so disgustingly thirsty for this man. He deserves it ❤️‍🔥 but seriously tho…all my Lucifer posts have gotten at least 100 likes in the first day that they’re posted. Like damn yall, we need to talk about our husband more! We all have such good taste 😌 I love our little short king. Thanks for the request. Enjoyyyyyyy~
Notes: fem!reader, reader wears a dress in this one
TW: suggestive themes, hardcore pining, heavy making out
🪽The King of Pining🪽
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This morning, Charlie invited everyone to the lobby of the hotel, shouting out that she had great news and a wonderful idea. Husk and Angel grumble about their annoyance with it being too early in the morning and them being way too sober for group activities right now as they plop down on one of the couches. The rest of the group files in, finding spots to relax as Charlie bounces up and down in her spot, bitting her lip and clenching her fists out of pure excitement. You follow along, deciding to stay standing and a bit behind the group, glancing back to see Lucifer coming to join the pack, standing just behind the couch that sat Vaggie and Nifty. You stare at him for a moment and when he finally glances your way, you offer him a sleepy smile and a quick wave of your hand. A small smirk finds its way to his lips as he nods his head at you, quickly looking away after.
“So…what’s the news?” Vaggie finally speaks up once everyone is settled and all eyes are on Charlie standing front and center. “Sooooooo, I had a brilliant idea that will be equally fun and beneficial to the hotel. Ready? Ready for it?” Charlie looks around the group, looking as if she might burst into flames of enthusiasm any moment now. “WE ARE GONNA HOST A BALL!!!”
Angel smirks as he nudges Husk beside him. “Heh, balls.” “She said ‘ball’, jackass. Singular.” Husk spits back, rolling his eyes as he scoots away from Angel a bit.
“It’ll attract new recruits for the hotel! We can mingle, talk about all we have to offer. AH! It’s gonna be soooooo funnnnnn.” Charlie is yelling now, she can’t control herself in the slightest.
Charlie goes into explaining the details- it is to be a huge party with a formal dress code that everyone and anyone is invited to. It’ll be here at the hotel, with an open bar (Husk wants to die) and music! The group lets out noises of mixed emotions, Nifty and Angel shouting out of excitement and anticipation while Husk and Alastor both let out noises of dread. You, on the other hand are nervous but looking forward to having a fun night and getting to know the hotel staff and residents better. As Charlie’s speech ends, the group begins to disperse and talk amongst themselves.
You watch as Charlie approaches Vaggie, shyly dropping to her knees in front of her on the couch so that they are eye level with each other. “Will you…be my date to the ball, Vags?” You can’t help but smile as you watch Vaggie laugh, her cheeks and nose slowly changing color. “Of course, you goofball. You’re my partner. There’s no one else I’d rather go with.” They share a long hug, a beautiful positive energy radiating off of them.
“They’re just adorable, aren’t they?” The low, charming voice that sounds right next to you causes you to flinch a bit, now turning to see the king of hell himself standing beside you. “Oh! Hey. Yeah. They are pretty cute. They make a great couple.” You look back to the two girls holding hands and giggling but Lucifer keeps his eyes on you, taking this opportunity while you’re distracted to examine all the little details of your face up close. Hopefully no one else catches sight of him in this moment of utter hopeless romanticism.
When he finally snaps out of it, he lets out a sigh before putting on his best smile, clearing his throat just to get your attention again. “Speaking of great couples~” And as soon as your eyes land on him again, your lips curved up ever so slightly, his courage quickly leaves him. Lucifer freezes for a moment, mouth going dry as he tried to find a way out of this. Say something you idiot.
“I-I ha! I uh…I wonder what other great couples we’ll see at this party. Maybe some of hell’s highest royalty?” Nervous chuckles just keep rolling from his lips and he’s really hoping you don’t notice the way his hands are shaking as they rest on his cane. One of his trembling hands comes to the collar of his shirt, lightly yanking it down as if that would help bring air back to his lungs, the air you’ve sucked out of him with one simple glance.
“Hm. Yeah. Maybe.” You reply plainly, looking back to Vaggie and Charlie and before you can converse with Lucifer any further, he’s walking off with his tail between his legs, eyes wild and full of doubt. “You’ll be there. You are the king of hell after all, I’m sure everyone will be too focused on you and Charlie to notice any other royals. Are you uhm…planning on going with anyone?” You ask, still watching the two girls near the couch. Your voice stops Lucifer in his tracks, making him pause for a moment as he listens. He turns slowly back to you, wearing a bashful smile as he tucks both his arms behind his back.
“No, actually. I hadn’t even thought of it.” He lies, watching as you finally pull your gaze from his daughter and relax it on him. He slowly saunters back your way, unable to control his wandering eyes. “And what about you? Do you have anyone in mind that you’d want to go with?” And now his nervousness is rubbing off on you, making your voice shake as you respond. “Me? No, no…I’ll probably just tag along with uh…”
As you look around the room, it seems all couples have already paired up. Vaggie and Charlie sat on the couch still, Charlie’s legs strewn over her girlfriend’s lap. Angel and Husk seemed to be having a bit of an argument over what they will wear together. Angel wants to wear all pink but Husk is like FUCK NO. Even Sir Pentious was trembling in front of Cherri, as he looked to he asking her out. Obviously, Alastor is bringing his shadow along. That’s kind of a date…right?
“Uhm I mean, who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone there.” The pride that inflated Lucifer’s chest just seconds ago seems to suddenly be punctured and drained by your lack of acknowledgment to his flirty hints. He wants to ask you to be his so badly it’s making his chest hurt now. Not his for the night, not his during the party, his all the time, any time he needs you. As he opens his mouth to speak, he hesitates and then decides to let out a heavy sigh instead. “Well..I will see you there.” And with the tip of his head, he finally turned and left you standing alone in a herd of conversing couples.
~night of the party~
You figured there’s no harm in showing up fashionably late tonight. At least, that was your excuse for showing up late. In reality, you were fully ready before the ball even started but your legs were so weak and shaky, you couldn’t find the strength to get yourself out there. So instead, you’re sitting in your room, fully clad in your nicest dress along with some accessories, sunken into your plush bed as you try to steady your breathing. Maybe if I stay here long enough in this dress, I can just say I was there but not actually go…
A knock on your door has you straightening up in your spot, a warm surprised feeling lighting up your chest. “Come in.” You respond, wondering just who was coming to see you right now. You assumed it was Angel trying to get you to come out and start partying with him. To your surprise, the princess of hell pops her cheerful little face inside your room.
“(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d be coming…out…there. Oh my gosh! You look so gorgeous EEEEE!” Charlie steps into your room now, her big yellow eyes shining with enthusiasm and hope as she fangirls over your getup. “Oh, thank you. You look stunning yourself.” Charlie watches your eyes fluttering all around the room, unable to focus. “Yeah…I’m coming. Just…feeling anxious I guess.” Taking a deep breath, you finally stand, straightening out your dress and checking your hair in a mirror quickly. “Oh stop it! You look flawless, (Y/N). Let’s go have some fun.” Charlie quickly links arms with you and drags you out to the lobby full of people, lights and music.
Within just a few minutes of joining the party, you find yourself looking around a sea of strangers all on your own. Seems the princess of hell has a line of guests wanting to meet and greet with her. Understandable, but you’re starting to get overwhelmed. You’re desperately looking for a familiar face, needing a buddy to help you feel included and secure. As you swim through sinners and other residents of hell, head turning side to side, you finally spot Lucifer after nearly an hour of wandering around alone.
Sure, His typical white suit is nice, very flattering on him. But, oh boy, did he look fantastic tonight, heavenly even. For this special occasion, Lucifer was dressed in a deep red suit with accents of white and no hat, instead sporting his pretty, slicked back blonde hair. You’re not quick to rush to him, I mean are you trying to look desperate and pathetic? No, just stay calm. But once again, you two share a glance from afar and give each other a small wave of the hand. Lucifer looks…pained. He looks like he might just collapse to his knees and start vomiting. His shift in body language causes your smile to drop, your expression shifting to one of concern as you mouth to him ‘you okay?’.
From Lucifer’s point of view, the room became silent, empty, dimly lit with you there at the center of it all under this glowing golden ray of light. You looked angelic, innocent and sweet, elegant but also nervous and out of place and adorable and fuck it, he can’t wait. He nearly pushes the sinner trying to talk to him aside, rushing to you as his brain became overloaded with ideas of what to say to you.
With each and every stride he takes, your cheeks flush deeper shades of red. With every step, his knees begin to feel more and more like jelly. Finally, he’s joined you in the spotlight, the rest of the party fading away before both of your eyes as you stand just inches apart. Now, it’s all wandering eyes and heavy breathing from both of you. Licking your lips first, you force words out to break this awful silence.
“Wow! Y-you clean up well. You look nice, Luci.” As your voice reaches his ears, his dream-like state abruptly ended. The room floods with loud music, chatty people and bright lights again. He seems to perk up at your compliments, feeling like a dog in heat as his eyes travel up and down your lovely outfit. You watch as his eyes finally leave your waist and come up to meet your own gaze.
“Holy hell. You look absolutely divine.” He scoffs quietly, wondering how an angel like you ended up down here. “Oh, Lucifer.” You swat a hand at him and you can feel your face burning up, sweat starting to form on your upper lip and forehead. “Stop it. You flatter me.”
Lucifer looked as if he might pass out, becoming more and more flustered the more you blush. Although, a pleased smirk graces his face because oh~ you like when he flirts with you, huh? It’s okay, he’s hella into you too.Together, you’re just a ticking time bomb of gushy feelings and sexual tension. He figures if he wants to have any chance of confessing his feelings to you tonight, his best option is to lead you out of the way and put a little distance between you two and the crowd. So, he reaches out and gently takes your hand, pulling you along to the now vacant bar with an extremely forced and up tight grin.
Husk is standing behind the counter, looking not as irritated as you’d thought he would tonight. Luci pulls out a stool for you, gesturing for you to sit before he does because he’s a gentleman and ladies always go first. “Hey. Whatcha want, doll?” Husk ask you first, giving you a wink after you answer. “And for you, sir?” He eyes Lucifer who shakes his head, politely refusing his offer. As Husk begins whipping up your drink, yet another tense silence falls between you two.
“Are you having a good time?” The blonde finally speaks up, side eyeing you. “Eh. I’m not a big party person. I’m not a fan of big crowds either so…not really.” At long last, your unhappy and disappointed attitude brings all of Lucifer’s courage and gall to his mouth. Now’s his chance. “Let’s get out of here then.” He blurts out as Husk slides your drink to you, the bartender giving you an awkward look. “What? But all these folks wanna meet you.” Once you look over to him, a devious smile makes its way to Lucifer’s thin lips as you take your first drink. “And? I’m the king of hell! I do as I please.” He teases and now you’re both smiling brightly, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you push his arm playfully. “I love Charlie but I hate this party. Let me finish my drink first, yeah?”
Lucifer continues to side eye you and also scan over the entire room, checking out the scene as you sip on your drink. You can see his casual glances and the way he quickly diverts his attention as soon as you catch him staring. Now you’re the one feeling some bravery. You quickly and smoothly slip your hand into his, letting your thumb rub back and forth across his knuckles as you try to quickly suck down the rest of your drink.
The grip you have on each other grows stronger, tighter with each second that passes. You notice Lucifer bouncing his leg now, growing impatient and needy. As soon as a slurping noise comes from the straw at the bottom of your glass, Lucifer is trying to pull you up off your seat. He’s not worried about hiding his eagerness from you at this point, not when you’re looking like you do now and getting so blushy and shy at his flirtatious comments. He has to shoot his shot, he has to try. You’re the only person who’s made him feel young and love sick again after Lilith, he can’t afford to let you slip away too. That would crush him more than the weight of the embarrassment and discomfort he is feeling right now.
Lucifer leads you to the library, doubting anyone would be occupying it at the moment and he is correct. Finally, alone together, his hand in yours still, fingers interlocked. His big eyes, full of worry and second thoughts stare deep into yours as he gives himself a moment.
“Oh, my. Where do I even begin?” His other hand comes to yours, holding them both oh so delicately. “You…I’m so….” You nod, smiling to give him some encouragement to continue. “I want you so bad. I want to hold you, I just want to touch you already. I need to kiss you. (Y/N), I love you-“
You’re not sure what came over you but now your hands are exploring his blonde locks, your lips moving feverishly against his. Besides the faint, far away music playing, all you two could hear was each other’s soft gasps and the smacking of wet lips. At first, Lucifer was very engaged in the kiss but he was hesitant to touch you, unsure of where to put his hands. Like hell he wants to rest his claws on your hips or your butt, but he waits for you to give him the okay, his hands balled into fists and held up near his shoulders.
Finally letting him have his way, you guide his hands to your torso before breaking the kiss to whisper, “It’s okay, Luci. You can touch me.” It’s more of a whimper than a whisper but Lucifer isn’t complaining in the slightest. The tone of your voice and the feeling of finally touching your perfectly soft body had his eyes glowing bright red now.
Quickly and without warning, he crashes his lips back into yours sloppily, his long forked tongue gently gliding across your lip, giving the slightest bit of attention to your teeth. He would devour every bit of you right now if you only asked. He wished you would ask right now. He’d even beg for it…You happily let your mouth open more, inviting him in as his arms slowly stretch their way around you until he’s holding you tightly against him. Lucifer squeezes you tightly as he savors your taste for a moment, pulling a soft whine from you before loosening up.
With your eyes closed, you tried to just follow his lead and do your best at impressing and arousing him but he’s sort of doing the same. He hasn’t been with anyone like this in so long, he’s rusty as hell. So, yall are an absolute mess. After about a minute of wild making out and rapidly moving hands, you’ve found yourselves on the floor. The two of you sit up on your knees, holding onto each other as if your lives depend on it. Your hands held his cheeks so tenderly, pulling his face as close to your own as you possibly could.
Lucifer couldn’t help but smile against your mouth, a soft laugh leaving him as he remembers all those nights he dreamt of this exact situation- you looking beautiful and magnificent as always and him having the freedom to let his hands roam your darling figure. He’s been craving you, dreaming of you, wishing for you, praying for you. The laugh that escapes him results in you pulling back to get a look at him. And fuck was he gorgeous- hair a disheveled mess, the purple shadow on his eyelids smudged ever so slightly, his once impressive suit now wrinkled and shifted awkwardly on him, his lips still shiny from your saliva, his breathing loud and heavy and his smile just kept getting bigger, toothier.
“What are you laughing at?” Lucifer rests his forehead against yours, his eyes moving across your breathless, flushed face, just dying to know what’s on your mind now. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages, darling. More than I’ve wanted anything in my entire existence, I’ve wanted to be alone with you like this.” A breathy giggle leaves you, your hands shaking as they travel down from his face to his biceps.
“Oh really? Why don’t you stop telling me and…keep showing me?” You tease, your hands coming to rest on his puffed out chest. Your touch combined with your sweet flirting and breathy voice has all of his wings popping out momentarily. You can’t help but laugh at this, but Lucifer is all business right now. You told him to show you, and oh darling, he’s gonna teach you a whole lesson on how beautiful and ethereal you are to him…and he’s gonna teach you with only his hands and his mouth.
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hemmingsleclerc · 3 months
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The Leclerc's ┃CL16
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Y/N Leclerc looked out the large windows of her new apartment in Monaco. It was a new beginning for Y/N, her now husband Charles, and their four-year-old daughter, Emma.
Excitement filled the air as Y/N prepared for her daughter's first day of school. She carefully combed her little girl's hair, tied it into a ponytail, and helped her into her impeccable school uniform. As they walked hand in hand to the prestigious international school in Monaco, Y/N couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Moving to a new place and enrolling Emma in a new school were significant changes.
She and Charles had met at one of his races. She had been an F1 lover since she was little and when she was able to attend one she did not waste the opportunity. As fate would have it, they met and Charles fell completely in love with her, so it didn't take him long to ask her out, although Y/N didn't accept right away, and that motivated Charles to keep trying.
She had already been to Monaco numerous times in the 6 years of dating Charles, but moving there permanently was something totally different.
When Charles asked her to marry her, he had begged her to move to Monaco after the wedding and she really had no reason to refuse, Monaco was a beautiful and safe place for both of them to be able to raise their daughter in the best way.
Arriving at the school, Y/N and Emma were greeted by the sleek, modern architecture. They headed to the reception area, where a group of teachers and staff were busy.
"Bonjour, madame. How may I assist you?" the receptionist asked with a raised eyebrow, eyeing Y/N's casual yet elegant outfit.
"I'm here to enroll my daughter Emma in school. We just moved to Monaco," Y/N explained with a smile.
''Okay, what's your daughter's name?'' she asked
''Emma Jules Leclerc''
''Leclerc? Like the driver?''
''Yes, he's my husband actually'' Y/N responded
''really?''
''yes'' Y/N said losing patience little by little
The receptionist, along with a couple of nearby teachers, exchanged disbelieving glances. Suppressing laughter, they could not imagine that the ''supposed'' wife of the Charles Leclerc, would be standing in front of them.
The teachers exchanged knowing looks, convinced that Y/N was simply trying to impress them with a famous name.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. We take our check-in process seriously. If you are joking or providing false information, it will not be taken lightly," the receptionist warned, a hint of condescension in her tone.
Y/N couldn't believe what she had just heard, wanting to shout something in their faces for such stupidity, she maintained her composure and completed the registration procedures. She politely bid them farewell and left, promising to prove them wrong.
A few days later, Charles entered the school and his presence attracted attention. Dressed casually but calmly, he had an air of confidence as he approached the reception area.
"Bonjour! I'm here to pick up my daughter," Charles announced with a charming smile.
The receptionist could barely speak when she had such a man in front of her. With a slightly trembling voice she asked, "What is the name of your daughter, may I ask sir?"
''Emma, Emma Jules Leclerc, my wife signed her up a couple of days ago.''
''Your-your wife?''
The receptionist and the teachers, who had made fun of Y/N before, were paralyzed by surprise and little by little they felt the color leave their faces.
"Mon-cherie, everything fine?" Charles asked, wrapping an arm around Y/N's waist once she joined him.
''Of course darling''
Y/N smiled triumphantly, looking at the stunned receptionist and the teachers. Emma, holding her father's hand, smiled amused.
"Told ya'll he's my daddy," Emma declared sticking her tongue out , and Charles chuckled, giving his wife a knowing glance.
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hanafubukki · 18 days
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Summary: In which, Lilia can hear your thoughts but doesn't tell you.
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An accidental potion mishap with Grim led to some interesting side effects. While you didn't seem affected at all by the fluid spilled on you, Lilia, on the other hand, was the opposite.
He covered his smile with his sleeve.
This will be fun.
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Lilia curled his legs around Silver before slamming him to the floor.
“It’s not fair! It should have been me! Me!”
Lilia quickly buried his face into Silver’s shoulder.
“Father?”
“Khufufu~ it’s nothing.”
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Lilia always loved his get togethers at Diasomnia’s lounge. It was entertaining to see how the residents were behaving.
Today was no different.
You had shown up with Sebek, planning to study for your upcoming exam.
Sebek’s grilling you on various important figures, but what would make it more entertaining…if he just moved his arms and…
“I shouldn’t have come here. He’s too cute. I won’t be able to focus! Was that his stomach?? Someone save me. Oh Great Sevens.”
Lilia finished his stretching before hiding his laughter against Malleus’ arm.
“Lilia?”
“Nothing to worry about Malleus.”
Malleus stares at him before looking at the pair on the other side. He closed his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee, “As you say.”
“Damn it, why is his laughter hot?”
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“I have rarely wanted to be stepped on in my life, but I’ll make an exception for him.”
Lilia almost tripped as that thought suddenly invaded his mind. How rare. He hasn’t floundered in such a way since his early 200s.
“YN~”
He twirled around to face you. Your shocked expression has his lips twitching into a smirk.
“How did he-”
“Hi, Lilia. How are you?”
You trying so hard to keep a calm expression gave him a feeling of satisfaction.
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“May Sebek never find out that I want to fuck his greatest mentor. I will literally never hear the end of it.”
Up high in the balcony seating of NRC cafeteria, the students of Diasomnia slowly edged away from a certain table.
Their respected Vice Dorm leader stared at his lunch with a maniacal look.
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“Ahhhh stay away from me! What do you mean you could hear my thoughts?!”
“Come now Dearest~ I want to have a chat~”
“No! Tsunootarooouu put me to sleep for a thousand years! I can’t live like this!”
Staff and students watched as their Prefect ran away as if hellhounds were on their heels. With the devious smirk on one Lilia Vanrouge’s face? There might as well be.
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The simping is strong today ☺️💞, okay but seriously, these are actual thoughts I’ve had before with Lilia 😂💚🌺
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oomisluvr · 2 years
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SPOILED ROTTEN
(SEE: RICHBOY!SAKUSA SPOILS YOU A LITTLE TOO MUCH).
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“ABSOLUTELY not.” He deadpans, glaring at you like you’ve just kicked his dog and insulted his mother. It’s not a kind tone, “Don’t ask me again.” 
“Kiyoomi, you always do this,” you seethe, ignoring the discomfort of the round-cheeked waitress holding the card reader, “Let. Me. Pay.”
“Fuck. No.” He returns, redirecting his attention to the server and handing her his card, “I’m terribly sorry about her. Debit, please.”
“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” You say as she scurries off, clearly amused at the battlefield the two of you have created in the center of this high-end, dimly lit restaurant. You wouldn’t be surprised to find a moviestar seated at the table behind you. 
He repeats your name back to you in the same tone you used with him, a handsome grin on his face, “Yes, my love?”
“Stop paying for everything!” You demand, “People already think I’m using you for your money, and you aren’t really helping my case.” You’ve seen the tweets. Some are accusatory. Some are happy for you. None of them attest to your character. 
“Well,” he leans over the table, finding your hands and softly stroking the knuckle there, trapping you in his coffee-cold gaze, “Are you using me for my money?”
“No,” you grumble, a little flustered at his forwardness, “But still–”
He releases your hand as the words leave your mouth, a satisfactory smile tugging at his lips, “Then there’s no issue. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to you using me for money. I’m a useful guy.”
“Kiyoomi, that’s not the point–”
“As a matter of fact,” he sifts through his wallet to find what he’s looking for, gently sliding it across the table when he locates whatever it is, “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”
The young waitress returns with a smooth leather checkbook and a pen. He thanks her as she walks off, delivering his signature to the flimsy receipt with a few flicks of his wrist, “What’s twenty percent of two hundred? I wasn’t good at math.”
You don’t answer that, “You can’t be serious. Kiyoomi, I can’t accept–”
“Is fifty dollars enough to tip? Fuck it, I’ll just leave sixty.”
“This is your credit card.”
“You have great eyesight,” he comments, shrugging like it’s nothing, “And I have good credit. Use it for whatever. I’ll pay it off.”
You nearly laugh at the absurdity of it all, “Since when were you so confident?”
“When you started giving me attention,” He grins easily, “I’d do a lot of things to get you to pay attention to me.”
His transparency catches you off guard, “You’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he fires back, “You’re too pretty to not be taken seriously.” 
You sigh, face feeling hot. 
“You’re too much,” It takes a great effort to fight back the grin that threatens to break through, to suppress a smile at his ease, “Let’s go home.”
“Why don’t we go find something sweet?” He offers, standing to help you into your coat, “There’s a good ice cream place around here that stays open late.”
Your shy smile gives Kiyoomi enough of an answer. Thanking the staff as the two of you head for the door, he slithers a sneaky arm around your waist.
“I’ll even let you pay,” he flirts, pulling you closer to combat the late-night temperatures, “With your new credit card, of course.”
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This was so self-indulgent it's actually ridiculous. Marrying rich is a very real, very serious goal of mine. Hmu for offers serious inquires ONLY <33
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lisired · 2 months
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supermodel
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pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) model!reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, descriptions of vomiting, fluff, unsolicited comments, mentions of alcohol use (not while expectant)
summary: Five years ago, you left your hometown and ex to recreate your identity in California. Now, you're a staple of the fashion industry and on the front cover of magazines everywhere. Your hard work has paid off, but when you realize that you might be pregnant, you have to decide whether you want to be a full-time model or a full-time mother.
word count: 23k
a/n: at last, here she is! thank you for your patience, i know it was a long wait. this is a sequel to love jones. as always, feedback is appreciated!
Smiling from ear to ear, the giddy butterflies in the pit of your stomach just wouldn’t leave. Given that they’d been there for five years, it was safe to assume they never would. 
Five years of romance. To celebrate, you and your boyfriend decided on cooking your own dinner at home. Your boyfriend was not an attentive cook (a couple of distracted incidents and he was strictly prohibited and sidelined from food preparation duties) which made the night both fun and a nightmare. 
When Haechan asked you for dinner suggestions, you were very adamant that you wanted lobster. Which surprised him, given that you’d been to a handful of seafood restaurants and you never expressed a taste for lobster, though he reckoned you wanted to be fancy for your five-year anniversary. 
“Baby,” you whined. “Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?”
“It’s hot because you’re here,” Haechan flirted in a heartbeat. Some things never changed. 
You rolled your eyes, whining, “Seriously. Aren’t you about to burn up? I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Only thing I feel like I might die of is hypothermia. If anything, it’s kinda cold to me, baby.”
You frowned, finding that questionably odd. You had already taken off his insulating leather jacket, left in nothing but a tank top, and you didn’t want to remove any other layers in fear of getting lobster juice all over yourself. Maybe it was a metabolism thing. 
Haechan pointed to your wine glass with his own. “Aren’t you going to drink that? You always want wine.”
Glancing down, you noticed your filled wine glass that you had hardly touched. Even when you were out celebrating with your agent and a couple of other staff, you declined the offer for wine. Your agent was shocked. She knew you loved to get wine drunk. “Not really in the mood.”
If your boyfriend thought that something was out of the ordinary, he didn’t say anything. 
After a while, you started to forget about your suspicious behavior. Time quickly lost its meaning as you chatted with Haechan, running your mouths like the two people who never shut up that you were. To this day you still perfectly matched each other’s energy. Five years down, a lifetime left to go. 
You were twenty-six now, Haechan twenty-eight. Though your grandmother liked to joke that you were catching up to her, sometimes you didn’t feel like you were pushing thirty. Notably when you were with Haechan. His ability to make you feel like a teenager in love needed to be studied.  
In those five years, not only had you developed your relationship with the love of your life, but you also made your name known within the industry. Of course, your success wasn’t without a couple of setbacks and near career-ending allegations, but you somehow came out on top in the end. 
Haechan also had a lucrative career. From being hired to take pictures of lowkey performers on tour to becoming a chief photographer with his own studio that worked with wealthy media moguls, he had obviously come extremely far. And he was only getting more popular amongst affluent patrons. 
All in the span of five years. You never would have guessed. Five years ago, you lived in a condo downtown. Now, you lived in a comfortable house with Haechan and you couldn’t be happier. 
Out of nowhere, you started to feel as if you were going to be sick. You stood from the table, muttering “bathroom” when your boyfriend tossed you a baffled look. 
Haechan let you be. He figured you just had to pee. You were doing that more often for whatever reason. 
Though you tried to be indifferent about the sudden involuntary motions in your stomach, you were quick to make a beeline for the bathroom in fear of vomiting all over the floor. 
You headed straight for the toilet and kneeled on the floor, bracing your hands on the seat while you retched and dry-heaved into the bowl. Your mouth felt almost painfully dry afterwards and all you could taste was the scorching feeling of bile. 
This was absolutely ridiculous and you didn’t understand what was happening to you. Though you weren’t particularly a fan of lobster, you could usually handle seafood. Maybe having Haechan help you cook wasn’t the smartest idea. 
Speak of the devil, he called from the other side of the door, “Baby, you good in there?”
“Uh, no,” you muttered just loud enough for his ears. 
Haechan’s voice sounded alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Wincing at the sight of greenish-yellow vomit, you flushed the toilet and stood to vigorously wash your hands. “I kinda threw up.”
“What? Was it something you ate? Baby, I love your cooking, but I’ve been trying to tell you that all that butter is not good for your stomach.”
“I really don’t think that’s the problem,” you droned irritably. 
Haechan joked, “What - are you pregnant or something?”
Something about those words made you freeze right in the middle of drying your hands with paper towels. Pregnant, you realized. It was all coming back to you. Haechan fucked you raw not too long ago. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had a period. 
Silence was never a good thing for either of you and the worry was evident in Haechan’s voice. “Baby, you’re not actually pregnant. Right?”
Your eyes were wide as you exclaimed, “I don’t know!”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” you said shakily. 
The door opened, Haechan revealing himself. He was quick to notice the panic on your face and grabbed your hand in his, crooning, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, exhaling one large puff of air. “Okay, remember I had my IUD removed?”
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Uh huh.”
“And then I went off the pill because they were giving me migraines,” you added frantically. 
“Yeah, so we started using condoms.”
“Right,” you said, nodding your head. “But that one time we ran out…”
Haechan continued, “And you begged me to fuck you anyway?”
“That’s not the point,” you hissed. “The point is we had sex without a condom, I don’t remember having a period, and now I’m puking everywhere.”
“Well, if two plus two equals four…,” Haechan trailed. 
You snapped, “Can you be serious for once?”
Haechan grabbed your wrist, kissing the back of your hand tenderly to console you. ��I am being serious. I think we should buy a pregnancy test or ten. Just to be certain.”
You reminded, “It’s late. All the pharmacies are closed.”
“Then, we go first thing tomorrow,” was Haechan’s solution. 
His touches were enough to ease your mind for a little. You nodded in acceptance, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was a frightening moment and you were glad that you weren’t alone. 
As soon as the following day, you and Haechan were on your way to a local pharmacy on his motorbike. His red motorbike, might you add. Though the sleek black one was directly involved in a number of good memories, one too many stunts had maimed her. You surprised him with another one for his birthday last year and he fell in love without a second thought. 
The pharmacy was busy at this hour. Though Haechan’s suggestion of getting ten pregnancy tests was somewhat dramatic, you did make sure to grab a couple packs of two. It was better to be safe than sorry, after all. 
You rushed to the bathroom the second you were back home, telling Haechan you would be back after a moment to tell him the results. You were clear that he waited outside the door. Your brain amassed hectic thought after hectic thought and it was driving you crazy. 
Over the next couple of minutes, you sat antsily on the toilet lid and waited. According to the instructions on the box, your fate would be decided in as little as a few minutes. If you waited too long, your results could display inaccuracies. 
You were just so scared. If you were pregnant, that could change everything. Your nerves were worked and you could feel the stress in your shoulders as much as you tried to feign a semblance of order. 
When the three minutes were up, you braced yourself with one big breath and found the courage to check the lines. 
You sucked in a breath. Not a single one was negative. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped. 
“What’s wrong?” Haechan asked frantically, leaning against the door. This was just as nerve-racking for him as it was for you. 
“They’re positive,” you exclaimed. “All four of them!”
That was Haechan’s cue to open the door, immediately grabbing a hold of you. You looked like your weight would drop to the floor any second now. “Okay, babe. Breathe,” he whispered. 
You braced your hands on the counter. “I can’t. This is too much.”
“Sit,” Haechan said, holding you steadily in his arms. Like hell he would let you go in a time like this. 
You sat on the fluffy toilet lid again, your head spinning. Nothing could describe how light your limbs felt in that moment. Or your head. 
“There’s a one percent chance they’re wrong,” Haechan told you in reminder. 
You shook your head. “Really? You think all four of them are wrong?”
Haechan took your tone in stride. “That’s not what I said. What I meant is I think you should contact your doctor. We can’t be too sure.”
Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic. It was the obvious thing to do. The second you calmed down enough to speak without shaky breath you called your health care provider and scheduled an appointment with your physician. 
In a couple of days, you met with your primary physician, Haechan insisting that he wanted to be there. You made no argument. This baby was his just as much as it was yours and he made it a point to remind you that he wanted to be a part of every second. 
For half an hour, the nurse's kind words in between constant beeps as she asked you for medical information was all you heard while your thoughts waged war. Even the faint chatter from the small TV mounted in the corner of the room didn’t register. 
Footsteps jolted you out of your thoughts for a moment and you were a little more at ease when your doctor finally entered the patient room. There was a fleeting, kind greeting and she recounted your concerns as you’d briefed them over the phone just to be sure she was correct. 
It was the most tense moment of your life. Had you not been holding Haechan’s fingers with one hand and bracing the chair with the other, you would have been chewing your nails. 
After a couple of non-invasive tests, a suspenseful few minutes, and a transvaginal prenatal ultrasound, it was concluded that you were seven weeks pregnant. The whole room was reeling. Your doctor told you that she would have to run a few scans to ensure that you weren’t exposed to a high-risk pregnancy, but you could decide within two weeks if you wanted to terminate through medication. 
Not only were you seven weeks pregnant, but seven weeks pregnant with dizygotic twins. Non-identical, your doctor explained. If you preferred, you could come back in three weeks to determine the sex. 
“Twins,” you rasped. “Two babies. Wow.”
Sitting in your car, you gripped the seatbelt with your life. Haechan insisted that you take your car instead of his bike considering that you were more than likely pregnant, and since he didn’t know the risks associated with pregnant mothers on a motorbike, he decided it was better to play it safe. 
Though your doctor revealed that minimum travel within the first few months of your pregnancy was generally not a threat unless you were going a lengthy distance. Much to your boyfriend’s happiness.  
It was quiet while you two sat in the parking lot, save for the Mark Lee song playing faintly on the radio. He was grammy-nominated now. 
There was a long pause before you could speak. Haechan was the same, looking paler than usual. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your head was still stuck in that neutral-toned hospital room and the scent of antiseptics still wafted through your nostrils. 
The whole parking lot was upside down as you fretted, “I’m pregnant. Oh my god. Wow. I’m pregnant!”
“Hey,” Haechan started, reaching over the center console and grabbing your hands in his. There was another pause before he continued speaking. “We’re pregnant.”
Your eyes flickered. Then, you burst into laughter. That was the last thing you expected him to say. 
Haechan was grinning, glad that he could make you laugh even if it was just for a moment. Your doctor was clear that stress was very harmful for the kids. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” you replied. Though you were still giggling. “We’re pregnant.”
“You better know.”
You sighed, leaning against the door window. The ultrasound displayed not one, but two tiny embryos currently sharing your uterus. And they were only growing. 
Handing the ultrasound to Haechan, you let it all sink in, starting, “When I was twenty-one, pregnancy was the last thing on my agenda. Jae wanted to slow down, but I didn’t want to stop. I was just getting started. I mean, I still am, it’s only been five years.”
Haechan flinched at the mention of your ex. It was rare that you brought him up in conversation. For good reason. “And you’ve still accomplished so much.”
“Yeah, but I wanna accomplish more. If I have a baby, I have to take a break from the grind to be a mother. And god forbid I let somebody else raise my kids,” you grumbled. 
Haechan quickly saw what the problem was. “Okay, baby, stop. This isn’t the end. You’re pregnant, but that doesn’t mean you become my housewife and die. I wouldn’t ever try to put the brakes on you.”
“I know, but…”
“Listen,” he said. “We can always make more babies another time. Your life isn’t over.”
You huffed, “I have, like, four years before that ship sails and it’s in god’s hands.”
“Anything could happen in four years.”
You heaved another breath. “True,” you replied. Even two years from now you could decide that you wanted to settle down. 
It just felt like there was so much at stake. You were a model, for fuck’s sake. Very much a celebrity. Not only did you love your job and having two babies mean you would have less time to devote to yourself, but everyone would be watching them the same way they watched you. 
When you went out, there was guaranteed to be a camera not far behind. You couldn’t even get lunch with a friend without being borderline stalked wherever you went. Masks and disguises barely helped.
Anybody that was a friend of yours was a friend of the media. Your whole life was on the internet and there was always a magnifying glass being held close to your face. Every second of your life you were being examined and judged by people who didn’t even know you. Expectations were a constant weight on your shoulders. 
“If I have these kids, I don’t want them to grow up in the eyes of the media,” you started sternly. “I subject myself to judgment and scrutiny every day I step out of my house. Babies don’t deserve that.”
Haechan bobbed his head in agreement. “Then, I watch them. And if I’m busy, then we get a babysitter.”
You huffed, “And trust a stranger with our child?”
The look of horror on Haechan’s face immediately declined that offer. “I’ve got family here. We can pay my cousin or something. Look, baby, we’ll figure this out. Together.”
You squeezed his hand, stifling tears. There was so much weight on your heart. It was almost suffocating until you remembered that you weren’t alone.
For the next couple of weeks, you mulled the decision over. You didn’t tell anyone that you were pregnant - not even your grandmother or Haechan’s parents, who referred to themselves as your in-laws, even though you and Haechan weren’t married. 
That thought tickled something in your brain. Marriage, you hypothesized. And a family. Deep down inside, it was something you always wanted, but you never knew when. You always figured the day would come where you would just know. 
That day had come. 
It isn’t the end of the world, you consoled, having had time to be reasonable with yourself. You were far enough in your career where it wouldn’t weaken your income if you took some time to be lowkey. Haechan, the brainiac that he was, even suggested you endorse baby products. 
Everything felt so earth-shattering to you that you’d been confused into thinking weighing your options meant you only had one choice. Your mind was quick to wander, wondering if that was a symptom of carrying a developing baby. 
You breathed easier when it finally hit you that you didn’t have to choose between the career you loved and starting a family with the man you loved. Because you wanted both and you would have both. Even if it was in moderate amounts. 
At ten weeks, you were back in the doctor’s office to determine the sex of your babies. Haechan was hoping for boys while you were hoping for girls. Imagine your shock when Doctor Stakes congratulated you on carrying a boy and girl. 
By the end of the first trimester, you decided that you would be keeping the babies and your career. Haechan was both over the moon and a little anxious knowing that he would be a first-time father. Neither of you knew what you were doing and that made it as scary as it was exciting. 
Still, nobody knew. Outside of your symptoms, it wasn’t too obvious. Your baby bump wasn’t very big yet. 
“No smoking, no drinking, no hot tubs or saunas, moderate caffeine intake, no raw seafood,” you grumbled, recalling Doctor Stakes’ very detailed explanations of what was and was not healthy during your pregnancy. 
“Well,” Haechan started, plopping down on your shared mattress. “She did say we could still have lots of sex.”
You immediately rolled your eyes. “I believe her exact words were sex will not hurt our babies as long as my pregnancy is without health complications and I don’t start to experience bleeding, high blood pressure, and premature contractions.”
Haechan gently grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, retorting, “You look fine to me. How do you feel?”
“Good,” you sighed, getting comfortable on his thighs. “Different, but not bad different. Good.”
Haechan leaned into your ear and purred, “Which translates into good for lots of sex.”
You playfully hit him, pretending to be irritated. You knew he was only kidding. Kind of. 
Doctor Stakes was straightforward but thorough in her explanations, walking you through the route of pregnancy with more than a couple of recommendations prioritizing the best potential health of you and your unborn babies. She said that sex was perfectly fine during the first five through six months. Something about your babies being cushioned by your abdomen and amniotic sac fluid.
Whatever the hell that is, you remembered thinking. She also suggested you enroll in a parenting class just so that you knew what to expect. It was not rare for first-time parents to take them and they were apparently super helpful. 
It seemed strict, but you knew it was best for your children’s development, especially in the early stages. Though you would miss the freedom of your old life. “I kind of miss alcohol just because I can’t have it.”
“I’m not giving you any,” Haechan said, voice stern. 
You snorted. “I wasn’t asking. I’m not an idiot. It’s just… this is my life now. It’s gonna be hard.”
Kissing your cheek tenderly, Haechan replied, “Well, if you can’t drink, I won’t drink either.”
That surprised you and you wanted to know if he was joking or not. “Seriously?”
“Duh,” Haechan said. “Like I said, we’re pregnant. Anything you can’t have, shit, I can’t have it either. I guess we’re both abstaining.”
“You don’t have to,” you whispered, though you liked the idea of him doing it anyway. It made your heart flutter. 
Haechan shrugged. “Yeah, but I would feel like a dickhead for enjoying things that I know you can’t have right in your face. Besides, my liver is probably screaming ‘thank god.’”
You snickered, bringing your lips to his. That turned you on. You couldn’t even explain it. There was just something so hot and attractive about the words leaving his mouth and you decided you wanted him. 
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you quickly tangled yourself in thoughts of him and him only; like a stimulant that only got more lethal with every hit. Sometimes it did feel that way. Like pleasure of this magnitude was too mind-numbing to be free. 
Innocent touches became gestures of desperation. Haechan kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, hands zipping to your tender breasts while you looped your arms around his neck. He somehow only got better at kissing. You didn’t even know how that could happen. 
Almost like you brought out the best in each other. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes snapping open. 
Haechan instantly noticed and was quick to halt his actions in case he was causing you discomfort. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just my boobs… They’re a little sore.”
Haechan chirped, “Nothing I can’t take care of.”
You giggled when he carefully lowered your weight onto the bed, lifting your shirt above your head and quickly getting rid of your bra. A moan left you when he caught a nipple in his mouth, gently kneading the other one in his hand. 
There was something so addictive about the feeling of your boyfriend’s warm mouth on your body. You couldn’t help but exhale and moan, just comforted by the fact that he was supplying you warmth. His hands wandered, too, always soft and tender. Whatever moisturizer he was using was doing god’s work. 
“Babe,” you sighed out. Both your mind and body were relaxed and that was exactly what you needed, all things considered. 
His tongue passed over your erect nipples, feeling them harden at his touch. Your boyfriend’s goal was to make you feel completely worshiped and he was doing a great job, for lack of a better word. Given that you were the one responsible for carrying and birthing two babies, he concluded that god could only be a woman. 
But you were getting way too worked up and it was driving you to the edge. “Baby,” you called. “I want more.”
There was an erotic wet sound when Haechan pulled away from your boobs. “Are you sure? I was just kidding about the whole sex thing earlier.”
“No you weren’t.”
“No I wasn’t.”
You snorted. Classic Haechan. 
Haechan quickly sobered again, whispering, “But I still wanna make sure this is what you want.”
You appreciated his concern, but the longer you waited, the quicker the heat pulsed between your legs and you couldn’t shake it anymore. “Haechan, I literally could not be more sure when I say I need your cock inside me.”
King of playing it cool that he was, Haechan pretended that those words weren’t like throwing gasoline on a field of already blazing thoughts. At least until he got inside you. Then, he had no thoughts. Brain empty. And he couldn’t help but bare his soul to you. 
Pussy made him talk. There was absolutely nothing that he could hide when he was balls deep inside you. 
Haechan shifted between your thighs, thanking god that you decided to wear a skirt today. His patience was wearing thin by the second and knowing how much you wanted him only strengthened his need. 
You could only feel your heart thumping and his body heat wafting over you. Other things seemed so much smaller and irrelevant than they were. 
Your panties came off with a yank and your glistening folds had Haechan’s undivided attention. “Shit, you’re so wet. I didn’t even do anything,” he said marvelously. 
“Shut up,” you huffed, though it wasn’t sincere. Little things about him being committed to being a father turned you on. He didn’t understand how scary it was to be alone. 
Haechan chuckled. “As you wish.”
You knew it wouldn’t be too long before he opened his mouth again and you weren’t complaining. 
Overcome with want and the need to do something, you lifted yourself up and crawled towards Haechan to help him undress his pants down his legs. Haechan let you do as much, but the second his bare cock was out, he was gently pushing you back down.
You pouted, lips tucking out. “I wanna do something.”
When you were comfortably on your back, Haechan started to rub his cock. “No,” he said, borderline teasing. “You can lay here and let me take care of you.”
His cock had your attention, your eyes fixed to how hard he was. “Okay.”
Haechan parted your legs again, gentler than typical. “On the plus side,” he started, holding his dick between your thighs. “I can’t get you pregnant if you’re already pregnant.”
You quipped, “That’s actually not impossible. Something called superfetation. I heard about it a couple of months ago after searching on Google for too long. It’s super rare, though. Don’t worry.”
“I am about to superfetate this pussy,” Haechan groaned, obnoxious.
“You’re turning me off.”
Haechan laughed. 
After a moment of coating himself in your wetness and hearing your soft moans, Haechan decided he couldn’t take it anymore and slowly penetrated you. His jaw unhitched, more than a couple of sounds escaping him. 
You weren’t any better. He just made you feel so full. You liked when he made it seem like it was only the two of you and you existed for each other. 
Haechan was painfully hard inside you and desperate to move, though not before he said without room for argument, “Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts.”
You simply just nodded. There was nothing you wouldn’t do if it got him to fuck your brains out. 
Then, Haechan started to move. His hands were on your hips, serving as an anchor so that he wouldn’t lose himself completely as he drowned in your wet pussy. In a similar manner, you braced your hands on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. 
You were gazing at Haechan with one fatal combination of love and lust. They couldn’t be separated. Not after all the things that had been done and all the words that had been said. All you knew was that you had bared your body to him in the same way you’d bared your heart. 
“Baby, don’t stop,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop.” There was a pressure building inside the walls wedged between your legs and it only came out when he was steadily rocking his hips into you. 
The whole room suddenly seemed a thousand degrees hotter and Haechan couldn’t breathe, exhaling loudly with labored breath. He couldn’t take that your pussy was so warm and tight, grumbling, “Fuck,” in between moans, smacking his hips into yours uncontrollably. 
For a half second, you made eye contact with Haechan, just before he was sucking at the pulse on your collarbone and you couldn’t help but cry out his name, his chest creating friction against yours just enough to not be uncomfortable. 
Haechan willed himself not to tighten his grip at the arc of your hips for the sheer reason that he didn’t want to hurt you. Not only did he not want to hurt you any more than you asked for, but the reminder that his children were growing inside your belly made him treat you like you were fragile. 
He wanted to ask you to marry him, but he was terrified that it was way too soon. This pregnancy wasn’t even planned. You would probably have a heart attack if he asked for your hand in marriage. He was no stranger to being chided for moving too quickly, though it was just his nature. 
Little did he know, you loved that about him. He could come off too strong sometimes, but beneath his fast jumps to get started was a zealous boy with big hopes for the future. 
“I love you,” Haechan whispered, lips brushing against your skin. 
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his again. “I love you. You’re my everything.”
“You’re my everything and then some,” Haechan flirted. 
“You’re my everything and everything in between.”
Haechan started, “You’re my everything and…”
All it took was a kiss to the lips to effectively shut him up, grabbing his head and steering him closer to you. Like you weren’t already skin to skin. You sucked his tongue in your mouth, moaning at how his cock hit your sweet spot. 
You were just so consumed by him - entirely. Though you knew that there was no closer the two of you could be, you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 
Haechan’s hands wandered up to grab a handful of your breasts, gently squeezing the soft skin in his palms. He couldn’t get enough of the way you panted and sighed at his touch. There was no need for oxygen when he had you and he kissed you breathlessly until he thought he was going to die. 
Haechan exhaled with his mouth hanging open, “You cheated.” His lips were perfectly swollen, the sight winning a smile out of you. 
You giggled. 
With how your walls were kneading and gushing around his cock, Haechan knew that he wouldn’t last. His mouth watered at the thought of coming inside you since it had been so long ago. That one time just short of two months ago excluded, obviously. Though he hadn’t meant for it to happen. 
But first and foremost Haechan wanted to get you off and he steered a hand between your legs, thumbing your clit. You squirmed instantly, sensitive. 
Little moans of his name kept escaping from your lips. “Haechan, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” you warned, though rocked your hips into his to match his pace. The pleasure was different from before and the intimacy was even more intense. 
Haechan chuckled breathlessly, staving off his orgasm for as long as he could. “That’s the point, baby.” 
There was a resoundingly wet squelch as Haechan continued to bulldoze his cock into your cunt, breezing through the air. Your hands flew to your face as you covered yourself, embarrassed, but he pulled them away just as quick. “Don’t hide.”
“Don’t you hear that? I’m embarrassed,” you blurted. 
Haechan shook his head, peering down at you with misty eyes, and growled, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You were breathless. Haechan silenced you by capturing your lips in one incapacitating kiss and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second.
He made it too easy to forget. Forget the all-consuming worries of eventual childbirth. The threat of kissing everything you’d ever known and wanted goodbye. And the fear of raising a child that might end up making the same mistakes as you. 
No words left your mouth as you parted your lips in a silent scream, trembling with the pressure of orgasm. You were a total disaster - you couldn’t stop moving, shaking and grinding yourself onto him even as your orgasm aggressively passed. 
Your orgasm ripped the soul out of you without leaving anything behind in a merciless act of overkill and you only slacked onto the mattress when it felt completely over. You heaved for breath, almost like you would never breathe again. You had never felt anything so vigorously. Every thought vacated your brain. 
Haechan was obviously not far behind - if the frequent pitched moans you were milking out of him were any indication - and you were borderline begging him to fill you again. This was a different strain of desperation than the kind that got you pregnant. This was more lethal. 
Your walls were pulsing around him and Haechan couldn’t take it, hissing your name when he came with a sharp cry. His hips didn’t still until he rode out his high, both of you moaning in a delighted sync when his cum dripped. 
“Fuck,” Haechan sighed, finally noticing how fast his heart was pounding against his chest. 
You started, “That was…”
“Intense,” Haechan finished. 
You nodded in agreement. Though it was enjoyable nonetheless. 
The two of you just sat there and wallowed in the afterhighs of sex for a bit. You were too exhausted to move and Haechan didn’t want to leave you alone. He spooned you in his arms for a total of fifteen minutes while the two of you chatted incessantly until you decided you finally had mustered enough strength. 
Time was a blur when Haechan helped you to your feet - not that you needed it yet - and led you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run the shower for both of you. After playfully washing each other’s backs, you went back to the bedroom clad in nothing but towels. 
For once, it was comfortably silent when you slipped back into bed. Then, to your surprise, Haechan started to cry. You gasped, “You’re crying!”
Hot tears stung Haechan’s eyes. Few things brought him to literal tears. He was just so over-thrilled to be the father of your babies. “Yeah.”
You cradled his face in your hands, kissing his lips. “We’re making two babies. We’re going to be parents. For the next eighteen years, they’re going to be our most paramount priority.”
Haechan knew that. You weren’t the only one that was going to be taking a step back from the grind, at least until you both grew a little more familiar with the parenting life. His decreased hours were non-negotiable and it helped that he was one of the co-owners. 
Not only was he going to be a father, but he needed to take time to be an even more devoted partner to you. Both of you were responsible for these children and the very last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were carrying the weight by yourself.
Wiping the tears out of his blurry eyes, Haechan said, “I can’t believe you let a guy like me get you pregnant.”
You furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not exactly the type of dude people look at and go ‘he’s going to make an incredible father.’”
You liked that Haechan was being vulnerable with you. He started doing it more often ever since he realized that his indifference could drive you away. His feelings were deeper than he tended to lead on. When it came to you, he was an open book. 
“You’re going to make an incredible father. There. I said it,” you whispered. 
Haechan smiled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. That was all he needed to hear. 
At sixteen weeks, your baby bump still wasn’t protruding even though you were definitely carrying twins. Doctor Stakes reassured you that everybody’s journey was different and your pregnant belly very well might not pop up until the end of the second trimester. 
And since you hadn’t announced that you were pregnant (you were conflicted), you working was still fully expected. Nobody asked questions. You considered yourself pretty damn slick. 
That was, until your agent knocked on your trailer while the crew were breaking. She was a down-to-earth, middle-aged woman named Patricia. 
“Hey,” you greeted, letting her inside. “Something wrong?”
Shutting the trailer door with a thud (this particular company tended to have faulty trailer doors), Mrs. Patricia shook her head gently. “Not particularly. I was curious about something and I wanted to speak with you woman to woman.”
That had your undivided attention. You set down the water bottle you’d been gulping back and prompted, “Yes?”
Mrs. Patricia started, “Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but… are you expecting?”
You blinked. “Is it obvious?”
“It’s in your nose.”
Your hand went up to your nose and you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my nose?”
She gave you a look that sternly told you to lower your voice and replied levelly, “There is nothing wrong with your nose, but it is swollen.”
You had no idea what she was talking about and it was evident on your face. 
Mrs. Patricia explained, “Fluid retention. I had a swollen nose and hands during my pregnancy with my twenty-year-old, but it went away after my postpartum period.”
“Oh,” you replied quietly. 
“Congratulations, by the way. I think you would benefit from following up on the symptoms of pregnancy, just so that you know what to expect,” she suggested. “Again, I don’t mean to overstep.”
Though your mind was at a billion different places, you forced a smile and said, “No, it’s okay - thank you!”
But the second you came home, you were a different person. 
“Babe,” you called out, setting your keys in the tray near the door. Haechan told you that he would be home by now and you saw his motorbike parked in the garage. “Babe!”
Given the distance, his voice was faint, but you heard a faraway, “I’m coming!”
You stood there and patiently removed your shoes while you waited. There were now a handful of other things weighing on your mind and you didn’t know how to handle it by yourself. 
Haechan zipped downstairs, pleased to see you at the end of a long day. His hair was a beautiful mess at the top of his head and you could only guess he had been playing video games with Jaemin and Mark. 
Not that you were concerned about any of that right now. 
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” Haechan asked, coming up to you to trap you in a bear hug. Like he did everyday. 
But you weren’t at all in the mood for any of it, ignoring his question completely. “Is my nose swollen?”
That obviously wasn’t what Haechan thought you were going to say. “Huh?”
“You heard me.”
Haechan drew back, realizing you were in one of your moods again. Doctor Stakes mentioned that you were prone to mood swings and he would just have to deal with it in the gentlest way he could. “I mean, I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s a little...”
“Oh my fucking god,” you exclaimed, stepping around him and bolting for the kitchen. 
Haechan was hot on your heels. “Babe, wait up!”
You threw open the snack pantry door, scanning them for your favorite chips, before remembering that you finished the bag last night. “Fuck, I forgot to order from the store!”
The words were right on his tongue, though Haechan knew better than to tell you to calm down. He was no stranger to your temper. His voice was level, calm. “We can always order more.”
Fresh tears dampened your face, burning while they blurred your vision. Reality was a mean little bitch with a hard punch. “Damn the chips! I can’t believe this.”
Haechan assumed it was a model thing. They were strict about your appearance and you always had to look a certain way. It was part of the reason why he never saw your career as an option for himself, though he wasn’t going to snitch about your junk food indulgence. 
Tentatively reaching out for you, Haechan kissed your face and cooed, “Hey, baby, listen to my voice. Your body is going to change. The doc said that’s completely normal. It’s nothing to lose your shit over.”
“It’s everything to lose my shit over!” you wailed. “I’m not mad about my fucking nose - I’m mad because I know nothing about bringing a baby into this world and I’m going to be a shit mother!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” Haechan told you, stern but still tranquil. You wholeheartedly envied it. 
“It’s true,” you huffed, sinking against the refrigerator. “My nose is swollen. I literally didn’t even know that was a thing! If I don’t know minor fucking details, how am I going to know how to parent?”
While you knew your agent had no foul intentions by commenting about your nose and there wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, you wished she would have kept it to herself. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t have this under control. This baby-making shit was not your strong suit. 
Other than the sex itself, although that was the last thing on your mind right now. 
It was completely unexpected for Haechan’s voice to drop the way it did. You had never seen him so serious. “We can take classes. Doctor Stakes recommended them, you know.”
You grumbled, “Why didn’t Doctor Stakes tell me that I was going to get a new nose?”
“She did, actually. Something about…”
“Fluid retention, I know. My agent told me,” you replied snappily. You were finally calming down, though hardly. Pregnancy came with its fair share of frustrations. Though it was also accompanied by the lack of energy to express them all. 
Haechan helped you off the ground, clearing your face of any tears with his thumb. “Is she the one that commented on your nose?”
You shrugged your shoulders but answered, “Yeah.”
“I think your agent should mind her bitter, decrepit business,” Haechan spat, though his tone was completely noncommittal. 
You snorted. “She’s not bad, Haechan.”
“I don’t care. It’s bad manners.”
You couldn’t argue with that. But it was nothing worth getting a new manager over and if anything you would just talk to her about boundaries. The only reason she was even on set was because you wanted her there. 
“The point is,” Haechan started, grabbing your hands and locking your fingers in his. “Every problem has a fix. I don’t know shit about this, either. You think I’ve been a father before? Must I remind you that you’re the only girl I’ve ever came inside of?”
You folded your arms. “And the only one you ever will.”
Haechan snickered, bobbing his head. You were lightening up and he could breathe a little easier. “Yes. And the only one I ever will.”
You let out a shaky breath. Though you still felt like ripping your hair out, you no longer felt the need to scream. Your lungs had had enough for one night. “Fine.”
“We’ll take classes together. I already managed my hours, so I’ve got time. You should tell the people you work for that you’re pregnant,” Haechan suggested.
You nodded. His constant touches killed your doubts again. Ultimately, they were no match against the love of your life. “How are you so nonchalant about this?”
Haechan shrugged like he had absolutely zero clue. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” He was internally panicking, but excellent at hiding it. Always had been. 
You hummed. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing ever. 
“And by the way, you’re beautiful. Swollen nose or not,” Haechan said. “I think it’s cute.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cute?”
“Yeah. Fits your face.” 
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to put up with a hysterical pregnant lady,” you droned. 
Haechan didn’t try to deny it. Instead, he decided to lighten the mood, chirping, “Well, that’s what I get for being silly and not wrapping my willy.”
You forced your lips into a line, fighting a laugh. “That’s so stupid.”
“No glove, no love,” Haechan persisted, eager to get a laugh out of you. He wanted to see your shoulders shake and your nose do that cute thing it always did when you laughed at his jokes.
You playfully exclaimed, “Quit it!”
“You can’t go wrong if you shield your dong.”
That was the last blow your self-restraint could take and you finally burst out laughing like he wanted you to. 
Haechan was sporting a triumphant smile. He was always glad to put a smile on your face. Even (especially) for the most idioticly absurd of reasons. 
Your outburst eventually fizzled out and you thought back on something he said a couple of minutes ago, musing aloud, “Speaking of telling people that I’m pregnant, we haven’t told the clique.”
Haechan nodded. “I haven’t even told my parents. They’re gonna be so mad we waited almost twenty weeks. My mom’s been nagging me about when she can expect grandkids.”
“We should have a party. Get the gang in town and host a gathering at your parents’ house or something,” you proposed. 
Haechan’s brows furrowed. “Like a gender reveal party?”
You winced. “Goodness, no. Just, like, I don’t know. A pregnancy reveal party. But they can guess if they want.”
That wasn’t the best idea. Mark and Ryujin would probably have opposite guesses and flip the table over. Grabbing your wrist to press a kiss to the back of your hand, Haechan said, “Well, you know Mark’s been in Canada for the past two months and Winter is everywhere, but I’ll see what we can do.”
You didn’t want to get your hopes up - nowadays it was rare for all of you to be in town at the same time - but that had you excited. You couldn’t wait to share the good news. “I had another idea, too,” you whispered softly. 
Haechan led you to the living room so that you could sit down and asked, “What’s that?” 
Once you were off your feet, you played coy and confessed, “We should have a photoshoot at your studio when my bump gets big. Just me, you, and the two babies in my belly. A grand reveal to the entire world that I’m officially a mother.”
“Sold,” Haechan hummed in approval.
You couldn’t stop smiling. A part of you couldn’t wait for it to happen. Doctor Stakes mentioned that it could feel like your stomach grew out of nowhere. 
Within the next couple of days, you communicated with your consultants and the management at your agency and notified them of your pregnancy. You divulged that you were sixteen weeks along and fully intended to be a mother to your children. 
And in no uncertain terms. Given the flexibility of your schedules and hectic hours, they agreed that it was only fair you took off as much as you took on. You were offered six months, which you accepted thankfully, and were told to inform them when you would be starting two weeks in advance. 
When you delivered the news to Haechan, he couldn’t contain his excitement. Everyday the ongoing reminder of your looming childbirth settled in. His kids were developing inside your womb. He was going to be a father. You were going to raise two kids together in your shared home and every time he realized, he fell more and more in love with the thought. 
Only a few weeks later you were at his parents’ house watching Haechan and his father set up from the kitchen. Though you wanted to at least help with the baking, his mother was unshakeable in her ways and rigidly told you to sit and not move. 
She wanted her grandkids delivered in the best possible health. His parents were enthusiastic to discover that you were pregnant, though not without slight scolding. But they weren’t against a celebration. 
“I knew it. You know, a mother always knows,” his mother had told you while her son and his father were in the living room. 
You heard a knock at the front door a couple of hours later and separated from Haechan who was making out with you while his parents weren’t looking to greet your friends. The first person you heard was Mark. 
“What up,” Mark exclaimed when he strolled inside like he owned the place. 
Ryujin wasn’t far behind, obviously, but behind her was her boyfriend, Sunwoo. Every now and then, you were reminded that the guy actually existed, although he had come home from Chicago years ago. 
You gave them each kind hugs. “Hi, guys. Long time, no see.”
Ryujin spat, “Mark gets a Grammy nom that he didn’t even win and acts like he’s too cool for us now.”
“God forbid a man gets busy and goes to his home country,” Mark droned in stride. “Besides, I’ll get it next year.”
You nodded in approval. That was the spirit. 
“It’s good to see you, man,” Haechan said, pulling Mark in for a brief hug after doing the same with Sunwoo and Ryujin. 
Mark patted him on the back. “Same, dude. It’s good to have all of us together again.”
Sunwoo picked up some candies that were collecting dust in a bowl on the coffee table. “Are these peanut butter?”
“Yup,” you retorted. 
He quickly sat it back down.
Ryujin explained dryly, “He’s allergic.”
Pinching Haechan’s arm, you gave him a stern look, knowing he was on the verge of a snicker. 
You remembered something and mentioned to Mark, “Oh, by the way, I’ve been hearing your new single on the radio. It’s really good.”
There was a faint blush across Mark’s cheeks. “Thanks,” he chirped. 
“I did the cover art,” Ryujin added. 
Mark whined, “Why can’t you ever let me have my moment?”
You chuckled. It was good to have them all back. Other than Sunwoo, you were pretty updated on what they all had going on and though it drove them out of the city sometimes, you were endlessly happy for them. Mark was obviously the next big thing and was busy making global hits, touring the seven seas. 
On the other hand, Ryujin worked from home more often than not, typically only leaving California to go on vacation. She did art commissions notably for wealthy patrons and pitched in with Mark’s creative team whenever needed. 
Chaewon was also frequently home, owning a hair and nail salon here and all. You and Winter definitely took pictures and credited her in your Instagrams stories. Speaking of Winter, she was everywhere, much like you. More than once, you collaborated in a photoshoot or went to Paris Fashion Week together. 
Which left Jaemin. He was much more lowkey. After giving his master's degree last year, he finally started to work as a mechanical engineer. You couldn’t believe how smart he was, having skipped a grade and all. 
The others showed up a little later. Your stomach was turning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to get the news off of your chest. You smiled when Haechan looped an arm around your waist, almost like he could sense your whirlwind of feelings. 
Some dancing and singing at the top of your lungs later and your worries were promptly forgotten. Chaewon, Winter, and Ryujin danced with you while the boys were laughing in their own circle. The whole room was entirely too chaotic and Haechan’s parents escorted themselves out minutes ago. 
Now it was time for the kids to really party. 
Mark, under the impression that this party was just a small get-together for friends who didn’t get to see each other often, glanced at you and asked, “Okay, rum, tequila, or vodka?”
You winced. “Oh, no. I can’t.”
Mark gaped. “What? I’m on tour for a few months and now you don’t drink?”
“Yeah, um, about that,” you said, gesturing for Haechan to cut down the music. “I have something to tell you guys.”
“You’re taking care of your acne? You’re breaking out more than usual,” Mark blurted without malice. 
Haechan cocked him a glare, deadpanning, “You know, Mark, it amazes me how you can always be so close yet so far away.”
Everyone was gazing at you with baffled looks. Then, you set your hand on your stomach, and it clicked. Mark gasped, “Don’t tell me…”
“I’m pregnant,” you announced, giggling when Haechan curled his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. 
He was quick to correct, “We’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” you said with a chuckle. “We’re pregnant.”
The nerves were back with a vengeance. You knew they were all going to have distinct reactions and the anticipation was killing you. You thought they might have chided you for being stupid. 
As it turned out, there was a chorus of excited noises and “congratulations” that you could hardly make out. Everybody was trying to speak over each other and you had to add, “Okay, one at a time. Please.”
Chaewon wasn’t shocked, almost like she expected it to happen, but had her hands on her hips in her typical fashion. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant?”
You winced. “Sorry.” Expected backlash, you thought. 
“It’s okay,” she said, shoving Haechan out of the way to pull you in for a hug. Much to his annoyance. “I’m so happy for you.”
You chuckled at the sound of Haechan huffing from beside you. “Thanks.”
Mark was next. There were literal twinkles in his eyes. “I’m going to be an uncle?”
“Absolutely. Your niece and nephew are going to love you,” you retorted happily. 
Winter gasped, “You’re having twins?”
You bobbed your head. “Yes. One girl, one boy. We both wanted different things so I guess that was the universe’s way of being a diplomat.”
Winter snorted in amusement. She could already guess what your preferences were. “Oh, wow. Congratulations. Jaemin and I definitely aren’t having kids, so I’m cool with being the rich auntie.”
“Mm, three rich aunties. They’re going to be so lucky,” you dragged. 
Haechan droned, “And extremely spoiled.”
You giggled.
Sunwoo and Ryujin walked up to you. Ryujin was staring at you in adoration. “Have you painted the nursery? If not, can I please help?”
That was an absolute no-brainer. “We haven’t done a lot of things. We need as much help as we can get.”
Sunwoo glanced between you and Haechan and said, “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, man,” Haechan said, holding out his hand. 
Sunwoo firmly shook your boyfriend’s hand. Then, he looked to Ryujin, parting his lips to speak, and she snapped with a shake of her head, “Nope. Never.”
Sunwoo frowned. 
You giggled. It didn’t take a genius to understand he was about to ask her about having kids someday. 
Jaemin looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. Though, he had to admit it made sense. You and Haechan just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. “You’re pregnant?”
“Very.” 
“Wow,” he replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I thought we had enough Haechan walking around.”
“Dude, I’ll kick your ass,” Haechan hissed. 
Jaemin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Kick my ass after the party’s over.”
Winter wandered over again, a drink in her hand, and quipped, “You know, this whole time I thought you were going to get Haechan pregnant.”
That got a giggle out of you. “No worries. I’m gonna peg him tonight.”
Haechan was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 
While you went to go find Chaewon and whisper something in her that made a smile crawl its way onto her lips, Haechan and Jaemin excused themselves from the room for a minute. 
The garage was hot and stuffy, a stark contrast from the ventilated and free energy of the party, but it was the perfect place to have a private conversation ideally without any unwanted listeners. 
Haechan mounted one of his dad’s old bikes (his father was still an avid bike fan no matter how long it had been since he rode one). He wasn’t going anywhere, but he needed a distraction. 
Holding a beer, Jaemin nudged his best friend and asked, “You don’t want a drink?”
“No, I can’t,” Haechan replied, voice distant.
Suit yourself, Jaemin thought. Then, thinking back to something you said, he teased, “Guess she was serious about that pegging shit, huh?”
Haechan snapped, “Do I ask you how you’re fucking Winter?”
Jaemin made a face before downing what was left of his beer. “Good point, my friend.”
Haechan was obviously in his head, which meant nothing good. As always. He wasn’t unhappy - the opposite, rather - but this was one of those days where everything felt unreal. 
If there was anything he knew, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. His little voice in his head snapped, Damn eighteen fucking years. You were his until he died. 
The silence was getting off-putting, thus Jaemin started, “So, a baby.”
“Yeah,” Haechan answered blankly. It was almost like he wasn’t ever there. His surroundings be damned. 
Jaemin was officially miffed. “You wanted to come out here to talk to me about something, man. Open up, brother. What’s on your mind?”
Haechan shook his head. He was in desperate need of direction. He huffed, “I don’t know, bro. I’ve never felt shit like this before.”
That piqued Jaemin’s attention. All he could think of was how badly his brother in everything but blood needed a drink or a cigarette, though he correctly assumed he was abstaining for your sake. “Like what?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t explain it. I mean, I put a baby in her,” Haechan started, conflicted. “Two babies. You know that we wavered a long time before she decided that she wanted to keep them?”
“Well, I do now.”
Haechan’s features were tensed in his typical pensive gaze. “I support her regardless of what her decision would have been, and I made sure she knew that, but I was secretly hoping that she wanted to keep it. Because I realized what I wanted.”
Jaemin prompted, “What do you want?”
“Everything. I wanna do the whole nine. I wanna start a family with her. I wanna pick up the kids after school. Make the three of them breakfast in the morning. I wanna spend every second of my life next to her. When I die, I want to be buried next to her grave.”
Jaemin tilted his head with suspicion. “Haechan, do you wanna marry her?”
“Yeah. I wanna marry her,” Haechan answered. He was finally confirming it - aloud. “Is it too soon?”
“That’s not for me to decide,” Jaemin said kindly. 
Haechan sighed. 
Jaemin gave him a pat to the shoulder and added, “Hey, bro. The worst she can say is ‘no.’”
There was a war-waging storm inside of Haechan. He was prepared to kiss the ground that you walked on. “She’s the mother of my babies…,” he trailed. 
Though Haechan tried to blink his tears away, his emotions and love for his family was too goddamn strong. His heart beated for the three of you. This paternal responsibility added a brand new meaning to his life. A different purpose. 
Jaemin noticed his best friend’s tears and immediately opened his arms. “Dude, come here.”
Haechan marched over and let Jaemin sweep him into a borderline aggressive hug. There was thunder in his heart and he could feel it shaking everything he’d ever known. This kind of euphoria was foreign to him, but he never wanted it to stop. 
When he pulled back, Haechan wiped his face and muttered, “Don’t tell them I cried.”
Jaemin snickered, patting his friend on the back. “Don’t worry, man. I got you for life. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Haechan blew out a shaky breath. “By the way, my girlfriend and I talked, and we decided that we want you to be the godfather.”
Jaemin pointed to himself with his finger. “Me? Why not Mark? What do I know about god?”
Haechan snickered. “Think of it as being the highest ranking uncle.”
“I like that. Uncle Jaemin. It’s got a nice ring to it,” Jaemin replied, nodding with approval. 
“What about Dad?”
Jaemin grimaced. “That’s not funny. I have nightmares about that.”
Haechan laughed. 
As soon as that was over, Haechan and Jaemin slipped back into the party so naturally it was almost as if nothing ever happened. He found you sipping on an iced tea in an attempt to quench your thirst. 
You cocked a brow at him. “Everything okay?”
Haechan bobbed his head. Then, he stole your glass out of your hands and took a sip, much to your annoyance. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just asking,” you replied, snatching your drink back. 
Tempted to giggle, Haechan held it back when a thought crossed his mind. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“I know.” You also knew his secret, familiarized with the little gleam in his stare, though you decided against mentioning it. 
Haechan grinned, taking your available hand in his, and asked, “Wanna dance?”
“I was wondering when you would ask,” you retorted, setting down your glass and leading him to the center of the floor. 
Heat fluttered in your chest when you felt Haechan get closer to you. With his hands at your hips and yours at his shoulders the two of you started to sway around the floor, earning a number of exhilarated noises from your friends in the room. 
But it still felt like it was just you two, like it did all those years ago when you realized for the first time that there was something so different about him. For lack of a better word, he was just so mesmerizing. You remembered wanting to know everything there was about him. 
Bliss made you close your eyes and make a wish to the stars, hoping for an eternity with the man you loved and the life you made together as partners. 
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sunwoo excuse himself from this fascinatingly beautiful moment to accept a phone call. Not that you minded. You were entranced in that moment and everything else had little consequence. Your heart was dancing inside your chest and on the floor. 
Haechan pressed a kiss to your brow, looking at you with total undeniable affection. His eyes were sparkling again though not with tears - with adoration. This man would steal the moon for you and then proceed to wish on every star for a thousand more moons to gift you. 
Only if he knew that there was an impending danger he should’ve wished away. 
Sunwoo entered the room again and walked towards the two of you, which made you both stop and curiously gaze at him before he said, “It’s for you.”
You were baffled. “Who is it?”
“Jeno.”
Haechan’s face paled. 
Without thinking, you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, then said less than amicably, “Hello?”
Jeno’s voice was quick to fill your ears, an air of surprise to his tone when he spoke your name. “Hey. Don’t hang up, please.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” you hissed. 
The room was silent while you talked. The music was cut again and everybody’s eyes were fixed to you, watching this phone call unfold with interest. Nobody dared to say a word, but the disdainful feelings were pretty much obvious. The anger in Haechan’s eyes almost matched the ire in yours. 
“Because I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” you repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Jeno sighed from wherever the hell he was. “Listen, I want to talk, but I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere.”
“Just a second,” you replied, handing Sunwoo back his phone while you dragged Haechan over to a corner. 
Judging from the mere force of your actions, you were clearly upset and it didn’t take a genius to point that out. Haechan was ready to pummel this guy to the ground for your sake. “What happened? What did he say?”
“He wants to meet up. I guess he wants to apologize,” you whispered.
Haechan exclaimed, “What?”
You put your finger to his lip. “He said that he was sorry.”
Frustration made Haechan cross his arms with a mean-looking scowl on his lips as he huffed, “And you want to entertain this fool?”
You shrugged. You were obviously angry and feigning indifference, covered head to toe in unadulterated rage, but there was something in you that wanted to give Jeno the benefit of the doubt. “Call it curiosity. But I’m not going out pregnant. I’m not ready for the world to know yet.”
“Okay, so I go.”
You had already thought of that, pondering all your options in a five-minute time span, but quickly responded, “Yeah, but I kind of wanna be there when shit goes down. How about we invite him over?”
Haechan was seething. “You want to invite him over to the house where we’re going to raise our son and daughter?”
“We need a bigger house anyways,” you answered flatly, exhaling a breath. 
“Bigger than ours?”
“Bigger than ours.”
Haechan frowned for a moment, though after a moment or two of contemplation, he relented. “Fine. But I want to do all the negotiating.”
You bobbed your head. “Fair.”
Haechan politely asked Sunwoo for his phone again, then switched on a dime when he spoke sharply, “Hello?”
Neither of you could see the way Jeno’s eyes flickered with shock. “Haechan.”
Haechan snapped, “Don’t give me that shit, man. Did you change your number?”
Jeno faltered with confusion. “No?”
“Good. I’m going to text you our address. You’re going to be at our front door step tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock sharp or else you’ll be turned away at the door. And you better tell me something I want to hear or I’m kicking your ass.”
There was a lull of silence as Jeno processed those words. 
Haechan immediately added, “Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Goodbye,” Haechan said, promptly hanging up the phone and returning it to its owner. 
Mark was not shockingly the first to speak. “That was… intense.”
You shrugged. “I thought it was hot.”
“Of course, you did,” Mark teased. 
Haechan shook his head. It felt like the more the days passed, the more there was on his mind. 
Regardless of unfortunate events, you refused to allow them to ruin the celebration. Assertively, you demanded that somebody put the music back on and encouraged your boyfriend to bust a move. Socializing and having fun was the quickest way to make him forget the unforgettable. 
Even though you were less expressive in your contempt, it obviously put you at unease as well and you were also in fine need of an effective distraction. A drink would have been nice for knocking back inhibition, but you’d resigned yourself to the fact that you had months before that was a viable solution. 
Plus something that you learned as you bordered closer onto your thirties was the significance of letting loose without the need for recreational use. There was something more special about bonding sober. 
Priorities shifted. Like how you were steadily beginning to value your personal life over your career and image. When you were in your early twenties, everything felt more life-and-death than it was. Now, the most pivotal moment of your life would be successfully giving birth. 
Later that night, those were the thoughts battling in your mind until noon that day. It seemed like every day you were making changes in your day-to-day routines to accommodate your new life. Changes that you were so certain at one point would feel like the end. 
You knew now it wasn’t anywhere close to the end. If anything, it was a new beginning and a transition to a new stage of your life. You were standing at the threshold of parenthood. 
That wasn’t to say you were going to remain indoors for the rest of your life until you wilted and succumbed to eventual fate. Or become a housewife and die, as Haechan had humorously put it. Granted, you realized how vital it was to be a little more laid-back and would undoubtedly shelter your children, but you were already fantasizing about sending the kids to the grandparents for a fun night out. 
You wondered if Jeno had changed. All things considered. He was older, too, and closer to Haechan’s age than he was yours. Though five years didn’t seem like too long ago, you had seen a quantity of things occur in that time. 
And you weren’t just talking career-wise, though that technically helped your case. You were in no way a stranger to the upward spiral of Jeno’s career. Like you, he had a successful career in the fashion industry, walking down runways and posing for big shot photographers. 
On more than one occasion, you’d been invited to events at the same time, though you had considered yourself lucky to not have any face-to-face encounters with him and simultaneously practiced your professional skills if it inevitably were to happen. 
Maybe it was for the better. A way to prepare you for the hell that was today. Still, you couldn’t deny being anxious as you lounged on your couch. 
Checking your watch and noting that it was a minute before two, you exhaled, “What if he just doesn’t show up?”
Not a moment later, the doorbell rang. Oh, you thought to yourself. He’s always been punctual. 
“You have your answer,” Haechan droned. 
You took three stabilizing breaths when you watched Haechan leave the room to answer the front door. Maybe you should have let him take care of this. No, chided the voice in your head. This is both of your history. He shouldn’t go through this alone. 
Especially not when he was evidently opposed to it and only agreed because it was what you wanted. 
There was a disturbance in your brain when you saw Haechan round the corner and return with Jeno. This guy had essentially been off of your radar for so long that it was jarring to be confronted with the fact that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. 
Jeno spoke your name. “Hi.”
You waved. As of this second, you didn’t have anything to say to him. 
“You can sit,” Haechan said when he sat next to you on the loveseat. He sounded bored. 
Jeno perched on the chair across from you, fumbling with his hands. You didn’t know Jeno for as long as Haechan had, but you still had never seen him anxious. 
You scanned your memory for any recollection of him being anything other than cocky and confident and ultimately turned up empty. His raging ego and dilated pride was his vice and had cost him more than you’d ever known.
Impatiently, Haechan prompted, “Well, are you here to twiddle your thumbs or…”
Normally, you would pinch his thigh for rude comments, but today he had a free pass. 
Jeno lifted his head to meet both of your eyes when he finally started, “I’ve spent six months trying to practice what I would say if I ever got the chance to apologize.”
Both you and Haechan had your arms folded, stubborn. Save for the unignorable vexation, your faces were borderline inscrutable. He picked the wrong duo to fuck over. The two of you were unrelenting. 
Jeno let out a little sigh and promptly continued, “I say six months, because it took me four years and a half to understand just how badly I fucked up. At first, it didn’t bother me that I lost seven friends on the same day. I was arrogant. I thought I didn’t need friends.”
You almost laughed. Almost. That much was obvious. 
“And I had that mindset for a long, long time. There’s just something about when you’re super young and you feel like you have the whole world at your feet. Obviously, the popularity didn’t help. When I started to become famous, people wanted to hang out with me.”
“Yeah, that tends to happen,” you quipped smartly. “They see you’re the next big thing and they hold onto you because that’s what you’re there for. To be their one-way ticket to stardom. Then, when they get what they wanted, you’ve exhausted your purpose.”
“Yeah.” Jeno bobbed his head in agreement. 
Haechan was not here to have a conversation about the brutal reality of being a superstar in the industry and his jaw clenched. “What made you realize that you fucked up?”
“What she said,” Jeno replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a shallow job. Nobody was really my friend. I was either just their ride to fame or an accessory to make them look good. I realized how much I missed not only you two, but the whole gang, because you were the only people who cared about me beyond the surface.”
Haechan sighed. 
Jeno’s voice got quieter. Not emotional, but dangerously close. “In our clique, it didn’t matter if you were on track to being a celebrity or just some guy. You know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
You frowned. 
Haechan added, “So, you get lonely and decide you need us?”
“I know how that sounds, but…,” Jeno trailed. “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted. I’m sorry for competing with you instead of being your friend.”
Haechan’s lips were in a hard line. 
Jeno flitted his gaze towards you. “I’m sorry for using you. It was beyond fucked up.”
“To be fair, I was using you, too.”
Jeno bounced his leg against the ground, attempting to thwart his nerves. At the back of his mind, there were many unspoken thoughts. “Yeah, but you didn’t leave a woman in the street by herself. I still haven’t forgiven myself for that. If something happened to you, it would have been all my fault.”
Just the thought triggered something spiteful inside you. “I’m glad you realize that.”
Knowing you better than anybody, Haechan could sense the fire smoldering inside of you, slipping his fingers through yours and squeezing. “This has been… whatever, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re stressing my baby mother out.”
Jeno spluttered, “Baby?”
“Yeah. A baby.”
Jeno’s eyes flickered in shock. “Wow, um. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you replied, tone completely noncommittal. “We’ll think about it.”
You watched Jeno bob his head and reply with a quiet “thank you” as your boyfriend stood to see him out. With how your brain was practically like a wildfire, it felt like the epitome of madness. 
Haechan came back only a couple of moments later sporting a sour glower. 
You relaxed when he sat next to you. You didn’t realize that you’d been so stiff. “Well, what do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Haechan lied without realizing, because his skepticism wouldn’t allow him to admit his true feelings. 
Well, you knew exactly what you were thinking. “He seems genuine. I don’t think he has an ulterior motive. I mean, he’s doing great, he doesn’t need us.”
Haechan prompted, “But?”
You heaved a breath. Sometimes you hated that Haechan knew you so well. Better yet, he understood you perfectly. 
“But I don’t forget as easily as I forgive,” you said quietly, drifting endlessly in your thoughts like spacetime. 
Haechan huffed, “Me, neither.”
Without many uncomfortable amounts of stressful thoughts, your life went on. The world kept spinning no matter what you were going through and it did you no good to subject yourself to strain while you were carrying twins. Your doctor was clear that the risks associated with pregnancy grew with more than one child. 
Your body was undergoing so much change that you didn’t even step outside because you didn’t want the world to know that you were pregnant until you announced it yourself. Given that it was your first pregnancy, you wanted it to be unforgettable. 
The baby bump felt like it happened overnight. You couldn’t stop gawking at yourself in the mirror, in disbelief that there was something coming to life inside of you. They were starting to move around, too. You cried when you noticed the fluttering in your belly, almost like butterflies. 
Every day you were counting down the seconds until the photoshoot until in a blink, the day had finally come. Haechan, the gentleman that you had fallen in love with, had everything set up at his studio and was rigid with the staff, though nonetheless polite. You were beaming. Not many opportunities arose for you to see him work behind the scenes and it was heartwarming to see him be so attuned to your needs. 
It was one of the most fun and rewarding shoots you’d ever done in your life. And it would be the most noteworthy. The vibe was nothing less than ethereal and it was full of kisses and laughter. Haechan’s hands and lips on your belly. Holding your hand while you looked into each other’s eyes with the utmost adoration. 
Holding the physical pictures between your own fingers, you sobbed. You were very emotional these days and half expected Haechan to poke fun at you, but he never did. He was the same way, passionate about the undying love he had for you and your unborn children. 
There were a couple of pictures that you didn’t release to the public. Those were just for you and your loved ones. They were more vulnerable, sentimental pictures where you and Haechan couldn’t but stare at each other with a tearful gaze. 
The moment of truth, came the little voice in the back of your head while your finger wavered over the share button. Half of you wanted to hand your phone over to your PR team, but it was important to you that you were the one to disclose. 
You took a shaky breath just before pressing the button and tossed your phone to the side. What was said online wasn’t any of your concern. You didn’t want to know. 
Outlets rushed to cough up the news. Your social media accounts were bursting with likes from people all over the globe. People you were friends with in the industry didn’t hesitate to call and congratulate you on the pleasant surprise. This wasn’t a secret anymore. Now that it was out there, it was everybody’s business. 
When the deed was done, you chose to focus on yourself and the life surrounding you in every capacity rather than what was out of your hands, and made peace with the fact that public opinion was inevitable. What you could control, on the other hand, was how exposed you were to stranger’s thoughts. 
The next few weeks were filled with yoga and child development textbooks. Haechan was taking pictures weekly to document your belly growth. He had already decided that he was going to start a photo album specifically for your children while they grew older. 
You told him that you couldn’t think of a more beautiful idea. 
One Friday came and brought a handful of errands along with itself. You were undoubtedly pregnant now, but not so much that you couldn’t complete tasks by yourself, though Haechan thought that that was debatable. He thought it was ridiculous that anyone expected you to do anything and upheld that you deserved princess treatment. 
But you had a medical opinion that said staying active during pregnancy was beneficial for you and the babies, and Haechan resigned himself to defeat. 
Apparently, the universe wasn’t in your favor, because your car started to have complications. First, the sunroof vehemently refused to open. Then, like a total drama queen, your car decided that she didn’t want to start. 
The most exasperated breath escaped your mouth. You didn’t know the first thing about getting a stubborn vehicle to start and you knew Haechan didn’t either. Besides, not only did you not want to disturb him while he was working, but you were equally stubborn and wanted to prove that you were capable of handling yourself. 
Out of options, you had a really, really bad idea. 
Something unfamiliar stirred in your gut when you pressed your phone to ear, hearing it ring. Anxiety. Or maybe it was something else. Something unidentifiable. 
Jeno sounded a little startled when he spoke, as if he thought you called him by accident. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jeno,” you said less than enthusiastically, rubbing your forearm. “I’ve got a serious favor to ask.”
Though you couldn’t see, Jeno perked up at those words. He was completely desperate. “Yeah, sure. Anything. What’s up?”
Providing a little humor, you replied, “Assuming that you actually know how to work on cars and that wasn’t a lie to impress me, my car kind of won’t start and trying to guilt trip her into functioning doesn’t seem to be effective.”
Jeno snorted. “Did you check the battery?”
You almost started to panic. “No. Was I supposed to?”
“Uh, how about this. If you want, I can come check it out,” Jeno suggested, then immediately regretted the decision. He didn’t want to try and insert himself into your lives too quickly. “But only if you want me to.”
That wasn’t the best idea, considering your boyfriend was intent to hate Jeno’s guts and would not approve of him standing in his garage alone with his baby mother, but your options were already few, so you replied, “That’s fine. You know where I am.”
“I’m on the way,” Jeno said. You could hear him shuffling around in the background. 
“Okay. See you soon.”
You hung up without giving him a chance to respond and released an uncertain breath. Don’t make me regret this. 
Waiting with bated breath and folded arms, your gaze upturned some thirty minutes later when you heard a blue Mercedes Benz turning into your driveway. 
And then Jeno started to walk over to you. 
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t make it sooner. Traffic is crazy today,” Jeno said when he stopped just shy of your toes.
You waved him off. “You’re good. Thirty minutes isn’t bad for California traffic. Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem,” Jeno replied. He didn’t waste much time on small talk, getting straight to what you called him over for. “Let’s see what’s wrong with this bad boy.”
“Her name is Mariposa,” you corrected, but your tone wasn’t malicious. 
Jeno threw his hands up. “Where’s my manners? I should’ve asked. Sorry if I offended you, Mariposa.”
You snickered. “Don’t apologize to her. She’s caused enough trouble today.”
Jeno chuckled. 
While you kept yourself occupied in the corner, not wanting to disturb Jeno as he tried to figure out why your car was acting like a bitch, his brain was totally divided. Half was focused on thoroughly examining your car, while the other was hooked on the fact you remembered something he told you five years ago at dinner. 
Jeno was pondering, hoping. Maybe you just had a good memory, especially when it was convenient, but he hoped that someday, there would be room for him again in your lives. 
Even if he had to spend years proving that he was worthy. 
Jeno separated himself from the lifted hood of your car, dusting his hands off. Your eyes were stuck on him with gut-eating anticipation. “Looks like your alternator is weakening. Smells like burned wires and the serpentine belt smells like smoke. Your engine’s probably leaking.”
“English, please.”
“Your alternator’s not alternating and your shit’s fucked,” Jeno replied, blunt. 
“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
“Don’t worry. The good news is that it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Jeno reassured, pushing the lid back down. “The bad news is that I don’t have the tools to work on it for you.”
You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess I should call a mechanic.”
Jeno bobbed his head. “That would be a good start.”
You were anxious to ask, but did it anyway, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind hanging around? One look at my neighborhood and the obvious fact that I don’t know a damn thing about cars, and anyone would try to scam me out of more money than I need to spend.”
“Yeah, of course,” Jeno replied, dipping his hands in his pockets. “But, uh… won’t Haechan mind?”
You snorted. That was an understatement. “Oh, definitely, but his vehicle knowledge starts with one wheel and rides with two. I don’t think he has a say in this.”
Jeno snickered. 
The mechanic came half an hour later and you let Jeno handle the bulk of the talking, only chiming in when the guy asked specific questions like how long you’d been experiencing complications with your car.  
Between the mechanic peeking under the hood and Jeno pointing out to him your car’s tenaciousness, you understood enough of their exchange to know that fixing her would take a solid two hours. Unfortunately, this guy was stretched thin, meaning he would have to tow it back to his shop and have you pick it up tomorrow. 
“This day cannot get any worse,” you grumbled underneath your breath. 
Jeno was frustrated for you and it wasn’t even his car acting a damn fool. After he seemed to hesitate a little, he asked, “Will Haechan be back soon?”
“Nope. He had most of his hours cut, but apparently there was a really huge crisis at his job. It’s going to be another hour or two.”
“Dammit,” Jeno groaned. “Well, if you want me to, I wouldn’t mind driving. You seem really stressed and that’s not healthy for the babies. I mean, obviously you know that, but...”
His nervousness was not lost on you and you resisted a chuckle, interjecting, “Jeno, I would really appreciate the help.”
“Okay, cool,” Jeno said, whipping his keys out of his pockets and tossing them in the air. “Where to?”
Gently helping you get into his car, Jeno made sure that you were safe and comfortable before he took the driver’s seat and braced his hands on the wheel. He was certain that your lover would have his head on a stick for driving you around without his knowledge, but he had a moral obligation not to leave pregnant ladies under tension. 
Besides, he had to prove his loyalty somehow. It didn’t matter how much Jeno insisted that he’d changed. Neither you or Haechan would be convinced until there were no doubts.
Your head was against the door, temporarily appreciating the air conditioning until you just couldn’t take the silence, asking, “So, how’s life? Last time we spoke, you were talking about people being shallow.”
Jeno nodded his head quietly. “I’ve been scared of meeting new people. I have a few friends. Other than that, I have my family and girlfriend.”
Your brows furrowed. That was new. “Girlfriend? Congratulations. I didn’t know.”
“Thank you,” Jeno replied, heat rapidly flushing his cheeks. “She’s the one that encouraged me to apologize. Even if you guys still hated me in the end, she said it would be good to get it off my chest.”
That was interesting. Nobody saw the day coming where Jeno of all people would choose commitment. “Is she in the industry?”
“No, she’s actually a banker,” Jeno replied, chuckling. 
“Really? How did your paths cross?” 
“It’s a long story,” Jeno said, but you could see his eyes sparkling with happiness. He must’ve really liked her. 
Pointing to the road in front of you, staring at the red light glaring back at you both, you shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve got a long day.” 
For the duration of the total ride, in between stops, you chatted with Jeno to pass the time. It wasn’t the easiest thing to relax around each other, each for your own reasons, but you managed. And truth be told, it wasn’t all too bad. 
Your chronic cynicism was the only thing standing in the way of your forgiveness. But Jeno had no apparent reason to drive you around and assist you with errands if it wasn’t simply out of the kindness of his heart. There was nothing that you could give him that he didn’t already have. Except maybe loyal companionship, but he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t lonely. 
Only hours later did Jeno finally pull back into your driveway. Most of your errands just required having to speak with people, but noting that you were probably out of your favorite snacks again, you opted to head to a couple of stores. You also figured you would need some chocolate when it was time to placate Haechan after he realized you’d been with his worst enemy all day. 
When you were home, Jeno refused to let you carry a single item. With your bags in his hand, he opened your front door and dropped your bags off in the kitchen. 
The sound of his front door opening was all too familiar and it was no surprise that Haechan rushed downstairs, having returned only maybe half an hour before you, and chirped, “Baby, you’re home!”
You wrapped your arms around him. Haechan gently hugged you back, careful not to harm you. His warmth was appreciated, but remembering you had a little surprise, you pulled back. “Don’t get mad.”
Haechan gave you a look. “Why would I get mad?”
Surprisingly on cue, Jeno returned from the kitchen, trailing, “I put the food in the...” 
Jeno and Haechan locked glances as it was like a deer crossing paths with a mountain lion. Though you could feel Haechan tense, rather than his hold slackening, it tightened. You could see the anger flickering onto his face within a blink. “What is he doing in our house?”
“I just said don’t get mad,” you groaned, winding a hand through your hair. You cocked your head towards Jeno and said to him, “Jeno, thank you for helping me out today. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. I’m endlessly indebted to you,” Jeno quipped, sticking his hands in his pockets. 
“Damn right,” Haechan murmured under his breath. 
Nudging him in the side, you ignored Haechan’s whine of pain. “Well, get home safe. Thank you again.”
“No problem. Have a good night,” Jeno said, seeing himself out. 
“Get home safe?” Haechan repeated when Jeno disappeared. 
You heaved a little breath and asked, “Do you want him to die or something?”
“Well…”
“Stop,” you hissed, breaking out of his arms and moving to a chair. “He really helped me out today. My car broke down and he came to check it out. Then, when the mechanic took my car, he volunteered to help me with my errands.”
Haechan followed behind you, confused. “What? Why is this my first time hearing about this?”
“Because you had a work emergency and it wasn’t worth interrupting you over. I can handle stuff by myself, you know.”
“I know you can, but…,”
“But you’d rather me call you than the guy that fucked you over, yeah, I know,” you huffed. 
“You just finished my sentence.”
Your brows furrowed, wondering how that was in any way significant. “So?”
“So, this is going in the completely wrong direction,” Haechan said, cooling off for your sake. The last thing you needed was stress or a petulant baby daddy. “Let’s calm down and go upstairs.”
You opened your mouth to say something, anything to oppose him, but closed them when you realized you’d fallen short of things to say. “Fine.”
Haechan helped you to the bedroom. The stairs were definitely a problem lately, courtesy of the additional pressure on your uterus. You had to be extra careful coming up them now. 
When you were sitting on your bed, Haechan quietly came beside you. You released a tiny breath, not pleased or disgruntled, but of the will to leave whatever just happened downstairs. It was to be expected. 
After a minute of silence, Haechan finally said, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head. “Don’t be.”
“No, I should be. You know I never want to make you feel like I think that you can’t do anything yourself. But I need you to know that I’m still there for you to lean on when you need me.”
Thankful that he was lying down, you lowered yourself to rest your head on his chest. Your lips were tugged into a faint smile. “Do you remember our first date?”
Haechan cocked brow. “The real one, or the unofficial first date?”
I still think the unofficial date was the real one, but whatever. Obviously, you would never say that aloud, because then it would spark the debate over what your actual first date was. You ignored his question and continued, “You said that you would never try to control me, because you’re a grown man and I’m a grown woman.”
“Have I?”
You answered bluntly, “No, you haven’t. That was five years ago, you know. I’m pregnant with our baby and even if I hate this next part, I have to depend on you a little more now.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should make a sign-in sheet for everybody that enters your life,” Haechan said.
“Two things can be true at once.” 
Haechan said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. You were so similar. That was why your relationship worked. Both of you needed time to yourselves, but the fact you were having a baby together forced you to readjust. 
It wasn’t just about what you or Haechan needed anymore. Your two babies would be entering the world any day now and they took precedence in your lives now. There would be difficult choices and there would be compromises. For both of you. 
You found his fingers, blindly lacing your fingers through them. “I don’t forgive him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Oh.”
You continued, “I think I probably will, eventually, but not yet. Not right now.”
“You said that I would rather you call me than the guy that fucked me over,” Haechan rewinded, squeezing your hand. 
You made a face. “Yeah, I did, but I was irritated and I cut you off. It’s a bad habit that I still haven’t let go of. And it will probably happen again.”
Haechan snorted. “You weren’t wrong, but at the same time, I think I might forgive him too. Not right now, obviously, but eventually. Like you said.”
“Why?” You were confused. You saw how Haechan’s demeanor switched on a dime when he noticed Jeno was in his house. 
“Because he helped you. And anyone that treats you respectfully without an ulterior motive is alright in my book.”
There was movement in your belly and it wasn’t the babies for once. It was the butterflies. 
Haechan draped his other arm over you, smiling gently as his hand touched your belly. “By the way, is this a good time to mention that I have something to tell you?”
Your face tensed with curiosity. “You’ve already put it out there. Might as well cough it up.”
“Okay, well…,” Haechan started. His confidence seemed to be dissipating. “I was thinking that we should go on a babymoon before the kids get here.”
A single brow lifted from your face. “What?”
“Like a honeymoon, but it’s not a honeymoon. It’s a babymoon,” Haechan explained vaguely, sitting up in a way that meant he was serious. 
“Okay, but wouldn’t we go on a babymoon after we had the baby?”
Haechan gave you a look. “Baby, do you really think that we're going to have that kind of time after the babies are born?”
When he put it like that, the concept made a little more sense. “Fair point. Where would we go though?”
Haechan shrugged. “I was thinking Florida, but of course I’m open to suggestions. This is an us thing.”
“Florida’s good with me,” you said without complaint. 
“Then, Florida it is.”
Only two days later, you were on a plane to Florida with ample snacks and water. Haechan didn’t like to waste any time and you didn’t understand the point in waiting either. The clock was ticking and you were already in the third trimester. 
Sure, it was a last-minute vacation, but you checked in with your doctors and after a few evaluations, they had little problem with you traveling through air for a couple of weeks. 
Florida, specifically Miami, was ripe with obnoxiously hot weather in spite of the faded summer. December was similar in California, cheerful and sunny with occasional rain showers. Given that you were raised in the north, it was an exciting change of pace. 
Which was why you were glaring at Haechan in disappointment when you watched him pull three sets of familiar black leather from his suitcase. Your arms were crossed. “Did you really need to pack three different leather jackets?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he said without hesitating. “Come on, babe, you love seeing me in black leather. It’s what made you fall for me.”
You mercilessly quipped, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s what made me turn you away.”
“Whatever,” Haechan retorted, pulling another leather jacket from his suitcase. 
All you could do was shake your head. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear the same leather jacket twice.”
Haechan chuckled. “Now that’s an exaggeration. Besides, I need to have plenty to pass down to our kids. They’re gonna have to look extra cool when we go biking together. I can’t be seen with anything less.”
Your heart draped over your racing heart. “Haechan, you cannot take our kids on a motorcycle.”
“Of course not. Not with you knowing about it.”
Your heart was skipping. You were absolutely going to need to have a conversation with his mother. He’s definitely his father’s son. 
“I was kidding. It was a joke,” Haechan said playfully, but the mischievousness in his countenance was obvious. 
You rolled your eyes. “Sure it was.”
Whether it was or wasn’t, Haechan would never tell you. You would just have to cling to hope that he wouldn’t do something like that without your knowledge. Though you trusted him endlessly, the little snicker coming from his parted lips made you a little unsure. 
Then, the vacation started, and you tried to keep your mind from drifting towards the aftermath of pregnancy. Well, as much as you could with the added pressure weighing down your every footstep. Haechan didn’t want to leave you out of his sight for the next two weeks lest something happened to you.
Though you weren’t due for another five weeks, he wasn’t taking any chances. He waited close by when he surprised you with a prenatal massage and always kept your phones charged in case of emergencies. 
He’s going to be a wonderful father, spoke the smitten voice in your head in rhythm with your soaring heartbeat. He was vigilant, careful. You knew with total confidence that your children would be in the greatest of hands. 
Still, in spite of your mutual worries, neither of you would allow them to stand in the way of your fun. He wandered around the beach with you, sticking your toes in hot sand and taking a dip in the water.
Sporting a two piece swimsuit, you felt somewhat self-conscious meandering just shy of the shore in front of so many people. Though you’d convinced yourself that you were doing a good job at hiding the truth, Haechan grabbed your hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” It was an obvious lie, because you replied way too quickly. 
Haechan’s steps slowed, cocking his head to look at you. “That’s a lie. You answered too fast. And you didn’t ask me why I asked.”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s just… that I feel a little exposed.”
Even though that was vague as hell, Haechan knew exactly what you meant and he wouldn’t stand for it for even just a second. “Babe, you’re beautiful. That’ll never change, even if your body wil,” he said, stopping dead in his tracks. 
Your eyes stung with tears. You’d been outside lately, but never this exposed. Never this far into your pregnancy. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel like this.”
Haechan shook his head. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You can feel however the fuck you want. Just remember that I love you regardless of what you look like. And your body’s only changing to cater to the life we’re about to bring into the world.”
That reminder was all you needed. As long as you had Haechan’s love and enough of your own to supply your children, everything else ceased to matter. 
For half a second, you thought about how tired he must’ve been of having to provide you reassurance, but you shooed the thought away. Everything Haechan did for you was because he cared. There were more than a handful of times where Haechan would randomly confess how gorgeous he thought you were and how much he loved you. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
Haechan set his arm at your backside. “You have nothing to thank me for. It’s the truth.”
“I know, but I don’t know how I would do any of this without you. You make everything easier. I feel like I can breathe as long as you’re with me.”
Haechan’s heart was unstill. He couldn’t imagine his life any other way. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he confessed, the sound of his voice featherlight. 
You wanted to test that theory. Mischievous, you squeezed his hand and leaned onto his shoulder, asking, “Would you rather go back to the room?”
What that meant was obvious to Haechan, but it still surprised him. Your sex drive wasn’t as active lately. And not only that, but he was too busy becoming a father to focus on his libido. “Would you be there?”
“I would do a lot more than that,” you retorted. 
Haechan pressed, “But would you want to?”
“Babe, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Haechan nodded. It’s not like you were ever afraid to tell him what you wanted. Or what you didn’t want, for that matter. Plus it had been a lifetime since the two of you had sex, and he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get it in before exhaustion became the only thing that drew you to bed. “Say less.”
The walk back to those canopy chairs was eager. Haechan wanted to return to the room as quickly as he could, but patiently remained at your side. 
After collecting your beach towels and rinsing off loose sand (as much as you could in public), you and Haechan walked side-to-side back to the hotel. The sight of your suite coming into view five minutes later made you release a shaky breath of relief.
You and Haechan locked lips almost the second you stood behind the door. Haechan couldn’t wait any longer; he was bursting. Ever since you introduced the idea some twenty minutes ago, all he could think about was putting his hands on you. 
His hands were quick, loosening the string behind your back. Some weeks had passed since he touched you like this. Maybe a month. Now he was remembering what it was like to be caught in your path. 
You separated yourself from him, exhaling, “Bed.”
Haechan grabbed you by the waist and guided you to the bed. When you were there, you climbed your own way up the mattress, with him following closely after. A hand crept into your bare chest and the other behind you, gently craning you onto your back.
Your lips connected again. Fire ascended over you, starting in your heart and stretching elsewhere. His lips were so pretty and kissable. Throwing your mouth against his and sucking on his tongue was something you simply never got bored of. You just couldn’t explain it. 
Haechan pulled back again a couple of moments later, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Better?” he asked, eyes sparkling with wonder.  
“Mm-hm,” you sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his beautiful head of hair.  
Haechan extended an arm down your calf, teasing the skin before cycling your legs into the air and ripping your panties almost right from underneath you. He so badly wanted to touch you everywhere, gnawing at his lip with an insatiable hunger. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Haechan said wantonly. “Tired of you.”
That was without question. You could feel his half-hard cock growing at the edge of your swollen thigh. Arousal shot through him like a firework and it would take little to nothing to get him excited.
Your heart throbbed in sync with your pussy and your leg, still in Haechan’s itching palms, tensed insatiably. There was nothing that turned you on like being wanted. 
Wishing he would take off those stupid swim trunks, a dangerous thought wrecked through your brain and you asked, “Can I do something this time?”
“Not a chance.”
You snapped, “And why not?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to take care of you. And right now, I just wanna make sure you get wet enough to take my dick,” Haechan replied. 
Your next best option was begging. “Please? I’ll get wet just from seeing your pretty face scrunch. Killing two birds with one stone.”
Haechan’s lips parted to turn you down, but he started to mull over your suggestion. Hope nipped at your heart, twinkling in your eyes. Blowjobs shouldn't've hurt the babies. And he knew you wouldn’t be able to lie on your back for very long anyway. “Fine. How do you wanna do this?”
You were beaming. With Haechan’s help, you kneeled on the mattress before crawling over to the edge of the bed. “I read something online. Let’s try you standing here while I lay on my side.”
Per your request, Haechan shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping out of his swim trunks where his dick was desperately poking around for attention. 
You leaned onto your left side, excitement making your heart beat quicker. And your pussy throb, but you were happily focused on someone else right now. “Feel free to use my mouth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Haechan said, though he would try not to. 
Pressing your lips against his inner thighs, you brushed them over his skin, feeling his legs tense at your touch. So, so sensitive. You could only imagine what would happen when you sucked his cock into your mouth. 
You reached out to grab a fistful of his cock, just after spitting into the palm of your hand, and started to pump him slowly. More often than not, you started off tentatively; you liked to tease him. There was no point in getting him off if you couldn’t see the irritability and desperation on his handsome face. 
Haechan’s breath hitched. His cock was twitching. You seemed to always know what to do with your hands, in spite of the fact that you never let his cum too quickly. But you knew exactly how to wreck him. 
“You don’t have to tease, you know,” he said, voice a little distant like he wasn’t even there.
“I know,” you replied offhandedly. “But I want to.” And I know you pretend not to like it. 
Haechan huffed, but he was only half upset. Part of him liked when you had total, unmitigated control of his pleasure. 
You didn’t release your grip on his stiffened cock when you’d had your fill of teasing him until you sucked the tip into your warm mouth. There was a breath on Haechan’s end, light and shaky, and you couldn’t wait to replicate it. 
Your cheeks were hollowed. You were eager to take most of him down your throat, but were cautious about your pacing, given that it had been a minute since you sucked the soul out of Haechan. Even you were reluctant to give him head during the first trimester because of the morning sickness. 
“Fuck,” Haechan whined shakily. He was remembering what you said about using your mouth even though he hated that the idea appealed to him.
Haechan’s fingers gripped the sheets, opting not to touch you in case he went too far. His face was tense with pleasure and those featherlight moans were like music to your ears. You took more of him, hopeful to throat every inch, and looked into his hazy eyes to watch as it broke him just the way you knew it would. 
The heat was getting to be too much. His thoughts were racing by quicker than he could articulate them, all coming from his mouth being gentle sounds. But his head was saying, She’s going to be the death of me. And I’m okay with that. 
Then, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and started to thrust into your mouth. Though there wasn’t any warning and you only half expected it, you somehow willed yourself to relax. It was so goddamn hot. Pretending that it was your cunt his stiff cock was fucking got you even wetter. 
Even you were moaning and the vibrations shooting through his cock made the room whirl a little. And as if it couldn’t get any better, you pinched the skin of his thigh between your nails, plucking a lethal whine out of him. “That’s making me crazy, baby,” he exhaled, another groan escaping him when he met your stare.
You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft and Haechan swore he saw Michael Jackson looking down at him for a second. Please, was at the back of his throat, but he didn’t want to cum. Not right now. He wanted to cum when he was deep inside of you. 
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stop,” he panted, blinking as if to clear the haze from his eyes. 
You grinded to a halt when you heard those words and noticed him no longer fucking your mouth, wiping saliva from your lips with the back of your hand. Your cheeks hurt, but it was worth it. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cum,” Haechan said, gravel. “Not unless I’m inside you. And even then, I might nut too quick.”
You waved off his concern and replied, “It’s okay if you do. I might tap out soon.”
“Duly noted. What’s the plan?”
You beckoned Haechan forward with your hand, watching him creep closer. When he bent down to your level, you whispered something in his ear. 
A few moments later, Haechan was behind you in the bed, your naked back flush against his bare chest. Your breaths were thick and rough while you became entrapped in his body’s warmth. Bending your knees, you counted down the seconds until he would be inside, holding your breath when he entered from behind you. 
And you released it when Haechan grunted at the squeeze of your vice-like cunt upon the first couple of thrusts. You were soaked, just like you said. Getting him off must’ve really done a number.  
His voice was so close to your ear, closer than you thought. “You know the drill, baby. Tell me if you can’t take it.”
You nodded. It was all you could do not to splinter then and there. 
Haechan was tentatively prodding, slow. He was careful not to do you any harm, because if he did, he’d never forgive himself. Luckily enough, what you were feeling was far from painful. With every inch he reluctantly pushed into you, your head was deeper into the clouds. 
There was nothing like being skin to skin with your lover, heart to heart. That was the better half of the appeal when it came to sex nowadays. Pleasure was seeked by the togetherness of intimacy, less than the emphasis of orgasm. 
But he certainly still knew how to get you there. 
“You always feel so good,” you moaned, stretching your hand to reach his forearm. This whole trip had been nothing short of romantic thus far. 
Something about your praise made all of the blood flow to Haechan’s dick, heavy and quick. “You ready for me?”
“Mm-hm. Move, baby,” you whispered, knowing he was testing the waters. “Just relax. You’re not going to break me, I promise.”
Haechan acknowledged your consent with the quietest of sounds, starting to pace himself in and out. His rhythm was steady, but none too rough. It was loving. 
It tickled when his lips grazed the back of your throat in a litter of kisses, breathless giggles escaping you. Wheeling your head, you turned to give him a peck on the mouth, watching the smile coax its way onto Haechan’s face. He has the prettiest smile ever. And I’ll do anything to protect it. 
Anything and everything. It was no secret that Haechan doubted himself sometimes. He rarely spoke to you about it, not wanting to lump his feelings on top of yours because he thought yours were more significant, given that you were the one bringing these children to life. But you wish he knew how incredible he was to you. 
Though you never failed to remind him. Even now, just looking into his eyes with total adoration, Haechan couldn’t understand. He wanted to see himself the way that you saw him. Thanks to your relentlessness, he was getting a little closer. 
Reaching out to touch his cheek, you whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, like those words alone would be the death of him. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. 
You playfully teased, “You always say the most romantic things.”
Haechan’s face flushed, but those explicatives were at the tip of his tongue. When he was deep inside you like this, his hands cupping your hips, it couldn’t be helped. “That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing,” he lied, losing himself with every sweet thrust.
Your lips parted in a laugh, but it was cut off by a moan. Between the sight and sound, Haechan couldn’t tell which was better. Watching you burst with rapture turned him on. Listening to you burst with rapture turned him on. You turned him on.
All you could feel was ecstasy. It had been said, but the whole world stopped when you were alone with Haechan and it didn’t affect you. When he was fucking all the stress out of your body, in spite of the heat scorching down your skin, you could somehow breathe. 
You faced away from him again, eyes fluttered closed. You were imagining him, even though he was right behind you. There was no space between your bodies and sometimes it was as if you were one person. Like you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 
Which was ironic. Your first encounter wasn’t so long ago, even if it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. You still vividly recalled wanting nothing to do with him. 
Yet here you were. Carrying his baby, his offspring. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Haechan extended his hand over your lower stomach, reaching out to touch your clit. Your reaction was instant. You gasped, elevating to highs you never knew were in reach. Sex hit different knowing the extremes you were capable of when Haechan was giving himself to you completely. 
“I’m so close, baby,” Haechan warned. He could feel it approaching, but it didn’t matter to him if he didn’t cum either. 
That excited you. Your core throbbed and you purred, “Give it to me, baby boy. Cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say it like that,” Haechan told you, coming up on the edge. He rocked into you harder, wincing his eyes closed. 
You didn’t skip a beat. “Why? Too afraid you’re gonna bust a nut?”
When Haechan said nothing, you grinned to yourself. Then, his other hand came to your boobs, gently touching your nipples. You sighed out, breathless.
Now it was you unraveling. Like clockwork, your back started to arch away from him, your body too stimulated from his hands on your nipple and clit. It just felt so good - the whole room started to spin. 
Moving your hair out of the way, Haechan leaned even closer to you. If possible. You were obsessed with his mouth nipping at the shell of your ear. Voice at the back of your neck. “You’re gonna be a great mother. I can feel that you are,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 
You whimpered, listening to his gentle tone factored with the hot sound of sex thumping throughout the room. 
“Our kids are going to love you from the moment that they lie on your chest and get to see you. They’ll grow up lucky that they get to call you their mother, because even before they were born, you’ve done nothing but your best to care for and nurture them.”
“Haechan…,” you trailed. Your eyes watered. 
Haechan added, “And I’ll be there, proud as ever. Because if there’s any woman that’s fit to raise a baby, it’s you.”
Only seconds ago you didn’t think you would be able to go any longer, sensing yourself on the brink of tapping out, but that spiral ripped it out of you. You shuddered with climax, shifting away from his touch. The sweetest cry escaped you and you found his hand to anchor yourself through your orgasm.
That did it for Haechan in the end. He came just at a glimpse of you finishing on his cock, moaning your name darkly. Stifling his sounds into your shoulder. You milked his load out of him and Haechan swore it was mind-numbing to its core.
A moment passed before you each stilled. Sticky sweat connected your gleaming skin as you released open-mouthed exhales in an attempt to stabilize your breath. For a second, eyes fluttering, your brain was peacefully empty. 
Minutes later, you cocked your head and squeaked, “I’m going to the bathroom. Just rest. You don’t need to follow me.”
Haechan nodded, finally pulling out of you. Something about times like this made his heart swell and his skin swelter. Those moments of silence after. 
Wobbling inside the bathroom attached to your suite, you shut the door behind yourself, in spite of knowing Haechan would probably come in a minute or two. There was a gigantic smile on your face. Finding somebody that cared about you so much was a blessing. 
You meandered over to the toilet so that you could pee. Then, when you finished, you came to the sink to wash your hands of germs. The mirror in front of you was wide and tall. You stared at your reflection, letting out a contented little breath, and set your palms on your tummy. 
As to be expected, Haechan’s voice sounded from behind the door when you didn’t return a couple of moments after he heard you flush. “Baby, are you good? Can I come in?”
You quipped, “Haven’t you come inside of enough things?”
Haechan snickered, twisting the knob. Very funny. He was pleasantly surprised to see you slowly rubbing a hand over your pregnant belly, softly smiling even if you didn’t realize that you were.
Haechan came up to you. Your heart quickened when you sensed his warmth behind you, kissing your shoulder. “Was I too much?”
You shook your head. “It was amazing. I didn’t think I would make it that far.”
“What can I say? I’ve never not blown a woman’s mind,” Haechan joked, lips brushing the back of your neck. A litter of love bruises were there. 
You rolled your eyes. Then, you giggled. 
It was silent for a little while. Both of you were too in awe to speak. With your focus drawn entirely to your children, it was all too easy to become paralyzed with adoration. And they weren’t even born yet.
Haechan’s hand came around your hip, dropping below your ribs. You could feel him hesitating - his body tensed against your skin - but he ultimately said, “Not to be that guy, but I’m kind of glad you’re taking a step back.”
“Really?” You knew that. His happiness was never not clear to you. 
“Yeah, baby, I mean…,” he trailed, thinking. Longing. “Spending more time with you, bonding as a family has really changed me for the better, I think.”
I know what you mean, came your thoughts, but you just hummed. Haechan knew that you were listening. And you knew that he wanted to talk. Your fingers crept up his arm, reassuring. 
Haechan’s mind was racing. Blaring. “Becoming a father hasn’t just changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at life. Life is short, baby. The most beautiful moments of life are short, but they’re meaningful, because I have you. And I’ve got to make that count.”
You shook your head. “We’ve got to make that count.”
Haechan nodded, chuckling. “Yes, you’re exactly right. This is a group effort.”
Your eyes lifted to look at him in the mirror, and you finally realized your lips were curled. “You’re gonna be a good father, you know,” you said levelly. 
Haechan let his hands wander over your belly, running them gently over the flesh. There was a twinkle in his gaze and a beaming smile at his lips. “I can believe that now. And I owe all of the credit to you. I know what I want and who I am. You’ve made me see things from a different point of view.”
“Ironically, I feel the same way,” you said, finding some amusement in this moment of clarity. “It seems like only yesterday I was terrified of having a baby. I didn’t want things to change. The future was so scary.”
“And it’s not anymore?” Haechan asked.
“A little,” you confessed. “But knowing that I have you makes it easier. And knowing that our kids have someone like you, I can relax.”
“You know what they say. The best matches are people who bring out the best in each other.”
You bobbed your head. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if I grew because of you, or if I grew with you. But I think it’s both now. And now we get to do that for a lifetime.”
Yeah, I get that, Haechan thought. You don’t have a single clue, do you? Just how badly I wanna seal the deal, tie the knot. But I’ll take it one step at a time, because I know how you are. You’re slow and steady, baby. And I’m reckless and quick, but we make it work, because you know what you want. And so do I. 
“Yes,” Haechan sighed happily. “Yes, we do.”
A quick tear escaped your eye, but you wiped it away. You were overwhelmed in the best way. 
Haechan kissed your cheek, knowing all of your pleasures and your pains. And he kept them inside his heart in a vault. “I hope they have your eyes.”
Your brows furrowed in wonder. “I think our genes might be evenly distributed.”
“That is not how it works, baby.”
I know, but I want to have hope. It’s wishful thinking,” you replied, sighing. 
Haechan chuckled. “Either way, they’ll be beautiful. And they have a handsome father and breathtaking mother to thank.”
“That’s so vain,” you retorted. But you didn’t disagree. 
Haechan kneeled to the floor, sitting just shy of your stomach. His hands were still lovingly touching you. “Hi, son and daughter. It’s Daddy. I’m sure you’re sick of my voice by now, but that’s too bad. You have to deal with it for eighteen years.”
You shook your head, a stupid smile on your face. Your cheeks hurt. Somehow, you just couldn’t get enough of this boy. 
“Mommy says that Daddy is vain. Can you believe that? Me, of all people, vain. I mean, if you look as good as me one day, you will be, too,” Haechan said exaggeratedly.
“Babe, be careful what you tell our kids,” you chastised. 
“She’s scolding me now. Mommy can get scary when she’s angry, you know. You better not wind up on the receiving end of her wrath.”
You snorted. 
“Anyways, all I really wanted to say is that Mommy and Daddy love you very much. We can’t wait to see you,” Haechan whispered. Your heart burst when he pressed his lips to your belly.
You just knew that he was the one for you. 
The rest of the vacation - or babymoon as your babies’ daddy enthusiastically dubbed it - was a breeze. Before you knew it, you were on a flight back home. Beach air and rushing water was over. And California had never been more foreign. 
Back in your own home, you spent your hours reminiscing in between yoga sessions. You were grateful that Jaehyun suggested the babymoon. It was a much needed period of relaxation to distract you from the looming disaster of childbirth. 
And you were sitting just at its door. Because your pregnancy was considered high-risk and you were not inclined to have a c-section delivery, your doctor recommended labor induction. When you didn’t go into labor after twenty four hours, you started to feel unnerved. 
You had nightmares about what would happen if things went wrong sometimes. Your doctor and childbirth educator made sure that the risks were outlined and clear. One wrong move and you could lose your kids, not to mention that anything could happen to you. 
That was why Doctor Stakes wasn’t willing to risk natural birth. Having twins alone constituted a high-risk pregnancy and they were actively monitoring your babies positions to make sure they weren’t breech.
Haechan was restless, but he tried to keep it together for your sake. He called your name, hand in yours. “Baby, I can feel you tensing. Breathe,” he told you calmly. 
Your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
“I know. I am, too, but I’m right here with you. We can overcome anything as long as we’re together.”
You bobbed your head and sucked in a breath. Had he not been there with you, it would’ve been a hell of a lot scarier. 
An eternity and a half seemed to pass before you finally went into labor. The contractions started at a distance and you likened them to the preparation trials you endured during the second trimester. Then, they were shorter apart, and the pain intensified so much it felt as if there was no air. 
At the first nick of pain, you immediately pressed for an epidural. Your childbirth already wasn’t natural. And if they thought you would be able to do this without medication, they completely overestimated you.
It took fifteen minutes for a nurse to administer the epidural and another fifteen for the effects to settle in. Haechan never let go of your hand unless he absolutely needed to and he was staring at you with a newfound respect. And his respect for you was already in the heavens. 
“This is crazy,” you wheezed, pulse quickened. 
“It is,” Haechan agreed. “But you can do this. You’re stronger than I ever have been.”
You tugged your lips into a smile. “I’ve been thinking about us. Instead of the risks and stuff.”
That was a pretty good idea. Haechan said, “Talk to me. Tell me about it.”
“We got a new house, like I said. The kids are roughly five years old. They’re helping you make omelets because you know that I like them. There’s a cat. We let them name it. And I’m completely oblivious to what’s going on.”
Haechan snickered. That sounded like his offspring and he hadn’t even met them yet. 
You added, “I thought about something else. There’s a private photoshoot. You’re the photographer, of course. The kids are in your leather jackets, but they’re oversized on them. The whole thing is so cute.”
Haechan kissed your cheek. His heart was thumping in his chest like a hammer and there was a sudden gush of warmth shooting through him. “I bet it is. I can see it playing out in my head right now. We should have a shoot like that one day. With all of us in black leather.”
You chuckled. It was tempting. 
There was so much action in the room. People were moving from place to place to ensure that your babies were delivered safely. Your midwife assured you that the process was moving smoothly. 
With that out in the open, you could breathe a little easier. Though you and Haechan still had no intention of separating from each other. The nurses would have to forcibly pry him away from you.
“It’s time to push,” came your midwife’s level voice. 
The nurses were helping you realize when you needed to push. The movements felt like a distant pressure in your lower back, courtesy of the epidural. None of what was happening to you seemed real and all left to ground you in reality was the knowledge that it was really happening. 
“This is happening,” you said shakily. “Oh my god. This is actually happening.”
Haechan uttered the dreaded words, “Babe, relax.”
“No! I’m never doing this again!” you snapped dramatically, overwhelmed with all the motion. “You need to get a vasectomy!”
Haechan took your outburst in stride. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Fuck,” you exhaled, an invisible cool shiver running down your spine. 
The first push alone was exhausting. You started to feel lightheaded and as if you would faint from the pressure. There was a lull of relief when the nurse permitted you to take a break to regain strength. 
Tears stung your eyes. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Haechan told you in a heartbeat. 
Your confidence in yourself started to dissipate, but with your faithful partner and a dedicated team of medical staff reassuring you through the process, you forced the negativity out of your head and focused on your children. 
“Another push,” your midwife urged. 
You took one big, stabilizing breath before it was ripped out of your lungs again. Your legs had gone completely numb. There was still a slight degree of discomfort in your back that heightened a little with every push, but you winced your eyes closed and rid the thoughts. 
“Breathe with me, baby,” Haechan said during the next break. 
With what little strength you had, you nodded your head and followed his breathing patterns. Your heart seemed more tired than the rest of you as you physically shook. The blood was rushing through you to a painful degree.  
You squeezed Haechan’s hand, which was what you had already been doing. His metacarpals were brave soldiers. “Tell me something.”
In typical Haechan fashion, he was cool as a cucumber. You would never guess that he was terrified for your life, but he pulled himself together. “Anything?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“When I was eleven, I wanted a leather jacket exactly like the black and red one Michael Jackson wore in Thriller,” he confessed. “Then, my mom got me one. And I hated it.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why?” 
“It was black and orange.”
You snickered. Now you were thinking about an angry little Haechan being a sulky and petulant mess. 
When it was time for the final shoves, you had just enough energy to will yourself to keep pushing. Your body was being put through the most gruesome test ever. But you kept the negativity to a minimum and thought only of your family for your own sanity. 
And then it was done. There were loud whimpers. Your baby girl was given to you first, followed by your son. You couldn’t remember a time when you were more occupied with emotion. 
Haechan gawked in awe. For a moment he couldn’t even believe that this wasn’t just a dream and fought off tears the best he could. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the tears blurring your vision. Your kids were here at last and they were the light of your life. 
The first hour was spent making plenty of skin-to-skin contact and bonding with your babies. Haechan was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt. He was already obsessed with the tiny little humans he’d helped make and all of your mutual sacrifice seemed so worth it. 
There were many things that had to happen before you could leave the hospital, but two days later, you were at home resting. Sleep was all you wanted (even though your vocal children had other plans). Which, after the exhausting process you endured only days before, was well-deserved. 
One week passed since you were discarded from the hospital. After a period spent catching up on rest to the best of your ability, you started to accept visitors. Chaewon and Jaemin, the wonderful godparents that they were, assisted with fielding phone calls and text messages from curious loved ones. 
The mood in your home was different the day you and Haechan allowed visitors. Your bedroom was like a club and Haechan was serving as a bouncer, letting them in one-by-one in case you got overwhelmed. 
Chaewon had seen the babies a little earlier than the others. She was your best friend, after all. “They’re so cute,” she’d gushed. 
The babies in question were nested comfortably on your chest. They were also resting. There was a smile tugging at your lips, irresistible. Your heart was at peace. 
Ironically, Mark was the first to show up. Again. “Yo, yo, yo. Where’s my niece and nephew?”
“Shh. They’re sleeping,” Haechan scolded from the door. 
Mark’s eyes were wide, lips parted. “They must be sleepy, huh?”
You quipped, “Yeah. Apparently, wailing all night long is exhausting.”
“I was thinking they’d be tired of Haechan’s shit, but yeah, that checks out too,” Mark retorted. 
Haechan cursed under his breath. Then, he said aloud, “If I wasn’t a better man, I would pummel you to the ground.”
“A better man, my ass,” Mark taunted. His words were promptly followed by a gasp and he put his hands over his mouth. “I meant… my butt.”
You giggled. 
Mark switched on a dime. Concern washed over his face, tenderness in his eyes. “Dude, are you okay, though? Like, pregnancy is huge. It had to be eventful.”
“It was a lot of things,” you murmured, briefly bringing yourself back to that moment. You weren’t going to miss it too much, but it was beautiful. “I went through so many emotions. But I’m happy we’re all here.”
Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I am, too.”
When he exited the room, Winter promptly entered. And she gasped at the first sight of your babies, eyes dampening. “Oh my god!”
Her reaction made you snicker. “Yes, I know. They’re adorable.”
“Understatement of the year,” she drawled. “These are by far the cutest kids I’ve ever seen in my life.”
You grinned. “Thanks.”
Jaemin poked around the corner. Much like Chaewon, he had already seen your babies and spoken to them, cooing and babbling. “Somebody’s sleepy,” he retorted. 
You bobbed your head. “They should be.”
Jaemin didn’t miss a beat, “Guess they got sick of putting up with this guy.”
Haechan’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, “You’re late. Mark already made that joke.”
Winter giggled. You stifled one on your boyfriend’s behalf. 
There was a gap in between the next visits large enough for you to take a nap and you didn’t rouse until shortly before your fifth visitor. 
f
As if it wasn’t obvious, you ignored Jeno’s nervousness. He looked a little surprised, lips parted when he caught a glimpse of your kids from the door. After he made small talk with Haechan, he entered and said, “Wow.”
Your babies were awake now. And surprisingly calm. For now. “I know.”
Jeno cleared his throat. “They’re beautiful. Congratulations, both of you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, staring adoringly at your kids. 
Jeno searched tirelessly for things to say. He didn’t want the wrong words to come out of his mouth, but you personally inviting him over shocked him. He asked, “How was labor?”
“Laborious,” you replied dryly. 
Jeno snorted. 
Haechan wasn’t shy to brag, “She was a champ. I’ve never been more proud.”
Your face was warm. And so was your heart. 
“I’m sure she was,” Jeno said, gleaming. 
You tilted your head. “Would you like to hold one of them?”
Jeno gawked. “Can I?”
You nodded. 
“Okay. Yeah, sure,” Jeno stammered out. 
Glancing down at your son, you cooed, “You wanna go to Uncle Jeno? Yeah?”
Shock flickered over Jeno’s face, as if he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth. With maternal cautiousness, you handed him your closest child, which happened to be your son. Jeno watched for his head without having to be instructed, holding your baby as if he would shatter. 
These babies were a part of you and Haechan, and Jeno swore that if there was anything you ever needed him to do for them, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running. 
“Hi,” Jeno greeted, smiling at your son. “You’re really lucky, you know. You have the best mom and dad on the whole planet.”
You smiled softly.
“Am I…,” Ryujin trailed, strolling down the hallway. Imagine her shock when she noticed Jeno standing there. “Late?”
Jeno cleared his throat. “Ryujin.”
Ryujin’s arms folded. “Jeno.”
“You look good,” Jeno said, mouth suddenly dry. 
Ryujin was eyeing him, skeptical, as if she still didn’t trust him. But you could see the sadness in her stare. “You, too,” she replied quietly. 
Jeno gently placed your son back in your arms, making sure he was secure before he released his grip. 
“We forgive him, Ryujin,” Haechan said, even if it took months. 
Ryujin’s eyes flickered. Jeno stepped in front of her and glanced at the floor. If there was something he wanted to tell her, he lacked the courage. 
“Look me in the eyes.”
Jeno did it. He would do anything to make his mistakes up to the people he owed to. 
Ryujin wrapped her arms around him. Jeno stiffened for a second, not expecting that of all reactions, but gently hugged her back. While they were reconciling, you and Haechan glanced at each other. There was a telepathic exchange of thought between the two of you. 
Then, Ryujin pulled back, and whined, “Ugh, I just realized something. We’re uneven again.”
Haechan snorted in disbelief. Of course that was what she was worried about. 
“Not if you include the kids plus Haechan and I’s future cat,” you quipped smartly. 
Ryujin beamed in amusement. “I think I can work with that.”
Glancing down at your two lovely kids, the cutest of hats on their tiny little heads, you grinned and said, “Yeah, so do I.”
597 notes · View notes
bunni-v1 · 9 months
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Aommgg
Could I request the nrc staff + grim finding out you‘re a girl (plantonic)?
Or do they all know straight from the start?
TW: None
Info: Crowley, Grim, Sam, Cruel, Trien x Reader (Platonic)
🍓Hello lovely! I didn't want to make a whole long post about this, but I do want to talk about it. I'm so glad you asked! So the staff is... made aware of the situation, obviously. But, I think I'll go a little into depth on how each member deals with this information.
Crowley knows because... well... he sees you out of the ceremonial robes before anyone else does. He handles it as well as he does every other issue he comes across. "Just cover it up!" Famously said by Crowley. He's not unkind though, he does ensure that you get the help you need and he makes sure you keep what you need hidden, well, hidden. But... he won't do more than the bare minimum unless his hand is forced. Like... with Scarabia, he pretty much threatened the whole dorm with expulsion if they so much as uttered a word to anyone but amongst themselves. He is, unsurprisingly, not a father figure to you. He's more like... you're weird quirky uncle that you like, but only in small doses.
Grim, our little guy, finds out at the same time as Crowley... and he's a little harder to convince to keep his mouth shut to start. He doesn't like you, okay, you stole his position at NRC (like he had a chance at all). With a few well-placed cans of tuna from both you and Crowley, he keeps his little rat mouth shut. However, when you're actually granted studentship as NRC? His tune changes. It changes because Crowley holds his position as a student over his head, but it changes. Not a SINGLE person will ever hear you're a woman from Grim. He can't lose this position, not after so much work to get where he's gotten to. Besides, he grows to really love you! You're family to him, and no one out family. Seriously, he's so protective of it, once Ace and Deuce figure it out they're too scared to talk because of Grim's looming presence.
Sam is the first member of Staff to find out, other than Crowley. How? Crowley's sudden interest in pads, tampons, birth control, and all the fun stuff that comes with being a woman. Sam usually would just shrug his shoulders and excuse Crowley's quirky behavior, but then you come in looking like a lost deer and he gets it. He is genuinely so nice to you though! If you ever feel unsafe on campus, you talk to Sam and he'll handle it for you, okay? Sure, he jacks up the prices on your feminine products, but it's considerably less than his normal prices. Hell, if you're short, he'll "suddenly" remember he's got a discount on those items. He's like a cool older brother, honestly. He lets you hang out in the back of the shop and do homework when you ask, and he gives you snacks at a discount when you're there!
Crewel doesn't really treat you any differently than anyone else. Admittedly though, he's fond of you, even if you're a troublemaker. When you come into his class on your first day in a uniform six times too big for you, he feels pity for you. You didn't ask to be here, and now you have to wear that atrocious old uniform? You poor little pup. He's not exactly easy on you, but he's more understanding of your mistakes. Eventually, after you get to know him better, he offers to get you a nicer uniform and also privately tutor you. This is his excuse for keeping you busy so that you don't have as many chances to get found out, and it's also because you are horrifically failing his class and it looks bad on him.
Trien treats you the most differently out of everyone on staff. The SECOND he found out you were a girl and were being forced to hide that fact for Crowley's sake? Oh my god, grandpa was PISSED. Crowley got an EARFUL after that meeting. This man makes it his mission to make your stay as comfortable as he possibly can make it because sevens know Crowley won't be doing SHIT. After he meets you? Oh my god, you remind him of his own girls when they were little. He absolutely adores you, and everyone can tell. It's so odd to the other students because he clearly favors you, and when they ask you about it you've got no clue. He is your dad here at NRC, as out of character as that might be. You are a young woman lost in a world that is not kind to you going through so much more than you need to. He doesn't want to add more to your plate. You can come to him for anything and he will provide as best as he can.
Vargas (I'm sorry for forgetting about him lol) is a lot like Crewel in the fact that he doesn't treat you too differently from his other students. You're still made to push yourself to your upper limits for gym, still expected to keep up with your peers, and still expected to meet his general expectations. However, if it's way too much for you to do, out of fear of Crowley and Trien breathing down his neck, he'll lessen your load. Otherwise, he doesn't really have much chance to be around you outside of class. He finds you amusing and knows you've got a good head on your shoulders, but that's about it from him.
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spidybaby · 9 days
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hi! pls do something where reader is xavis daughter and shes helpin' him with water and other things at the trainings because shes like grounded but not everyone knows shes his kid and she and pedri become closer and he defend her when one of the team say something cruel to her pls
Sorry my english is not the best is not my first language
Water girl
Summary: The team doesn't know you're Xavi's daughter until Pedri and you begin a relationshp and everything comes to light.
Warnings: cursing, physical altercation, slut shaming.
A/N: This is long, I kinda got inspired and wanted to share something with you. Hope you like it ❤️ love you✨️🌸 @gadriezmannsgirl hi 😛❤️
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"You have to be kidding me. There's no way in hell I'm spending my vacation like this." You yell, hurrying upstairs.
The thing about being the kid of an elite football player is that you're not faster than them. They will always win.
You tried to close your door, but Xavi managed to stop it before it closed. "Go away, oh my God."
"That's the good thing about being your father, mi reina. You obey what I say, not the other way around. So go change and meet me in the car."
He slams the door on his way out. But the door is opened again, this time by Nuria. "You better hurry up. He's going to come back and take you to the car even if you're in pajamas."
"Nu, that's totally unfair." You whine, walking to your closet. "Are you seriously allowing this?"
"Don't forget to put on some sunscreen." She waves you goodbye and close the door.
You grab a leggin, an oversized t-shirt, and put on your Jordans. You did put on some sunscreen, not wanting to do anything with your hair, only putting it up.
"Bye, if I die, this is on you guys. Hope you know that." You told your stepmother on your way out. She laughs at your annoyed behavior.
Xavi is waiting on his car. He has this big smile on his face. To you is like he's laughing at you. You walk slowly to the car, making him raise an eyebrow.
"I'm the boss, I can be late if I want to, so don't worry. No matter how slow we are still going to make it." He says as you open the car door.
"Papi, please."
"Let's go, reina."
Having no other option, you hop up. He was giving you a talk about life and having goals. The talk continued until you made it to the training camp.
"Your uncle Oscar is waiting for you. Please go to my office." He says, handing you a "staff" card. "This opens the doors."
You obey, walking the way you already know. The long hallway that only staff members are allowed to be, and different offices, some for the technical team, some for meetings, his office.
You knocked before walking inside, your uncle was on his phone, writing something he was reading on a board.
"Hey."
"Hola, reina." He smiles, leaving what he's doing to get close and hug you. "So happy to see you again."
"Hola, I missed you so much." You hug him back. He was patting your back. "Please help me, I don't want to do this."
The sound of the door opening and laughs saved the moment for you. It was your dad with a blonde lady.
"Oh hello! It's so good to have you back."
"Hello." You smiled, not the best at picking conversations.
"Gosh, Xavi. Your daughter is so big. I remember when I last saw you at your father vows renewal, you were so small."
"This is Martina. She's the boss of the interns and some social media people." Xavi says, you smile again but this time nodding your head. "She will be your boss."
"Your father tells me that you wanted to get something to do now that you're here in Barcelona."
"Yes, something to do." You say sarcastically, Xavi gave you a look. "I'm happy to be here." You lie.
"Well, I need some help in the recovery training. They need someone who helps with the water."
"Like a water girl?"
"Si, you're going to be their water girl."
You nod, eyes on your father, who's smiling in a particular way that's making you angry. "That's great, let's go."
Martina guides you to the little room with coolers, some freezers with ice packs, a bunch of stock of Gatorade, water, and water bottles of the sponsor.
"So, we already fill this one with Gatorade and some wattle bottles from prime, the players who are in recovery have a more private training, so you're with them."
You let her explain to you the training hours, the days the social media girls were there to film and that day you had to bring the prime bottles, the Gatorade thing that makes squishi drinks and how to fill it.
"I want to ask you something."
"Whatever you want, yes?"
"I don't want anyone to know that I'm Xavi's daughter, I want just to be like an intern, maybe?"
Martina nods her head. She gets what you mean, not wanting to be favored. "We can do that." She smiled. "Also, we have these t-shirts for interns to change into, so before going to the training camp, you can change."
You went to the nearest bathroom and changed the oversized t-shirt. Leaving the old one in the little closet because Martina said so.
You grab the small cooler, walking with Martina, who was explaining to you who you were working with. You had to be there the whole training and offer the player some water every two series of exercise.
"You're today with Raphinha and Pedri. So it's going to be easy, they're nice and friendly."
She led you to the training camp, Oscar was helping the two players to warm. He waves you happy, and you return the wave.
"If you need a pointer, Pedri likes blue Gatorade and Raph likes the red one."
"Which one is Pedri?" You ask confused, not really knowing who was who because you weren't used to the team.
"The one without tattoos. I have a meeting with some interns, see you later, hun."
"Okay, have fun in your meeting."
The training was boring, nothing new. They were making a smoother training because of their injuries.
Oscar stands next to you, almost at the middle of the training. "Your dad once brought you to the training. You made everybody do push-ups. He went home super proud about you liking football."
You smile at the story, not really remembering about it. "Uncle Andres used to say I was going to be playing as a forward."
"Nah, you have more as a midfielder."
"What position do they play on?"
"Pedri is a midfielder, Raphinha is a right winger." He points at them once he mentions their names. "Venga chicos, take five and we continue."
You get up from the bench, walking to the players. They were chatting and making jokes.
"Hola, tengo agua." You say awkwardly. (Hi, I got water)
Raphinha laughed at how uncomfortable you look, more used to interns or water girls who were ready to flirt with them.
"First day?"
"Is it that obvious?" You shrug your eyes.
"A little, just used to other type of treatment." He jokes, moving his eyebrows up and down.
You don't know what face you made, but Pedri laughed at your facial expressions.
"Te mandaron a comer papilla." He laughs, hitting Raphinha on his arm. (You were rejected)
"I like you. Can you pass me the red Gatorade?" Raphinha looks at you up and down.
You get both colors, passing one to Pedri as well. He thanked you and smiled a little with you. You go back next to your uncle.
Training was quick. It wasn't like the first team due to their injuries.
You can't help but feel something weird about the job. You haven't been on a training or stadium since you were a kid.
"Hola, oye, puedes darme una botella de agua?" (Can you pass me a bottle of water), he whispers, noticing that you're distracted.
You go back to reality. Nodding and handing him the bottle of water.
"Is it fun working here?" He asks.
"Considering this is my first day like you figure out, I think it's good." You say, half smile on your face.
"Bueno, not all first times are good." He shrugs, smiling at you.
You wanted to laugh, but you just smile and nod. "Yep, that's true."
"Thank you." He hands you the bottle again. Walking back to the field.
🪷🪷🪷
The next days were easy for you. Even when you didn't want to say it, you did enjoy watching them train and do other activities than be home.
You got assigned with the recovery team as long as there were players training.
"For how long are they training like this?" You ask curious.
"Until the medical team tell us that they can train and play with the first team."
"What happened to Pedri?" You say, eyes fixed on his back. He was doing some penalties practice.
"He injured himself a long time ago, and that same injury is coming back now." He says, you nod in response. "Frenkie, don't skip that part, I'm watching you, son."
They do another five rounds until the next break. Pedri walked over to you again. "El calor está." He wipes the sweat with his hand. "How can you look so fresh? It's like hell fire."
"I used to live in Brazil, this is fresh for them." You confess.
"Wow, Brazil." He smiles. "Can I have some water?"
"Two euros per bottle." You joke, handing him the bottle. "And five per Gatorade."
"I don't have change on me, but if I found you after the training, I'll make sure to pay my debt." He smiles, throwing the bottle back in the cooler.
"I'll take that as a promise." You say, returning the smile.
"Maybe you can tell me about Brazil." He says, going back to the middle of the field where Oscar is explaining something to Frenkie.
You check your phone while the training finishes. You texted Nuria what you were doing with a picture of the cooler.
"Reina, go back inside. The weather is crazy hot, and we're almost done. You can leave the cooler."
"You sure?" You ask, leaving your phone. "I can wait."
"Do me a favor, this are notes about today's training, take them to my office and you can go do some other thing."
You nod, leaving the little cooler there and asking him to take care of it, saying you will be back for it.
You walked back to the office. You still have your dad's card from the first day so you can enter every place.
You wanted to stay inside and relax in the air conditioner but you wanted to do a nice job as you were charged.
You go back to the field to collect the cooler and take it to its place. Stealing a Gatorade for yourself while you walk back inside.
"That would be five euros, or do you have a discount?"
You turn to find Pedri smiling. He has a prime bottle in his hands. You smile back, sipping on your drink again.
"It's the payment for our job." You say, sassy teasing tone.
"I thought interns didn't get paid."
"We don't?" You ask, confused. "Well, that's sad."
You pout at the thought of it. He finds that funny because he thought the first thing they told the interns is that they're not getting paid.
"So I own you seven." He jokes.
"Make it twenty, I have to make a living." You shrug smiling. Thing that makes him smile back.
"Twenty and a talk? Or those come with an extra charge." The tone of his voice and the way he's closer than before got you thinking not so good things.
You were about to answer, but a voice calling your name from behind makes you turn back.
"How was your first day?" Martina asks. "Pedri, hola."
"Hola, I was returning the bottle and saying a little thank you for helping with the water today, especially with this weather."
"Super hot." Martina laughs. "So good you had a nice day. Let me help you with the little cooler, and you can follow me."
"Sure," you whisper to her. Turning back to the black hair boy. "See you around." You wave your hand goodbye, following Martina.
She guides you to a room with three other people, all boys. They were seated around a little table talking.
"Hey boys, this is Y/n." She introduces you, you smile waving at them. "She's new, just came and she's our new water girl."
"Hey, that's my job," a blonde guy jokes. "I'm Marcus. This is Pablo, and this is Carlos."
"Hi, nice to meet you all. Sorry about the job, by the way."
"Please explain to her the time slip and Marcus, don't worry, I'll find you a new thing to do."
She left, saying her goodbyes. You stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do know.
"Take a sit, we were chatting about the next game." Carlos pat the chair next to him. "Are you a barca fan or just here for the experience?"
"Here for the experience." You say. "Are you barca fans?"
"Carlos is a Madrid fan but don't tell anybody."
"I'm not, I just said I like Ronaldo more than Messi."
They kept doing jokes about football, you check the time slip on the wall, to your surprise you are on it.
Most of the "soft training" was assigned to you, only two days for the "regular training" that was with the whole team.
"Hey, new girl."
"Si?"
"We have a fifteen minute break. We usually sneak in the kitchen and stole some food."
"I'm in, let's go."
🪷🪷🪷
You helped with ordering the equipment for the first team, putting the cones in order and taking out the bands they used to exercise in duos.
You finished positioning the equipment, leaving the field as the players began walking upstairs.
"Hey, come here." Xavi calls you. You walk over to your dad slowly, noticing him getting impatient. "Can you hurry?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Can you go help your uncle at the gym?"
"Doing what?" You ask funny, "holding the weight while he works out?" You smirk.
"Don't be a smart-ass, reina." He tries not to laugh. "He's helping Pedri and Lewandowski. He needs help with something, I'm not sure."
You nod, walking downstairs and to the gym. After getting into the wrong place for the second time, you knew you had to ask someone.
"Are you lost?" Pedri asks.
You smile at the dark-haired boy in front of you. "Yes, this place is too big."
"Trust me, we all got lost the first week." He laughs at the thought. "Where are you going?".
"The gym, Xavi assigned me to help Oscar."
He points the direction with his head. Making you walk side by side with him.
"Oye, don't think I forgot you own me fifty." You joke. Hitting his shoulder with yours.
"Why is the price increasing by the hour?"
"Why not?" You laugh with him. "But don't worry, after the fifty the talk is free."
"It better be," He jokes back. "Well, here we are."
You walk over to your uncle, asking him how can you help him. He instructed you to help him take time and to write down the weight the players are lifting.
You sat in a machine with a notepad and a chronometer. You were timing every round to help with consistency in the training.
"Be nice with me, please," Pedri says, getting ready to start. "If I fail, you lie and say I'm the best, okay?"
"Don't," Robert interrupts. "If he sucks you can say it outloud. Please."
"Lewa, go away."
Between laughs and jokes of the two players, you finished the rest of the day, Robert and Pedri were easy to be around.
When they finished their work, you got sent back with the other interns, saying your goodbyes to them.
🪷🪷🪷
The three weeks of helping at the club were easy.
You helped the injured guys with the water.
You helped the social media team, and you did a lot of things.
Xavi was impressed that after the first week, you wanted to keep going. He was hoping you would beg him not to take you, but instead, you were waiting for him to go first thing in the morning.
"Y/n, you will be with the first team today. The boys are helping with a project, so you will be alone."
You nod, giving her a thumbs up.
"First time alone with the big team." Marcus says. "If you want advice, do what the Mister tells you. He kinda screams at everybody when the players won't do what he says."
"I'll be frustrated, too." You say, honestly. "I mean, half of them can't even create an opportunity, and when they got an assist, they won't even do anything."
"Yes, but I think Xavi plays a big role into that. Maybe the rumors about him leaving aren't that bad after all."
You shut your mouth, not wanting to say something offensive to him. Your dad gave his heart to the team during very bad times when they could barely afford the players.
"I'm going to the field."
"Don't get defensive," he laughs. "I mean, I get that as a cule you love the old players, but Xavi is a little bit out of date. Like go home, with your wife and your perfect kids."
"Do you ever shut up?" You ask, laughing to make the situation less tense. "Let's not talk about him when we don't even know what his home life is like, and maybe don't do this at work."
"Wow, you're so uptight."
You scuff, walking with the heavy cooler to the field.
When you make it to the stairs, you notice that maybe being alone wasn't that cool. You got to get the cooler upstairs on your own.
A cooler with more than twenty bottles of water on a very large set of stairs. Great idea.
"Do you need help, new girl?"
Raphinha and Fermin got closer. A few of the players behind them.
"Hola. Yes, thank you.
"Raph, grab that side." Fermin says, lifting the left side of the cooler. "Why do they even let you get here all by yourself?"
"I think they didn't think about this part." You shrug.
The two boys helped you. You stayed a little behind due to the social media team filming them doing it.
"Y/n!" Pedri says, grabbing your shoulders. "Hey, thank you for that show recommendation. My brother and I saw it last night, and now I can't wait to go home and see more of it."
You smile at his words. Two weeks back, you exchanged numbers. You were getting closer by the day so you trusted him.
"Well, Pedri." You say, funny tone. "Hello to you too, nice evening. I'm doing so great. Thank you for asking. How are you today?" You smile.
He blushed, he knows you're joking but still feels the blush spreading onto his face.
"I'm doing good." He answers, hands intertwine behind his back. Clearly nervous. "Thank you for asking."
You wanted to keep the conversation, but you two heard Xavi calling the players to warm up.
"Venga, let's go. If not, we're both getting in trouble, me for not hydrating the team and you for not warming up enough."
He liked the way you joke, how your face had the right expression for your feelings. He liked how you treated him like a normal person and not like the footballer.
"What are you doing this weekend?" He asked, making you stop halfway on the stairs. "We have the day off. So I thought that maybe we could go out. I know this place to eat thats amazing and I think you would like it."
You can't help the smile that's on your lips. You liked him, maybe more than you care to admit.
"Looks like now I have a plan." You turn around after that, walking the remaining stairs. Little did he know that you did that for him not to notice your red face. "See you this weekend." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear.
You can tell Pedri is happy. The way he kept looking at you and sending you smiles is something else.
"Hey" you feel someone pocke you in the ribs.
When you turn, you find Marcus. Honestly, he was the last person you wanted to see. After the way he insulted your father, you didn't even want to cross words with him.
"Hey, you guys done with the project?" You ask, eyes watching the other players.
"Yeah, Martina sent us to different places, and I was sent here." He sits at the edge of the cooler. You didn't move, not wanting to have him next to you. "So, the boys and I are doing something this weekend, we were thinking about going out for some food. Would you like to come?"
"I actually have plans, but have fun." You say, very dry tone. "And let's get up, they're almost done and I need to get them some water."
Marcus was that one guy that hits on you and gets offended when you don't even look at him. But he keeps trying, trying again, and trying again.
The other boys were fine, they joke with you, they share stories, they are teammates. Marcus was just not it for you.
"I can help you with that, let me do it." He says, pulling the cooler to the middle of the field without waiting for your answer.
Xavi waved at you to get your attention from one side of the field. You walked to him, eyes turning back to the field to find those brown eyes looking at you.
"Hola, papi." You say, smiling at him. "Do you want some water?"
"I'm fine, reina." He smiles back. "Hey, meet me in my office after practice. I need to talk to you."
You nod. Not thinking much of it. He always had this mysterious behavior about talks, and in the end, it was him asking you to make a reservation at some restaurant or asking you how to send a link to Oscar.
You walked back to the team, Marcus was chatting with Raphinha, leaving the cooler abandoned.
You can't help but exhale exasperated. He was acting like he was everyone's boss. The boys tolerated it, but you didn't have to.
"Oye! I forgot to give my bottle back." You heard, making you turn. "Sorry, I was chatting."
"It's okay, are you done?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask if you have more. I threw half at Pedri." He laughs.
You laugh with him, Ferran was so comic to you. He always messed with other players. Specifically with Pedri, to the point of them not being called out when he did something to him.
"I think we have some extras." You say, checking the cooler and handing him a new bottle. "Just don't shower anymore players."
Ferran was about to answer, but a very entitled Marcus walked by and rudely asked if he was finished.
"She's waiting for me, don't worry." He says in this particular tone that makes you smirk. Marcus just shrugs and leaves. Walking down the stairs. "Is he always like that?"
"Sometimes, I think he thinks that just because he named himself the boss he actually is."
"So we don't like him?" He asks, eyebrow lifted.
"We did, but I don't think we do anymore."
"We good then." He says, making this funny expression. "Thank you. By the way, what flowers are your favorites?"
You were taken aback by the question.
"I think I don't have a favorite set of flowers." You say, thinking about an answer. "I like lilies, but they're not my favorite tho"
"Okay, good to know." He nods. "I have to get back, thanks for the water." He hands you the bottle and runs to where Pedri is.
You can't help the little smile that creeps your face. He was bringing you flowers.
You spend the rest of the training with your eyes sticked to him. The little smiles he sends you and the way Ferran notices and mock him.
When you finish with them, you decide to walk to the little room the club gives to interns. You feel the effects of the new weather coming.
"Why are you here alone?" Marcus asked you. "If you don't have anything to do, I can find something for you to do."
"No need, I have to help Misted Xavi with something." You close your little locker, trying to walk out of the room.
He grabs your arm, stopping you from walking out. "I was thinking, maybe we can hang out some time."
You kindly removed his hand from your arm, smiling so you don't seem rude. "I'm going to be honest with you." You sigh, knowing this was going to be uncomfortable. "I'm not interested. You're not my type. And no, I don't want to create a friendship with you."
The way the smirk he had is now erased from his face, making you want to laugh. Not to be mean, but he was that kind of dude that believed he was above everyone and everything.
Walking out and to your fathers' office, happy about finally letting your feelings out about the whole Marcus situation.
"Well, hello, Mister Xavi." You say, opening the door. Oscar and him are sitting on the couch of his office, Xavi with his head on his hands. "What's wrong?"
They look at each other, but Oscar decided to speak. "Nothing, we wanted to tell you that you can go home early."
You narrow your eyes, that was not something your father was used to do, having a free day? An early out? Noup.
"Papi, are you okay?" you ask, just to make sure you're good to actually go.
"Si, go before I change my mind." he half smiles. "and pick some milk on your way home". He throws the car keys on your way.
"Yes sir, see you later."
You walk fast to your locker, happy that you can leave early. You tell two of the boys that you were let go for the day and said your goodbye to Martina.
You were too busy on your phone to notice Carlos getting something inside his car trunk.
You open the car, sliding into the seat and picking a Playlist. Three bangs on the glass made you let your phone go.
You pull the window down, finding a very smiley Carlos. "Is the Uber available?"
You smile, hand on your chest to calm your heart. "Hola, what do you mean uber? You gave me a ride to the mall the other day." You joke with him.
He became your friend, he was funny and very respectful. He even shares his snacks with you. "Dude, I love your car." He takes a look at the car. "Can I drive it?"
You laugh, knowing you barely even drive it because your dad takes care of it more than he takes care of you.
"Maybe later, I have to go. I got let go."
"You got fired?" He asks, not understanding what you meant.
"No, I mean, I'm going home early. Don't throw me out just yet." You laugh. "Have fun, and don't listen to Marcus."
"I won't, drive safe." He waves as he walks away.
🪷🪷🪷
"Should I wear this or this?" You ask Nuria. She was helping you with your hair. "Or maybe another color?"
She laughs, noticing how nervous you are. "Can you calm down? You will look beautiful and this mystery guy will fall on his knees." She pats your shoulders.
"I just haven't had a date in so long. I'm rusty." You joke, changing your outfit in the closet while she organized your hair tools. "Okay, opinions." You say showing her your full outfit.
She takes your hand, making you turn. "Hermosa." She hugs you. "Maybe to make it a little casual some white sneakers?" She suggests.
You agree with her. Talking while putting your shoes on. You take a last look on your makeup and hair.
"Can you tell me who the guy is? That way, I won't be nervous about you out with a stanger." She smiles, passing you your jacket. "Or can you share your location with me? I won't tell."
"I'll share the location." You say, grabbing your phone to do it. "Plus, I'm taking your car, so if the date goes downhill, I'll come back."
"Take care, and please call me if anything. Also, don't hesitate to use the pepper spray I bought you. And have fun." She rambles, making you laugh.
You sent her a kiss as you walked out the door. You texted Pedri that you were on your way, and he texted back saying he was almost there.
You were nervous about the date, not because of Pedri but because you were scared of messing up. Plus, he didn't know who you really are.
You park, walking to the host and telling her Pedri's second last name, he uses that name yo avoid people finding he's there. Even tho you'll only need to know the barca team and recognize him.
"Hola." You say, hands on his shoulders. He jumped a little. "Sorry, didn't meant to scare you."
"You didn't, hola." He hugs you, turning to grab the bouquet of flowers. "This is for you. Hope you like them."
Lilies.
Just like you told Ferran.
"Thank you, this is so cute." You smile. When you grab the back of the chair to move it. He does it for you. "Gracias, Pedri." You smile at him.
"You look preciosa." He thinks outloud. When he notice the blush on your cheeks and how you are avoiding his gaze. It's when he notice he said that and not only thought it.
"I like your hair today, I like it when you don't blow dry it." You joke with him.
You two joke a little, ordering some food. He recommended you a dish a d a drink, you let him do the ordering.
"This is so good."
"I knew you would like it." He smiles. "How is your dish?"
"Delicious, want a bite?" You ask, and before he could answer you, you grab some of it with your fork. "Open your mouth."
"Fuaa." He says, head thrown back. "That's great. Taste mine."
He repeats your action, feeding you with his food for you to taste it. "Yummy." You smile.
You two talk a about your hobbies, your music taste. Random things you would talk about, nothing crazy.
"And my parents have a restaurant, so mom cooked the croquettes for me all the time." He tells you the story of his favorite food. "And now I miss it cause I want it but I can't have it like I used to."
"I never had croquettes in my life." You confess. "I like seafood. In Brazil, I used to eat a lot of shrimp and fish. Loveeeee fish."
"Why did you come back?" He asks. "Or are you from there?"
"I was born here, actually." You began the story. "But my parents separated when I was seven, and my mom took us to Brazil two years later."
"So you spent most of your life in Brazil?"
"It's complicated. My dad and mom got into a custody battle, and I was with her from nine to fifteen. Then I was forced to come back but only for a few months cause I was sent to a boarding school in Switzerland."
"And how did you end as a intern imfor Barça?"
"My dad forced me. He was teaching me a lesson. And he knows Martina, so it was easy."
"Oh." He says. He was speechless at how crazy your life sounds. "If I can say something, I'm glad you are here."
You smile, "Thank you, I'm happy I'm back, and I'm happy to be here with you."
It's his time to blush. He really likes you. Without Ferran's encouragement, he would have never asked you out. He was nervous and awkward about it.
"Do you want dessert?" He asks, noticing you finish your drink. "Other drink?"
"You want me full tonight, sir." You laugh, making him laugh. "I'll have some if you do."
"You are making me break my diet." He laughs. "Fine, let's get those desserts."
The rest of the dinner was fine. You two had fun talking and telling stories of things that happened to you as kids.
"Are you sure you don't want to split the bill?" You ask one more time.
"Not at all, it's on me, you did your part whe you got pretty for this." He smiles.
The blush that creeps into your cheeks is crazy. You can feel your whole face burning up from the feeling.
"Did you drive here?"
"Yes, don't worry. Thank you very much for this." You hug him. "Can we do this again? I really want to see you again."
He's taken aback from your honesty. He likes that. "Si, I want that too." He smiles. "Do you like going to the movies?"
"Love doing that."
"Want to go to the movies to see this new Ryan Gosling movie?" He walks you to your car.
"Si, text me the details." You hug him again. "Popcorn is on me," you say, kissing his cheek. You enter your car. He was kinda petrifie. Hee wanted to react. "Pedri," you call him.
He comes back to the real world. "Si, bonita?"
"Tell me when you are home." You say, pulling up your window.
He waited to be in his car to freak out about how you kissed his cheek and how you asked him on a second date.
He drives home happy, ready to call Ferran and tell him all about it. How you liked the lilies, how you enjoyed food, and how you even have a second date.
When you got home, Nuria and you went to your room and you told her everything, showed her your bouquet of flowers and even told her that you have a second date with him.
🪷🪷🪷
Your situationship with Pedri was better than you expected. It's been an ongoing this for a few months now. It's the perfect time to get to know him and for him to get to know you.
You two meet up after club hours. You even began going to some of the games to support him.
As a joke, Ferran gave you a shirt with his number. Making you and Pedri laugh. You use it because it makes Pedri smile every time he watches you there, knowing you follow Ferran and his crazy idea.
Carlos knows about you and Pedri. He's your friend, you trusted him with the information and he asked you in exchange a bag of gummy bears to not tell.
He wears Pedris number for you. And he became friends with Pedri and Ferran. You four are like a nice group.
You were organizing the water closet with Carlos. Talking about music and about this new show that he's seeing.
"And this girl, she's the starting." He explains. "She has a secret romance with one of the higher-ups. Just like you." He pokes you.
"Want me to give you a speaker so you can say it louder?" You hit his arm lightly.
"Are you going on a date with him tonight?"
"I am. We are going to watch something, probably."
"If you watch the movie I recommend you. Please do a review without spoilers for me tomorrow." He says, passing you a bottle of Gatorade.
Marcus was hearing the conversation. Martina sent him to grab you for a quick meeting. But he couldn't help but hear your conversation.
"Are you coming to the game this weekend?" You ask. "He wants me here, and I don't want to be alone."
"Are you getting me popcorn?"
"Yes." You say, laughing and rolling your eyes. "I dont know if I'm nervous because this game can get us La Liga or because his family may be there."
"Maybe both?"
"Si, maybe both." You say, finishing with the work. "We are done."
Marcus hears this and walks like he just got there.
"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt. Martina wants us to have a quick meeting." He smiles. "I thought you were organizing the equipment."
"No, we are here today." Carlos answers. "Let's go."
Marcus was curious. Who was the person you were "dating." Probably someone married if you are talking about his family being there.
After the meeting, you got a text from your dad, asking you to come to his office to talk about something.
"Hola pare, em necessitaves?" (Hi dad, did you need me?) You speak to him in catalan.
"Hola, Reina." He hugs you. "How's work?"
"Good, I restocked the water closet. We have fresh water bottles. And I had a meeting about a thing Martina wants us to do."
"Great, that's fine."
You squinted your eyes. He was up to something. "Dad, anything you want to ask me or tell me?"
He rolls his eyes. "Can't a father make conversation with his firstborn?"
"Xavier?"
"Promise me you won't be mad at Asia."
You know what is coming. You heavily exhale. "Go on."
"A little bird, named Asia. Told me you are dating someone."
"Dad, this is work." You laugh. "Plus, I'm not."
You were honest, Pedri, and you weren't dating. You were acquaintances who happened to enjoy each others company.
"Okay." He laughs. "We can play the we are at work thing."
You don't notice how the door is open, thinking everybody is doing something more important than walking around.
But Marcus wasn't. He was walking around trying to find Oscar to talk to him about being able to go to the game for free as a part of the club workers. But when he heard your voice and Xavi's, he stayed.
"I wanted to tell you this when we were at dinner, but I feel like I can do it. I'm going to the game." You tell him.
Your dad loves it when you come to his games. It makes him think of you as a little girl wearing his jersey.
"Nuria and the kids are coming too."
"The kids too?" You ask, confused. "Don't they have to go with their grandparents?"
Marcus raises his eyebrows. His wife and kids are coming. You and him will have dinner together.
Then it clicks, you were talking about Xavi. And Carlos knew about you and him.
"Anyways, I have to go." You say, getting up and walking to his mini fridge. "I'm taking one of your special drinks. After all, I earn it."
You two laugh, you hug your father. "Back to work. I don't want my father to find out I'm not working." You joke.
"I'm sure he won't mind. You are with the Mister, he will understand."
"Yeah, you don't know him." You tease him. "But you'll like him, maybe we can arrange a meeting, sir."
"Go to work, reina." He laughs, shaking his head while he does it.
Marcus hides in an office, waiting a few minutes before going out. He was mind blowned, you were having something with Xavi.
He walks back to the comune corridors. Not paying attention to his surroundings, the only thing in his mind was this new information.
For you, it was all flowers, dreams, happy days.
You get to see the person you like every day, you get to spend at least a little bit of time with him.
"Stop, you need to train." You say to pedri, who's too busy kissing you and hugging you. "Pepi, stop it." You giggle.
"Why?" He pouts. "One more, and I'm leaving."
"No, guapo." You try to push him. But he brings you back to him. "You are going to be late." You say.
He grabs your cheeks, kissing you goodbye. You hug his body. Loving the way this feels. The way his lips dance with yours and the way your tongues mix just makes sense.
When he separates to take air, you place your hand on top of his mouth. Blocking him from kissing you again.
"You have to go." You whisper breathlessly. "The Mister will be mad at you."
He kisses the top of your forehead. Eying the clock on the wall. He really needs to go. "I'll see you tonight?" You nod, still catching your breath. "Okay, I'll see you then" He kiss your cheek and pulls away.
You wait a few minutes before coming out of where you two were hiding. Walking to the interns room.
Marcus was there. He eyed you from head to toes. "Hello." You say. He only smiled. He still had a bone to pick with you from the way you rejected him.
"So, are you coming to the game?" He asks.
"Yeah, I got tickets. Are you?"
"Don't know, still deciding."
You nod, not wanting to keep the conversation. You walk over and find Carlos waiting with the coolers with you.
"Can you be more late?" He plays with you.
"Shut up and work bitch." You joke.
"Hmmm." He shakes his head. "Says the one who was tonguing her boyfriend on the janitors closet."
"I hate you." You side eye him. He laughs and walks away with a cooler. "And he's not my boyfriend." You whisper to him as you enter the field.
"Okay." He pauses, thinking. "Your fuck buddy?"
"He's not my-" You hit his arm. "He's not my fuck buddy." You whisper.
"So you haven't fuck him?"
You blush at the question. You did sleep with him, but he wasn't your fuck buddy or anything like that.
"So you did fuck him." Carlos laughed. "If he is not your boyfriend then you are fuck buddies until he asks you out formally."
You stayed quiet for the duration of the training. Until it was time to offer the guys some water. Carlos was right. He wasn't your boyfriend, but you were having sex and doing things couples do.
"Let's go."
You walk over to the guys with the vest. It was easy that way, since they all stayed together to plan a strategy.
You are thinking still. They players are grabbing their waters and talking to themselves. You turn your head to the other part of the team.
Pedri was looking at you, you smile at him. Ferran sees this and decides to tease him. The others think it is just him playing, but it was more than that.
"Distracted much?" Raphinha asks, smiling at you. "You okay?"
You nod. "Just thinking." You say honestly.
"Don't tire your mind." Lewandowski says.
"Easy for you to say, you can take your thoughts away by playing."
"A piece of advice, if it can be solved then you don't have to worry about it. Think about how you are going to solve it and do it."
"And if it doesn't have a solution?" You ask Lewa.
"Then don't think about it." He smiles again. "If you can fix it, learn from it and move on."
You nod, thanking him for the advice. "More water before I go?" You ask, hearing Oscar blow the whistle.
"Noup." He throws the bottle back into the cooler.
You go on with the day, not thinking much of the situation. It has a solution, and you can resolve it.
You sit next to your dad for dinner. Texting pedri carefully that as soon as dinner is over, you will meet him up.
"I can't wait to see you at the game. I have a good feeling about it."
You smile, letting him and Nuria do the talking. You eat some pieces of your food, feeling nauseous and tired.
"What's going on with you?" Xavi asks. "You are not the type to leave food."
Before you answer, Asia decides to intervene. "She has the love syndrome."
Both Asia and Dan decide to make kiss noises and throw jokes at you about your love life.
"Stop it, kids." Nuria laughs. "Are you okay?"
"Si." You nod. "Just tired. Maybe I'm coming with a cold." You lie.
"Then take a seat next to the dog because I don't want to get a cold too." You dad jokes. Getting up to take his plate to the sink.
You roll your eyes. "Can I use your car? I want to visit Karlie." You lie again.
"No drinking and driving." He says, stern tone. "Please don't come back at like three in the morning." He throws the keys at you.
You nod, taking your plate to the sink and going upstairs to brush your teeth. You fix your hair before going back down. "Bye, I'll be here in a bit."
You arrive at his house. You two meet up there because you haven't revealed that your father is Xavi Hernández.
He kisses you hello and takes you to his room. He has some candy and Amazon Prime open for you to pick any movie you want.
The movie goes unnoticed by you. The words of Carlos and Lewandowski are taking all your mind. You grab the controller, pausing the movie.
"What are we?" You ask, very straightforward.
Pedri chokes on his gummy bear. "Qué?"
"What are we?" You repeat. Louder this time.
He's trying to think about what to say. He doesn't even know what you two are. You have no labels.
"Are we just fuck-buddies?" You ask.
"No." He quickly answers. "You are more than just that." He says.
"What more?"
He tries to find the right words. He doesn't want you to feel scared if he confesses all his feelings for you.
And he also doesn't want to run when maybe you want to walk. He wants to make you feel comfortable.
"I want us to be more than just friends." He says.
"We are." You say, serious tone. "We fuck, we kiss, we cuddle in bed while we watch a movie, you introduce me to your brother."
"Listen, Y/n." He sits. "I want more than that. I just thought that maybe you would be more comfortable like that."
"Why?"
"Huh?" He's confused. What do you mean why?
"Why did you think that?"
"I'm a footballer." He spat. "And to be honest, a Google search will show you that the media thinks I'm a fucking womanizer. Girls here and there when, in reality, I don't even go out to get groceries."
You smirk at that. He was a very home orienteded guy. "I don't believe in rumors, I believe you."
"And I'm happy about it." He grabs your hand and kisses it. "I like you a lot. You are not just someone I have sex with and then leave. I do want more."
You grab his face, kissing him. You wanted more than just friendship too. You wanted to move forward with the relationship.
"Ask me then." You smile.
He laughs, if there's something he loves about you is how straightforward you are. You are not afraid of saying anything.
"Y/n, preciosa mía." His arms hug your waist. "Will you honor me by letting me be your boyfriend?" He smiles, eyes shining.
You smile too, watching every detail about his face, the way his smile is reaching his eyes, the way his hair looks, the way he smells.
"Let me think about it." You joke, making him pull you down to the bed with him.
"Preciosa, venga, no bromees." He kiss you.
"I will honor you." You say, smiling like crazy. "I really like you too, and I'm happy right now." You laugh, grabbing his cheeks and kissing him.
You two spend the rest of the movie like that, kissing here and there, paying more attention to each other than to the movie.
"Wear my jersey to the game." He requests. "I want my girlfriend to wear my number on her back. It will be like a motivation."
You nod, smiling at him. You were planning on wearing it anyway. You wanted him to notice how much support he has on you.
You checked the time, it was past midnight. "I have to go. My dad will be pissed if I don't."
"No." He hugs you, getting on top of you. "Stay here."
You laugh. "Pepi, if I don't get home as soon as possible, I don't think I'll be allowed to go to the game anymore."
He sighs, kissing you quickly before letting go. He walks with you to your car. "Call me when you are home and drive safe."
"I always do." You say cocky, making him smile. His head gets in the car for him to be able to kiss you. "Adiós."
🪷🪷🪷
The game wasn't as good as you expected. The team lost, and with the loss, they gave Real Madrid the Liga trophy. Now there's only hopes for the second place.
Xavi was mad, you can tell by the look on his face and how he stormed out to the dressing room.
You knew this was a bad moment to the players. They all look sad and stressed. But you can't blame Xavi. They don't even work as a team anymore.
Carlos and you walk into the tunnel. You had access to those areas due to the security guys recognizing you from working there.
You wanted to wait to at least talk to Pedri, check if he's fine in person, and not over text. "I'll wait here. If you want to you can go."
"Okay, see you tomorrow then." You kiss his cheek goodbye.
You sat in one of the benches at the corridor. Checking your phone to see what people are saying on X.
You feel angry at how people blame your father. He wishes to be able to go into the field and play for them but he can't.
After all, he was a barça legend, and they are just teenagers and adults acting like five years old who can't make a team with the others.
Goundogan and Araujo fighting. Ter Stegen is saying Xavi doesn't need to call out players after losing a game. It was a shit show.
You heard the dressing room opening. Your father walks mad, his belongings in hand. You stand up and try to talk with him.
"Not right now." He says, deep mad voice.
You only nodded, taking a seat at the bench again. You want to do more, but you can't even begin expressing how much you this situation hurts you.
Some of the players began leaving. Some waving goodbye to you. Thinking you are there as a job and not just to watch the match.
Ferran walks out, head low and earphones in. You grab his shoulder. "Hey." You say even tho he can't hear you.
He takes his earphones out to greet you. "Hey." He sighs. "What a shit show, isn't it?" He laughs.
"It's okay, it's just a bad moment." You hug him and say goodbye to him.
"Pedri is inside, he's taking a shower."
You text him telling him that you were waiting for him. You walk to the interns room to pick something from your locker.
After all, that was one of the only rooms that didn't have a lock. You walk and see Marcus and Raphinha talking.
They both look at you, but Raphinha's gaze was a weird one. You can't pick it. Maybe it was his humor after the lost.
"I just want something from my locker." You walk quick and open it. "Sorry about the lost, Raph." You say, pulling the item and closing the locker door. "Bye."
Pedri texted you to meet him at the parking lot. He was out of the dressing room and walking over there.
You do as he told you. Meeting him there. He was inside his car, doing something on his phone.
You knock on his window. He opens the passenger seat door for you. "Hola." You whisper, not sure how to approach him.
"Xavi told us he's leaving." He confess. "And my family couldn't come."
"Pepi." You sigh. Hugging him and kissing his cheek. "I'm so sorry about today. If it makes you feel better, I think you played better than anyone else." You kiss his nose. Making him smile.
"Thank you for being here." He poses his head on your shoulder. "Want to go get something to eat? I feel like having something bad." He laughs.
"Whatever you want, guapo." You kiss him. Hands squishing his cheeks. "Let's go."
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"I feel like this season is just too much for us." He says, eating his fries. "We are falling apart."
"The whole Ronald and Gundo thing is just dumb, I will take Gundo's advice. He was in ManCity and they are champions."
"But I can't blame him. Maybe the delivery wasn't the best." He says, thinking about the situation. "And I think Xavi and Oscar weren't doing their best."
"What are they doing wrong?" You ask curious. He was one of the few playes that did what Xavi and Oscar asked him to do. "I mean for what I see at the training, he is giving instruction, explaining how to create opportunities and then at the game Lewandowski and Raphinha do the opposite."
Pedri wasn't surprised at your football talk, he find it amazing when you first gave him advice, and now he asks for feedback.
"You have the most assists this season of La Liga, and the majority of those were lost opportunities. At this point, the only thing that can save you guys is if Oscar and Xavi get in the field with you during the games."
"Bueno, if you put it like that, then yes." He scratched his head. "That water job of yours is giving you too much to fight me for." He laughs
"It's not my fault I can take the instructions better than your teammates." You laugh back. "But I know Xavi thinks you are one of the best elements of the team." You say, head over his shoulder.
You weren't lying. Your father was happy with him, maybe wanting to correct little things, but seeing the big picture, he was the perfect successor of Andres."
"I'll believe you." He kisses you. "Want me to drop you home?" He says, finishing his meal.
"My stepmother will pick me up from your home, she's just a few blocks away."
You still have to tell Pedri about your dad. When he told you that Xavi announced the possibility of leaving, you already knew.
He talked about it with Nuria and your siblings. Letting you know before anyone else, LaPorta, the players, the press.
"Why do I feel like you don't want me to know where you live?" He asks, curious about why his house was the only place you two meet.
"I do, it's just complicated."
"You dad doesn't know we are together?"
"He knows I'm with someone, but right now, he's dealing with work issues." You didn't lie. He was. Pedri knows but he doesn't know he knows.
"Okay, I trust you." He says, resting his hand on your thigh.
You texted Nuria, letting her know that you will be at his place in about five minutes, for her to pick you up.
Just like Pedri, Nuria didn't know the reality of your relationship. She thinks he is someone you met around, maybe at a party. Not a player from your father's team.
When you get the text saying she's outside, you stand up, ready to leave. "She's here, adiós, guapo."
But he has other plans. He stood up, grabbed your wrist and walked to the door with you.
"I want to say hi." He says. Walking hand in hand with you, happy to be able to meet someone from your life.
You stop, he will recognize Nuria if he sees her. "Pedri, no." You pull him to you before he reaches the door. "My stepmother is kinda delicate."
"Y/n, be honest." He frowns. "Tell me if you don't want me to meet your family. You know my brother and I want you to know my parents."
You think for a moment, you do want him to meet Nuria and your father. Not like his trainer, just as your father.
"The thing is, I'm planning a dinner with my family and you. And I want it to be perfect and for you to meet them calmly and not at the street."
"You promise is that?" He pouts.
"Let's do this. You have three days off for the next match that is on Friday. Let's do the dinner on Saturday so you don't stress about the game. Deal?"
He smiles, nodding excited about the idea. "Deal." He says, hugging you. "I was so scared of you being embarrassed of me or something."
"What?" You laugh. "Eres tan tonto, it's not that. You know that now."
He nods. Kissing your lips. "Go, she will get mad from waiting."
You kiss him again. Telling him a quick goodbye. When you get to the car, Nuria is watching you all smiles.
"What?" You ask her.
"Nothing I just love seeing you so happy, I'm a fan." She laughs, making you laugh. "I need you to tell me when are we meeting him."
"You are lucky, I invite him on Saturday, so your job is to keep my dad happy." You joke.
"Well, I have all morning to make him feel less angry if the game goes downhill."
"Let's hope it doesn't." You beg.
🪷🪷🪷
You can't deny you will miss working at the club when the season is done. You learned to like the job and you have fun with the guys, even with Marcus.
"I'm going to miss organizing this and stealing Gatorade." Carlos says. Drinking the last bit of the drink.
"Can't you get one at the store?" You joke.
"It will not be free. Duh!"
"You want to know what else is free?" You ask. When he nods you get close to him. "Our labor here." You whisper.
He laughs so hard that some of the players that are walking past to the camp turn to see you. "I want to know the joke, tio." Sergi jokes. "Also, if you can pack a purple Gatorade, I'll really appreciate it."
You pass the training talking about random things. Pedri was looking at you from time to time.
He told you how a little anxious about meeting your family. You were too, you hoped he would understand your reasoning.
"I don't know how you two haven't been caught. He can't keep his eyes away from you." He says, noticing how the canary looks at you every five seconds. "But to be honest, when we first started every player was looking at you."
"Maybe that's why they don't allow female interns." You laugh.
You finish the training between jokes. The few last trainings were always the best. The vacation spirit was hitting the players.
You returned both coolers. When you were about to leave, you saw Raphinha reclined into the doorfr. "Hello to you too, kitty girl."
"Hola." You say. "Do you want something?"
"Can't a man just get a talk?" He jokes.
You nod. "How are you?"
"I can be better." He walks closer, maybe a little too much for your liking. "I want to ask you something." When you don't answer, he decides to keep talking. "I got told a little story about you. And I'm interested in it."
You narrow your eyes, nodding your head to indicate him continue with the story.
"I know how hard it must be to work as hard as you do, with all this ahit show, organizing stupid bottles. Look, I don't blame you for what you do here. But someone as pretty as you can get better things from someone like me. No need to fuck old flesh for some cash." He says, posing his hands on your waist.
You push him away, "What the fuck are you even implying?" You have a stern tone. "Don't ever touch me again. You are disgusting."
"Such a prude now, huh?" He laughs. "We all know what you do. It's no secret. I'm just taking my chances to be the next one in line." He tries to get closer again. "I can fuck you better than him, let's be honest."
Your hand hurts from how hard you hit his cheek. Making his face turn. "Você é uma pessoa nojenta, fique longe de mim." (You are such a disgusting person, get away from me), you say, pushing him to get out of the room.
His hand grabs your arm. Pulling you back. "Você age como uma puritana, mas você é uma prostituta." (You act like a prude but you're a whore)
"You have a wife and a child." You remind him. "And you are here accusing me of something I don't even know about. You are disgusting."
"I'm not the one fucking someone from the club." He laughs. "You are."
"I held your son while Natalia, your wife, was using the bathroom. She was telling everybody how happy she was that she was visiting. And you act as if she's nothing. You dont deserve her." You say, taking his hands off of your body, "I'm telling you this only once. So you better listen. Don't mess with me because I'm not the one. You have no idea the kind of power I have. Stay away from me, or I'm telling everybody what you did."
He lifts his hands. Looking at you with a mad stare. You feel like crying, but you won't in front of him. "Move, deixe-me ir." (Let me go)
He moves to the side. You run, wanting to go home. You go to the interns room, searching for you things in your locker.
Your hands are shaking. You can't even get the key into the lock. Three knocks on the door got unnoticed by you.
"Hey, Y/n?" You heard Ferran's voice. "Are you okay?"
He walks over to you, and he places his hands on your arm and back, but you back up. "Don't touch me." You shout at him, moving away from his touch.
You don't mean to do it, but you can't even think straight. "It's okay, deep breaths." He says, hands motioning you to take a breath. "Yeah, that's it. Do it again." He says, he backs a little from where you are.
You take a few breaths, feeling yourself calming down. You hated the feeling of being uncappable of defending yourself.
"That's it." Ferran cheers you. "Here, I have a napkin on me. Don't ask." He hands you the napkin. You smile at his joke.
"I'm sorry for shouting." You say, voice shaking. "I just, I want to go home." You whisper, feeling the tears fill your eyes.
"Can I come closer and give you a hug?" He asks, you nod. He hugs you, one hand on your shoulders and the other on your head, pushing it against his chest. "I don't know what happened, but if you need a friend. I'm here."
You hug him back. You really needed a hug. "Gracias." You say, "Where did you get the napkin, tho?"
"I hide a cookie." He confess. That makes you laugh a little. "Hey, you laughed."
You separate from him. "Thank you, Ferran." You smile. He asked you for the key to the locker, opening the lock for you.
You grab your things. And he locked it again. "Do you need want to go? I can call you an Uber, I don't have my phone but it's in the dressing room. In my station."
You smile. Shaking your head. "I just need to find Martina and tell her I'm leaving." You say, walking to out of the door with him. "Hey, you wanted something. Can I help you before I leave?"
Ferran feels sad. You grow a friendship with him. You are someone very calm, and he can tell something might have happened for you to react the way you did.
"Don't be silly. Let's find Martina."
"It's okay, I know where she is. Thank you for helping me. I'll go by myself."
"You sure?"
You nod, giving him one last hug. "Bye."
You walk to the office where Martina is, she's always there with the social media manager. You knock to see if she was there.
"Come in."
You open the door, finding Raphinha talking with her. Both of them laughing and joking about something.
"Hey, is everything alright?" She asks when she sees your red face. "What happened?"
You lock eyes with Raphinha, he has a smirk, like if the situation was funny to him. You want to grab your bag and hit him.
"Si, I just want to know if I can leave early. I don't feel well and I want to go home."
"Oh honey, is there something I can help you with?"
"Si, can we help you?" He asks.
"It's just an allergy reaction, and I feel like I should probably rest a little." You lie, looking at Raphinha while doing it with a disgusted face.
"Go home and rest, if you want to, don't come tomorrow. I have those reactions, too, and it's the worst."
"Will do, thank you for understanding. Goodbye." You wave at her, walking outside the door, but you turn to say something."Oh, Raphinha."
"Si?"
"Lembre-se do que eu lhe disse. Fique longe de mim." (Remember what I told you. Stay away from me.) You smile. "Been practicing my Portuguese." You say to Martina, who smiles at you, not understanding anything you just said.
You went home, thankful that Nuria was out at an event, and you can cry in peace in your room. You turn your phone off, not wanting to deal with anything and just staying in bed until you have the strength to get up.
Ferran told Pedri what happened, the way he found you. He called you five times and texted you another few more. But nothing. You were mia.
He spent the rest of training worried about you. He wanted to know what happened for you to be crying and left early.
Once he's home, he can concentrate on anything, checking his phone every minute to see if the message was delivered.
That's when he remembered, you sent him over text your address for the dinner with your parents. Telling him that you did it because later on, you would forget.
He grabs his keys and drives over to your house. He didn't care if he looked imprudent. He needed to make sure you were okay.
"Y/n, are you sure you don't want to talk?" Nuria asks again. She can't help but wonder why your eyes were puffy and you were sad. "I won't tell."
"It's nothing." You answer. "I'm just taking a shower, just in time to eat dinner with you. Deal?"
"Okay, if you need me, I'm here." She hugs you. "I'm going to get some takeout, I feel like that will make you feel better."
You nod, thanking her and closing your bathroom door and taking a very hot shower. You needed that. You bring your alexa to the bathroom and ask her to play something while you shower.
Pedri was impatient, the traffic was making him bounce his knee. He wanted to be able to just drive over all these people.
He tries to call you one more time, with no answer. Your phone was still off. He wanted to know if you were okay. Just that.
"Y/n?" Asia asks, knocking on your door. "When mom returns, we will make your favorite brownies to make you feel better."
You smile, you know they want you to be okay no matter what happened. "Thank you, A. I'll help you. Just let me change, and I'll go to the kitchen."
You change into some bikers and a plain shirt. Or as you like to call it, your lazy outfit. You dry your hair, not wanting to deal with the freez later.
While your blow dryer is on and alexa is playing something in the bathroom. Xavi and Nuria got home.
"Marcela told me that it was an allergic reaction. That's what she said."
"I think there's more. Plus, she looks fine, not a single red mark on her face from allergies. Maybe talk to her later."
You finish with your hair. You wait for Nuria to be back or call you to go down. You charge your phone even though it's off.
You put your hair in a ponytail, completing the lazy look with your sleepers from a hotel that you went to a few years ago.
While you wait in your bed, Pedri drives into the community where you live, the security guy recognized him and asked for a photo.
He let him go past the gate since he was a known person. Thing that makes him laugh. He follows the gps to your street.
He parks in front of what he thinks is the right house. He walks over to the door and ring the doorbell.
"Xavi, please open the door. I'll go get the kids." Nuria says, walking upstairs.
Xavi walks to the door. When he opens it, he finds Pedri. "Pedri, tío. What are you doing here?"
Pedri is as confused as his trainer. He doesn't understand what happened and how he ended at Xavi's house.
"Hey, Mister. I think I got my gps confused. But it's nice to see you. Sorry about the press thing today. We were all confused and mad."
"It's okay, you guys worry too much about me." He laughs. "Venga, come inside." He moves for the midfielder to get in. "Are you hungry? We are about to eat."
"I don't mean to bother." He smiles. "I think when Lewandowski sent us the address to your home for lunch, it got overlapped with the one I was looking for."
"Happens to me all the time." He laughs, making Pedri laugh. "But you don't bother, honestly. Have some dinner with us."
Pedri agrees. He thinks this is a bad coincidence, but he will use it to maybe talk with Xavi before he leaves. Thank him for everything.
"Pedri, this is Nuria, my wife." He introduces him to his wife. "Nuria, this is Pedri. He's number eight. A good kid. I invited him over."
"Hola, that's so great. Please take a seat. Our kids will be with us in a moment."
"I'm sorry about coming without notice. I got the address wrong. I was looking for someone who lives in the same neighborhood."
The sound of children interrupts the talk. "Mom, did you get the brownie stuff?"
"Asia, come here, baby. This is Pedri. He is a football player at the club." The little girl waves.
"Do you work with dad?"
"I do." He smiles. "He's the best, you are lucky yo have such an amazing dad."
"He's cool." She says, looking at xavi. But he's not allowed to make brownies with us. He burns them."
"Are you making brownies?" Pedri asks. Trying to make conversation with her. "That's yummy."
"Yes, it's for my sister. She's feeling blue."
"That means you are a very nice sister. I have a brother named Fernando. When I'm blue, he hits me in the head." He makes the little girl laugh.
"My other two are somewhere in the house." Xavi explains. "Actually, how old are you?"
"I'm twenty-one."
"My oldest is twenty. Almost the same." He passes the plate to Pedri. "You probably recognize her. She's helping at the club."
"Really?" He asks, confused. "Didn't know that."
The laughs of a boy can be heard. Pedri is trying to remember if he knows who Xavi's daughter is.
"Reina, come here." Xavi says, waving you to come over.
You have your brother in your arms, laughing with him. "Yes, sir?" You ask, laughing.
Pedri feels how his body tenses at the sound of your voice. And you stop laughing once you see him sitting at the table.
"Pedri, this is Y/n and Dan. She works as an intern. She helped us with the water and stuff. "Y/n, I think you already know Pedri."
"I do." You say, putting your brother down, your eyes never leaving his. "Hi, Pedri."
"We know Pedri, he plays for barça." Dan says, making Pedri smile at him.
"Well, everybody got food. Let's sit down and eat." Nuria says, leaving the salad on the table. "Hey, you feeling better?"
You nod at her question. You wanted Pedri to find out about your dad but not like this. Not after the day you have.
"Y/n, take a seat." Asia asks
The only plate left was in the seat next to Pedri. You sit down, he looks at you. You are not sure what the emotions his eyes are showing are.
Xavi asks Pedri different things, talking about his family. He met Pedri's parents during one celebration at the club.
"So you two know each other?" Nuria asks Pedri and you.
You look over at him. "We do." You answer. You can see his smile. "When I got to the club, he was training after an injury, and I was assigned to be the water girl for that training." You smile.
"Yes, she was very shy and weird the first day." He laughs, making you laugh. "When she got moved to the whole team, the first times she just left the cooler and moved."
"I did not." You say. "Ferran and him were throwing water at each other." You say to Nuria. "I was scared of getting wet."
"I can admit I once used her as a shield." He laughs. "It was funny."
Nuria looks between you two. The way you smile at each other and they way you look at him.
The dinner went well. Pedri and Dan clicked in a way that any other guest at your house ever did. Asia invited him to make the brownies with you. Uninviting Nuria from the equation.
"Y/n, can you help me with something?" She calls you. You were searching for the ingredient.
"Si. Dan, please help me with the ingredients, okay baby?" You gave him the list of things.
Nuria and you walk into the laundry room. "Okay, confess." She says. Looking at you with narrowed eyes.
"What?" You asks, confused about what she's talking about. "Context, please?"
"I have a theory." She began. "Is that you are overly friendly with Pedri, and you are ten times more clingy and needy with your boyfriend. Or that we are going to see Pedri again at the dinner this Saturday, but not as the Barca Player but as your boyfriend."
You stayed quiet. Your silence was all she needed to confirm it. You just blush at how obvious you were.
"I also think it's important for you to know that he didn't know until today that Xavi is my dad."
"Y/n." She says, eyes widening. "How?"
"I asked Martina to omit the fact that my last name is Hernández because I wanted to just not be Xavi's daughter for once. I wanted to be me."
"I get it, believe me." She hugs you. "Oh my God, I'm so happy, you two look amazing together."
"You think dad would flip if I tell him that he is my boyfriend and that the job he got me to keep me occupied worked, but my occupation is not only being an intern but having a boyfriend?" You ramble a little.
"Why don't you tell him now?" She asks. "He's here. He likes him, and to be honest, I don't want to get all dressed up for something we already did but didn't know we were doing."
Nuria and you debate a little about the whole telling your dad thing. She encouraged you to tell him now that he is in a good mood.
"Hey." You say, walking back into the kitchen. "Can I talk to you? Nuria will help them." You guide them to your backyard. Seating on the couch you have there for parties. "I'm sorry I was gone all day, I just had a rough day and wanted to come home."
"Something happened?" He asks, worried. "You don't usually turn your phone off and walk out of the club."
"I don't want to talk about it, don't worry. I'm better now." You smile. "I'm sorry about not being fully honest with you." You say, referring to your family situation. "I honestly thought I was getting out of that job in two weeks, but I grew a like for it."
"And you stayed." He finish your sentence. "You tend to do toxic things. Have you noticed that?"
"Eres un tonto." You say. He opens his arms to you. You fall into them and snuggle your face on his shoulder. "Don't be mad?"
"Am not, I was shocked when your dad opened the door. I thought I was going crazy and that my car gps was failing." He chuckles. "Then I see you walking as he says you are his daughter, and all I'm thinking is now it makes sense why you know so much about football."
You laugh. "And all those things I told yo about him liking you more than the rest because you listen to him? You now can actually believe me."
He hugs you tight. He was so worried all day about you. "Ferran was worried. He didn't even bother me during training."
"You are welcome." You joke. "I was thinking, maybe we can use this opportunity to tell my dad about us."
"Don't you think it's enough off a surprise that I knocked on the door without an invitation?"
You were about to answer when a voice makes you turn. It was your dad on the balcony right above where you are.
"Creo que ya me lo han dicho sin decirme, chavales." (I think you told me without telling me, kids) he shakes his head. "Pedri, not only as your trainer but as the father of the girl you are apparently with. I think it's time to go home and rest for the game."
"Si, Mister." He shyly smiles. "Thank you for the food. See you tomorrow." He separates. "See you tomorrow, Guapa." He whispers as he walks back inside the house.
"Dad, that wasn't nice."
"Bring me a brownie when they are ready, we need to have a chat." He winks at you. Going back inside.
🪷🪷🪷
The game went amazing. They won second place on La Liga. It wasn't the worst, after all. Pedri scored two goals, giving a very nice almost end of the season.
"It was a good game." Carlos says. "I'm going to miss this so much."
"Me too, I like some of the players already, and I'm going to miss seeing you steal Gatorade for the gym."
"Shhh, I can't get caught." He jokes. You walk over to the interns room. "Wait, I'll go to the bathroom. Can you pick my stuff for me?"
You nod, opening your palm so he can give you his locker key. When he does, you walk to the room. You walk inside, grabbing your bag and Carlos things.
You text Pedri congratulations, and you tell him where you are. He asked you to wait for him there. Ferran and him will meet you there.
You heard the door slam closed. You turn and see Marcus. He has this smirk on his lips. "Hey, did you enjoy the game?" You ask, going back to your phone.
"I know what you are doing." He says, sitting at the table. "You can stop pretending."
"Qué?" You ask, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I heard you talking with Carlos, telling him about your date, how his family was going to be there. And then I saw you walking out of that shithole, after being with him."
"Okay?" You smirk. "Why is that your concern?"
You didn't mind if he saw you and Pedri sneaking out here and there. You weren't going to hide it. Season is about to finish, and you won't be back.
"So you admit it?" He asks loudly. "I mean not that you are hiding it. Look at that Miu Miu bag. A girl like would only dream about it."
You look down at your bag. Bag that was a gift from your grandparents. "Why are you so mad if I wear designer or if I date someone from the club?" You were about to walk out, not feeling like listening to his crap.
"Raphinha was right, you act like a fucking prude but in reality you are nothing but a slut."
You turn to him. Was that what Raphinha talked to you about when he attacked you? "What did you just say?"
"And now you are deaf." He laughs.
"Is this about me rejecting your invitation?" You ask mad. Was he doing all that because you told him he wasn't your type? "Marcus, this is fucked up. Did you even know what Raphinha did to me?"
"Whatever it was, he probably paid you enough to get something nice, huh?" He says, getting closer. "Did you enjoy it?"
You back off, trying to get away from you. "Don't don't even know what you are talking about."
"You rejected me but decided to fuck a forthy year old dude?"
You don't understand nothing at this point. What he thinks you are doing. "You are confusing things, I'm not doing any of that."
"You just admitted to do it." He yells. You back a little more. "A married guy with kids, fucking slut." He yells.
You feel like you were about to start crying from the anxiety this is giving you. "I didn't do that." You yell back.
The door opens up. A frowny Ferran and Pedri walk in. Seeing the scene and how you are almost cornered up.
"What is going on?" Ferran asks. "Are you okay, Y/n?"
Pedri doesn't even care about answering questions. He walks over to you and shields you with his body.
"Back off." He warns. "No sé quien carajos te crees pero no tienes ningún derecho a gritarle, imbecil." (I don't know who te fuck you think you are but you have no right to yell at her, asshole) he's the one getting closer now, doing the same he was doing to you.
"Obviously, you two are defending her." He laughs. "Did he sucked your dicks too?"
Pedri doesn't need to hear anything else. His fist impacts Marcus. Making him fall over. "I'm not going to let you talk about her at all. You watch your fucking mouth."
Ferran grabs you by the shoulders, taking you out of the room. You don't want Pedri to get in trouble.
"Can you make sure he doesn't punch him again?" You ask Ferran. "I don't want Pedri having repercussions because of him."
Ferran nods, going back inside. You can hear Pedri yelling at Marcus. He was mad and the adrenaline from the game was giving him the attitude.
He was a calm dude. It's not easy to pass him off, let alone get physical with him. But today was Marcus lucky day because Pedri was not taking any shit.
Ferran drags Pedri out of the room. Mad face softens when his eyes lay on you. "Guapa." He hugs you. "Are you okay?"
"I am. Thank you for saving me." You kiss his collarbone. "I'm so confused about why he was yelling at me."
"He won't even dare to even come back after the break. And if he does, Ferran promised him that he would run him over."
You smile. Extending your hand to where Ferran is. He grabs your hand, and you pull him to the hug between Pedri and you.
Carlos, who is just coming back from the bathroom and sees that scene, joins without saying much.
"Why are we hugging?" He asks after a few. Making Pedri, Ferran and you laugh.
🪷🪷🪷
"Two goals, baby." You say, hugging you very sweaty boyfriend. "You did amazing. I'm so proud."
He smiles like crazy, his first goals with the national team, and you surprised him by coming to see his game.
"I played too." Ferran says, watching you and Pedro hug.
Pedro scuff. "Maybe get a girlfriend, capullo."
"Excuse me? Y/n, let me tell you that without me insisting that he asked you out, you wouldn't even be here right now." He leaves, pretending to be mad.
You laugh when you notice Pedri blushing at Ferrans confession. "Well, let's thank him." You say, kissing his lips.
"We can also thank a very straightforward girl who asked me what was the status of our relationship when we were cuddling in bed and watching a movie."
"A smart mind, in my opinion."
You two walk over to the interview side. Since he scored two goals, some news channels wanted him to give the exclusive after the game.
"I'm very proud, I can't wait for Germany." He says to the camera.
"How is your support circle? Will you have your family and friends at maybe one of the games?"
"I have amazing support, my parents, my brother, my girlfriend, my friends, and the fans who always motivate me to be better."
"Girlfriend? Wow, lucky girl. Imagine that the start of today is your boyfriend." The interviewer laughed.
Pedri locks his eyes with you. "Actually, I'm the lucky one." He says.
294 notes · View notes
thebearer · 4 months
Text
love, i found you |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: how anchovy berzatto came into your and carmen's lives. or the story of anchovy berzatto, dumpster kitten turned spoiled cat.
contains: mentions of animal being abandoned/ stray kitten. small, malnourished anchovy but nothing graphic (i won't do that to you i promise). mainly fluff. language. richie being a hater a little lol.
word count: 2.9k+
“Chefs, keep the stations clear-” 
“-Has anyone seen Richie?-” 
“-Jeff, I need more branzino for the seven fishes-” 
“-Heard, Tina. There, uh, I think there’s some-” 
“-Carm, have you seen the books for tonight?-” 
“-Has anyone seen Richie? Richie! Where the fuck is he?” 
A chaotic melody of screams meshed together in some kind of disarray of harmony, one speaking over the other, the sound of pots and pans clashing, hisses of sizzling food in them a backtrack to the madness. 
“I’m right here, Sugar.” Richie scoffed, buttoning the front of his jacket. He patted your shoulder in passing, cheek pressing lightly to yours, muttering, “How’re you, sweetheart? Doin’ good?” In passing. 
He was the first to notice you, even over Carmen. The rest of the staff bustling through the kitchen prep, trying to squeeze everything in before the family meal. Carmen had invited you to family, but you were starting to regret agreeing, feeling useless and in the way in the face of the hectic nature. 
“Where have you been?” Sugar huffed at Richie, heels clacking in a stomp towards the office. “I have a million fucking things- oh, hey.” She paused, eyes lighting in a greeting when they landed on you. 
“I didn’t know you were here. How are you?” Sugar hugged you, a soft side hug in greeting that you returned stiffly. 
“I’m good. How are you?” You muttered, eyes still scanning the kitchen. 
Sugar let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Ask me in about an hour.” She shook her head. “I have a million fucking things to do as I was telling Richie.” She turned, eyes narrowing pointedly at the man. “Only two dishwashers showed up tonight.” 
“You’re shitting me.” Richie groaned. “That fuckin’ jagoff- take a chance on me, bullshit.” 
“Yeah, so Neil needs to wash utensils tonight between the floor, ok?” Sugar jabbed a manicured nail into her clipboard. 
“Is there anything I can do?” You squeaked, much smaller than you meant it to. Richie and Sugar turned to you, both blinking, like they’d forgotten you were even there. “Carm invited me to family, but I can help. I can wash dishes if you need me too. I don’t have anything else to do.” 
“That would be-” Sugar nodded in a sigh, a small smile spreading across her face. “Did I ever tell you I love you? Seriously.” She turned to Carm, who was passing behind her. “Carm, don’t ever fuck this up with her, you hear me? I’ll kill you.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Carmen muttered, and you knew by the drone in his voice he wasn’t listening, too consumed with other things, discarding vegetable scraps into the trash. 
“This thing is fuckin’ full. Can they not- Oh, hey.” Carmen’s features softened at the sight of you, spine straightening gently. “When’d you get here?” 
“Just a few minutes ago.” You leaned forward, his lips brushing your cheek softly in greeting. “I didn’t want to disrupt. You seemed… busy.” 
Carmen snorted. “Yeah, uh, that’s a word for it. Busy, out of my fuckin’ mind because this trash is fuckin’ full!” He boomed at no one in particular. 
“Now, I gotta take this out and replace it, and that puts us back, and every second counts, does it not, cousin?” Carmen rambled, glaring at Richie, yanking the sides of the trashcan off the rim. 
“Look, I didn’t know that the two didn’t show-” 
“-No, of course you didn’t. Can’t pay attention to shit-” 
“-Alright, let’s bring it down.” Sugar lifted her hands, eyeing Carmen with a slight nod of her head towards you. 
“Sorry.” Carmen muttered, eyes lifting to you. “Sorry, cousin. I-I’m just, we’re fuckin’ booked, an-and I’m so far behind-” 
“-I’ll take it.” You squeaked, a little too eagerly. Carmen’s brows furrowed, you cut him off before he could finish. “No, seriously, you’re all busy. I’ll go take this out and then I’ll help make sure the utensils are ready.” 
“N-No, I can’t ask you to do that. That would be shitty.” Carmen shook his head, pulling the trash bag out of the can. 
“Good thing you didn’t ask me. I offered.” Your hand wrapped over his, squeezing his closed fist gently with a tiny grin. “Go, I got it.” 
Carmen beamed, cheeks tinging pink. If he wouldn’t have been in the middle of the kitchen prep rush, he would’ve kissed you, pressed you right up against the wall and smooched you sloppy. Instead, he let you take the trash. 
“Gary!” Richie called behind you. “Make sure you let her back in, alright? Just knock and he’ll let you back in. You’re a fucking life saver, y’know that?” Richie beamed, pushing the heavy steel door open so you could duck under his arm. 
It was surprisingly warm- well, warm-ish for Chicago in the winter. No snow, no need for a heavy jacket but brisk enough for a chill. The dumpster lid was already flipped over, and you were thankful for that, slinging the bag over the edge, turning to go back inside. 
You stopped, halting just as you’d turned. The tiniest squeak of a cry, desperate and alert. You turned scanning the alley walls, the corners by the dumpster until you heard it again, that same pitiful whimper echoing off the metal of the dumpster- inside the dumpster. 
You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t leave it, whatever it was, it sounded pathetic and in pain. Your eyes flickered back to the building, you could see Gary in the small window, head turned towards the others. They were so busy, you couldn’t ask Carmen or even Fak. 
“I’ll be right back.” You cooed towards the dumpster frantically. “Just hold tight for me, ok? I’ll get you out, one sec.” It was silly, but you felt the need to say it, even if just for yourself. 
Sprinting towards the door, you knocked on the glass rapidly. Gary pushed it open. “I need your help.” You stopped him before he could walk away. “J-Just for a second. I promise.” 
Gary’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, are you- you’re ok?” 
“Yeah, I mean,” You turned towards the dumpster. “There’s something in there. I think it’s a cat? I think it’s hurt.” 
“A cat?” Gary’s eyes widened, still, he followed your furious pace towards the dumpster. “Wait, I-I don’t think- Lemme get Carm-” 
“-No, he’s busy.” You shook your head. “It will just take me a second. I just need you to help me get down.” 
Gary paused, watching you in complete awe- maybe horror- push off a discarded crate towards the ledge of the dumpster. “This is- no, this is fuckin’ crazy, I’m sorry. You don’t know what that thing has-” 
Your small gasp cut him off, eyes rounding in awe. There in the piles of trash, a fuzzy blip of orange fur nestled into the black bags- a tiny, scraggly kitten, mewling helplessly. 
“Oh my God,” You muttered. “It’s a baby.” 
“A baby?” Gary gawked. 
“A kitten baby.” You corrected, lip jutting. “I have to get it.” 
“I really don’t think you should be doin’ this.” Gary looked back at the door then to you. “You can’t go in the dumpster, c’mon.” 
“You want to go in instead?” You huffed, eyes rolling at his disgusted snarl. “Just- I’ll do it.” You leaned to the side, taking a deep breath of fresh air, swallowing down a gag at the expected smell. 
Holding your breath, you let yourself fall into the dumpster, the squishy bags of trash uneasy under your feet. The small kitten whined, crying at the shift of your weight. 
“This is fuckin’ insane.” Gary muttered, shaking his head. 
“Aye, Sweeps, what the fuck?” Richie’s voice boomed, the slam of the door making both of you jump. “Take your smoke break later, you jagoff, I need your-” 
“-I’m not-” Gary huffed in annoyance. “She’s in the dumpster.” 
“Who?” Richie asked. 
“Me!” You swallowed a retch, the pungent stench of the trash filling your senses as you crouched closer towards the kitten. At least it wasn’t summer. 
“Why the fuck is Carmen’s girl in the dumpster?” Richie roared. “Carmen! Get out here now, cousin!” 
“Why is she in the dumpster? Why the fuck are you in the dumpster?” Richie’s furious stomps were muted from the outside. You cringed, still trying to hold your breath, coaxing the small kitten into your hold. 
The poor thing, so small- so fucking small. Shaking in your hold, crying and whining, but turned into the warmth of your palm. A cry bubbled from your chest, mixing with a gag at the smell. 
“Cousin, what? What the fuck is-” Carmen bounded outside, stopping when he saw the top of your head pop up, out of the dumpster. “The fuck?” 
“Your girl’s in the garbage.” Richie shook his head. 
“Yeah, why the fuck- Baby, w-why are you- What are you doin’?” Carmen jogged towards you, hoisting himself over the side of the dumpster, arm extended for you. 
“She found a cat.” Gary rolled his eyes in annoyance. 
“A cat?” Richie repeated. 
“A kitten.” You showed Carmen, pulling the small thing from your chest, where you cradled him close to you. 
Carmen blinked at you. “You went in the dumpster f-for a cat? A cat?” He shook his head, confused. “Baby, that thing could have diseases a-and rabies and shit-” 
“-He’s starving.” You countered, lip jutting in a firm pout. Carmen hated the way he could feel himself melting. The determination in your glare, ferocious yet soft. 
“I could hear him crying, a-and I couldn’t leave him.” You shook your head, petting the tiny kitten’s soft fur. 
“So you climbed in the trash?” Richie snarled in disgust. 
“Climbed right in the dumpster.” Gary nodded. 
“Alright.” Carmen looked over his shoulder at them, a pointed glare on his face. “Just- Lemme get you outta there, alright?” 
“Here,” You handed him the small cat, carefully cradling him. Carmen hesitated, a grimace in his scowl. Your eyes narrowed at him, a warning. “Hold him gently.” 
So he did, of course he did, it’s what you wanted. Passing him to Richie with the same snarl of instructions, pulling you out of the dumpster, a firm hold on your waist as you climbed back over. 
Richie was passing you the kitten with a grimace of disgust, dusting his hands off dramatically. “There. There’s your garbage cat that can not come back in the restaurant. Cousin,” He glared at Carmen. “We don’t want another fuckin’ C. Get shut down for havin’ fleas or shit.” 
Carmen glared at him. “No, he’s right.” You nodded. “Can you bring me my purse? I’m going to see if I can get him checked out. I’ll be back.” 
“Let me come with you.” Carmen offered, motioning for Gary to go get your things, untying his blue apron. 
“Carm, no. You’re busy. I can do it.” You shook your head. 
Carmen rolled his eyes. “No, I’m comin’ with you. Last time I let you do somethin’ alone. End up in the fuckin’ garbage.” He snorted playfully. “Besides, I think there’s a place down the street. The vet has been in a few times. I’ll see if I can, y’know, coerce him to squeeze us in.” 
“Coerce?” You lifted your brows playfully, petting the tiny kitten gently, trying to still his quivering. 
“Yeah, coerce.” Carmen rolled his eyes, swapping his apron out for his jacket, handing you yours. “Give ‘im a free dinner or somethin’.” 
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“No fuckin’ way, no.” Richie shook his head. “Cousin, you’re already late- Sydney is pissed, and you’re not bringing that fuckin’ flea bag in here.” 
You held the small cat close to your chest, still damp from his bath at the vet. Carmen’s coercing had worked, Dr. Vallenti had took the bribe happily, squeezing you both in for a check up. The tiny kitten, barely two pounds, malnourished and positively pitiful. You didn’t even have to ask, Carmen knew from the way you held him close to your chest, eyes rounding just barely when the vet asked if you’d be keeping him. 
“Of course,” Carmen nodded easily, squeezing your knee gently. “Just give him whatever he needs for right now, and what we need t’get. We’ll get it.” 
“He doesn’t have fleas, Richie.” You sneered, cradling the small cat in your jacket to keep him warm. His shake was down to a soft tremble, not as constant but still there. 
“Yeah fuckin’ right, rabies then-” 
“-Cousin.” Carmen sneered. Richie stopped with a huff, throwing his arms up and muttering something as he stormed away. 
“Here,” Carmen muttered, a hand on the small of your spine, pushing you into his office. “I’ll grab you a bowl and a plate for his food, alright? You just, just stay in here, ok? Richie’s right, he can’t be out.” 
“I’ll keep him in here.” You nodded, sitting in the small chair. “Do you have a towel?” 
“Yeah, I’ll grab that too.” Carmen slung his jacket off, running a hand through his messy curls. “I, uh, I gotta get scrubbed up and put my stuff on, but if you need anything just yell, alright?” He ducked out to the small closet, snatching a towel and two dishes off the drying rack. 
“I’ll be alright.” You hummed, fingertip tracing down the kitten’s tiny head. He purred under your touch, made your chest burst with warmth. 
Carmen’s lips pulled in a smile, putting the dishes on the ground for you, shedding his own shirt. You were entirely enamored with the cat, that was for sure, not even a sideways, ogling glance at Carmen’s shirtless figure. 
“Shit.” Your head snapped up, wide eyed at Carmen. “I forgot the dishes. I-I’m so sorry, I can-” 
“-It’s alright, baby.” Carmen dropped his pants, biting back a smirk at how your eyes did drop this time. “Tina got her son and his friend to come in. We’re good, baby.” 
“Oh.” You nodded, eyes lingering on his boxer clad ass, before back to the kitten. “Good.” 
Carmen shrugged on his chef’s coat, walking over to you. “It’ll be kinda a late night.” His eyes softened in apology. “I’ll have someone run you a plate when we get outta the weeds, alright?” 
“Thank you.” You muttered, head tilting back for a kiss. Carmen obliged, your lips pulling him in for a longer kiss than he expected, sweet- left his body burning with heat. “Thank you.” You repeated, eyes shining sweetly. 
“C’mon.” Carmen whispered gently, shaking his head at you. “You know I would do anythin’.” He pressed a kiss to your head, looking down at the small kitten before he left. 
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“I think he likes it?” You whispered, on your stomach next to Carmen. 
It was nearly two in the morning, the two of you just returning back to the brownstone you called home. Lying on the freshly laid tile of the kitchen, you watched the small cat explore the space. 
“Yeah, think he’s gettin’ used to it.” Carmen muttered, shaking the small stick so the feather danced over the kitten, grinning when he’d scrunch and bat at it clumsily. 
You pressed your head into your hand, watching the kitten prowl, ears finally perked up instead of flat back in fear. “We have to name him.” You blinked, looking up at Carmen. 
“Yeah,” Carmen grinned. “Yeah, that-that would be a good idea, right?” He beamed playfully. 
You smiled, gently petting the kitten’s back, smiling at how he arched into your touch. “I think it should be something kinda with the restaurant.” You suggested. “Since that’s where we found him.” 
“Yeah? Like Bear?” Carmen muttered. 
Your nose crinkled gently. “He doesn’t really look like a Bear.” 
“No,” Carmen agreed, shaking his head. “More like a Garfield.” 
You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. “That’s such a gimme name.” You shook your head. “Maybe not the restaurant, exactly, but… similar?” 
“Yeah? Like Trash Can?” Carmen muttered, lips curling playfully. 
You gasped lightly, smacking his leg playfully. “No.” You huffed. “Something maybe with food?” 
“Carrot?” 
“No.” You pouted lightly, head tilting towards the small cat, occupied with Carmen’s sweatpant strings. “What about, like, Anchovy?” 
“Anchovy?” Carmen snorted in amusement softly. 
“Yeah, like the fish.” You shrugged softly. “And cats eat fish- well, in the cartoons they do, y’know?” 
“Yeah, I know, baby.” Carmen grinned softly down at you. “You think he looks like an Anchovy?” 
The small kitten turned, perking towards Carmen, padding happily over to him. Your face lit, glowing with beaming pride and adoration as Carmen scooped up the small kitten, let him rub his face into his chest sleepily- sweetly. You thought you might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sight. 
“Alright.” Carmen laughed lightly. “Think you’re right. Think he’s an Anchovy.” 
“Anchovy Berzatto.” You hummed, crawling between Carmen’s spread legs, petting the tiny cat. You smiled so brightly at Carmen, his own cheeks burned, flaming under your radiant affection. 
Your lips caught him again, pulling him in for a sweet, longing kiss over the small kitten’s head. Your hands in Carmen’s hair, pulling him closer and closer, kissing him like a lifeline- it made his head swim, chest swell with adoration. 
Anchovy chirped, teetering on a meow and yawn, little paw stretching in Carmen’s hold. Your forehead pressed to Carmen's, you ducked down to coo at the small kitten, moving to sit in between Carmen’s legs, your back to his chest. 
Home with your little family, complete with the little kitten, Anchovy Berzatto.
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