#it's my birthday and my family is all 2 hours away and all my friends are also either 2 hours away or busy

[steviescrystals]

there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/

[starksnarks]

just cried in the mcdonalds drive through bc the lady told me to enjoy my coffee and have a wonderful day

[rosyblooom]

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

comments have been disabled

8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives���into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others

f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

[thedensworld]

Falling Flower | K.Mg

Pairing: CEO Mingyu! x Secretary Reader

Genre: suggestive, fluff, humour, angst

Summary: Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.

Warning: child abuse, mental health, pregnancy, unprotected sex, ptsd, asexual description on character, heavy plot asdfghjkl.

Part 2 has uploaded here: Flower Bloomed

Mingyu's nervous anticipation lingered in the air as he rhythmically tapped his finger on the sofa, his other hand guarding his mouth to restrain words he feared might escape. Across the room, Choi Seungcheol remained absorbed in finishing his work, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil brewing within his younger friend.

"I was surprised when I heard you'll be visiting," Seungcheol remarked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Mingyu's restlessness. Rising from his desk, he joined Mingyu on the sofa, prompting a flicker of hope in the younger man's eyes.

The door creaked open, and Mingyu's gaze snapped toward the entrance, only to be met with disappointment as one of Seungcheol's secretaries entered. A visible trace of frustration clouded Mingyu's expression, realizing he wouldn't see you upon the door's opening, a fact that had fueled his anticipation since stepping into the building.

"Here's your coffee, gentlemen," the secretary politely interjected, placing the cups on the table. Instead of retreating, he cleared his throat, vying for both Seungcheol and Mingyu's attention, though Mingyu sensed the message was primarily for Seungcheol.

"Ms. Ji has informed that she needs a day of rest and may join you tomorrow, sir. I'll be attending today," the secretary conveyed, a hint of formality in his words. Seungcheol's forehead creased with concern, and Mingyu, sensing an underlying tension, couldn't help but wonder about the undisclosed circumstances.

"Why didn't she call me? Is she alright?" Seungcheol's voice held genuine worry, and Mingyu found himself caught in the currents of concern and curiosity, eager to unravel the mystery veiled behind Seungcheol's questioning tone.

"Yes, she's alright. She didn't want to worry you, sir. Please let me know if there's anything you need," the secretary assured, earning a nod from Seungcheol before gracefully exiting the office.

Mingyu, sensing an unspoken weight in the air, couldn't hold back his concern. "What's wrong? What happened to Y/n?"

Seungcheol, his face etched with a sigh, began to unravel the untold tale. "She collapsed an hour before you came."

Mingyu gasped, the news hitting him like a sudden storm. "Is she alright?"

Seungcheol, taking a contemplative sip of his coffee, revealed, "Just like what you heard from Jun earlier. She never takes a day off and barely has any rest. I was worried because she has no one but a roommate."

The revelation gripped Mingyu's attention. "No one? You mean family?"

Seungcheol's furrowed brows hinted at a mystery yet to be unraveled. "I don't know, but she didn't write down her family members on the application form."

Seungcheol swiftly redirected the conversation, his tone revealing a calculated move. "Why are we suddenly talking about my secretary? I know you're here with a reason, right? Is it about the article released yesterday?" Mingyu, caught off guard by the shift, sensed that Seungcheol might be deliberately steering away from the topic of Y/n.

"You've got it pretty bad, my man. That's why you disappeared all of a sudden, huh?" Seungcheol remarked, referring to a photo of Mingyu with a woman at Joshua's birthday party. Mingyu sighed, wearied by the older man's probing questions. "It's almost two months already, but why did the media have to release it right before my company's anniversary?" he lamented, finding solace in finally having an outlet for the frustration that had built up since the article's publication.

"They even wrote 'Kim Group's heir playboy agenda...'" Mingyu paused, attempting to convey his exasperation by showing something on his phone.

Seungcheol stifled a laugh while reading a headline the media had crafted. "Kim Mingyu: a businessman who's ready to sweep your heart. Pfftt.."

Mingyu pocketed his phone, frustration evident in his voice. "I didn't go study business in the States just to be accused as a playboy." The weight of Mingyu's words hung in the air, a mix of pride and frustration as he grappled with the undeserved label imposed by the media.

Seungcheol nodded knowingly. "I know. It was your fault starting that playboy image when you brought actress Kim Huisoo to the Jeon charity ball years ago," he stated matter-of-factly, a fact that sent Mingyu's head spinning.

"I know. I should've clarified that Kim Huisoo is actually a cousin. She doesn't want the public to know she's part of our family," Mingyu sighed, a tinge of regret coloring his words.

Seungcheol, nonchalant, shrugged. "It was a good decision that I only brought Y/n to every event I attended." He continued, "That's why I told you to have a woman as your secretary."

"Not all women are Ji Y/n," Mingyu muttered, rolling his eyes at the older man.

Seungcheol smiled proudly. "That's true."

Mingyu, shifting his posture, finally divulged his true purpose. "Talking about Y/n... I actually came here to meet her." He paused, but before he could elaborate, Seungcheol interjected, "What is it?"

Shaking his head, Mingyu rose from his seat. "I should get going. Are you coming to Wonwoo's after-party tomorrow?" he inquired, leaving Seungcheol in a state of confusion. Despite the lingering questions, Seungcheol could only nod as Mingyu exited his office. The unspoken complexities of Mingyu's visit left Seungcheol pondering, unsure of the full extent of what transpired within those walls.

*

"You must be kidding me, right?" Minseo exclaimed incredulously, throwing her hands in the air as if attempting to physically reject the words that had just escaped your lips. A nervous laughter bubbled up within her, and she desperately clung to the hope that it was all some elaborate joke. "It was a joke, right? Ok, nice one," she managed to say between laughter, offering you a compliment for what inadvertently became an unexpected ab workout from holding back her amusement.

As you gazed at Minseo, a profound calmness settled over you, concealing the internal turmoil that had been brewing since yesterday. Silently, you wished for this surreal revelation to be nothing more than a prank or a bizarre dream. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, prompting a deep sigh as you leaned into the sofa. Fatigue gripped you, and you closed your eyes, seeking a momentary escape from the harsh reality that had unfolded.

Kim Minseo scrutinized your expression, her own heartbeat quickening as the reality of your confession sank in. The gravity of your words was unmistakable, and there was a palpable tension in the air – nothing about this was a joke. The weight of the truth hung heavily between you.

In a surge of disbelief and frustration, Minseo seized your collar, her grip tight and accusatory. "You're crazy?! How could you get pregnant all of a sudden?!" Her words erupted like a storm, echoing through the room as she confronted the unexpected revelation.

You furrowed your brow, a mixture of annoyance and resignation etching your features. "I know. It just happened," you mumbled, attempting to convey the unexpected nature of the situation. However, the mounting tension pushed you to a breaking point, and in a moment of frustration, you pushed Minseo away. The force caused her to stumble, landing on the floor – a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had unraveled in mere moments. The room now held an uneasy silence, broken only by the echoes of Minseo's shout and the lingering weight of an unforeseen reality.

Minseo swiftly rose from the floor, her urgency palpable as she seized your arm. "Let's go have an abortion!" she declared, the words hanging in the air with a weight you never anticipated coming from her.

Your eyes widened in shock, the gravity of Minseo's suggestion hitting you like a sudden storm. Her unexpected proposal left you speechless, grappling with the reality of the situation. This was a turn of events you hadn't prepared for, and the tension in the room escalated.

"What?" you stammered, the incredulity evident in your voice. The idea of Minseo suggesting such a course of action caught you off guard, unraveling any expectations you might have had.

Minseo locked eyes with you, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "What?" she echoed, seeking a response to her proposal.

Shaking your head, you replied hastily, "I don't have time. I have work to do!" The weight of responsibilities, both unexpected and preexisting, pressed on you, clouding your judgment.

In response, Minseo gasped before tightening her grip on your collar once again. "And you've got time to get knocked?" she retorted, her frustration evident as the confrontation escalated, leaving both of you ensnared in a complex web of emotions and decisions.

Observing your silent turmoil, Minseo released a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of understanding. Her eyes softened as she settled beside you, gently taking hold of your hand in a gesture of support. "How long is it?" she inquired, her tone filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

You turned your head to meet her gaze, the vulnerability in your eyes reflecting the reality of the situation. "5 weeks," you revealed, the weight of those weeks palpable in the heaviness of the air.

A nervous edge crept into Minseo's voice as she broached a sensitive question, "Do you know the father?" Her inquiry hung in the air, the uncertainty adding an extra layer of tension to the conversation.

Closing your eyes, you hesitated, reluctant to delve into that particular topic just yet. Instead, you nodded, your acknowledgment accompanied by a flood of memories from the night in question. Regret washed over you as you raised your hands to cover your face. Rather than succumbing to sadness, embarrassment swept over you like an overwhelming wave, adding a complex layer to the emotional tapestry that unfolded. The room, once charged with confrontation, now held a delicate atmosphere of shared vulnerability and unspoken understanding.

The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't escape the realization that it was a mere drunken mistake – a wishful thinking that somehow the alcohol had clouded the events of that night. However, clarity hit hard as you acknowledged that you were a hundred percent sober, the memories of that regrettable night etched vividly in your mind. A part of you yearned for him to forget, yet another part wished he would remember.

"Noooo!" The exclamation escaped your lips as you kicked your leg into the air, a spontaneous outburst that startled Minseo, sitting beside you and absorbing the rollercoaster of emotions.a

Minseo, with a careful tone, sought to understand the complexity of the situation. "It's not just a random person you met at a club or something, right? The father?" she asked, delicately navigating the sensitive terrain.

"It'll be better," you mumbled in response, a quiet plea for understanding. The weight of the truth and the potential consequences loomed large, creating a web of conflicting emotions that both bound and divided you in this unexpected journey.

Minseo's palm met her forehead in an exasperated gesture. "Okay!" she declared as she rose from her seat, pointing a finger at you to emphasize the undeniable fact – you were five weeks pregnant. The weight of the revelation settled in the room as she continued, "And I'm going to fly to the States for study in three days."

A cloud of guilt seemed to shadow her expression as she posed a poignant question. "Are you okay with me leaving you?" The concern in her eyes was evident, a reflection of the dilemma she found herself in.

You nodded reassuringly, "Yeah, don't worry. It's not like my entire life would change," you offered, attempting to alleviate Minseo's concerns and downplay the upheaval that lay ahead.

"Should I delay my study and help you instead?" Minseo queried, raising a brow in consideration.

In response, you playfully threw a pillow in her direction, the well-aimed hit prompting a light chuckle. "No way! You worked hard for this. You should go," you insisted, appreciating her ambitions and refusing to be the reason for any detour.

"It's not like it's my first time living alone," you added, attempting to underscore your self-sufficiency despite the unexpected circumstances. Minseo observed you, her worry evident as she mumbled, "But you're pregnant."

Standing up, you prepared to retreat to your room, asserting, "It's just pregnancy, Minseo. I'll get used to it. Don't worry," leaving a lingering reassurance in the air as you walked to your room. You definitely need time to process this.

*

As you strolled towards the office, Seungcheol abruptly halted and called your attention, snapping you out of the daydream that had seemingly captivated your thoughts since morning.

"Are you okay? Do you need a day off?" he inquired, observing your startled expression. You shook your head, offering your usual smile. "I'm good, sir. Just lost in thought. I apologize," you said, motioning for him to resume the journey to his office.

"What did the hospital say about your condition yesterday? I hope it's nothing that's causing you to be distracted today," he remarked, a mix of jest and genuine concern in his tone. Clearing your throat, you reassured him, "i'm fine, sir. Just exhaustion. I rested well yesterday," you explained.

Once the two of you arrived in front of his office, he paused, refraining from entering immediately. Turning towards you, he hesitated for a moment before extending an invitation, "Can you accompany me for my schedule tonight? Just until the after party."

Nodding in acknowledgment, you took note of this favor, "Do you want me to come in a suit or a dress, sir?" It was a routine question, one you always posed whenever the same agenda surfaced.

"Dress, please. Even though it's Wonwoo's birthday, you know how the Jeons are with their events," he replied, a subtle reminder of the grandeur and regality that often accompanied gatherings hosted by the Jeon family.

As you nodded and respectfully bowed, returning to your desk, Seungcheol unexpectedly swung his office door open once again, prompting you to turn your head towards him.

"Yes, sir?" you inquired, noticing the furrow on Seungcheol's brow.

"Mingyu was looking for you yesterday. Do you have business with him that I don't know about?" he questioned, his tone reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Caught off guard, you paused for a moment before nervously responding, "He might want to confront me for a mistake I made last week. I mistakenly scheduled a meeting with him earlier than intended." The unexpected visit from the heir of Kim Group, CEO Kim FnB, Kim Mingyu, still surprised you.

Raising an eyebrow, Seungcheol pressed further, "Why does he have to confront you himself?"

You shrugged, replying, "Mr. Yoon was like that as well," referencing Jeonghan, Seungcheol's friend who often interacted with you in a friendly manner.

Seungcheol sighed, expressing his concern, "Please tell me immediately if the boys bother you next time," his words carried a protective tone, a reminder of the tight-knit group of friends you had become acquainted with through your association with him.

As you nodded in acknowledgment, gratitude laced your words, "Yes, sir... Thank you so much." Seungcheol reciprocated the nod before gently closing the door, leaving you alone at your desk.

A heavy breath of relief escaped you as you contemplated why Kim Mingyu sought you out. Did he remember? You shook your head, recalling that he seemed oblivious that night, likely due to intoxication. If only you hadn't approached him at the bar and engaged in conversation.

To shake off the lingering thoughts, you resorted to a series of self-slaps to regain focus. There was a pile of work, emails to send, and phone calls to make. Distractions happened, but you were determined to get back on track.

Just as you were settling into your tasks, a phone call from Minseo interrupted your concentration. Her urgent tone conveyed a sense of distress. "Ji Y/n, what am I gonna do? My course starts earlier than I expected, and I have to fly to the States by tonight," she explained, painting a picture of her predicament.

"Really? But I have a schedule tonight; I can't come to the airport," you replied, glancing at your itinerary, which indicated the after party starting at 11. A brief moment of realization hit you; that was the time you'd be free.

"It's okay. Please make sure that you call me if anything happens, okay? I'm in the middle of packing!" Minseo requested, seeking reassurance.

"Hmm... Take care," you replied, the weight of conflicting priorities settling in.

*

"Mr. Bae Inhyeon, President of Gubbae Electronic, at 12 o'clock," you whispered to Seungcheol, trailing a few inches behind him. Seungcheol's grin widened, and he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture towards Bae Inhyeon. You followed suit, offering a polite bow as Seungcheol introduced you as his dedicated secretary.

Not even ten minutes had passed since you and Seungcheol arrived, yet the room buzzed with excitement as everyone eagerly anticipated meeting Seungcheol, the formidable contender for the future presidency of Choi Corp. With a subtle finesse, you discreetly shared the names of those who greeted him, offering hushed insights behind his back. Your role extended beyond mere administrative duties; you navigated the intricate web of industry relationships with adept skill.

As the interactions unfolded, you observed the dynamics at play, blending seamlessly into the background while subtly influencing the course of conversations. The air was charged with ambition and anticipation, a palpable energy that hinted at the high stakes involved in the corporate world. Your commitment to understanding the industry's players proved invaluable as you seamlessly assisted Seungcheol in navigating the intricate social fabric of business engagements. In this fast-paced environment, your keen awareness and discreet gestures spoke volumes about your competency as a secretary.

After exchanging pleasantries with the gathering, Seungcheol made his way to Wonwoo, the man of the hour celebrating his birthday. With a subtle motion, he indicated for you to enjoy the impending festivities, as the ceremony for the launch of Wonwoo's entertainment label was about to commence.

Taking advantage of the brief moment, you excused yourself and navigated toward the restroom, intent on a quick check of your appearance. Inside, you found two women engaged in a lively conversation, their camaraderie evident.

As you eavesdropped on their discussion, it became apparent that they were the "plus one", well-versed in the dynamics of the industry. The woman in the black dress remarked enthusiastically, "Did you see Kim Mingyu entering the ballroom? This place lit up."

Her companion, while reapplying lipstick, nodded with a knowing smile. "He's a fine man, and he's still young. What do you expect from a conglomerate?"

The black dress woman chuckled, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "However, he's a womanizer, do you know that?" she revealed.

The woman in the yellow dress responded with a teasing tone, "With that look, he couldn't not be one. If my daddy ever grows tired of me, I might just throw myself at him."

A sigh escaped your lips as you turned your head towards the animated conversation. "Excuse me, Daddy's babies. Could you lower your voices a bit? Thanks," you calmly requested, punctuating the statement with a corporate smile that concealed any underlying irritation.

They scrutinized you from head to toe, skepticism evident in their eyes. One of them, with a hint of disdain, asked, "Who are you? It doesn't seem like you're part of their circle. Are you also a mistress?" Laughter ensued from both, the echoes of their amusement resonating within the restroom.

Undeterred, you gracefully walked away. Just before reaching the exit, you turned your body and retorted, "Do I look like one of you guys? Stop joking!" The playful remark carried a touch of assertiveness as you left the restroom, leaving behind the lingering traces of your unyielding self-assurance.

The ceremony had yet to begin, and as you wandered around the ballroom, Seungcheol appeared to relish his newfound freedom in your absence. Determined to locate him, you scanned the crowd for his familiar figure.

Amidst your search, a man approached, introducing himself as Lee Jaewook. "You might know me from my father, Lee Daeyong, of Daeyong Finance," he stated confidentially, handing you a glass of wine.

"What's your name, lady?"

Politely accepting the glass, you replied, "Ji Y/n."

His admission continued, "I've seen you around sometimes, but I never dared to approach you."

Nodding graciously, you offered a warm smile. "I appreciate that. I'm engaged," you revealed, lifting your hand to showcase the engagement ring you always wore to events—a precautionary measure suggested by Seungcheol. The ring had been carefully chosen and purchased by him.

Jaewook appeared taken aback, inquiring, "Are you with your fiance then? May I know him?" Before you could utter a response, a hand slipped around your waist, catching you off guard. Turning, you found Kim Mingyu with a smile that seemed to hold secrets shared between them and extended to Jaewook.

"I've been looking for you," Mingyu remarked softly, his words carrying a certain ambiguity. Confusion etched across your face as you regarded him, but any questions were silenced as he whispered into your ear, "Just play with me."

"Kim Mingyu, I didn't know you had such a beautiful fiancée," Lee Jaewook remarked, a touch of admiration in his voice. Mingyu responded with a charming smile, acknowledging the compliment, "Yeah, it's not easy to have a beautiful fiancée and try to keep her away from some foxy eyes around. Right, Lee Jaewook?" He took the glass of wine from your hand, sipping it casually as if to emphasize his point.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, wondering about Mingyu's unexpected playfulness. It was a departure from the composed and mysterious demeanor he had displayed earlier. As Lee Jaewook smiled and excused himself, stating, "I should go. See you later, you two," you couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of intrigue and uncertainty.

As Lee Jaewook departed, you seized the opportunity, releasing a fake cough to capture Mingyu's attention. He promptly withdrew his hand from your waist into his pocket, meeting your gaze with a hint of amusement. "Not even a thanks?" he teased, his tone carrying a playful edge.

You sighed, offering a gracious smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Kim." Intent on continuing your quest to find your boss, you began to move away, but Mingyu unexpectedly grasped your arm, halting your departure. "I think we have something to discuss."

Tilting your head skeptically, you mumbled, "I don't think so," though your heart betrayed you with a subtle flutter. Mingyu leaned in, his hand tracing your left arm as he whispered, "Even you wear the same bracelet as that night." The revelation caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, a rapid exhale betraying your flustered state.

A stroke of luck intervened as you caught sight of Seungcheol seated at his table with friends Jeonghan and Joshua. Turning to Mingyu, still playfully smiling, you seized the moment. "Let's talk tomorrow at lunch," you asserted before walking away, leaving behind a tantalizing air of mystery and a perplexed Kim Mingyu. The ballroom continued to buzz with anticipation, but your focus had shifted, promising a lunchtime rendezvous filled with unanswered questions and hidden intrigues.

*

Mingyu carefully placed your order on the table, his discomfort apparent as he kept a watchful eye on the surroundings—ever mindful of maintaining a low profile in the presence of college students. Taking your sandwich, you remarked, "No one knows you here," alluding to the anonymity offered by the casual crowd.

Sitting across from you, Mingyu sighed, his gaze fixated on you as you began to eat. A playful smile crept onto his cheeks as he teased, "Slow down, Seungcheol hyung must have starved you, right?"

You shook your head, replying, "I've been wanting this," prompting a chuckle from Mingyu.

While you effortlessly devoured your sandwich, you noticed Mingyu hadn't taken a single bite of his. A trace of guilt flickered across your face, leading you to apologize, "Sorry, is it not to your liking?" His soft laughter followed, leaving you puzzled.

"Why are you laughing?" you inquired, furrowing your brows.

Mingyu shook his head, "No, it's just... I like it," he confessed, his smile genuine.

Curiosity piqued, you casually asked, sipping your orange juice, "What do you like?"

His response caught you off guard, "I like how you're so casual when it's only the two of us."

The unexpected revelation caused you to halt mid-sip, setting the stage for a moment of candid connection amid the backdrop of a quiet lunchtime rendezvous. The air hung with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as you navigated the uncharted territory of personal interaction with Kim Mingyu.

"Never in my life did I think I would have the chance to talk to you until you approached me at the bar," Mingyu began, his words carrying a tinge of vulnerability. "We talked about a lot of things, right? I remembered them all. I also remember... Hmm... What happened next," he nervously confessed.

Your nod signaled acknowledgment, but you found yourself at a loss for words. Mingyu's next statement caught you off guard, "I want to know your feelings about me," he admitted, leaving you slightly taken aback.

Raising your brow, you responded almost whisperingly, "My feelings?" Mingyu nodded earnestly, revealing, "Because I don't resent everything that happened that night. On the contrary, I found it profound."

A pregnant pause hung in the air as you processed his unexpected confession. Finally, you let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension, "I didn't expect this, Mr. Kim. I mean, it's not very much like how you are portrayed. Your image... is not very much sentimental like this."

Mingyu nodded, "I know, but this is who I am," he explained, his sincerity evident. You released a sigh, leaning back in your chair. Your gaze fixed on him, and you adjusted your posture before expressing, "I don't do romance, Mr. Kim. Honestly, I don't know how to do that. And you know how I'm almost married to my work as Mr. Choi's secretary. I—"

Mingyu quickly nodded, understanding the complexities of your professional life. "Yeah, I understand. I won't rush you. I just want to let you know about my feelings after that night. I'll wait for your answer; take your time," he interjected, cutting through your explanation to emphasize his genuine intention.

You nodded slowly, a quiet acknowledgment of his understanding. "Thanks..." you mumbled, your gratitude mingling with a sense of contemplation.

"And please," Mingyu paused, his eyes holding a plea, "don't avoid me from this time." The request hung in the air, underscoring the vulnerability of the moment.

The encounter with Mingyu left your thoughts in disarray, making it challenging to concentrate on your work. Even Seungcheol's calls failed to pull you out of the daydream that enveloped your mind. Concerned about your well-being after your recent collapse, Seungcheol insisted you leave on time, assuring you that Jun would take care of his needs.

Reluctantly, you took the bus home. As you walked from the bus stop to your shared apartment with Minseo, another sigh escaped your lips. The absence of Minseo for the next two months strangely saddened you, a departure from your usual contentment with solitude.

You never disliked the moments of solitude, relishing the times when you could come home and find Minseo absent. Cooking a delicious meal for her, anticipating her return around 9 while you were immersed in work preparations, and going to bed by 10 had become a comforting routine. However, the sudden longing for Minseo highlighted a void that even the familiarity of solitude couldn't fill.

Your phone rang, and a smile lit up your face when you saw Minseo's name on the caller ID. Greeting her with enthusiasm, you were met with Minseo's melodramatic tone, "What's up with your voice? You're not happy I'm calling you?"

Chuckling softly, you replied, "It's not like that. Just... tired."

Minseo, always quick with her teasing, inquired about the baby. Confused, you questioned, "What's with the baby?"

With an eye roll you could almost feel through the phone, Minseo clarified, "Your baby! The baby inside you... How are they doin'?"

"As tired as their mom," you playfully responded, earning a laugh from Minseo. She then delved into the topic of keeping the baby, referencing her suggestion, to get an abortion. Swiftly dismissing the idea, you explained, "No! I heard it's hurting and takes time to recover. I don't—"

Minseo interrupted with a humorous impersonation, "I don't have time, I have works to do. Bla-bla-bla..." Her words made you laugh.

Regarding the father, you admitted to talking to him but hesitated to share the news. Minseo expressed concern, urging you not to keep the situation from him. However, you confessed, "I just think I don't need him in the frame. You know what I mean."

Concerned, Minseo probed, "But are you gonna be okay with that?" A pregnant pause followed as you contemplated the question, questioning your own feelings about having the baby.

"I don't know. Should I go with your suggestion instead?" you asked, prompting Minseo's playful screams.

"I was just joking! But... I support whatever you decide, Y/n. Just tell me first," Minseo reassured.

As you arrived at your apartment building, you concluded the call, promising to keep Minseo updated. The weight of the decisions ahead lingered, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of the future.

*

Feeling unexpectedly unwell, you woke up with a fever four days later. Quickly, you informed Jun and Seungcheol about the situation through messages, indicating the possibility of taking a day off. Seungcheol, concerned for your well-being, immediately called and offered to take you to the doctor or send one to your house. Politely declining, you assured him that a paracetamol might alleviate the fever.

Throughout the day, you remained in bed, the passage of time marked by your fitful sleep. The darkness outside hinted at the advancing evening, but your fever persisted, accompanied by bouts of nausea. Realizing you hadn't eaten since last night's simple ramen, you mustered the strength to walk to the kitchen.

Dizziness accompanied every step as you prepared another pack of ramen on the stove. Approaching the dinner table where your phone lay, you noticed a barrage of notifications that had accumulated since you turned it off in the morning. Just as you contemplated checking them, a phone call interrupted, and it was Minseo on the line.

Weakly greeting Minseo, you sensed the surprise in her voice as she questioned your well-being. Admitting, "I can't reach you all day. You okay, Y/n?" you confessed, "No... I feel about to faint."

Minseo's voice filled with concern as she pressed for details, "Hey... What's wrong?" The line remained silent as she called out your name repeatedly, growing increasingly anxious.

The lack of response heightened Minseo's panic, a situation she dreaded when leaving you alone. Despite your usual resilience, your occasional bouts of sickness always managed to evoke worry in her. She understood the contrasts in your persona – the organized, straight, and ideal image you presented to the world, counterbalanced by the underlying quirks of your clumsiness and forgetfulness. It was these very qualities that fueled your meticulous note-taking and organizational skills, making you an exceptional secretary.

Minseo, feeling the urgency of the situation, contemplated making a crucial phone call. Aware that something dangerous might transpire if she remained passive, she considered potential contacts. Mr. Park, her father's driver, was quickly dismissed as he was occupied attending to her father. Mr. Seo, her mother's assistant, was also ruled out, as informing him would inevitably reach her mother, who was unaware of Minseo's current location in the States.

Her thoughts turned to her brother. Trusting him implicitly, Minseo decided to call him. Dialing his number, she anxiously waited, relieved when he picked up after only a moment. The connection established, she began to share the concerning situation unfolding with you.

A playful voice greeted Minseo's call, "What is it, Kim Minseo?"

Panicking, Minseo quickly explained, "Oppa, help me! My friend is sick at the moment. And I think she's collapsed in the middle of a phone call!"

There was a pause for seconds before her brother responded, "And then?"

"She's in my apartment; she's my roommate. Can you come and see her? I just wanna know if she's fine," Minseo requested, making a favor to her brother.

She heard him sigh, "Why don't you check her yourself?"

"I'm not in Korea! I'm in the States," Minseo forcefully admitted. "Don't tell anyone."

Curiosity piqued, her brother pressed, "Why are you there? Tell me first!"

Minseo sighed, "I'll tell you later. Please come to my apartment first. Please! Please..."

"Alright, send me the location and details," he finally agreed, the concern evident in his voice.

*

As Mingyu sighed after ending the call with his younger sister, he signaled his secretary to drive to her apartment first. In the car, he muttered, "She only calls me if she needs anything."

Observing the situation, Mr. Song inquired, "Is it your sister?" Mingyu nodded in confirmation.

"She wants me to check on her friend. I'm a busy person; why doesn't she ask one of her friends?" Mingyu found the request somewhat perplexing.

Deciding to comply, he turned to Mr. Song, "Can you accompany me, Mr. Song? I don't think it'll be appropriate if I'm the only one who goes into the apartment."

Fortunately, the drive took only 15 minutes, as Mingyu was in the nearby area. Once they arrived, Mingyu scrutinized the details his sister had sent, leading them to the 8th floor and apartment number 802. Entering the elevator, Mingyu and Mr. Song ascended to the designated floor.

Arriving on the intended floor, Mingyu and Mr. Song were met with an unexpected aroma of smoke that hung in the air. Mr. Song astutely noticed wisps of smoke escaping from the door of apartment 802.

"Mr. Kim, there's smoke from inside," he urgently alerted Mingyu.

Worried, Mingyu swiftly called Minseo, urgently seeking the passcode. "Is your friend cooking something? There's smoke from inside," he conveyed the developing situation to his sister.

After Mr. Song adeptly opened the door, Mingyu concluded the phone call and entered the apartment. Smoke engulfed them, prompting both Mingyu and Mr. Song to shield their mouths and noses. The room was shrouded in a haze as they cautiously proceeded further inside.

Reacting quickly, Mr. Song rushed to the intercom, activating the smoke detection features. A cascade of water descended from the ceiling, effectively extinguishing the smoke. Simultaneously, Mingyu focused on locating Minseo's friend, while Mr. Song skillfully handled the kitchen fire with an extinguisher.

In a moment of shocking revelation, Mingyu discovered a familiar figure lying weakly on the floor. The unexpected sight heightened the urgency of the situation.

Mingyu's heartbeat seemed to halt for a moment as he realized it was you lying weakly on the floor. Shock and concern painted his features as he swiftly assessed the situation.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed, his worry evident as he helped you navigate through the smoke-filled room. The urgency to get you to safety propelled Mingyu into action.

As the commotion in the apartment drew attention, assistance was summoned to the building. Mingyu carefully supported your weakened body, guiding you towards the paramedics who had arrived on the scene. The gravity of the situation was palpable, and Mingyu's focus remained steadfast on ensuring your well-being.

With a sense of urgency, Mingyu handed you over to the waiting paramedics, who quickly took charge, assessing your condition and providing the necessary care. The atmosphere around the apartment building buzzed with a blend of concern and the organized efforts of those responding to the emergency.

Mingyu, visibly distressed, trailed alongside the paramedics as they transported you to the hospital. Concern etched across his face, he couldn't shake off the worry that had gripped him since discovering you in the smoke-filled apartment.

Meanwhile, Mr. Song took it upon himself to retrieve some essentials for Mingyu. Understanding the need for a change of clothes, he swiftly headed to gather necessary items from Mingyu's residence.

At the hospital, Mingyu anxiously waited by your side as the medical team attended to your needs. The sterile environment of the emergency room seemed to amplify the tension in the air. Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your well-being, the unexpected turn of events leaving him grappling with a mixture of anxiety and a fervent hope for your recovery.

As the medical staff worked to stabilize you, Mingyu clung to the hope that the prompt medical attention would bring about positive results. The waiting room became a sanctuary of anticipation, each passing moment laden with the weight of uncertainty.

Mingyu, now clad in fresh and dry clothes, had made the call to Seungcheol, your boss, updating him about your condition. Seungcheol, concerned for his secretary, immediately rushed to the hospital.

In the interim, Mingyu instructed Mr. Song to go home, assuring him that he would wait for any updates on your condition. The hospital room became a temporary haven for Mingyu, a place where the weight of worry and the desire for your recovery lingered.

As Seungcheol entered the room, he looked at Mingyu, his face a mirror of concern. "How did you find her?" Seungcheol inquired, seeking details about the situation.

"My sister called for help; she's her roommate," Mingyu explained, still overwhelmed with the relevance of the events that had unfolded. The anticipation in the room heightened as they waited for the doctor to arrive and shed light on your condition. The air was thick with a sense of urgency and concern, Seungcheol's presence serving as a testament to the tight-knit nature of the professional relationships that had become entwined with personal care and worry.

The doctor entered the room, and a hushed silence fell upon Mingyu and Seungcheol, their eyes locked on the medical professional who held the key to understanding your condition. The doctor, with a composed demeanor, began to detail the situation, "Her lungs were filled with smoke, and we've cleared it. However, recovery will take time, and we recommend several medical check-ups to monitor her progress."

A solemn nod from Mingyu and Seungcheol acknowledged the gravity of the situation. However, the atmosphere shifted when the doctor broached the subject of your pregnancy. "The baby is fine," the doctor reassured, but then added, "Careful body maintenance is crucial, especially in the delicate first trimester, which poses potential risks."

Mingyu and Seungcheol exchanged a bewildered glance, the revelation about your pregnancy catching them off guard. The unspoken tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unexpected responsibilities settled upon their shoulders.

Surprised by this new information, the doctor, unaware of the dynamics between Mingyu and Seungcheol, inquired about the father. The question hung in the air, adding a layer of complexity to an already intricate situation. "I apologize for having to announce the situation this way," the doctor offered, sensing the discomfort in the room.

As the doctor conducted a few more checks, a conversation ensued between Mingyu and Seungcheol, attempting to process the unforeseen turn of events. Mingyu's voice carried a mix of astonishment and concern, "I had no idea."

Seungcheol, still processing the information, responded with a solemn nod, "Me neither."

The doctor, having fulfilled their medical duties, left the room, leaving Mingyu and Seungcheol to grapple with the newfound realities.

"I don't know Y/n has boyfriend." Seungcheol said as he turned his head toward Mingyu. Meanwhile Mingyu only could stand still in silence. Contemplating everything that has happened.

*

"Yeah, she's fine. I promised I'll take care of her. Just make sure you tell Mom soon that you're not in Korea," Mingyu reassured his sister over the phone, updating her on your condition.

Mingyu settled onto the sofa in your room, patiently awaiting the moment you'd regain consciousness. The clock mercilessly ticked away, indicating the wee hours of the morning – 3 am. Fatigue tugged at him; Mr. Song and Seungcheol had returned home hours ago. Still, Mingyu couldn't bring himself to leave your side after discovering the truth about your condition – the possibility of you carrying his child.

As he sat there, a mix of concern and anticipation played across Mingyu's face, his fatigue overshadowed by a sense of responsibility and newfound realization. The room held a quiet tension, disrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Mingyu found himself reflecting on the recent conversation with Seungcheol regarding your love life. Seungcheol had candidly admitted that, despite working closely for nearly five years, you never divulged any details about a boyfriend or romantic partner. This revelation was particularly striking, considering your previous role as his father's secretary. Mingyu's thoughts were further compounded by your recent statement that you were not one for romance, leading him to consider the possibility that he might be the only one who had shared intimate moments with you.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu as he contemplated his own admission. If he were to be honest, his sentiments mirrored yours. As the CEO, the weight of significant responsibilities for the company and its staff often overwhelmed him. Despite his parents attempting to arrange matches with various conglomerate daughters, none had piqued his interest. Mingyu's sister, ever the worrier, had chosen a different path, steering clear of the family business to pursue a culinary career.

In the quiet of the room, Mingyu grappled with the complexities of his life. The burden of expectations, both familial and professional, weighed heavily on him. His fatigue was not only physical but also carried the weight of emotional fatigue, a longing for something more than the orchestrated connections and societal expectations that surrounded him.

The memory of that pivotal night at Joshua's party flooded back to him. Mingyu recalled the details vividly – you in a sleek black dress, the distinct order you placed at the bar, the subtle grace with which you caught the bartender's attention. And then, there was that moment when you turned your head towards him, inquiring with a simple yet impactful, "How's life, Mr. Kim?" It was a question that had lingered in Mingyu's mind, offering a glimpse of connection and a departure from the orchestrated rhythm of his existence.

Mingyu couldn't help but let out a chuckle, finding himself at a loss for words in response to a question he rarely encountered. "How's life?" he mused internally.

"I don't know, how's yours?" he finally replied to your query, intrigued by the unexpected turn of conversation.

You nonchalantly shrugged and took a sip of your orange juice. "Great... Have to deal with a lot of work. But that's how life's supposed to be, right?" you remarked casually, and Mingyu felt a surprising sense of ease in conversing with you.

As the dialogue unfolded, Mingyu discovered a different side to you. You, who had garnered popularity among his friends, received commendation from Seungcheol for your efficiency as a secretary. Jeonghan and Seokmin, both directors in Seungcheol's company, couldn't stop praising your appearance. To them, it seemed like a waste for someone with your looks to be confined to the role of a secretary. Mingyu, too, was now realizing this as he observed the expression on your face while you responded to the questions he posed. Your answers resonated with him, and the realization sparked a connection that transcended the superficiality of social expectations.

Mingyu's alcohol tolerance had always been high, and he vividly recalled urging you to step outside for some fresh air that night. Amidst the ambient glow near the pool and beneath a palm tree, he found himself whispering compliments about your striking appearance. That innocent exchange led to a shared first kiss, and what began with a kiss soon escalated into something more dangerously intimate. Mingyu, fueled by alcohol, surrendered to the lack of control, embracing the pleasure rather than resenting it. In the haze of the night, he anticipated more with you.

However, the harsh light of morning revealed a stark reality – he was left alone. Cold and isolated, Mingyu attempted to reach out, but you remained elusive, even through Mr. Song. He sought you out at Seungcheol's company, only to discover that you were avoiding him. It wasn't until Wonwoo's birthday that he could finally confront you.

In the midst of that confrontation, Mingyu grappled with unexpected emotions. It dawned on him that what he felt for you transcended the physical, extending beyond mere desire. Through your words, your thoughts, and the passionate expression of your opinions that night, Mingyu realized he had encountered a connection that went beyond the surface – a romantic sentiment.

As the weight of the situation pressed on him, Mingyu confronted a profound question. Was it a sin to consider that the baby you were carrying might be his? The uncertainty hung in the air, a heavy burden that only intensified the emotional turbulence within Mingyu.

"You're awake," Mingyu uttered softly as you slowly opened your eyes, a series of coughs escaping you. Concern etched across his face, Mingyu promptly summoned the doctor to attend to your needs. With a watchful eye, he observed your reactions as the doctor provided an explanation of your condition. A glimmer of hope flickered in Mingyu's gaze when your eyes briefly met his during the mention of your baby's condition.

Once the doctor concluded their visit, Mingyu pulled a chair close to your bedside. "How's your feeling?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You released a heavy sigh before confessing, "I was cooking ramen." Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the mundane details that led to your current state. "And it burned your apartment as you collapsed. Your fever has gone down though," he added, checking your temperature and tenderly placing his hand on your forehead.

"Mr. Kim, please stop," you urged, puzzled by the revelation that Mingyu was the one who saved you and brought you to the hospital in the nick of time. "How do you even know my address?" confusion laced your inquiry.

Mingyu, lips tightened, began to explain, "Kim Minseo called me to help his friend. She's... my sister." His nervous explanation hung in the air, leaving a palpable tension as he struggled to find the right words.

A silent gasp escaped you as you connected the dots, realizing the familial connection between Mingyu and your friend Minseo. Mingyu's gaze scrutinized your expression before delicately broaching the topic of the baby. "Do you know that you're expecting?" he cautiously inquired, and you nodded in confirmation.

"A week ago. A day before Mr. Jeon's birthday party," you revealed, answering Mingyu's unspoken question.

Mingyu took a deep breath, "is it mine?" He finally asked.

A prolonged silence hung in the air as you gazed into Mingyu's eyes. The hospital room seemed to hold its breath, the only audible sounds being the hum of medical equipment and distant footsteps. Breaking the stillness, you shook your head quickly and uttered, "It's mine," diverting your eyes elsewhere.

Mingyu released a heavy exhale, his confusion palpable. "It's mine, right?" he pressed again, seeking confirmation and clarity.

In response, you gently urged him to leave. "You should go, Mr. Kim. You must be exhausted, and you have work this morning. Thank you for your kindness," you murmured, closing your eyes as if to feign rest.

*

As you were discharged from the hospital, a familiar face caught your attention. Wi Seunghyun, your mother's secretary, gestured for you to join him in the waiting car. In silence, you complied, feeling the weight of the gaze that had been following you for months now. The realization of the observer's identity finally dawned on you.

Seunghyun drove you to your parent's house, the journey feeling interminable. Exhaustion clung to you, but nervous anticipation kept your eyes wide open. The looming entrance into the house held the promise of confrontations and revelations. You couldn't help but wonder about your mother's reaction upon learning about your condition.

Upon entering the family room, Seunghyun placed your hospital bag as your mother rose from her seat. Instead of the expected embrace that usually accompanied such news, a hard slap resonated through the room, nearly sending you to the floor. The sting of the unexpected physical blow mirrored the emotional shock of your mother's harsh response, creating a tense and disheartening atmosphere.

"How could you be more stupid, Ji Y/n? Getting pregnant before married? Are you some kind of whore?" Your mother, Sung Yaeun, delivered a harsh commentary on your situation, the biting words cutting through the air after months of not seeing each other.

"You've burned your apartment, gone homeless, and pregnant. You only come home every time you're in trouble," she continued, her words carrying a tone of disappointment and frustration as she moved away to sit on the sofa.

"Mr. Wi, please lock her in her room. Make sure no one could meet her unless by my instruction," she commanded, and without hesitation, Mr. Wi complied, tightening his grip on your arm. As your mother's orders were executed, you found yourself silently following Mr. Wi to your room, watching as you were locked in from the outside, isolated in the familiar yet unwelcoming confines of your old room.

The weight of your mother's harsh words and the physical confinement left you frozen, grappling with the harsh reality of your current predicament. The room, once a place of solace, now felt like a prison, amplifying the emotional turmoil within you.

Returning to this room after almost 10 years, you sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow escaping you as your body leaned against the door. The realization of the gravity of the situation hit you, and silent tears streamed down your face.

The memories of the last time you were in this house surfaced – the day your father passed away. Locked away and denied the chance to bid your father farewell, you had been blamed for his death by your mother. This confinement, the echoes of past injustices, resonated with the pain you thought you had left behind.

The recollection of being locked away and unjustly accused of your father's death brought forth a flood of emotions. Despite the passing years, the wounds remained fresh. The recognition that you didn't deserve the treatment meted out by your mother – the isolation, the starvation – washed over you. It wasn't the first time you had experienced being locked away, but now, you understood you didn't deserve it.

Escaping to your former nanny's house had been your refuge, a sanctuary where you completed your education and found a way to stand on your own. Working as Seungcheol's dad's secretary marked a turning point, allowing you to secure your own place and break free from the shackles of your past. Yet, the return to this house served as a stark reminder of the pain you had endured and the strength it took to overcome it.

From childhood, you grappled with the perplexing mystery of your mother's disdain. Her treatment was marked by physical abuse, emotional neglect, and an unsettling abandonment of your presence. Your father, blinded by allegiance, justified her actions under the guise of it being for your own good. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you slowly comprehended that love was an elusive sentiment within the confines of your home. The only solace you found was in the embrace of your nanny, Gam Mijoo, who became the beacon of warmth and care you craved.

As time unfolded, you began treating Mijoo as a surrogate parent, finding the love and nurturing that had eluded you elsewhere. However, the cruel hands of fate intervened when she passed away during your college years, succumbing to a heart attack.

Locked away in your childhood home, memories of Mijoo's comforting presence fueled your resilience. Despite the pain, you vowed to provide a different life for your unborn child, one filled with love and understanding.

*

A week had passed, and Mingyu found himself seated in front of his parents after a month, attempting to salvage their weekly dinners that had turned sporadic due to his demanding schedule. Amidst the shared meal, his father dropped an unexpected bombshell, leaving not only Mingyu but also his mother visibly stunned.

Mingyu's mother's voice rose to an uncharacteristic pitch, "What?!"

"Daeyoung suddenly came and congratulated me for your engagement. So, I was wondering if you finally found a girl you want to marry," his father revealed, triggering a heavy sigh from Mingyu. Lee Jaewook, the scoundrel.

The air thickened with tension as Mingyu grappled with the unforeseen revelation, and a mixture of disbelief and frustration played across his mother's face.

"So the woman from the article weeks ago. It was her? Your fiancée?" Mingyu's mother suddenly bombarded him with questions, referring to a photo taken while Mingyu was escorting you to his hotel room on the night of Joshua's birthday. Fortunately, they had blurred your face, only his was visible.

"Let's not talk about that," Mingyu said, attempting to halt his parents' interrogation.

His mother scoffed, "Why? We should talk about this! How dare you have an engagement without involving us. Is that a trend among youth nowadays?" Mingyu's father nodded in agreement, intensifying Mingyu's fatigue as he grappled with what response to give his parents.

"So, who's the girl? When can we meet her?" His father asked with curiosity, leaning in for answers.

Mingyu, caught off guard, shrugged, hesitating to provide an immediate response. "Answer your father, Kim Mingyu," urged his mother, her tone demanding clarity.

Sighing, Mingyu mumbled, "She's busy," buying himself time to consider his next words.

Mingyu's mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity, "Is she finishing her study abroad so that she can't meet us as soon as possible?" she guessed, eager for details. However, Mingyu shook his head, revealing a different truth.

"She's Seungcheol's secretary," Mingyu confessed, the weight of the revelation settling in the room.

Mingyu's father furrowed his brows, questioning, "You're in a relationship with a subordinate? Is she from a conglomerate?" The inquiry sent a wave of nervous tension through Mingyu as he grappled with the potential implications of his choices.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to maintain a facade of calmness. "She's an ordinary staff," he stated, a hint of defiance in his voice.

His mother gasped, "No! Your grandfather won't let you become the heir if you don't marry a conglomerate," she mumbled, a sense of family expectations weighing heavily on the conversation.

Rolling his eyes, Mingyu asserted, "I won't marry a spoiled conglomerate daughter," expressing his firm stance.

The discussion continued, with Mingyu's mother expressing her desire for him to marry someone he truly wanted. However, in the midst of their conversation, a sudden interruption occurred as Mingyu's father's secretary approached, presenting something on his screen. All eyes shifted to Mingyu, who was in the midst of his dinner.

"What?" Mingyu inquired, slightly irritated.

His father, removing his glasses and placing them on the dinner table, declared, "Kim Mingyu, I want you to bring her this weekend." A pregnant pause filled the air.

The weight of those words hit Mingyu like a sudden storm. Shocked and unable to comprehend what he had just heard, he rose from his seat and walked away from the dinner table. Mingyu hastily grabbed his phone, bombarded with messages from his secretary and friends. The notifications revealed a shocking headline: 'Kim Mingyu Seen in Hospital, Mysterious Girl Turns Out to be a Fiancée.' The revelation sent a wave of disbelief and confusion through Mingyu's already tumultuous evening.

Mingyu hurriedly made his way to his apartment, where he and Mr. Song had agreed to meet. Just as he entered, his phone rang, and Seungcheol's name flashed on the screen. Bracing himself, he answered, "I can explain."

A storm of rage and fury erupted from Seungcheol's voice, "How dare you touch my secretary!"

Concerned about your well-being, Mingyu quickly inquired, "Are you with her, hyung?" Hoping you were safe and in the company of Seungcheol.

Seungcheol's hum echoed through the phone, "In fact, she's been living in my house for almost a week."

Mingyu felt a stab of surprise, almost losing his composure at the unexpected revelation. "Why is she in your house?" he questioned, trying to make sense of the situation.

Seungcheol explained calmly, "You remember her apartment was burnt? It takes time to get it done. So she's living here temporarily. My girlfriend didn't mind either."

Sighing in relief, Mingyu acknowledged, "Alright, I'll be there in twenty, hyung." He ended the call, immediately contacting Mr. Song to redirect him to Seungcheol's place. As Mingyu navigated the complexities of the unfolding events, emotions ranging from relief to confusion swirled within him.

"She's in her room with Nari," Seungcheol mentioned, referring to his girlfriend. "However, I want to have a talk with you first," he continued, gesturing for Mingyu to sit on his couch.

As they settled into an uneasy silence, Seungcheol voiced the thought lingering in the air, "So, you two have an affair that I don't know," his words carried a mix of accusation and confusion, leaving Mingyu grappling for an adequate explanation.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into Mingyu, probing for answers, "Is she the girl in the recent articles?"

Mingyu, feeling the weight of truth, nodded, adding, "Also the one you've seen previously."

Curiosity etched Seungcheol's face as he asked, "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Nervously shaking his head, Mingyu replied, "We're not seeing each other. It just happened... But I truly care for her."

Seungcheol observed Mingyu's sincerity before delivering a revelation that added another layer of complexity, "I can see... But you know, Y/n's situation is complicated. She's having a baby."

Mingyu nodded, acknowledging the weight of the situation. "I actually think... it's mine," he confessed, revealing the depth of his realization.

Seungcheol, unfazed but understanding, remarked, "Kinda expected it, seeing how shocked you were when the doctor revealed it."

"However," Seungcheol continued, his frustration evident, "I don't think it's time for romance and all. The situation has become so complicated." He wiped his face, grappling with the complexities ahead.

Exhaling heavily, Mingyu leaned on the sofa, admitting, "I told my parents that we're both engaged. And they want to meet us this weekend."

Seungcheol silently gasped, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and resignation. "Kim Mingyu," he sighed, closing his eyes, "you know how to make things even more complicated." The tangled web of emotions and circumstances unfolded, leaving both men entangled in a situation neither had anticipated.

*

After a lengthy discussion with Mingyu, you concluded that it would be better to temporarily live with him rather than in Seungcheol's house. Despite Seungcheol being not only a great boss but also a good friend, you didn't want to impose on him and his girlfriend any further. Mingyu had shared his parents' response to the recent article, urging you to attend the upcoming dinner as his fiancée to maintain a semblance of normalcy. You agreed, as long as your identity remained private and Mingyu handled the situation.

However, there was one piece of shocking news for Mingyu. In reality, you were the heir of JIS Corp, a global automotive company based in South Korea. Your father, Ji Seunggi, was a former president of JIS Corp before it transitioned to being managed by a board vote after his passing. Meanwhile, your mother currently held the position of CEO within the company. The revelation left Mingyu puzzled and intrigued.

As Mingyu processed this unexpected disclosure, the question lingered in the air: why did you decide to work with Seungcheol despite your prominent family background?

"I didn't know you were Minseo's roommate," Mingyu admitted as you both drove to his place.

Humming, you responded, "I didn't know you were Minseo's brother." The revelation about your family backgrounds hadn't been a topic of discussion between you and Minseo, both preferring to keep a low profile regarding your respective family names.

Mingyu recalled a recent phone call with his sister, "She called me to help you that night... She's technically begging."

You sighed, acknowledging Minseo's sometimes bothersome but well-intentioned nature, "Yeah, she can be a bit—"

Mingyu cut in with a soft chuckle, "I know what you mean, darling."

Blinking at the unexpected pet name, you couldn't help but wonder, "Darling?" His choice of endearment added a surprising layer to the conversation, leaving you slightly taken aback.

You cleared your throat and asked, "Is your place far?" Mingyu shook his head.

"Not that far. It's pretty close to my company building and Choi Group. Do you drive to work?" Mingyu inquired.

"No," you confessed, surprising him. "Surprisingly, I couldn't drive."

Mingyu's brows raised, "Really? Then who drives for you and Seungcheol hyung?"

"Mostly, Mr. Won," you mentioned Seungcheol's driver. "But sometimes Seungcheol drove himself."

Mingyu smiled, "It's the first time I heard you call hyung by his name. It was always Mr. Choi."

You sighed, "I know, it's still awkward for me to change it. I've been calling him Mr. Choi for the past 5 years. He asked me, though, so I can't really refuse." You explained your reason to Mingyu.

"How about calling me Mingyu? Is it gonna be burdensome for you?"

You tilted your head, unsure. "I don't know."

Mingyu smirked, "Or do you have anything in your mind? Babe? Honey? Yeobo?" He joked, and you sighed loudly.

"Mingyu," you said carefully, a wide grin appearing on Mingyu's face.

"That's better than Mr. Kim," Mingyu remarked, savoring the shift in familiarity between you two.

Once you two arrived at his place, Mingyu immediately offered any assistance as you settled onto the couch. He took the time to give you a brief tour of his clean and organized house, explaining the available guest room for you.

"You could put your stuff and clothes here," he suggested, pointing to a section in his closet connected to his home office.

As you settled in, Mingyu inquired about cooking, to which you nodded hesitantly, not wanting to impose on him further. Surprisingly, he suggested, "Me too. But we're out of ingredients. Do you mind going to the grocery store tomorrow?"

"Sure," you agreed, appreciating his willingness to share responsibilities.

Mingyu bit his lip, hesitating before revealing a shelf in his kitchen stocked with pregnancy products—from formula to vitamins and snacks. "I asked my secretary to have this ready for you... just in case you need them," he explained.

Looking at the products, you shifted your gaze to Mingyu and whispered, "Thanks." His hand reached for yours on the kitchen island, intertwining fingers. "Just want the best for the baby," he mumbled, his genuine concern evident.

Watching your hands together, you found a sense of security around Mingyu. The revelation escaped your lips, "Our baby." The words surprised both of you, Mingyu's eyes meeting yours at the unexpected declaration.

"O-our? Yeah, our baby," Mingyu stammered, taken aback by your words. The truth revealed in that moment opened a new chapter, catching both of you off guard but bringing a genuine connection to the forefront.

In the warm glow of Mingyu's living room, a vulnerable question hung in the air. "Are you accepting my feelings, Y/n?" Mingyu courageously asked, his heart brimming with emotions that he struggled to put into words. Happiness? Love? Tonight had certainly stirred something profound within him.

Rather than answering immediately, you took a slow and hesitant step towards him. With arms outstretched, you embraced his torso, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "Please take care of me." Mingyu's chest tightened with the rapid beating of his heart, mirroring your vulnerability. His hands mirrored yours, enveloping your body in a reassuring embrace.

"Let's stay like this for a moment, okay?" Mingyu whispered, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy, where unspoken emotions lingered in the air.

In that tender moment, Mingyu's soothing words broke the silence, "You're doing great, Y/n... You're doing so well." The sincerity in his compliment was palpable, marking the first time you felt a genuine acknowledgment of your efforts and emotions. The atmosphere shifted into one of mutual understanding and acceptance, as the connection between you two deepened in the stillness of the room.

*

The weight of suffocating thoughts pulled you from your sleep, haunted by the lingering fear of a repeat incident since the last apartment fire. Midnight's dimness cast a soft glow as you rose from your bed, craving solace in a sip of water. A leak of light drew your attention to Mingyu's home office – was he still working?

The desire for something more than water surfaced, remembering the provisions Mingyu had prepared. As you opened the shelf, searching for a glass, a realization struck – there were none in sight. An unexpected arm reaching for a higher shelf startled you.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu said, aware of his sudden movement. He handed you a glass, taking a step back as you proceeded to make yourself a comforting glass of milk.

"You're still working at this hour?" you asked Mingyu, breaking the silence that lingered in the dimly lit room.

Mingyu shrugged, "Just finishing some paperwork," he explained.

Turning towards him, you offered, "Need help?" anticipating the weight of late-night tasks.

Mingyu chuckled, "I appreciate it, but no thanks. I couldn't pay you overtime." He joked, acknowledging the unconventional hour – 2 in the morning.

Laughing softly, you reassured him, "Seungcheol pays me enough. Just take it as a rent payment."

Mingyu shook his head, refusing the suggestion, "I should ask for those rent payments for something else."

Curious, you asked, "What do you mean?" with a chuckle.

Mingyu playfully suggested, "Maybe a kiss? Or..." leaving the sentence open-ended.

Rolling your eyes, you responded, "Shut up," as you finished making your milk and settled onto the counter.

Mingyu followed you to the counter, his arms unconsciously creating a barricade as he stood beside you. "How's your everyday life look like?" he asked, breaking the quietude of the night.

Sipping on your milk, you shared, "It's pretty basic. Waking up, having breakfast that I prepared the night before. I walk to the bus station, grab breakfast and coffee for Seungcheol on the way to the office. After work, if I'm too tired, I'll take a cab. Sometimes, Mr. Won drives me home too."

"Sometimes I think about learning to drive, but I'm just too afraid," you admitted.

Mingyu nodded, his mind drifting to a shocking news from 15 years ago. "My father died in a car accident," you revealed, watching his face as you shared such a deeply personal and traumatic piece of information. "I was with him, in the car." The weight of the revelation lingered, creating an unspoken connection between you and Mingyu in the quiet of the night.

Mingyu let out a heavy breath slowly. His arms raised to embrace you, "I'm glad you're safe," he said, tightening the hug. In that quiet moment, the weight of past fears and unspoken pain became a bridge, connecting you and Mingyu in the comfort of the present.

*

Dear diary,

Today marks the beginning of my second year of Senior High School. I'm grateful that Minseo and I are in the same class again this year. I don't know how I would survive high school without Minseo. Although I've befriended everyone, Minseo has been a pillar of support for me since the last time 'she' taunted me.

Minseo confided in me that she likes Taehyung, a boy who sits in front of her and enjoys listening to music with headphones. She mentioned they will have a group project after school, and if Taehyung doesn't ask her out, she plans to make the first move. Minseo asked me if there's anyone I'm interested in within our class or even in the entire school. She seemed surprised when I said no. How could someone not liking anyone yet be considered weird? Perhaps it's because my standards are as high as my father's. Speaking of my father, he's the greatest man I've ever known. However, I couldn't just reveal to Minseo that my father was the President of JIS Corp, could I?

I miss my father.

**

Dear diary,

Today, after visiting my therapist, she prescribed me sleeping pills in case nightmares return. Meanwhile, Minseo informed me that she dropped out of her business major in college, and she seems genuinely happy about it. I'm relieved she's finally able to choose her own path. I wonder if her parents reacted as negatively as mine did.

When was the last time I saw 'her'? Perhaps a year ago, at my father's memorial. She questioned my presence there, as if I weren't part of the family. I chose not to engage with her, following my therapist's advice: block those who hurt you and prevent you from loving yourself.

What is love anyway? I've forgotten its meaning since 'she' did what she did. I wonder if I'll ever experience love again. It's difficult to develop an interest in anyone.

Continue to part 2

[tokkiwrites]

┈─ 𖧷 Dirty Diana 🍷⏜ ◌

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you want to surprise your dad with his favorite band tickets. you're really lucky when you stumble upon the lead guitarist, Joel Miller, at your local grocery store. things escalate- but you do get those tickets.

★ ͘rockstar!joel miller, fem!reader, dom joel, sub reader, afab reader, p in v sex unprotected, rough joel, age gap, dumbification of reader, hair pulling, slapping, head m and f receiving, creampie, kind of size kink if u tilt your head, joel has tattoos and a piercings (yummy), sir kink, almost pet play, lots of pet names. drinking, mentions of cheating. lmk if i missed any!!!! (pic in the banner doesn't describe readers body!! there for the aesthetics) not proofread

you've never been a rock fan. sure, you'd enjoy listening to the songs your dad played on your 3 hour long car rides, the ones he always sets as his ring-tone...

but you were in a dilemma nowㅡ there's a giveaway of sorts with tickets to your dad's most favorite band from the early 90's, and to even have a chance at those tickets you need to submit a video of yourself singing one of their songs.

now you would ask your dad, but the first thing that made you this set on getting those tickets was surprising him with them on his upcoming birthday. you'd buy them, but they're either sold out or 200 bucks on shady sitesㅡ and you're a broke college student on winter break.

you sigh, closing your laptop and throwing it on the other side of the bed. you stare up at the ceiling, counting the little neon stars you've had there since you were 10. they always calmed youㅡ made your brain less foggy, even for just a few seconds.

groaning, you throw your legs around, frustrated and disappointed in yourself. this would've really made his worries slip away, for a bit, after what happened with your mom. you still can't wrap your head around why your mom chose her exceeding in nothing, 2 palms of receding hairline co-worker. i mean, he was richㅡ super fucking rich, but was it worth it? your dad didn't deserve it.

you wipe the tears you've just now realized were dripping down your face. "i need something to drink." sniffling, you put on your plush jacket, get some slippers , and spray on some perfume. "at least need to smell presentable if i look likeㅡ" you stare into the mirror, laughing to yourself, "that."

you stroll out of your house and down the street. you were lucky for the grocery store just about 7 minutes away, give or take. it wasn't that small but it wasn't big either, at least not big enough so that you learned form a young age where all of your favorite iles were.

"Hi, Miss Sammy!" you greet the cashier, an old friend of the family and sort of an aunt to youㅡ you remember when she'd let you stay after school in the back of the store up until 5 pm, when your dad came to pick you up. "Hi, honey! How's winter break treating you?"

"Rough day?" you jump, taking one step back before you turn around to see who it was.

"'s fine... I'm glad to be back home with dad." you smile and her gaze softened. "Well if you ever need anythin', you let me know sugar, mkay?" you nod, walking to the furthest part of the store, where all of the drinks were. you look around, trying to find the cheapest thing that can get you dizzy the fastest. really deep in your mind you failed to notice someone coming up to your side, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, you could say thaㅡ wait." you pause. holy shit. you couldn't believe your eyes. "I know you! You're thㅡ" he presses his fingers agains your lips, and oh, it sends a shiver down your back. "quiet down, darlin'."

you nod, whispers-yelling, "You're Joel Miller, right?" he sighs, smiling at your question, and your eyes light up. this is perfect, so, so perfect. "My dad loves you guysㅡ you and your band."

"that so?" your arms flare up, smiling so big. "you've no idea! 's why i was so excited to hear about you coming to town. Wanted to surprise him."

"wanted?" Joel quirks his eyebrows up, his voice dropping an octave. "Yeah, well, i found out pretty late about it and - well, tickets, they're super expensive now, as you'd imagine.." You sigh, turning back to look at the bottles catching the white light of the room. "jus' wanted to give him something to be happy about, you know?" You reach out to grab a 16$ bottle of wine you know is too sweet, but it'll do. trying to lift the mood, you try your hand at a joke. "guess my only option is to fuck somebody who has those tickets." you look at him and his brows are furrowed. stupid, stupid, stupid joke, stupid you.

"so-rry, didn't mean toㅡ"

"that so, pretty girl?" Those words go straight to your core, causing you to nip at your bottom lip, stiff like a stone. "Now, you can't just say somethin' like thatㅡ" Joel leans in closer "'n not answer me."

you look up at him, and you finally get a better look. there aren't many pictures of him close up on the internet, mostly grainy ones where you can barely make out his tattoos. you gulp, eyes traveling across his face: a brow piercing, a full beard with patches of gray, a neck tattoo with a ravenㅡ he looked surreal.

"y'gonna answer me, angel-face? or do i need to pull out those words myself?" god, you were practically dripping on the linoleum of the store, cheeks ablaze and words tangled in your throat.

"I'm ㅡ" he traces his inked fingers across the exposed part of your neck, chuckling at your demeanor. "I live 5 minutes away." you blurt out, causing his eyes to widen. "maybeㅡ come over?" god, what were you doing? you sure hope not to regret your words later. but right now, two things you knew for certain: you were way too turned on, and he was way too hot for his age.

Joel smirks, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Well, darlin', seems like fate's on your side today." He grabs the bottle of wine you were holding, examining it. "I ain't lettin' you drink that, girl." he scoffs, picking up a bottle of Giulio Ferrari from 1992, not even looking at the price. "Let me spoil you a bit, yeah." you can't even say a word, you pathetically whine, as your knees wobble like jelly.

Joel puts the hoodie over his head and looks down at you, his firey stare making your cheeks burn up all over again. "y'know the lady?" he asks, motioning his head towards Sammy who was busy playing Rummy on her phone. "I do, old familyㅡ well, like family." He nods, patting your shoulder, "you go ahead, wait f'me in front of the store by that coffee machine. I'mma pay real quick, yeah?" you nod so fast, way too excited with those butterflies tying knots in your stomach, you head to the door.

"Bye, Miss Sammy!" you wave, and she just hums and gives half of a wave back "buh-bye, sugar." too fixed on her phone. As Joel pays for the bottle of wine, he glances back at you exiting the store.

"Lead the way, darlin'. Let's see if we can work something out." and oh, the way those words make you drip in anticipation. the way you were so eager to have his hands all over your body- those tickets were the last thing on your mind right now. You both head towards your house, the cold air adding a sense of urgency to the situation. You couldn't believe how needy he made you with just a few words. Small talk fills the short journey, with Joel sharing stories from the road and you nervously responding.

Once inside your home, Joel looks around appreciatively. "Cozy place you got here." you nod, leading him to the kitchen. "your daddy home?"

"no.." you fumble your steps as you hurriedly put two glasses on the counter for Joel to fill up with wine. Joel smirks, sensing the tension in the air. "Just us, then," he says, pouring the wine into the glasses. The rich aroma of the aged wine fills the room as he hands you a glass. "Cheers to unexpected encounters," he toasts, clinking glasses with you. The wine is exquisite, but the real intoxication is the electrifying presence of Joel. Tattoos adorned his body, his fluffy hair laid perfectly, strands of gray standing out; the way his muscles bulged through his shirtㅡ you could see it all better now.

"feels like you're about to eat me, baby. way you're starin' me down." joel chuckles. "sorry I'mㅡ sorry." you nervously sip from you glass trying to put out the fire in your core, his voice making it ten times harder for you. "now, how you gonna get what you want if you get so shy on me, hm?"

joel steps closer to you, and your chest burns, heaving up and down as his arms snake around your waist and settle onto your tummy. "ain't you a big girl? thought you were- how you so eagerly invited a stranger ㅡsuch an old man into your home when your daddy ain't around." he rubs through you, a squeaky whimper slipping past your lips as you felt his bulge against you. "oh, she likes that, don't she?" you breathe out "god.."

"please..." you plead, palms now on top of his as you slowly turn your head to expose your neck further. "please what, babygirl?"

"not god, baby..jus' me." he chuckles murkily.

"please, sir..t-touch me." you back your body further, prompting joel to groan and tighten his grasp on you. "jesus, girl." he laughs "dirty little thing." his rough hands make their way under your lace trimmed long-sleeve, grasping at you breasts.

"no bra, baby?" he asks, swirling his thumbs across your sprung up nipples, and you moan a quiet 'no'. "what if your daddy walks through that door right now, huh?"

"dont care..." you lean more into his touch, intoxicated from it and his scent, a hint of smoky wood, and a touch of muskㅡ he smelled delicious. you couldn't wait to have him on your tongue.

"'course you don't. needy little whore wants an old man to fuck her senselessㅡ need me to fill ya up with this cock til you're dumb and can't think no more." you moan, so eagerly shaking your head as you press your ass onto his hard-on, getting joel to wrap his thick fingers around your throat and spin you around to face him. "not so fast, girl. wanna see ya beg, can you do that f'me angel?" his graps grow rougher, and you mewl out a string of yes, yes, yes, whilst dropping to your knees, as he instructs

"eyes up, babyㅡ there she is." joel strokes your face before delivering a harsh slap onto your already red cheek. moaning, you rub your thighs together as to evade just a bit of pressure in your cunt. "pretty little slut. so pretty like this." he growls, taking a handful of your hair "go on now. beg. tell sir how bad you need his cock."

and you do. you beg and plead, press your face against his thigh like a little puppy. you don't take you eyes off of his, prompting yourself with his boot under your clothed cunt. "please, sir.. v'been so good..." and you start moving slowly, cheek now flush against his crotch. you moan and rut against him, heat washing over your whole body. you wanted to make him proud, you dont know what came over youㅡ you were so drunken and you didn't know if it was because of the wine or because of joel.

the way he stared down at you, his pupils almost like an eclipse to his hazel eyes, lips half hidden behind his mustache. The way his piercing gaze holds yours, unwavering and commanding; he was rough and enticing, mean in just the right wayㅡ his voice dripped like honey and you couldn't hold but lick it up and let it poison you through and through.

"atta girl." you looked so vulnerable. so innocent. so raw and ready for him to taint and infect you with his all. he unbuckled his pants, leaving them a bit open at the top, perfectly for you to see the strain his thick cock put onto his briefs. "c'mon. don't make me wait, baby..." you didn't need to hear more, eagerly pulling out his erect length, letting it slap onto his clothed belly. you could drool at the sight, all though you're pretty sure you already were. he was bigㅡ huge even, the biggest you've ever seen. it was girthy and had veins running down it, tip red, dripping with precum. "too b-big-" you manage to let out. "you'll make it fit, puppy. for me, yeah? c'mon, let me fuck that pretty mouth." and you softly reply with 'yes, sir' before he yanks at your hair and directs his dick right between your lips. "open. widee openㅡ there you go." he encourages you as you try your best to fit that monster into your mouth. it hurts and your chin stings as joel slowly stars to thrust his length into you mouth- or at list what fits of it.

"pretty slut. look so good with her mouth full of cock." joel hums as you whine around him. "like this cock, baby?" he knows you can't answer, mouth too full and brain to fuzzy. "so cock stupid, can't even speak." he laughs. you've never felt like this, god, not even imagined something like this. yet there you were with someone who's twice your age fucking your mouth. "what would your daddy say?" you whine and squeeze around nothing, nails digging into the back of his knees. joel can only laugh as he puls out, rubbing his tip over your lips to collect the drool that mixed with his precum, and smear it all over your rosy cheeks.

you felt so dirty. but it felt rightㅡ for a good cause, right?

he slaps your face with his length before pulling you up by your hair, bending you over the kitchen counter. "gonna let me fuck you, babygirl?"

"yes-" you wriggle into his hold. "yes, what?" hes prying "yes, sir." you obediently reply. "good fuckin' pup." he doesn't even haltㅡ joel pulls down your pants at once with your panties. he delivers a harsh slap before trailing his digits right between your legs. "poor lil' cunt. look at 'er." he coos. "crying for this cock."

"please, sirㅡ mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy bitch. you take what i give you, understand?"

"y-yes, sir, pleaseㅡ" he clicks his tongue before kneeling, spreading your pussy lips as he does, leaning in and blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up. "want you to come 'round my cock. want you to come while i stuff you up nice 'n good." you nod, not even half sure what you heard, you were too dizzy and the sudden lack of stimulation drove you mad.

joel positions himself behind you, lifting your leg up so one of your knees rests onto the counter. he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, wanting to pull more from you, to get you even needful. you couldn't barely muster to hold yourself up, letting all of your weight on Joel, deprived pleads rolling of your tongue.

when he's content with the teasing, he starts to ease into you. it's like you're awakened from a trance, fully aware of everything, and every fiber of your body. it all vibrates as a sting spreads through your body, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckkㅡ so fuckin' tight, baby- I'd think were a virgin if i didn't know what a cock slut you actually are." he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby"

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your leg up and one pressing you face flush on the cold surface of the counter. "like that? like it when an old man has his way with ya, huh?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and spine arched as he plummets into your cunt. "fucked you stupid, huh? dirty girl." joel snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly. "feel." and, fuck, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis; you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his arms and hold you by your shoulders, hit after hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy. "wanna come, pup? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come.

"come then, make me proud, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost at once. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth as he leaves bruises onto you, you wish would never go away.

"need'a come babyㅡ shit! where, tell me where baby." you feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up. you usually don't say this. "in-side- inside, sir, please.." you beg, and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed into you, causing you to lick your lips as if you could taste it. Joel holds himself over you, panting as he trails soft kisses onto your back. "did so good, babygirl." you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his.

"soㅡ" he makes a pause. "you still want those tickets?"

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hoohououiuoooio hi guys im kind of pretty obsessed with joel rn so i gotta quench my thirst. this has 3.1k words. hope u like it!! muahhhh thank u again for 150!!!! if u see any grammatical errors no u didn't.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

ok, sorry abt my last request i’ll be more specific

can you do ethan landry is best friends with readers brother? and they annoy eachother a lot?

and it ends it a smut pls :3

love your work sm!!

Hiiii! I hope you like it :)

Bad Idea Right? - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT- Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: You hook up with your brother's irritating best friend.

A/N: If y'all want a part 2, let me know:)

You and your brother have a good sibling relationship, which you’re thankful for. The only issue you have is that his best friend, Ethan, is so incredibly annoying. They’ve been friends for the longest time, and they do everything together. When they both got into the same school, you weren’t surprised.

Ethan’s sort of became a part of the family. Your parents buy him Christmas presents; he comes on all the family vacations. It wasn’t a shocker when your brother wanted to come home to visit you for your birthday, that Ethan would be coming with him.

You’re the only one in your family that isn’t really close to him, which does feel weird from time to time. You’ll never forget the beach vacation when he chased you along the sand with a washed-up jellyfish, or when he was teasing you when you got your first crush, or when he went through a prank phase, and you were his target every single time.

As both boys arrived home to celebrate your birthday, you were excited to see them. Even though Ethan does annoy you, it’s been months since you’d seen them.

Your brother pulled you into a big hug as Ethan walked past you to say hello to your parents.

“Happy Birthday!” your brother said, you rolled your eyes.

“It was a month ago, dork,” you said, a playful tone in your voice.

“Sorry I couldn’t come home sooner. One of my classes this year has been brutal,” he said, as you nodded.

“Hi, Ethan!” you said sarcastically, as the curly-haired boy rolled his eyes when he faced you.

He looked like he was about to say something back, but he paused as he took in your appearance. You started to feel a little self-conscious, thinking you must’ve had a stain on your shirt or something, because he’s never looked at you like that. He’s usually just as annoyed with you as you are with him.

The next day, your brother told you he was throwing you a surprise birthday party.

“It’s not a surprise if you tell me, you know?” you said, “Plus it’s been a month. Why have a party now?”

“Because you only turn eighteen once,” he said, “And we always celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay, when is this surprise party for me, that I already know about?” you said with a giggle.

“That’s the part that’s surprising. It’s in 2 hours, you might want to get ready,” He laughed a little, looking at the sweatpants and big t-shirt you were wearing.

“Fuuuuck,” you whined, walking to the bathroom to jump in the shower.

After you got out of the shower, you stood on the mat reaching for your towel when the door opened.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, closing the door.

“Fuck,” you whispered, wrapping the towel around your body.

You’d gotten used to having your own bathroom while your brother was away, so you didn’t even think to lock the door. You started to get a little embarrassed, now that your brother’s best friend has seen you naked.

Once you dried off and put your robe on, you walked to your room to change.

As Ethan watched you walk out of the bathroom from your brother’s room across the hall, he couldn’t get the image of your naked, wet body out of his mind. ‘Why the fuck am I thinking about her like this?’ he thought to himself, his cock half-hard in his pants.

“I’m going to go get the cake. You want to set out the drinks and stuff?” your brother asked Ethan.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I can do that,” he said, even though the idea of him being left alone with you made him a little nervous.

“Cool, I’ll be back soon,” he said, grabbing his keys.

After you got dressed, you walked to the kitchen to get something to drink. Ethan was putting chips in bowls at the counter as you struggled to reach around him to get a glass. You brushed up against him, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

You got some water before sitting down at the kitchen table. You wanted to say something to him about the bathroom incident, but you were scared to make the situation even more awkward. As you sat there, you just had to say something.

“Hey, Ethan?” you said. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m sorry I forgot to lock the door. I know seeing me naked was probably the last thing you wanted.”

You watched him, waiting for a response. His face started to turn red, as you giggled to yourself.

“It’s..uh…it’s okay,” he said, directing his attention back to the chips.

While he was turning back around and you saw him from the side for a split second, you could see that he was hard in the sweatpants he was wearing. Your eyes went wide and you started to blush as you realized the effect you had on him.

“I’m going to go change,” he said, before walking out of the kitchen and to your brother’s room.

After your brother got back and all your friends started to arrive, Ethan was struggling to take his eyes off you. You noticed his gaze as you danced with your friends to the music, a smirk playing on your lips when he quickly looked away. You thought he was hot, but he annoyed you so much that you never realized it until recently.

You kept noticing his stares as the party went on, so when it was time for the cake, you decided to tease him a little bit. You swiped your finger through the icing, before putting the icing in your mouth. Your eyes connected with Ethan as you sucked it off, his bottom lip going in between his teeth at your actions.

After the cake, you went to the kitchen to get another drink. Ethan was leaning against the counter by himself as your brother shamelessly flirted with one of your friends in the living room.

“Hey, you might piss me off, but thank you for being here,” your voice was sweet as you spoke to him.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, watching you sip your drink.

“What’s up?” you asked. He leaned closer to your ear so no one else could hear what he was saying to you.

“Are you intentionally trying to make me hard out there in front of everybody?” he asked, as his eyes scanned over your face. “I know you like to do things that embarrass me, so if you aren’t interested, please stop.”

You smiled at him, thinking back to all the things you’d done that were probably just as annoying as the stuff he’s done to you. But this was intentional. You wanted him to want you, and it’s obvious now that he does.

“Meet me in my room in five minutes,” you said, before walking away.

You scanned the living room to find your brother, still distracted from everything going on around him. You found your best friend, pulling her to the side.

“Hey, I’m going to disappear for a little bit. If anyone’s looking for me, tell them I’ll be right back, and text me immediately, okay?” you asked. The confused look on her face said you needed to explain more. “I’m about to hook up with Ethan. My brother can’t know, cover for me.”

She nodded, still confused at the situation.

You went up the stairs to your room to wait for Ethan. Your friend smirked to herself as she watched him scan the party for your brother, before heading upstairs not long after you.

“Lock it,” you said, as he walked in and shut the door.

“So demanding,” he laughed, as he locked the door.

You walked over to him and laced his fingers with yours as you led him back to your bed, pulling him down with you as you laid back. He looked in your eyes for a few seconds as he hovered over you, the sexual tension getting even stronger before he finally leaned down to kiss you. The second your lips touched, everything just felt right. Like this was what the two of you were supposed to be doing the whole time.

His hands started to roam under the fabric of your shirt, his fingertips grazed your stomach as you whimpered under his touch. As good as his teasing felt, you remembered that you didn’t have a lot of time to do what you came to your room to do.

“We need to be quick,” you gasped out, once his hand reached your breast.

"Right," he chucked to himself, before he slid your shirt up your body. You sat up a little so he could pull it over your head, and you reached behind yourself to unhook your bra to have one less thing in the way. “Fuck,” he whispered, taking in the sight in front of him.

He leaned forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he sucked before moving to the other side. Your breathing was getting heavier by the second, and feeling the way his tongue moved had you craving his mouth on you in other places.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, before he stopped at the top of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking for your consent before he went any further. You nodded at him before he smirked and unbuttoned your jeans, and slid those, along with your panties, down your legs in one motion. You took a deep breath once you were fully exposed to him, before he leaned in and started to place gentle licks to your clit.

"Fuck," you whispered, as you looked down to see Ethan's eyes on yours.

He started to swirl his tongue as he slid two fingers inside your soaked entrance with ease, your hips lifting off the bed as he rolled them against that spongy spot inside of you. You were trying so hard to be quiet, and even with the music downstairs, you were sure that if someone came upstairs, they'd know exactly what was going on. Strained whimpers were flooding out of your mouth as you struggled to hold them in, but Ethan was making you feel so good that it was impossible.

"Shit, Ethan," you rushed out, "This feels so good, but I need you to fuck me."

He pulled his mouth away from your clit before he mumbled "I wish I had more time to do this with you." He slid his fingers out, a whine slipping past your lips at the lost feeling as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid those, along with his boxers, down his hips.

"We need to be quick," you reminded him, once you felt the tip of his cock teasingly circling your clit.

"I know," he said, as he lined up with your entrance.

As he slid into you, a low moan flew out of your mouth.

“Shhh,” he said, his hips starting to move. “You need to be quiet, baby.”

You found it hard to do, the feeling of his cock stretching out your pussy feeling so good that you wanted him to know how much you loved it.

“Fuck,” you said, once you heard your phone vibrate on the bed beside you. Ethan kept going as you reached over to check it. “We need to hurry up. My brother was asking where I am.”

His thrusts sped up, until he started to pound into you. He angled your hips just right so your g-spot was getting the attention that it needed, and you couldn't hold in your moans. Once he reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, you cried out as that feeling built up so fast that your impending orgasm had your hands shaking as you gripped the sheets.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me."

Your legs were shaking on either side of his hips as that feeling washed over you, your bottom lip held in between your teeth so hard to attempt to not make the loud sounds that were threatening to escape. He was trying so hard to fuck you through it, but after he felt your pussy start to squeeze him, he knew he couldn't hold on any longer.

“Fuck,” he gasped, as he pulled out, releasing his hot cum on your stomach.

He took a minute to catch his breath as he tried to compose himself, but he couldn't stop looking at you. The way your blissed out eyes looked at him, the sweet smile on your lips, and seeing his cum on you was starting to make him hard again.

He finally tore his eyes away from you to grab some tissues out of the box on your nightstand, and cleaned you up before you both got up to quickly put your clothes back on. You could tell that he wanted to talk about what'd just happened, you did, too. But with the lack of time, you knew it would have to wait.

“I wish I could’ve taken my time with you,” he said, before you walked over to the door.

“There’s always next time,” you said, planting a kiss to his cheek.

You left your room first to join the party again. Your best friend came up to you once she saw you.

“So, how was it?” she asked.

“For a nerd, he sure knows what he’s doing,” you quietly joked, as he walked down the stairs.

“Dude, where were you?” your brother asked him, a blush rising to his cheeks at the question.

“Uh..I had to call my dad,” he lied, as your brother nodded at his response.

“Cool. I couldn’t find my sister either. I thought you two killed each other.”

[fiapartridge]

Part 2 to cruel summer pls

cruel summer pt. 2 | jack hughes

"i snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate..."

jack hughes x fem!reader

read part one!!: cruel summer

summary: you and jack have spent the entire summer keeping your relationship a secret, but when a party and feelings of doubt gets thrown into the mix, things get a little hectic...

warning(s): swearing, some angst, happy ending

author's note: omg i procrastinated so much, but here ya go

You were in an intense game of chicken with Luke, Duker, and Eddy when Jack walked back to the house to grab you a towel, using it as an excuse to wrap you in his arms after your game in the pool. On his way in, he noticed his mom sitting on one of the couches on the back patio, waving him over. 

“My boy. You get more handsome with each second,” she beamed, patting the empty space next to her on the couch.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jack obliged, sitting next to Ellen, though he seemed worlds away. His eyes always drifting towards the girl of the hour, of the year, hell, of his life.

“Look how beautiful she’s gotten.”

He absentmindedly nodded. “Yeah, I can see.” He knew she was talking about you without even saying your name, because whenever Jack was there, your name wasn’t so far behind. “Have you ever hid something?” he asked. “Something really important and you want to tell people, but you’re just… scared, I guess? Of their reactions.”

Ellen smiled softly. She always had a feeling that there was something going on between the two of you, even before you guys moved to New Jersey. There was always something lingering— some sort of electricity, longing. 

“Well, if the people around you love you, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she matched his gaze, connecting it to you. She was glad it was you; she couldn’t picture him with anyone else. “And let me tell you this,” she smiled, running her hand through his hair. “Everyone here loves you. Get some weight off your chest. Tell them.”

*ೃ༄

“Your mom just bombarded me with a charity gala invite,” you scoffed, cracking open a beer from the fridge and leaning your back against the counter across from Jack. 

“They’re still doing those events?”

“Charity don’t stop, Hughesy.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, of course you did,” you smirked. “I am now telling everyone that you hate charities. Jack The Charity Hater.”

He scrunched his nose, shaking his head. “Not a catchy name,” he said, walking closer to you until his hands rested comfortably against your hips. 

“I guess I’ll just have to think of a better one,” you kissed his lips quickly, your eyes automatically swimming over to the entrance of the kitchen, making sure no one was there to witness it. It’s not like you didn’t want them to know, you did, you really did, but you didn’t know if Jack was ready. All of his relationships were with girls that he met on some random day in his life that have absolutely zero connection with his family. You? You were the total opposite. Luke was your best friend, Ellen was like your second mom, Quinn was your favorite person to talk shit about people with, and Jim bought you a BBQ grill for your birthday just so you guys could be grill buddies. 

To say that you had a connection with his family would be an understatement. They were your family, too. And you didn’t want to lose that.

“What’s the theme this year?” 

“Masquerade,” you responded, moving your hands to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Very original,” he smirked. “You going with anybody?”

You rolled your eyes, somehow bringing yourself closer to him, your lips ghosting over his. “I was hoping to go with my boyfriend, but we haven’t exactly made things official.”

Jack sighed, backing away from you. He scratched the back of his neck, the air turning between you turning cold. “Hey, about that… I just think—”

You bit your lip, looking everywhere except Jack. “No, I, uh,” you shook your head, stammering. “I get it.”

“Y/N,” he held onto your arm, trying not to let you go, but as Cole stumbled into the kitchen in search of a couple more beers for the boys, he had to let go— even if it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I’ll see you at the party,” you said. With a bittersweet smile, you turned away, wondering if this was still what you wanted, and if you still had the motivation to keep it going.

*ೃ༄

By nighttime, the party was in full swing. Every corner of the ballroom was crowded with high-end outfits and conversations about what new car they bought, or how they just came back from a trip to Europe, or Asia. 

As for you, you sat at a table by the wall, enviously watching couples slow dance, wishing that it were you and Jack. Your mother and Ellen were a few seats away, engaged in gossip about neighborhood drama, Jack sat next to you, pretending not to stare when you glanced in his direction, and the rest of the boys were nowhere to be seen.

“Y/N,” Jack said, bringing you back to reality. “Earlier today, I—”

“Hey, Hughesy,” Trevor suddenly appeared at the table, a girl strapped to each of his arms. “Meet Gina and Teresa. Apparently they’ve been coming here every summer since they were born, just like you two.”

Jack smiled. “That’s great, Trev, but—”

“They’re single,” Trevor interrupted. “Come on, man, get off your ass and let’s go,” he said, pulling Jack away from the table; from you.

“I can’t, Trev,” Jack shook his head, trying to get back to you. 

“Why not?” Trevor whined. “We have two girls that actually want to dance with us, like we don’t have to convince them, or beg, or anything!”

Jack sighed. The only girl he wanted to be with was you. “I just can’t, Trev.”

“But why?”

As you watched them talk on the dancefloor, you realized that you couldn’t do this any longer: the secrecy, the lying, the kissing in closed spaces. You couldn’t do it anymore, and if Jack wasn’t trying to make an effort, why should you?

You downed your drink in one gulp, grabbed your purse, and made your way to the grand stairs in search of the nearest exit to get you far, far away from this stupid event on this stupid night with your stupid boyfriend that no one even knew about, so you couldn’t even tell anyone even if you tried!

All you felt was alone.

“Because,” Jack shook his head, his gaze finally settling on you— the girl who was fleeing the party like it was infested with the color orange (you told Jack that that color gave you the ‘heebie jeebies’ the first night you slept over at his apartment. Something about your childhood and a party at Chuck E. Cheese, don’t ask about it). “Because… I’m in love with Y/N and she’s leaving,” he mindlessly said, pulling away from Trevor’s grasp and running after you. 

He pushed through people on the dancefloor, knocked over a couple of waiters, holding hors d'oeuvres and glasses of wine, jumped over abandoned masquerade masks scattered over the glossy floor, and it was still not enough to get to you. Jack cursed the weekends you guys spent in New Jersey doing 10-mile runs in which you always made it home before him. 

Walking up the steps to the lake house, Jack didn’t even know what to say to you. He wanted to tell everyone about you and your relationship, but was he ready for that? I mean, what would his parents say? What would your parents say? His brothers? His friends? Everything would change between everyone if they found out. Was it worth it?

Were you worth it?

Shaking his head, he knocked on the door. It was his family’s home, but you were written over every space on the lot. The place was as much yours as it was theirs, would all of that be ruined if the truth were to come out?

The questions were stupid and the answers were obvious. Jack knew the answers the whole time. Hell, he knew them from the moment you told him you were moving to New Jersey. Of course you were worth it. You were worth the world. You were the world. 

It only took a couple of seconds before the door opened, revealing you in pajamas and duck slippers that your dad got you when you were 13 years old. They made ‘quack’ sounds every step you took, and you told your dad that you were too old for gifts like this, but on nights like these, it felt comforting for you. It made you feel safe.

And even though you were clad in duck slippers and embarrassing pajamas, Jack still looked at you as if you were the belle of the ball. He couldn’t help it. You were everything to the boy.

“What are you doing here, Hughes?” you spat, not wanting to look at him while simultaneously wanting to wrap your arms around him and ask him what took him so long. 

He shrugged, hands in his pockets, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I live here, too."

"I mean, why are you here instead of dancing with... what are their names? Tina and Marissa?" 

“Gina and Teresa,” he corrected. You scoffed, attempting to close the door on him but, him being a hockey player and all, he was able to hold it open for a lot longer than you could manage to close it. “I didn’t have enough time to compliment your dress at the party.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you think you can fix this with flattery, you’ll be sorely mistaken.”

“That’s— that’s not what I was trying to do.”

"So what are you trying to do because, frankly, you're just wasting my time, Hughes—" Before you could finish your sentence, Jack interrupted with a sudden, unexpected kiss. Time stood still as his lips met yours, and suddenly, you forgot about the girls, and the secrecy, and your families. The only thing that remained clear was this: you and Jack were meant to be together— secretly, or not. 

Pulling back, Jack’s eyes locked with yours, sincere evident in his nervous voice. “I know that I was scared before, but Y/N, I want everyone to know that I’m in love with you— and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me from loving you any less, like it’s physically impossible,” he chuckled. “I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you since we were eight years old, it’s always been you… It’s never not been you, Y/N.”

“It’s always been you, too, Hughesy,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. Before you could envelope him in another kiss, a round of cheers erupted behind you guys— in the driveway, specifically. 

“About time you guys finally said something, thought we were gonna have to force it out of you guys,” Eddy laughed, Duker and Turcs joining in with him. 

To say you and Jack were confused was quite the understatement. 

“You guys knew?” you asked, hiding behind Jack’s shoulder. 

“What, do you think we’re stupid?” Trevor asked, a grin dancing across his lips. “It took two girls and a party for you to finally admit it, but God, it feels good.”

“So it was a set up,” Jack added.

“Well,” Cole squinted. “More of a… push.”

“Exactly, a push,” Luke grinned. He walked up the patio stairs and slung his arms over both of your shoulders. “So, when am I calling you Y/N Hughes?”

Laughing, you and Jack playfully pushed Luke off of you. With everyone in tow, you walked back inside the lake house, the sound of chatter filling the air. Grinning, you told the group about the time Jack tripped over a rock while attempting to ask you out. It felt nice that the secret was finally out in the open.

The world finally knew how much you loved Jack Hughes, and how much he loved you. Maybe it wasn’t so much of a cruel summer after all.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring. Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park. Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.

Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."

“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.

“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”

“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.

He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.

“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”

“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”

“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"

“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”

Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."

“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."

He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.

"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.

Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”

"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."

“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.

"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.

“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.

"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.

“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”

"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."

“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”

"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.

The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.

There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.

The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.

Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.

“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.

“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”

“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”

Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”

“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.

“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”

“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.

“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.

“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”

Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.

It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”

“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”

“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.

“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”

Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.

When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”

"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."

“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”

"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."

Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”

"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.

“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”

Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."

“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”

"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."

“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”

"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.

Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”

"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."

There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”

“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”

“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”

You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.

The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”

The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."

“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”

"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."

“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”

"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.

“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”

The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.

“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”

For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.

Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.

A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.

“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.

"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."

"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."

Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”

"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."

"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."

She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”

"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."

“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”

"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."

Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.

"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."

“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.

"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.

Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.

"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."

“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.

"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."

“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”

Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”

“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.

That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.

“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”

“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”

“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”

“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.

Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.

“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”

"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."

Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”

"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."

“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”

"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."

“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”

"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.

The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”

"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."

“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”

"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."

“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.

"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."

Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”

“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”

“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”

“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”

“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”

“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”

“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.

“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.

"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."

“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”

"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"

“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”

He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."

“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.

"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."

“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.

You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."

“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.

"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.

“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”

"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."

“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.

"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."

“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.

"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."

"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."

“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”

For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.

“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.

“It’s beautiful.” It’s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”

“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.

“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.

“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”

“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”

“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”

“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.

Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”

“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.

“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.

“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”

“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”

“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”

“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”

“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”

“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”

“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”

“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”

“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”

“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”

“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.

“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.

“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”

“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.

"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.

“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.

"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."

Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”

"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.

“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”

When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"

“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.

Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."

“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.

"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.

“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”

"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.

“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”

"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.

“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.

"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."

“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”

"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.

“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”

"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."

“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.

“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”

“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”

“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.

“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”

“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”

“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”

“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”

“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”

“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”

There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”

“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”

“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”

“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”

“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.

“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”

“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”

“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.

“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”

“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.

“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”

“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”

“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”

“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.

Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.

Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.

“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”

"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.

“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”

"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.

“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”

"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."

“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”

"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.

“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.

“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.

“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.

“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.

Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”

“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.

"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."

“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”

"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."

He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”

Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."

He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.

"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"

“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.

"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.

His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”

"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."

“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”

"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.

“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.

"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.

“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”

The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.

“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”

"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."

“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”

"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."

“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”

"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."

“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.

“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.

“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”

“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”

“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”

“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”

“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.

“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.

“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.

“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.

“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.

“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”

“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”

“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”

“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.

“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”

“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”

“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.

“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”

“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.

“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.

"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.

“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.

"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."

You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.

"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"

“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”

"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"

“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”

Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."

“Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”

"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."

“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”

"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."

“So after that birthday….um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”

"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."

“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.

The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."

“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.

"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."

“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”

"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.

“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.

"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."

“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.

"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.

“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”

Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."

“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”

You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."

“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”

“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”

“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”

“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”

“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”

“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”

“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”

“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”

“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”

“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”

“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”

“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”

“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”

“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”

“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”

“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.

“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.

“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”

He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”

“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[marleyybluu]

Oh sista you ate baaaaad with Don Julio even tho we all know none of us needed liquor help when it comes to that man, I am wide open sober papacito ya tú sabes 🥵🤤

Don Julio 2

Best friends brother!Rio x f!black!OC (Honey)

Word count: 3.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut under your fingernails, p in v, creampie (bcus I have a serious problem atp), two dummies who think no one notices they’re into each other, a bit of flirting, oral (f receiving), we are in missionary today, Rio wears rings 🙃 :)

Lmk if I’m missing any idk I probably am

A/N: surprise, the Rio girlies get fed even though I don’t like this, some parts suck in my opinion but I hate everything I write so what’s new. Not proofread sorry

Suddenly she was so... aware of him, of every molecule and particle that created his form.  Now, she notices his hands and the copious amount of rings he wore, how large and wide his palms were and how slender and long his fingers suddenly seemed. She took a swig from her can of Twisted Tea as she sat around one of the tables in their family's backyard. She didn't want to be here, it was too weird for her, but it was his birthday party. She'd been to all of his parties since they were kids and she figured the lack of her presence would be obvious.

She kept her distance though, only saying 'Happy birthday' and 'Here's your gift' when she arrived about two hours ago and hadn't said anything else to him since. But she couldn't keep her eyes off of him, the fantasies of what could've possibly happened that night haunt he in a pleasant way, but she just adored him from afar. Paying extra attention to whom he was talking to.

Vera.

She's a beautiful woman, Honey could give her that, she is probably the same age as him too. She'd been around the neighbourhood long ago but moved and would once in a while return home to visit. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes narrow as she attempted to read Vera's lips to know what they were discussing but she couldn't make out anything, this weird pang in her chest— possibly a smidge of jealousy, was an unnecessary and stupid feeling. She sighs and shifts her eyes to Cherry who had seemingly been watching her the whole time. Honey smiles innocently as if she hadn't just been ogling her brother for ten minutes. Cherry nods to the house, letting Honey know to meet her inside.

Honey excused herself from the table and waltzed her way in through the back door that led straight into their big kitchen, a few family members-- mostly men, were inside the living room watching football. Cherry cleared her throat, her way of announcing she was in the room. Honey spun on her heels and beamed. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just need help bringing some more drinks out."

She shrugs and they both head down to the basement and to the wall where various boxes of liquor, both strong and light, were propped up. She reaches for the Corona's and the Smirnoff's able to hold one of each. "Can you believe Vera's here? I swear that woman gets prettier with age." Cherry states and there's that kink in her chest again. Honey nods, afraid that if she mutters anything she'll give away the jealousy but her friend continues with; "I wonder if they've been hooking up." She reaches for more Twisted Teas and two boxes of White Claw's mostly for her consumption. Honey swallows and looks at her shoes. "What makes you think that?"

She smirks. "I went into his room, just to steal one of his sweaters, and I saw something pink under his bed,"

Oh god.

"I didn't touch it but I'm assuming they were some panties."

One of the boxes slipped from Honey's hands and crashed to the floor, it popped open and all the cans of Twisted Tea rolled in their own directions. Cherry chuckled. "Are you good?"

"Yeah... yeah, I just— sorry." She stammered, she squats down to pick up those that fell in front of her while her friend grabbed the scattered ones. "Here, take this box and I'll hold some of the cans." She says and they switch. Honey feels like she can't even look her friend in the eye, her cheeks feeling warm and if she was any lighter she'd be as red as a stoplight. They head back upstairs where they meet the birthday boy in the kitchen with his head in the fridge. "What do you want now?" Cherry asks with fake annoyance. He pops up and straightens his posture just like he did when he was younger getting caught doing something bad. "Came lookin' for some more drinks." He says pointing to the boxes, his eyes locked with Honey's and she swore she lost her balance for a split second.

Her face only getting hotter, he was a continuous reminder of that Sunday morning. Cherry raised her eyebrows as her eyes played ping-pong between the two, the silence was awkward and making her uncomfortable. She'd never seen the two be this strange. She dropped the cans and the box of drinks onto the counter, hard enough that the sound would snap the two out of whatever unearthly trance this was. Honey and Rio broke their staring contest, eyes bouncing off in different directions. He helped the two put the drinks in the cooler, he had a spliff tucked behind his ear, and he took it down offering it to his sister. She dismisses him and says she has to find their father, so she leaves the two alone, Rio puts the spliff between his lips and cups the free end with his hand, with his other hand he flicks the lighter and the small flame transfers over to the paper, burning it along with the kush.

Honey just watches him from the corner of her eye when he looks up she darts her eyes forward and begins to sway from side to side. He looks over at her. "Still don't smoke?"

"I do," She lied. "Occasionally." She didn't know why she fibbed, she just did. He chuckles calling her bluff and in some strange urge to prove to her friends older that she is mature enough to smoke, she takes it from him and inhales, she holds it and chokes once before coughing embarrassingly loud. He chuckles and takes the spliff from her, he pats her back but it is no help as she continuously coughs. Now it's becoming concerning. He puts the (still) lit spliff behind his ear and ushers her back inside in hopes of getting her some water.

"I-I'm fine, I sw- cough- I swear."

"Yeah fucking right, mama." He coos grabbing her a bottle from the fridge making sure he opens it for her before handing it to her. Honey tips her head back as she downs the bottle in desperate relief. She comes up for air and sighs with contentment. "Better?" He asks.

"Mhm." She nods and suddenly realizes they're both alone. In the house. In the kitchen. Honey clears her throat and opens her palm, a silent way of asking for the cap. He hands it to her and their fingers brush for a moment, she savours it, a shot of electricity running through her veins. He finds himself blushing and quickly retracts his hand, though he'd give anything to touch her soft skin again. "Thanks." She mutters. "Yeah."

There's that awkward silence and neither of them knows what to do. "Your fault anyway." She says under her breath with quick wit. "You're the one who knows you don't smoke. Why take it?"

"Why offer it to me?" She giggles, he takes it from behind his ear again and inhales as he lets her question sit in the air. He shrugs and blows the thin smoke away from her face. "Didn't think you'd take it."

Honey rolls her eyes. "You've always been like that." He responds. "Like what?" She asks. He shrugs and takes another drag. "What?" She repeats and he continues to serve her with silence. "Well, you've always been an asshole." Honey spits back, now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Always been like that." She says mocking his words from earlier. They look at each other as the awkward silence becomes less so, it bleeds into a comfortable feeling with each other. Rio's eye quickly falls to her lips and back up to her and she catches it. She witnesses his want for her, dare she say it's a need. And between the head buzz of both kush and liquor his mask was faltering, the longer she stared the softer his features became for her.

"I need you to kiss me..." She whispers and trails off, the statement taking the both of them by surprise, he'd ask for reassurance but the slight desperation in her voice and the positiveness in her face were more than enough. Rio doesn't hesitate. He kisses her like his life depends on it and maybe it did. His hands cup her cheeks drawing her closer to him. Their bodies pressed against each other and the kiss quickly rose from slow and sweet to hot and steamy. She slides her hands under his shirt, her fingers dance along the warm skin of his smooth back. He licks her bottom lip as a response and she gladly invites him in. Honey feels herself stumbling back as their tongues fight in the name of lust, she finally hits the counter and is hoisted on top of it.

"Wait..." She mumbled but it fell on deaf ears as his lips met hers again, she moaned into the kiss and gently pushed him back. "Someone's gonna see us." She laughs breathlessly. It was a miracle no one did already. He wraps her legs around him and lifts her off the counter. "You sure about this?"

She nods and he carries her up the stairs while making sure the coast is clear. He takes her to his bedroom, the place where it all started, and closes the door and locks it. "How long do you think it'll be before anyone notices you gone?"

"Who would notice?"

She playfully flicks him against his temple. "You are the birthday boy remember?"

"Worry about it later." He huffed and before she could get another word out he shut her up with another kiss. His hands shift her dress up around her hips, the cold air of his room creates prickles against her mahogany skin. He rests her down on the bed, her back contacting the very soft comforter and the memorable mattress. The best damn sleep she ever had was on that thing. His lips travel to her jawline and along the side of her neck. She turns her head giving him more access to her sweet spot he so seemingly remembers.

Her toes curl at the teasing, the anticipation, for once she wanted to skip foreplay and just go straight to it. Her eyes flutter as he sucks on her supple skin in hopes he'd leave a mark, another thing to spark her memory of him. Honey softly moans when his fingertips play with the strings of her thong, pulling them down and exposing her wet and needy pussy. She gasps at the friction from the band of his boxers rubbing against her swelling clit. Her eyes wander the room and land on his doorknob, she squints and giggles. "What?"

"Are... are those my panties hanging from your door?" She snorts. He quickly turns his head and blushes. "Maybe."

"You want these too?"

"Don't tempt me." He says before attaching his lips to her neck once again. She lightly scratches at his back. and whines as her aching hole clenches around nothing. He finally undoes his jeans, and the sound of his belt hitting the floor only adds to the tension, she almost whimpers when his shirt is next to go and his body is on display for her and her only. Rio's hands waste no time caressing the back of her legs as he pushes them back, his eyes so fixated on her swollen sex, he places his thumb on top of her clit and rubs slow circles on her sensitive nub. She sighs with pleasure as her eyes close, his thumb soon trails down her slit collecting her slick.

His middle and ring fingers follow the same path before they find their way inside her. "Oh." Honey mewled as they planted themselves deeper, her eyes slowly rolled to the back of her skull when he started playing with her pussy. He pushed his fingers in and took them out at a languid pace. The sounds of her wet pussy squelching with every pump of his fingers erupted through the room, bouncing into his ears and running straight to his dick as if it couldn't get any harder. He had to make this quick before anyone got suspicious.

"I promise mama, next time I'll take real good care of you." Rio coos in her ear before pulling away and ridding himself of his pants and boxers.

Honey softly whines and clenches at the promise of a next time. She watched his painfully hard dick spring out and hit his lower abdomen with a hard this. Her eyes slightly widened as if was her first time seeing him. Wondering how she took all that. "You scared now?"

Honey sat up on her elbows and shook her head, she looked up at him through her fresh set of lashes. She slowly spreads her legs wider. His eyes fall between them and his tongue swipes his bottom lip. "Next time..." He softly repeats to himself as a reminder. "Next time..." He pulls her to the end of the bed and drops to his knees in front of her, he can't wait until next time. He just needed a little taste.

His head disappears between her thighs and she's greeted with the warmth of his tongue between her swollen lips she glitches at the contact but soon relaxes when a kiss is pressed against her clit before it was followed up with his tongue once more. Her eyelids fluttered. He was practically making out with her pussy, wet and sloppy sounds made themselves known-- thank goodness the music could drown them out. Gasps and whines leave her lips, her toes curl, her body rendering her powerless against his regime, especially when his thumb starts to tease her hole with small circles.

His hands ran over the back of her thighs and hooked in the space provided behind her knees. She's writhing under his touch, her hands gripping onto his sheets for dear life. "Oooooh, yeeeesss." She slurs lost in her pleasure.

Rio smiles at her continuous babbling, half the words he could barely make out himself. Honey's moans were going straight to his dick making him harder than ever it was almost painful. He, unwillingly, pulls away and she lets out a frustrated sigh. He smacks her thigh and shakes his head. "You're getting what you want, mama, relax. Yeah?"

He gives her no time to respond before he guides himself inside her heat, she's beyond wet and sticky, he knew he wouldn't last. Her back arches with every inch he puts inside her, she cries out as her hand quickly flies to his lower abdomen. "Fuck, wait..." She protests, swearing she can't take anymore.

"Honey, if you don't move that hand." His tone let her know it was a warning, she whines as she takes her hand back. Her jaw slacks so much it touches her chest, he's in and he's in deep. He retracts only a little bit before going in for more. He drives his hips into hers at a tantalizing rhythm. Honey's head falls onto the soft mattress, she lays there and all she can do is take what he's giving to her like a good girl.

A string of poetic and vulgar moans leave her system, telling him how big he is, how deep he is and how good he's making her feel. He can only respond with his grunts and praises, leaning over to bury his head in the crook of her neck, whispering some of the filthiest things she'd ever heard. "That pussy is soaking for me, huh? Guess it wasn't the Don Julio, after all, you fucking like this?"

All she can do is nod, the air from her lungs has been knocked out. The bed is rocking, creaking to the beat of his strokes, the small fear of being caught or heard had dissipated and her sole focus was on the man on top of her. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Her nails dig into his flesh while his teeth graze over her neck, his tongue gracing the same area. Rio pounded into her until he felt her tighten around him, he looked at her to catch her love faces. The way her jaw drops and her eyes roll to the back of her head, her eyelids fluttering from the intense pleasure and the euphoric feeling. And he just keeps going. Dragging it out, making sure she lets out everything. All of it. But she can't take it anymore, it feels good but she's so sensitive from the explosive orgasm, that her hand goes back to his lower abdomen.

And Honey gasps out of shock when her hands are suddenly pinned to the bed and above her head. "I told you to move your fucking hand didn't I?"

"Fuck! Baby, I can't take it." She pleads. "But you took it so well last time mama. I remember it."

Her eyes gloss over. "Telling me you don't remember? The way you kept asking me, begging me for more. For me to go deeper, for me to fill you up all the way."

She nods lazily, though she can barely tell what she's agreeing with. "Yeah? So, you can take it. Look how well you're doing right now."

Rio mumbles into her neck, he lets go of her hands and they immediately hug around his neck. "There she is." Her heels dig into his lower back, she wanted it deeper if it was possible. "Fuck me, please." She whines and it's barely a whisper. He pushes himself deep and stills his hips. "You asked so nicely darlin'." He rasps.

She's pinned between his body and the mattress, she could feel a devilish smirk against her skin before he isolates his hips— rotating them sloooowly. He's losing it too, just trying to keep his cool but he was at his tipping point. His tip nudging against her g-spot and her lush walls contracting around him. "You wanna cum baby?" She whispers and now it's his turn to nod as he loses his words. "You can cum inside me." She purrs feeling another orgasm pulling through. Rio plunged into her, she's coating him with her sticky pleasure. He stills once more and soon he's pouring everything into her, she giggles lazily. "Mmm, so warm."

He chuckled and shook his head planting a passionate kiss on her cheek. And they lay like that for a while, vibing in their post-coital glow— sweaty, hot and satisfied.

But as time passes they realize they have to go back before anyone truly notices anything. He cleans her up and himself and then begins to get dressed, in silence, which feels awkward. Neither of them knew what to say.

After they get dressed, Rio sneaks out first just in case anyone is inside the house— especially on the lookout for his sister but when he confirms the coast is clear he knocks on the door twice to let Honey know they are fine. The small action causes her to smile to herself. "I have to fix my hair." She softly says and hears a muffled, "Take your time, baby."

Her heart leaps and the little girl inside her begins to glow which causes her cheeks to heat up and if she were any lighter she'd look like a tomato.

After making sure she looked decent she creeps out of his room and closes the door quietly, but as she heads to the top of the steps she hears, "Honey?"

You've got to be kidding.

She quickly spins on her heels and smiles, seeing Cherry in the door frame of the bathroom, she reaches to turn off the light and crosses her arms right after.

"Hi, Cherry."

Her friend's eyes dart between her and the bedroom door. "What are you doing in Rio's room?"

Honey's throat had suddenly run dry and her brain had flushed all the excuses in the world. She had nothing to say. What could she say? It wouldn't be believable regardless. Her mouth opened with the incentive to speak but nothing but croaks of awkwardness.

"Are you-"

"Honey!" A sudden call comes from downstairs. It's Rio looking up at them from the first floor. "Have you seen- oh there she is. Honey and I were looking for you. Bring your big heads downstairs I'm cutting the cake."

She could feel a bead of sweat forming at her hairline. "I'm getting the second slice!" Honey childishly announces bolting down the stairs. "No! I am!" Cherry follows suit and they both bolt down the stairs. Honey slows down allowing her friend to pass her. She squeezes his arm as a silent thank you and he nods at her.

Everyone is outside and gathered around the table waiting for the three of them to arrive. Cherry and Honey stand with the birthday boy as their mom lights the candles.

"One... two... three."

They begin to sing, and while everyone is looking at him he can only pay attention to one person. Honey. She giggles and puts her head down trying to hide her ginormous smile. Everyone else was too busy singing to notice, but Cherry... oh Cherry noticed. Something was going on and she needed to find out.

Now.

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover @librarian1002

Might be interested: @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo

If you would like to be on the tag list, or removed lmk. If I missed you, sorry, I don’t have these tag lists written down (I should )

[anurst]

Girl Bradshaw

Summary: a little peek into the early years of your life

Pairing(s): Jake Seresin x F! Bradshaw! Reader

Warning(s): mentions of deceased parents, death of a loved one, fighting, bradley being a dick, daddy issues,

A/n: thank you for all the support on the first part :,) glad you all liked it!

Part 2: Chick

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

He was a man who was loved by all who met him. He was loved most of all by his family. His best friend, his brother from another mother, Pete, was his counterpart. Someone who'd always have his back, no matter what. His loving wife, Carole, was his high school sweetheart and the love of his life. She just like him was easy to love. She was bright, sweet, a constant ray of love and laughter. There was also their adorable son, Bradley. A boy who loved his dad more than anything. Most of time you'd find him clutching a mini F-14 Tomcat in his hands, a gift from his beloved dad. Everyone who met Nick loved him.

You never got the chance to meet him. Nick died 6 months after you were born. Bradley was 5 at the time. He had 5 years with him, while you had nothing. Bradley had memories, however few he remembered, with him. And you? Nothing. You know who he is, but you don't know him.

Maybe that was the start of the fall of your relationship with Bradley.

Despite never knowing your dad, Carole, always the good mother, showed you pictures of him, told you stories about him, let you watch the old videotapes that he was in.

Oh, how you loved those videotapes as a child. For hours, you'd lay in the living room, eyes glued to the TV that replayed videos of Nick. Some were of him with Carole, their undying love for one another as clear as day. Others were of moments with him and friends. Then there were some of Bradley, his first steps, preschool, birthdays, his little league games. There was only one of you and Nick.

It was the day you were born. Carole was asleep on the hospital bed with Bradley curled up against her side. You were laying in your hospital issued bassinet, your eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. Nick, the loving father, pointed the camera down at you and cooed.

"Baby, you are beautiful. Just like your mama. You're smaller than your brother was when he born. You're like a baby chick! That's what I'll call you, baby chick. My chick." The camera shifts from you to Nick. He's smiling wide and his eyes are full of love. "I'll always protect you, Chick. I'll always love you."

You stopped watching the videotapes when you got into middle school. They were too much to watch, the heartache was all consuming. Pete around this time had filled in the void that Nick had left. When he wasn't on deployment, he was living in an apartment 10 minutes away from the Bradshaw house.

Although seeing you, Carole, and Bradley caused Pete to relive the worst event of his life, he stayed because of you. Whenever you'd get out of the school and you saw him, you'd smile wide and he'd see Nick. When you'd tell him a story about something that happened, your eyes would light up and he's feel his heart swell with love for you.

Carole never minded Pete stepping in as a father figure for you. He wasn't just Nick's best friend but her's as well. She was grateful that you had someone to look up. She didn't date since she felt that no one would ever live up to Nick, so Pete made life easier. Of course, he wasn't around every day, during those times you'd practically cling to Bradley.

It was late one night when you'd gotten up for some water. Half asleep, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before stopping. You peeked around the corner to see your mom on the phone, her back turned to you.

"He's talking about joining the Naval Academy, Pete! Please! I can't," Carole let out a shaky breath, "I can't lose him too." Her shoulders were shaking with light sobs and you frowned. Turning around, you tried to walk as slowly as possible back to your room. The floorboard creaked underneath you and you stopped.

"Braidy?" Carole asked, her footsteps rushing towards you. Turning around, you pretended to rub your eyes and smiled at your mom.

"Just had to pee," you whispered. Carole bit her lip before she moved to wrap her arms around you. You let your head rest on her shoulder as you wrapped your arms around her. By this time, you were around the same height.

"I love you, Chick," she whispered softly. She removed her arms from around you and cradled your face. Tears started to pool in her eyes as she kissed your forehead.

"Mama? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"Where is she!" Bradley yelled, his voice full of panic. The nurse jumped a little at the volume of his voice.

"R-Room 264."

Spitting out an apology, Bradley took off running. His heart was beating out of his chest and could feel bile start to rise in his throat. He stopped when he saw you squatting outside your mom's hospital room. Your body shook and your wails were muffled. "Braidy...?" Bradley whispered, immediately crouching down and wrapping you up in his arms.

You clung to your big brother as you continued to cry. "Bradley...Sh-She's gone..." you sobbed, your hands tightly gripping the back of Bradley's shirt.

"HE PULLED MY PAPERS BRAIDY!" Bradley yelled at you, his face red with anger and sweat starting to form on his forehead. You let out a small whimper at his voice and pushed your hair away from your face.

"I'M SURE HE HAS HIS REASONS, BRADLEY! JUST TALK TO HIM!"

Scoffing, Bradley shook his head and pointed a finger at you. "DID YOU DO THIS? DID YOU TELL HIM TO PULL MY PAPERS?" Shocked, you shook your head.

"NO! BRADLEY JUST TALK TO DAD!"

Silence filled the room as you both took in your own words. Shaking, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as you wiped him.

"Dad?" Bradley scoffed, his voice full of venom. "That guy's dead to me. And, so are you."

[taglist: @potato-girl99981 @winterrebel04 @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina@krismdavis @phantomxoxo]

[kimsohn]

it takes 2 to mango

pairing . beomgyu x gn! reader (ft. yunjin of le sserafim) about . 12.2k words, fluff + angst warnings . cursing, a lot of food mentions, kissing, mentions of murder/dying (it's all jokes), y/n is in denial half the time (about beomgyu and mangoes), it took me like 2 months to write this so it may be all over the place i'm sorry in advance

synopsis . after your parents drop you off at your aunt's, leaving you with your whole life packed in bags, all you can do is wonder when you'll finally be able to get back to your old life. except, of course, when a brown-haired boy makes you wonder if staying here isn't so bad after all. note . literally after 2 years of delay and many plot changes it's finally here!! happy (late) birthday @urmelo, i told you i would write it and it's here (albeit two months late but wtv). also i literally wrote this whole thing based on this image but halfway through i realized he's sitting in a classroom so my whole broadcast idea was stupid 😞 and this is slightly inspired by all of us are dead and f4thailand! i stole the mango pun from google tagging . @invuwrld @tocupid @mmmsvnts @seung-scrittore

You have never loathed mangoes more than this moment.

It’s only been a couple of hours since your parents dropped you off at your aunt’s house, your whole life packed into suitcases and a Hello Kitty backpack you’ve owned since fifth grade, and you’re already sick of this situation. You don’t even understand your parents’ thought process, because who would even leave their whole life behind to start a mango supply business in Thailand, and you’re even angrier at your aunt for encouraging it. Now, you’re forced to leave behind the comfort of your old life and start anew in the four walls of your new house, miles away from your parents and old friends.

You even hate the stupid smile on your mom’s face when you agreed to their plan. At least you’ll be somewhat rich when your parents decide to come home, however long that might take (hopefully it’s within the next five minutes or so).

“Y/N, let me know if you want to paint your walls, okay? Your uncle loves interior design, so he’ll be happy to organize your room.”

In your old house, your walls were a bright, cheery yellow. Now they’re a boring beige, reminiscent of the hospital walls you’ve always hated. It’s okay though, because now yellow will remind you of mangoes, and you’re just about ready to hurl something at the mere thought of the fruit.

“It’s okay Auntie,” you respond, tracing your finger across the indents of the walls, “I kind of like the beige.”

Your cousin Yeonjun snickers from behind your aunt, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Yeonjun is definitely the type to hate beige because even his personality shines a bright red flag. Even now, he’s on his phone, probably flirting with (code word for annoying) some poor soul.

“Okay, honey. Yeonjun can help you finish unpacking, and then he can take you to school so you can find your classes. Tomorrow is your first day, after all, I don’t want you to get lost.”

With that, she closes the door behind you, leaving the two of you in your drab room with no personality. Instead of helping you unpack, Yeonjun sits on the chair in the corner, typing away with no care in his mind.

“I thought you were supposed to help?” you huff, though it’s not angrily.

Even though you and your cousin were friends, at first forcibly due to your family relations and later willingly because he’s actually quite interesting, you know that he won’t hesitate to note whatever he can to have leverage over you. Already, he’s taken a picture of your backpack, and if he helps you unpack, he’ll definitely find the shark plushie you brought for the sentiment. It’s not out of malice; it’s just the way your relationship is, however annoying it may be.

“Like you need my help,” he scoffs, crossing one leg over the other as a means to get comfortable, “just let me know when you’re done.”

You survey the mess of your belongings scattered across the bed. It’ll probably take hours, if not days, to sort out properly, and even you are itching to leave this stuffy room and get some fresh air. You’ve sorted out what you need for the next few days, so you might as well revisit this mess later.

“Actually, we can go now. I kind of need a break anyway.”

“Goody-two-shoes Y/N needs a break? Are you in your rebel era?” he jokes, but he opens the door and sticks a leg out, leaving it open for you to walk through.

You smack him on the shoulder as you walk to his car, sitting shotgun and itching to put your feet on the dash. You’re an average kid and you do average things, but you’re not in the mood to argue and correct your cousin.

“Just shut up and drive.”

You kind of wish you stayed at home because even mangoes wouldn’t survive in this environment.

Actually, there’s nothing wrong with your new school. It seems even more modern and spacious than your old one, and it has way more amenities than you could even imagine. You can see yourself fitting in here quite well, and since Yeonjun is popular, it’ll be easy to make friends.

The only problem is that the air conditioner isn’t working today, which means it’s extremely hot in the building. The hot sun outside paired with the lack of cool air means the whole building could resemble the Sahara Desert, and you wish you’d worn something more fitting for the weather, like the tank top Yeonjun has on right now (although, he seems to have other motives for wearing it). The sweat beads trickle down your forehead, and the only thing saving you right now is the popsicle your cousin was kind enough to buy for you. Unluckily, the gas station only had the mango flavor left.

“Yeonjun, are we done yet?” you ask, although it sounds more like a plea as you trudge along the hallways.

“Actually, no. We still have the science hallway, and the math hallway, and—”

A shrill noise fills the air, and you cover your ears shut and watch Yeonjun’s popsicle fall from his hands. Startled, the two of you find stability against the wall as the sound disappears and is replaced with crackling noises.

“Fuck, my popsicle!” Yeonjun exclaims, looking extremely disappointed as he grabs a tissue and cleans the mess up.

“Forget the popsicle, what was that? It’s a Sunday, who’s playing with the speakers?”

“It’s probably the media team preparing for the week’s announcements. Come, I’ll show you the broadcast studio.”

Yeonjun’s flip-flops squeak across the floor as you two walk, and in a matter of minutes, you reach a bright blue door next to the auditorium. Big block letters indicating which room it is are engraved on top, and Yeonjun knocks on the door repeatedly until it opens.

“I knew it was you,” a blue-haired boy answers, “you’re the only one annoying enough to knock that many times.”

“Hey! You should’ve answered faster.” Yeonjun protests as you giggle, glad you’re not the only one who finds your cousin annoying.

The boy pouts as he lets you two inside, and immediately you feel like you were cast into a recording studio. Shelves of CDs and books fill the sides, and behind the glass panel, a room full of microphones and levers peeks through. You feel like Radio Rebel in her bedroom, only intensified, and as you check out the large computer screens that line the walls, you find yourself imagining sitting in the center and being a part of whatever goes on behind the scenes here.

Your eyes cross over a brown-haired boy sitting at the table, headphones covering his plush hair and a teal highlighter in his hand. He’s looking down at a piece of paper, probably a script, and unknowingly you’re leaning forward to get a better look at his face before Yeonjun taps your shoulder and you straighten yourself.

“Y/N, this is Soobin,” Yeonjun gestures to the blue-haired boy, “and that over there is Beomgyu,” he continues, pointing to the boy at the desk.

Soobin smiles warmly, shaking your hand awkwardly as if this was a courthouse and not a classroom, but your eyes are more focused on Beomgyu. They’re focused on the way he taps the highlighter on his lips when he’s deep in thought, or when he adjusts his headphones when he’s satisfied with something. Yeonjun moves to interrupt him, probably to introduce you, but you hold him back so he can continue his work.

 “Are you interested in joining?” Soobin asks, handing you a flyer, “we could always use more people.”

“I’m not that much of a speaker,” you respond, taking the handout anyway.

“You don’t need to be. We do more here than just talk, you know?”

As Soobin waves you goodbye, you take one last glance at the room, particularly Beomgyu, before you step out. You don’t know for sure whether you’ll join the club or not, but you have a feeling that you’ll be seeing him around pretty soon.

You might hate your alarm clock more than you hate mangoes, but at least it’s useful.

It’s the first day at your new school, but you’re not really jumping for joy. School is school wherever you go, and you don’t really feel the excitement or jitters someone would usually feel after transferring. You’re just about ready to pass through the rest of the year as smoothly as possible and hopefully not gain unwanted attention as the resident new kid. You’re already suffering enough by joining after a whole semester; you don’t need to bring any more trouble to yourself.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Yeonjun yells from outside the house, revving the accelerator so you can hear his annoyance.

“Coming!” you yell back, grabbing your bag and rushing out the door, holding a half-eaten piece of toast and a glass of orange juice.

Yeonjun likes to go to school a little early so he can talk to his friends, but this was a fact you didn’t know until five minutes ago. In an ideal situation, you wouldn’t have been rushing on your first day, but your cousin never makes things easy for you. At least he didn’t drive off without you.

Yeonjun attempts to lecture you about your lateness in the car, but you tell him to pay attention to the road and stuff the toast in your mouth. One thing you won’t let your cousin disturb you about is food, so you’re glad he calms down and lets you enjoy a peaceful ride to school.

You’re finishing your orange juice as he pulls into the student parking lot. He has a spot reserved for him, apparently, and the fact seems to be true as he parks in the space with “YEONJUN” decorated in bright red spray-paint letters. He puts on sunglasses as he exits the car, and you’re extremely glad he doesn’t have fans swooning over him in front of his car because you don’t know how much more you can take. Who does he think he is?

Thankfully, the air conditioner seems to be working this time around because as soon as you enter through the front doors, a blast of cool air hits you in the face. It’s only January, but the sun outside doesn’t seem to be taking a break this week, so you’re grateful for the human wonder that is A/C. Yesterday’s empty halls are now filled with students, and already Yeonjun is dragging you off to introduce you to some new people. You’re just glad he has pink hair because otherwise, you would’ve lost him.

By the time you reach your first class, your mind is riddled with names of people you’ll probably never talk to again. You’ve met at least three Jaehyuns, a Yunjin and a Yujin and another Han Yujin, two Jisungs, and many more students you definitely won’t remember. If you were on your own, it would’ve taken you a whole year to talk to this many people, but with a semi-superstar by your side, it only took ten minutes. You’re just glad your presence seems to be well-received.

Your first class is math, and already you find yourself falling asleep. A stack of books finds its way onto your desk, a textbook for everything you could need, and you can foresee yourself sleeping in to skip this terrible class. The only good sight about this class is Mr. Kim, who’s nice and tries to be entertaining, but there are only so many ways you can make numbers and formulas fun. At least the girl sitting in front of you, Yunjin from earlier, helps you pass the time by doodling her number on the margins of your notebook.

Bored and half asleep, you trudge your way to your second class, history. You’re grateful your cousin helped you find your way across the school yesterday, because your class is across the school in a corner you wouldn’t have even known existed. Unlucky for you, Mrs. Jung isn’t as nice or entertaining as Mr. Kim, but just before you can succumb to slumber, the intercom buzzes.

The morning announcements play, but instead of Soobin’s voice, you hear someone unfamiliar.

“Hey everyone, happy Monday! It’s the beginning of the week, which means we have a long road ahead, but I believe in each and every one of you to get through it. We’re only a couple of weeks from break, which is an exciting thought to look forward to…”

You realize halfway through that the voice is Beomgyu’s, and you don’t know what it is about his voice, but it seems to be perfect for starting off the announcements. He seems to be tasked with maybe a desperate attempt to cheer up the student body on a dreary Monday, but they seem to be doing the job because you feel much lighter than before the announcements. Others seem to feel the same way too, because the atmosphere in the once stale, cornered history classroom is now bright and jolly. You honestly wish you had listened to the full script he had prepared, but either because of your previous fascination or his soft, honeylike voice, you find it hard not to be lulled to dreamland.

After, he's followed by Soobin, who talks about the daily updates and the weather, and you wonder how he manages to sound so upbeat and cheery this early in the morning. He then passes the mic to a boy named Taehyun, who voices important announcements and leads the school pledge before the mic crackles off.

You can’t stop thinking about Beomgyu for the rest of the class period, so when he slides into the empty seat next to you halfway through the lesson, you think you must be imagining things. It’s like he’s glowing, as if a dreamy filter spans across his face. You stare at him until he stares back and raises an eyebrow, a quirk to show his feelings of confusion. He throws a rolled-up piece of paper at you, and when you catch it, you realize he’s very much real.

Bit by bit, you unfold the paper, and in scratchy handwriting, he’s written ‘Am I that interesting?’ in all caps. Your face feels like it’s on fire, and you tuck the paper in between the crease of your notebook, filled with doodles of Beomgyu’s name. You quickly shut it, hoping he didn’t see it, and avoid his gaze for the rest of the period.

Unluckily for you, fate doesn’t seem to be on your side because as soon as the bell rings, Beomgyu is reaching out to grab your elbow. You think you’re utterly and absolutely fucked, and you’re even more mortified when he links elbows with you and leads you out of the classroom.

“What’s your next class?” he prods, and you only answer after he asks a second time because you’re too embarrassed to register anything.

“English, with Mr. Yoon. Look, I’m sorry about before, I thought I was dreaming—”

“Dreaming? Are you in love with me or something?” he asks, and even though the question is accusatory, his smooth voice makes it sound like music to your ears.

“No!” you exclaim, a little too loudly that you have to apologize to the teachers standing in the hallway before continuing, “Look, I was falling asleep in Mrs. Jung’s class, okay? Since the seat next to me was empty beforehand, I thought you were a random daydream that I was making up to distract myself. I genuinely didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my staring or anything, I just didn’t know you were real until you threw that ball at me.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” he responds, his features softening at your explanation, “her class is pretty boring anyway. You’re new here, right? Yeonjun’s cousin? I’m Beomgyu.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. You’re a little weird, you know that?” he remarks, laughing as he walks you to class.

You look down at your linked elbows and his goofy skipping. His observance is contradictory, but somehow, his weirdness is a little endearing to refute.

“Yeah, but you’re a little weird too. We cancel each other out, I guess.”

As soon as you step into the production room, you’re cast with the smell of mangoes. Seriously, those damned fruits seem to be following you, and you can never seem to escape them.

“Y/N! Hi! Welcome!” Soobin greets, ushering you into the room and grabbing you a seat, “We’re so happy to have you.”

It’s the next Thursday, a week after the dreaded daydream incident, and you’ve decided to show up to the broadcast meetings. You’ve been toying with the idea of joining ever since you walked into the room on Sunday, but it was Beomgyu’s insistence yesterday that really pushed you over the cliff of uncertainty.

“We have a lot of fun there. You don’t even have to speak on the morning announcements to be a part of it! We do much more than that, like run the newspaper and manage the yearbook. There’s a place for everyone, Y/N, you won’t regret joining.”

Even now, he waves warmly from the seat next to you. You’ve been talking frequently these days, partially because he’s in quite a few of your classes and partially because he’s part of a group chat Yeonjun added you to. He’s interesting to talk to and he always makes you laugh, and being around him makes you feel warm and fuzzy. Like your initial observance, he’s a little weird and goofy too, but it makes him all the more delightful.

You’re not crushing on him, of course. He’s a nice person to pass the time with during and after school. Besides, your friends at home are much better; he’s just a placeholder.

“Have some cake, Y/N!” Soobin insists, pushing a plate toward you, “It’s mango flavored!”

You smile hesitantly as you pick up the spoon and take a bite. It tastes good and you hate admitting it because mango is a good flavor; you just don’t like being reminded of the sentiment that comes along with it. You gaslight yourself into thinking it’s strawberry and finish the plate quickly, downing your water bottle straight after.

“Was it good?” Beomgyu asks, his voice a little hard to hear due to the conversations of next week’s script being tossed around behind him, “I got it from a bakery near my house. We actually have a snack at every club meeting, and this week was my turn to bring it.”

“Yeah, it was good. I’m just not really fond of mango,” you respond, already cringing at the words coming out of your mouth.

“You don’t like mango? Who doesn’t like mango?” Beomgyu voices, responding exactly how you expected him to.

“Me. I just don’t.”

Beomgyu drops the topic at your insistence and talks about the club instead, introducing you to some of the members. Taehyun, the boy from the announcements, is president, and Soobin is vice president. You learn that Beomgyu does a little bit of everything, and you try not to smile as he blushes when his friends list out his talents.

“Is Yeonjun not part of the club?” you ask after he’s introduced you to one of the many Jaehyuns part of the management team, “you guys seem to be good friends.”

“He was initially, but he has modeling lessons on Thursday so he can’t make it. He’s more like an honorary member, to be honest, but he helps us out a lot.”

You hum in agreement, meeting another Jaehyun (why are they all so attractive?) and rounding the corner to talk to Taehyun.

“I’ll leave you with Tae. He’ll help you figure out which team you’re best suited for.”

Taehyun pulls out a chair for you as Beomgyu walks away, and you can immediately see why he’s president. He’s a little reserved but he’s domineering, and he seems perfect for managing things behind and in front of the scenes.

“So, Y/N, did you have anything in mind when you were joining?”

“No, not really. I’m not very talkative though, and I don’t know how to handle a camera.”

“Yeah, Beomgyu also mentioned those things. I think you’ll be a good fit for the newspaper, based on first impression. Editors mostly work on the scripts and I think you’ll find it interesting. Come, I’ll introduce you to the head.”

He introduces you to Yunjin, the girl from your math class, and she helps you get the editing software and drive set up. Yunjin tells you that she’s the type of person who has a lot to say, and writing is a powerful outlet for her because it allows her to explore topics she’s passionate about. You don’t exactly know if you relate to her thought process, but it does make you feel a little excited.

“Is Beomgyu also part of the editing team?” you ask, mainly out of curiosity because you saw him revising the script on Sunday.

“Ah, kind of. He floats around between everything so I guess I could say that he is. Would you like to read some of his work?” she asks, pulling out a newspaper article from a stack in the corner, “Last issue, he wrote the front page spread dissing the school lunch menu. It might seem silly, but it was actually a huge hit, and honestly, the food has even gotten better since.”

You skim through the newspaper, and the interactive, colorful parts draw your gaze in. Elements like the pie chart, bolded words, and quotes make the article worth reading, and you can already tell from skimming the text that Beomgyu is a good writer. You flip through the rest, reading the story headlines and noting that some are serious, some are current, and some are merely just for entertainment. Even throughout the rest of the spreads, you can tell the writers put effort into making sure the newspaper is actually catered to the student population, and you can already imagine yourself publishing an issue of your own in the near future.

“Since you’re new, you can help Beomgyu out with his new piece. Let’s take things slow, okay?”

You nod, turning to face Beomgyu. You don’t know what’s going on in that fascinating mind of his, but you’re excited to find out.

It’s been a busy few weeks since you’ve moved here. Unfortunately, school doesn’t slow down time for you, so you’ve had to handle piles of schoolwork on top of adjusting to your new environment, at school, and at home. Your aunt, for one, is double the amount of hyper your parents were, and it’s taken you a while to get adjusted to her presence. At least you’ve had Yeonjun to help you out.

The one thing that you’ve actually looked forward to at school is the broadcast club. Taehyun was right about you fitting the editor role, and you’ve grown to fit in quite well with the other members. Mainly, however, you spend most of your time with Beomgyu, often looking over his shoulder and bouncing off ideas he has and grammatical errors he needs to fix. The issue is a little satirical, making it fun to read, and you’ve enjoyed helping him out because he actually values your input and your experiences.

It's the reason why he invited you to come to school on Sunday. He thought working in a quieter environment would help you two brainstorm better, and you agreed. You’ve been busy all week working on collecting student opinions for him, and today, he hopes you two can get a significant portion of the article complete.

Unlike the first Sunday you were here, the air conditioning is actually on now, but you still feel a little sweat prickling at the top of your forehead. You’re nervous because this is the first time you’ve actually been alone with Beomgyu, without anyone else nearby to mitigate your nerves. You’re scared about screwing up in front of him, or even worse, floating off into dreamland, but hopefully, you’ll be able to concentrate on your work and keep your thoughts at bay. If anything goes wrong, you can just blame it on his sweet voice.

You’re at least thankful Yeonjun hasn’t caught wind of how you two met, because he would never stop holding it over your head.

You knock three times on the blue door and Beomgyu pulls it open, wearing a bright grin on his face. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, a little bit more casual than his school attire, but somehow it just makes him more attractive. Combined with his dimples, he resembles a teddy bear, and you’re honestly surprised he hasn’t joined the modeling industry like your cousin. He’d make so much money as a loungewear model, you just know it.

“Hey, come in! I just got here, so I’ve been working on some scripts for the next week. You can get your stuff sorted while I finish.”

You nod, pulling the papers out of your bag and opening your laptop. Your mission for the week was to interview students regarding the article. You don’t know if he’ll like them, but hopefully, you’ve got some good anecdotes for Beomgyu to include in his writing.

Or, apparently not.

“Beomgyu.”

“Hmm?” he asks, looking up from his paper.

“I accidentally grabbed Yeonjun’s bag. I left the data at home, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe how stupid I am; how could I even forget something this important?”

“Hey, Y/N,”

“I just knew something was going to go wrong today, and I was so scared I was going to fuck things up and I did, and—”

“Y/N!”

You stop in your tracks, eyes wide and close to tears. You’re usually not this sensitive at all, but this means a lot to you, working with Beomgyu means a lot to you, and you don’t want to lose all of this over your stupidity and inattentiveness. However, Beomgyu looks far from angry, and he has his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them to calm you down.

“It’s okay. You’re all good. We have so much more time until the deadline, so don’t beat yourself up, okay? We can just hang out and have fun. Look, I even brought you some mochi from the corner store!”

He shows you the packet, and the bright yellow color is enough to have you burst into tears.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the packet, “it’s mango flavored. Oh! You don’t like mango. I’m so sorry, it slipped my mind. Forgive me?”

You sniffle, bringing him into a hug. The mochi wrapper crinkles between you as you put your head on his shoulder, clutching onto him as a means to calm you down. Beomgyu stills for a moment, probably out of shock before patting your back, albeit awkwardly yet reassuring.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean to have a breakdown like that. I just didn’t want you to hate me. And I’ll eat the mango mochi, don’t worry.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.”

“You’ve only known me for a couple of weeks; how could you say that?”

“Because even in the short time I’ve known you, I can tell how much of an amazing person you are. You’re bright and talented, and I love spending time with you, so stop apologizing, okay? It was just an accident.”

“Okay, I will,” you whisper, stepping back, “So, what now?”

“We could finish the mochi, for starters.”

You nod as you open the wrapper and take a bite. It’s tasty, so much so that you hate it, and you’re honestly five seconds away from letting go of your stupid grudge just to enjoy some fresh mango. However, your parents have plagued you enough with the fruit on their phone calls, which seems to hold your desires back well enough.

You stand to your feet as Beomgyu beckons you to follow him, wanting to show you something. He lets you in through the small door leading to the glass panel room, and you’re immediately illuminated by the huge screens around you. So much technology surrounds you, from microphones to switches to headphones, but you’re more intrigued by the feedback noise that emits once Beomgyu twists a knob, similar to the one you heard when you first got here.

“Does it usually make that noise when you turn it on?” you ask, walking around the room.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit annoying. That’s why we have to keep it turned on before school starts.”

“I figured. I heard it when I came here with Yeonjun before my first day.”

Beomgyu turns to you with an expression of mild surprise.

“I think Soobin and I were here that day. You should’ve visited us.”

“We did. We talked to Soobin, but you were working on something so we didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Is that why you thought I was in your daydream the day after?”

You feel like you’re on fire, and you look away from him. You didn’t expect Beomgyu to be this perceptive, but it was probably your fault for walking straight into this.

“Umm. Yeah, kind of. It’s embarrassing,” you say, covering your face with your palms.

“It’s not,” he responds, tapping your shoulder, “it’s actually kind of cute. Now that you’re in this room with me again, will I be in another one of your daydreams? I loved feeling like a celebrity.”

You mentally shrivel in humiliation, cringing when he lets out a laugh. If Yeonjun is a tease, then Beomgyu is most definitely a menace.

You are extremely close to falling asleep.

Currently, you’re sunbathing on one of Yunjin’s many beach chairs. They’re colorful and the sun shines ever so gently on your face, so the setting is perfect for you to take a nap. Too bad you’re at a pool party and not in your backyard, and Yunjin just might murder you if you drift off to dreamland after all the hard work you’d put into setting things up.

It’s spring break, which means one whole week of warm sun rays and well-needed rest. The newest issue of the magazine was published yesterday, and particularly this time around, it seemed to be quite popular amongst the student population. The group decided to throw a party to celebrate all the hard work that’s gone into publishing, and what other location would it be at than Yunjin’s gigantic mansion?

You’re particularly proud of Beomgyu’s hard work because his spread was absolutely stunning, but he merely brushed it off and thanked you for helping him when you thanked him earlier. He can be calm and graceful like that at times, like a soft breeze. Now, however, you turn to your side to see him sipping a mocktail on the chair next to you, donned in sunglasses and shark-decorated swim shorts, the farthest thing from serene.

“What flavor is that?” you ask, your voice tinged with sleep, “Actually, never mind. It’s probably mango.”

He laughs, and it’s so, so pretty. If you had to pick one sound to hear for the rest of your life, you’d take your chances on that.

“It is, but it’s kind of watery. I’m gonna save it for later though,” he starts, turning to face the pool and pointing at Taehyun.

“What about him?” you ask, craning your head to see him lounging in the pool with a duck floatie.

“If I cannonball into the pool, just how drenched do you think he’ll be?”

Your cries are practically unheard as you watch Beomgyu jump into the pool, absolutely obliterating not only Taehyun but also poor, unsuspecting Soobin next to him. Ten minutes later, after receiving a well-deserved scolding from Taehyun and issuing apologies, Beomgyu slogs his way back to the chair on your left with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That was definitely worth it.”

“It definitely was not,” you counter, sitting up and leaning against the back, “you’re literally such a nuisance. If I had known you were this terrible, I would not have become friends with you.”

“I mean, you technically didn’t choose. You can’t really help who you daydream about, right?”

You’re glaring daggers into him, but he’s cruel enough to still find the situation funny. You can’t believe he’s trying to hold back laughter even in this situation, but you probably shouldn’t have expected any better. Seriously, how did he go from the sweet-talker broadcast boy to the literal devil?

“Watch your words, or I will slice you up as I did to all the mangoes in Fruit Ninja last week.”

“Woah, chill,” he starts, putting his sunglasses back on and taking a sip of his watery mocktail, “why do you even hate mangoes? You talk about them as if they were your exes.”

“My parents left me here to start a mango business in Thailand,” you say, picking at the skin next to your thumbnail and wincing when it hurts.

Beomgyu spits out his drink in alarm, but you kind of saw it coming. You’ve noticed that he tends to exaggerate things a lot, but you guess it’s just part of his personality.

“Wow, that genuinely sucks. I’m really sorry; I shouldn’t have prodded.”

“It’s okay. I don’t tell people because it’s only temporary. I might not even be here next year.”

Two months ago, you would’ve been happy at the thought. Now, however, even mentioning it brings a pang of sadness to your chest. You’ve known your time here was momentary all along, so why do you feel guilty?

“Are you happy?” he says, his voice a lot quieter now, “I mean, would you want to stay here or go back?”

You want to tell him what you think is logical, and logically, your old home was much better than here. You practically grew up there, and the place suits you so well that you’re meant to be there. However, the words that rush out of your heart speak differently.

“I honestly don’t know. I like it here, but I like it there too. I’ll just enjoy my time here before I leave. I still have a while anyway.”

Beomgyu flips to the other side, away from your gaze before he speaks. If you weren’t listening carefully, you might’ve not been able to hear his words.

“I don’t want you to leave. I like it when you’re here.”

He sounds so soft and clingy that it almost makes you cry. Instantly, you know that no one has ever cared enough to share the same sentiment back at your old house.

Home. You should’ve called it home, but it doesn’t feel right anymore. You used to think that home was a physical feeling, a place where you were raised and nurtured. Home before was the walls of the building you spend the most time in, but now, it feels a little different.

No, home isn’t your old house. It isn’t your new house either, even if the beige has grown quite well to your liking. Home is sitting here on this beach chair, surrounded by your closest friends, and the feelings of warmth that surround you all. Home is an emotion, something you’ve never felt in the past years of your life until you moved here. Home is being surrounded by people who want you, just because you’re you and not because it would be convenient.

“I like being here too,” you whisper back, and although he has his back turned to you, you can still feel his smile.

“Then just tell your parents you want to stay here.”

You can’t tell him that your mindset has made you feel that this is all temporary. Ever since you moved here, you’ve felt like a ticking bomb, waiting for a single phone call to determine your fate. Once, you would’ve been able to answer that it’s where you belong. Now, you seem to question if it’s merely just an obligation.

“It’s not that simple, Beomgyu.”

He sighs, and as he turns back around to face you, you drape an arm over your eyes. You don’t want to feel the intensity of his glare, but even without your vision, you feel his eyes shooting daggers into your abdomen. If only life were as easy as being able to sense Beomgyu’s responses, for you would’ve been sipping margaritas on some island with your talents.

“Isn’t it? Or maybe, just maybe, you’re overcomplicating it.”

You sigh, unwilling to answer, and the conversation falls to a standstill. You hate thinking, especially about this, but eventually, Beomgyu’s words are going to catch up to you. Whatever the implications of this conversation are, you’re sure you won’t enjoy them.

Not one bit.

You’re walking home with Beomgyu a couple of days after break has ended, an unfamiliar scene for you. Usually, Yeonjun drives you home in his shiny car, but he had to stay back for some tutoring today and you were left ride-less. Thankfully, Beomgyu swooped in to save the day, saying he’d keep you company since he knew the route. You’d accepted quite freely, definitely because you didn’t want to rely on Google Maps and not because you liked spending time with him.

Spring is in full season, which means the walk home is filled with greenery and a lush breeze. You feel like something out of a Studio Ghibli movie, but as you turn to look at Beomgyu, you realize he’s more aptly fitted for the scenario.

His hair is fluttering slightly through the wind, and his side profile is so perfect that only an animation artist could’ve crafted it. Beautiful is the only word to describe him, and each glance you take becomes increasingly hard to look away from.

You like him. It’s not a realization that’s come from this moment, but rather a million moments beforehand. Whenever you try to pinpoint an exact moment, your mind runs blank, as if you were pre-programmed to have him in your heart since the beginning of your existence. You’d just been so immersed in convincing yourself that you didn’t that you never really accepted you did.

“Y/N,” you hear from his lips, “are you going to the spring dance?”

The spring dance is next week, and it’s all everyone has been talking about lately, especially Yunjin. Honestly, if the Jung Jaehyun asked you out (yes, you can finally differentiate between the multiple Jaehyuns), you wouldn’t shut up about it either, but you don’t have any interest in it otherwise. The only updates you hear are when you don’t tone out Yunjin in math (there’s only so much you can hear about his features), and you’re growing quite sick of the talk.

Mainly though, you’re just annoyed you have to go without a date. A certain someone always pops up in your mind when you think about the event, but you’re too shy to ask and he seems to be preoccupied with other things. Even if it’s going just as friends, you’d take the chance, but it doesn’t seem in your cards for the near future.

“Yeonjun is forcing me to. I’d much rather spend my Friday nights with a show, but it is what it is.”

“Oh, come on!” he protests, shaking his head, “it’s always super fun. You won’t regret coming.”

“I guess, but I don’t really know who to go with. Yeonjun has a date, and I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Beomgyu fishes something out of his pockets and holds it out to you. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a rectangular mango drink, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I know, I know, but it’s still driving me crazy that you hate mango. I want to be the person that changes your opinion on it, okay? Whenever you think of mango, don’t think of your parents, think of me!”

You roll your eyes as you grab the drink and punch the straw in. You don’t want to admit it, but the gesture is sweet, and already your negative thinking is rewriting itself to include positive memories with Beomgyu.

“Whatever,” you say, attempting to take a sip out of the straw only to find it stuck, “is there something wrong with your straw? Mine isn’t working.”

“No, there isn’t,” he replies, confusion settling across his face, “is it blocked? There might be something inside.”

Sure enough, you peek through the hole to see something white stuck in the straw, and you try your hardest to pull it out with your fingers. The texture is a little rough and thin, almost paper-like, but sadly you fail to get it out.

“Can you actually not get it out?” he asks, looking worried.

“Yeah, but it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll just get another straw after I get home.”

“This cannot be happening right now.” he mutters, grabbing it from you and trying his hardest to squeeze out the object, “Of course I fucked this up.”

“Beomgyu, it’s okay. Relax. It’s not that big of a deal,” you respond, trying to calm him down after seeing him get this worked up, “it’s just a drink.”

“But it’s not! Ugh,” he says, frustrated as he pulls out his phone, “you were supposed to be able to pull out the paper.”

“What are you talking about?”

He passes over his phone to you, and there’s a picture of a small piece of paper on it. When you zoom in to get a better look at the writing on it, you gasp.

“It takes two to mango, so will you be my partner?” you read out loud, looking at Beomgyu.

He smiles awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re asking me to be your date for the dance? Oh my god, yes!”

You hug him tightly, pressing your head into the crook of his shoulder. You don’t know if his intentions behind this are friendly or romantic, but the mere thought of being together, even just for a night, has you reeling. You feel so, so giddy as if you’re already on the dance floor and swaying in his arms.

You feel him sigh in relief, hugging you back.

“I’m so sorry I fucked up everything. It was supposed to be super cute—”

“Don’t worry about it. Even if you just asked me the question, I would’ve been happy. It was so creative though; how’d you come up with it?”

“I, um. I searched it up,” he replies, and you hear the bashfulness in his voice, “I just wanted it to be meaningful enough to us. I know that it’s unoriginal, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Even just you researching to find something this creative is meaningful to me.” you answer honestly, “I’m saving that straw forever, I swear.”

He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrate against you. It’s a comforting feeling, one you’ll hopefully experience at the dance next week.

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait,” he whispers, pulling you in a little tighter.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, holding onto him, “Me too.”

The dance is a little lame, but being here with Beomgyu makes it worthwhile.

Seriously, if you’d come alone, you probably would’ve ended up sitting in the corner and munching on the brownies (they’re actually tasty, you can’t even deny it). However, Beomgyu has made it his personal mission for you to have fun, which is why he pulls you onto the dance floor to vibe with the beat of the song.

“This is so high school,” you mutter, feigning annoyance, “what song even is this?”

“I think it’s ‘Good Boy Gone Bad’ by TXT.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“Who cares? Stop being a downer and let loose a little.”

Contrary to your dislike, you do end up dancing. The song has a peppy beat and the two of you lose yourself in it, but even as you forget all of what occupies your brain, Beomgyu still remains in your head.

You’ll never forget the sparkling expression on his face when he saw your outfit as he picked you up from your house or the way he turned up your favorite song as you sped along to the venue. You would pay a million dollars just to relive that moment again, laughing at each other’s singing and enjoying each other’s company, but you realize that you don’t need to experience past moments with Beomgyu when he constantly makes better memories with you. With Beomgyu, you like living in the present, and he makes you forget about special days in the past you had coined as ‘the best day ever’ because nothing could compare to the feeling of being by his side like this.

The song ends, leaving you all woozy and excited, but the feelings quickly shift away when a much slower beat starts playing. You don’t even have to ask for the song name, because Beomgyu is already whispering it into your ear.

“’Fairy of Shampoo’ by the same artist. They’re pretty good, right?”

You move to nod, but the action is long forgotten as Beomgyu wraps his arms around your waist. He’s staring you in the eyes, a silent request for permission, and your response is wrapping your arms around his neck in a similar manner. You sway, and Beomgyu follows your lead, but this time around, the only thing you’re losing yourself in is his eyes.

The soft, angelic singing and chatter around you are muffled as if everyone in the room has disappeared except you and Beomgyu. You’re in a trance, with the perfect feeling of his arms around you as if they were always meant to be there. It’s so easy to will yourself away from everything to focus his gaze that you should be concerned, but one look at his eyes can confirm he’s in the same boat.

Maybe friends can ask each other out to dances. Maybe friends can slow-dance together. However, you find it hard to believe friends can look each other like this in the eyes and pretend they don’t feel anything.

Before you know it, the air grows hazy, and the only thing that makes your vision clearer is leaning in closer to Beomgyu. Or maybe that’s what’s making you crazy in the first place, but you don’t care because you’re trapped in the magnetic pull he emits that drives you closer, and closer, and closer. You’re close enough to notice the small moles on his cheek and the faint cologne he wears that smells like jasmine. You can’t even tell if you’re moving anymore because the only action you’re focused on is the fluttering of his eyelashes and the pursing of his lips.

It takes your brain a while to register what he says next because his voice is husky enough to be covered by the music, but the mere fact that his voice dropped three octaves has your mind spinning.

“Do you want this as badly as I do?”

Your throat is so parched you can’t even speak, but you don’t need words to imply what you want. You nod, the tiniest nod that if he wasn’t so focused, he wouldn’t have seen it, but his eyes are solely on you and that’s enough confirmation for him. The last thing you see is him leaning dangerously close before your eyes flutter shut, but the moment is ruined as your phone rings from your pocket and startles you both.

You fumble with the device as he clears his throat, leaning back, and with wide eyes, you see that it’s your mother calling. You’re cursing her mentally for calling at the worst possible time, but one look at Beomgyu has him motioning you off the dance floor.

“Take it; it’s probably important. I’ll be right here.”

You smile tightly before rushing off the dance floor, finding a place near the entrance that’s much quieter than the center. From this position, you have a straight view of Beomgyu in the middle, but you’re blocked by a sea of people surrounding him. It reminds you just how many obstacles you have between each other, and you mentally berate yourself for being so careless and almost kissing him before answering the phone.

“Hello? Mom?”

“Oh honey, hi! Your Auntie told me you were at some school dance, are you having fun?”

“I am,” you whisper back, just now realizing how much you miss your parents sending you off to these dances, “but I miss you a lot.”

“Actually, I called you about that!”

“What do you mean?”

“Our business here is doing so well that another company wants to buy us and give us a huge amount of shares. This means we can move back home and still make a profit!”

Your mom goes on about the logistics, but all you hear is white noise ringing through your ears. You knew this moment would creep up on you, but you just didn’t expect it so suddenly, especially after sharing such an intimate moment with Beomgyu. God, Beomgyu. How can you even begin to tell him?

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Of course, you must be busy! I’ll call you later, okay?”

Your fingers shake as you cut the call, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. The room feels hazy once again, but this time, it feels suffocating. Your cheeks feel hot and you have no idea what to do, and all you can feel is Beomgyu’s gaze staring at you from across the room, boring into your eyes. All you can think is that he knows, and he hates you, and he’s going to feel so betrayed—

“Y/N? Are you okay?” you hear, and Yeonjun steps in front of you, blocking the connection between you and your crush.

“I- I need to go home. Please.”

You’re glad Yeonjun knows when to not be a nuisance, because all he does is nod wordlessly and clasp your palm, leading you to the car. You’re thankful that your cousin is actually a nice person deep down because he’s ditching his date and dropping his many it-boy moments just to take you home and let you cry on his shoulder. You try so, so hard not to look back because you know you’ll break down, but you can’t help what your heart wants. As you turn and make eye contact with Beomgyu, you see his confused and betrayed expression as he pushes past the people on the dance floor, but the crowd is too large, and he’s stuck between the masses. It’s bitter how these people once reminded you of obstacles, and now they’re exactly that, but you’re thankful because you’re sure you won’t be able to stop the tears if he talks to you right now.

As Yeonjun whisks you away in the dreary night, all you can hope is that Beomgyu remembers only the good moments between you, and not the worst. Maybe one day, just one, you hope he’ll forgive you, even though you know that you’ll never forgive yourself.

You have no heart to even attempt the history homework sitting on your desk.

It’s only been a week, but you feel like you went through five years of trauma from it alone. If it weren’t for Yeonjun, you would’ve locked yourself in your room the whole week and finished a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you showed up to class every day, draped in an oversized hoodie and making no means of eye contact with anyone. Any time you encountered Beomgyu, you tried your hardest to avoid it, even going as far as bargaining with your teacher to switch seats in history.

The only person you even talked to this week was your cousin. He was the only person you could confide in, probably because he was the only one who truly understood your current predicament. It’s silly, depending so much on the person who could use this as blackmail at any moment, but you have to say you’re a little grateful for him dragging you to school in the morning instead of leaving you to allow in the four walls of your bedroom.

However, even the motivation from Yeonjun can’t stop your bleeding heart. You feel like you’re going through hell and back, and with exams coming up your mind just isn’t in the right place. How long are you going to keep your homework sheets sitting on your table void of pencil markings? Even the mere act of reading the instructions has you tired, and all you can do is rest your head against the table and try not to let your thoughts drift off.

Even this homework reminds you of him. It reminds you of how you would goof off during your lectures, texting each other through the crevices of your desk, or how you would sit for long hours in the library and attempt to study, kicking each other’s feet beneath the table. Even now, you can hear him knocking on the door, asking you to open up and talk.

“Y/N, it’s Beomgyu!”

Okay, maybe that part isn’t your imagination.

Why is he even here? What business would he even want with you after you’ve wronged him so much? Your mind has no idea, but the only thing you’re listening to is your heart as you pull open the door and take in his presence.

He looks beautiful, like always. His existence is something that you want to cuddle into a ball and put in your pocket, yours to keep and cherish forever because he is simply the word soft personified. Today, however, he sports dark circles under his eyes and a paler shade of skin. What has made your teddy bear so sad? Is it your doing?

“Hi,” you whisper, and your hands itch to reach out and wrap him in a tight hug.

“Yeonjun told me what happened. I wanted to give you some space, but it’s torture without you.”

Now you’re confused. Why is he showing up at your door and giving you comfort? Isn’t he the one who has been wronged this whole time?

“You mean, you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be? It’s not your fault you need to move back. Sure, I’m sad about it, but this isn’t something you can control, right?”

Now, nothing stops you or your conscience as you wrap your arms around him, furrowing into his familiar scent as tears escape your eyes. You’ve done a lot of hugging recently, but this time, it feels like an eternity has gone by. You never want to let go of him or this moment, and you can even feel your mind memorizing every aspect of this moment.

You guess Beomgyu makes you feel that way. Mind and heart combined, with no conflict.

“You always know what to say,” you point out, sniffling.

“I’d hope so; I have to do it every Monday.”

You laugh, although it’s choked and dry from your crying, but as your head moves, you hear a crinkle from his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um,” he starts, grabbing the object out of his pocket, “they’re mango popsicles. I was going to try and bargain with you if this didn’t work out.”

“Hmm, well, I’m not really convinced yet,” you joke, motioning him to follow you and sit on your bed as he rolls his eyes.

Silence ensues for the next couple of seconds as you both open the wrappers and enjoy the delicacy. The flavor doesn’t even bother you anymore, because now when you think of mango, you think of Beomgyu. You think of his sweetness, his humor, and his bright sunshine personality that matches the color of the delightful fruit.

“Oh, Y/N, you have some juice dripping down your chin,” Beomgyu notices, pointing to the area.

“Where, here?” you ask, patting the left side and feeling its dryness, “or a little higher?”

“No, I- here,” he says, leaning closer with his thumb and brushing off the liquid.

You want to thank him, but as you look up into his eyes, you realize how imperceptibly close you two are. Suddenly, you’re thrust back to a week ago when you were in his arms, leaning into each other until you could feel his breath upon yours, but this time, there’s nothing stopping you. No phone, no crowd, and most importantly, no insecurities come between you two now, and your mind is clear as you lean in and latch your lips upon his.

If you were unsure of what mango meant to you before, you’re definitely sure it will remind you of Beomgyu now, because all you can taste is the mango on his lips. It’s like your mind has gone into overdrive as you move closer, and you can vaguely register him using his free hand to palm the back of your head and tilt it up. The atmosphere doesn’t feel hazy anymore; instead, it feels shy and awkward, as if you were two lovers learning the world together. Like everything with Beomgyu, it feels right, just so right, and you never want to leave because you are his wholeheartedly, and he is yours.

Until you register what’s happening, of course.

You pull away quickly, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Beomgyu’s lips are puffy, and you’re sure yours must mimic a similar appearance, but that’s the least of your worries.

“Beomgyu, I—”

“I love you,” he breathes out, and his voice is light and airy as if he can’t hold in the words anymore, “I love you so much that it kills me you’re leaving. I don’t know how to fix this pain, but what I can say is that I’ll try my hardest to be by your side. Every day I’ve spent with you has been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and being without you this past week has made me realize how much light will disappear from my life if you leave. I’ll take you in any way you’ll let me, even if it’s through late-night calls or sparse texts. Please be mine, please.”

He's begging you now, holding your hands within his and clutching tightly, but even the words you want to say are trapped in your throat. You can’t do it to him. You can’t force him to love you thousands of miles away and look forward to you when he has a whole future ahead of him. You may be burdened by the ghosts of your past, but he isn’t, and you can’t deprive him of the one thing that makes himself him: his sunshine.

“I’m so sorry Beomgyu. I can’t put you in that position.”

Even the tears that once hesitated to fall now escape freely as he nods, cradling your cheek. After all that’s happened, he’s still so understanding, and even though he has a tight smile on his face, he keeps on a brave front for you.

“I knew you would say that. It’s okay, we can just enjoy the last of our days together.”

“Don’t hold yourself back for me, alright?” you whisper, wiping the stray tears that you don’t want him to see.

He notices the tear stains on your cheeks anyway, wiping the wetness with the pads of his thumbs. You notice he doesn’t respond, but at this point, he doesn’t need to. Even though you’ve warned him against it, you know without a doubt that he’ll always be waiting for you, even with all your uncertainty.

The last bell of the year rings, but as your classmates bustle around you with joy and laughter, you don’t know what to feel.

Moving is a funny concept. You leave behind everything you know just to start anew, but unlike most people, you’ve finally gotten the chance to go back to the past. Your old friends, your old family, your old life. Months ago, you would’ve jumped for this opportunity, as many others would in your situation, but now you’re experiencing a bittersweet emotion. You can’t even deny it: this place has had a tremendous impact on you through the experiences it put you through, the people it made you meet, and the emotions it caused you to feel. Even just thinking about going away leaves a pang in your heart, but you suppose life is about these occurrences, whether they’re sad or happy, and you’ll just have to persevere through it like you always do.

You’re walking out to the parking lot when Beomgyu joins you. You’ve still been talking even after the dreaded incident weeks ago, especially since you studied together for exams, but your relationship since you rejected him hasn’t been the same. It’s like you’re tiptoeing around with each other, waiting for one another to break, but you’ve already broken before so you don’t know why it feels so fragile. Maybe it’s the tension in the air around your departure or the lack of definition within your relationship, but either way, it feels suffocating.

At least you’re grateful he hasn’t shut you out yet.

“So, how was your last day of school?” you hear, but this time you focus your eyes on the ground instead.

It feels too weird to look at him. It’s like you don’t have permission to admire his beauty anymore, so you rarely ever make eye contact with him. Instead, you focus on the gum he’s chewing, the one you know is mango-flavored but always so bitter. Maybe it was a sign you two were never meant to be.

“It was good. You know, tiring as always, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“Yeah, I get it. Are you going back home soon?”

Honestly, your parents haven’t been super transparent with you, but from their calls, you assume that you still have well into the summer before you move out. They sound busy wrapping up things, and they haven’t given you an exact date, but they have promised you they’ll be here soon. Like all things in your life, even your parting is uncertain, and that’s what you tell him.

“So, what I hear is that I can still terrorize you over the summer.”

You laugh, but it’s forced and uneasy. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, but honestly, you’ve gotten a little too used to it by now.

“I guess you could, Gyu.”

He stops you in your tracks by stepping in front of you.

“Look, I know we’re a little awkward right now, but I feel like I have to say this, or I’ll never get the chance. I’m so honored to have been your friend, and I’m going to miss you a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I’m sorry for putting you in so many awkward situations, but I hope you can remember the good parts when you think of me.”

You sigh, patting his head. If you were on good terms with him, you would’ve gifted him a hug, but you hope the small gesture can do your feelings enough justice.

“I’m gonna miss you too. A lot a lot,” you mimic, watching him smile, “so text me often, okay? I’m sorry for making things awkward too.”

He shakes his head, willing to argue in your favor, but before he can even start a car horn sounds from the parking lot. You crane your head to see a familiar vehicle, one that’s accompanied you throughout your lifetime, except this time, it’s adorned with a painted mango on the side.

“Mom? Dad?”

Your parents step out of the car, and your legs are moving you towards them before you can even register it. Video calls don’t do their beautiful faces any justice, and it feels so surreal as you stop in front of them, waiting for them to just be a figment of your imagination.

“Hey, sweetie,” your dad says, and that’s all it takes before you’re leaning into his touch, burrowing yourself into him as you would often do when you were a little kid.

You forgot how much pain you felt when they left you here. All this time, you’ve suppressed it, and only at night when you were in your room, half-asleep and overthinking, did you let your tears come to bay. You wanted to be strong for them because everything they did was for you, but it was hard not to lose sight of their eventual return and get lost in the lifeless emotions associated with their disappearance every waking day that passed. It took every ounce of strength in you to pick yourself up every day and pretend like you were fine, but although there were many factors that helped you mitigate those feelings, none of them could truly ever make the ache ebb away.

“Why are you here? I thought it would be a while,” you ask after you’ve calmed down and properly reunited with them, “are we moving back soon?”

“Actually, about that… we’ve changed our minds a little bit.”

Your mom holds your face in her palms, pinching at the skin on your cheek ever so slightly.

“Your aunt told us how happy you are here, and how you’ve grown so much from moving here. I know that losing your parents so suddenly must’ve had a huge impact on you, but if this place helped you with those struggles even just a little bit, then it must be worth staying here. We thought that you might like it if we stayed here permanently. What do you think?”

You can’t believe it. It’s as if the world has deafened and all you can hear is the ringing echoing through your ears because what they’re saying sounds too good to be true. Moving here? Permanently? Is life playing some sort of cruel joke on you?

“You aren’t joking, right?” you whisper, and all your parents can do is laugh as they shake their heads.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes as you die, but right now, all that flashes through your eyes are the memories you’ve made in your seemingly short time here. You remember sitting shotgun in Yeonjun’s car as he annoyed you on the way to school, texting Yunjin during math while you two try not to fall asleep, and teaming up with Taehyun while wreaking havoc on poor Soobin.

However, most importantly, you remember Beomgyu. From the curve of his lips to the rings on his fingers, from the walks home you’ve shared to your first and last kiss in your very bedroom, he’s always been with you wholeheartedly. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since that very first day when the boy with dark curls caught your watercolor eyes, and for the foreseeable future, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop.

When you turn to look back at him, he’s there. He’s always there, waiting for you no matter how far you go. Even if he is just a speckle in the distance, just the size of an atom, you are his nucleus and he revolves around you, chasing you until he breaks down into a black hole of nothing. Even now, as you stare at him from the parking lot, one look at you tells him everything he needs to know. He’s here, here before your eyes in a matter of seconds, and as your parents ask him who he is, you know that only the most perfect boy would respond with such a beautiful answer as he directly addresses you.

“I’m whoever you want me to be.”

You shake your head, unable to hide the smile that flits across your face. After a long, long time of shying away from Beomgyu, you’re finally ready to embrace the feelings he brings you, whether tears or smile lines.

“This is Beomgyu, my lover.”

Your bedroom is still bare with your whole life packed into boxes once again, but at least this time around, your walls are painted yellow again. However, instead of a sunny yellow, they’re more of a mango color, your mom going even as far as to say it’s the exact same hue as the mangoes they grew in Thailand, fresh and ripe. Honestly, you’re just glad you’re not sitting within the depressing beige color again, because why did you even convince yourself it made you happy?

What’s not fresh is the old carpet you and your boyfriend are sitting on, but sometimes you can appreciate the old things too. In fact, it’s somewhat comfortable as you lie in his arms, sprawled across the carpet with no looming future dangling over your head. It’s just you, your other half, and nothing more, enjoying your well-deserved summer break weeks after school has ended.

“I’m not ready for school,” you complain, liking the feeling of being illuminated by the bright sun peeking through your blinds, “I like sitting around doing nothing. Imagine how hectic it would’ve been if I actually moved back.”

Your statement is only half-true though, because there are many things awaiting you once school starts that you’re actually very excited for. For starters, you get to have your own article published in the newspaper, and you have a slight inkling as to what it’s going to be about. Also, you have many wonderful friends who will make your life a lot easier, so even though school is school, at least you’ll have amazing people by your side. Really, you’re just complaining for no reason.

“I’m just glad we won’t have to throw you a farewell party. I don’t think Taehyun or Soobin would’ve let me near Yunjin’s pool again.”

You smack his chest lightly, and he laughs, curling in closer to lay your head against his chest. You really should be unpacking your things, at least, that’s what you told your parents you’d be doing, but you can’t pass up the chance to cuddle with Beomgyu every time you get it. You both have been pining for each other for far too long anyway, so why waste any more time?

“Y/N!” you hear from outside the door, “I brought you food!”

You get up to let your mom in, but Beomgyu is already five steps ahead of you. Your mom gives him a warm smile because seemingly, your parents seem more smitten with him than you are. You can’t really blame them though; who doesn’t like Choi Beomgyu?

“Thank you for the mango, auntie!” he responds, and of course, the endearment has her reeling.

“I thought you two would be hungry after working hard,” she says, leaning over to peek through the gap between him and the door, “but it seems you two have done nothing at all. Oh well, you can eat it anyway. You have all the time in the world.”

You two really do, because as you make yourselves cozy on the carpet once more, bowls of mango in hand, it feels like time has taken a pause after all the misery it has put you through. You eat the slices wholeheartedly as you think, with Beomgyu brushing off the juice that escapes your mouth occasionally when the piece is too big. You’re glad that time is moving slowly because you want to savor every moment you have with him. He deserves it, and so do you.

“We should really start setting things up,” Beomgyu starts, “How long are you going to sleep with just four yellow walls and no decoration? That would be so depressing.”

“Hey, at least it’s less depressing than beige walls,” you grumble, “but even just being here makes me content enough to fall asleep. I have nothing to worry about this time around, especially when you’re just five minutes or a phone call away.”

Mere seconds pass before he’s leaning in to place a kiss on your lips, and of course, everything about him tastes extremely mango. Your malice for the fruit is far gone now, far, far gone because not only are your parents back, but also because Beomgyu is the only thing you think about when reminded of the flavor. However, your rollercoaster feelings for the fruit are the last thing on your mind as you lean in closer, placing the mango bowl beside you.

“You still hate mango, baby?” he whispers between kisses, and it takes everything in you to pull him back, reminding him that you two are supposed to be unpacking and not making out.

“Answer the question,” he whines, a cute little pout on his face that makes you five seconds away from forgetting your very own warning and kissing him breathless again.

“No, I don’t,” you finally answer, grabbing his hand and interlacing it with yours, “I love it now.”

He grins, and you decide to succumb to your desires, forgetting all sense of rationality when it comes to him as you press a kiss to his lips again.

“I love mango just as much as I love you.”

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 2/?

Prev | Next

TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE/ SUICIDAL IDEATION

Disclaimer: I don't know anything about Roy Harper except what I've learned through fandom and Wiki. Please excuse me if he is out of character. Roy accidentally finds Jason.

Roy couldn’t believe his eyes. Jason Todd stood a few feet in front of him. The same Jason Todd who died years ago. He had red hair instead of black, and his eyes were green instead of blue. He was taller and broader, and a kid was hanging to his leg.

Roy would recognize him anywhere, no matter how much he had changed.

(Jason’s death was the reason he fell to alcoholism and tried to commit suicide via Killer Crocodile.)

“Daddy, I want to get closer to the edge,” Lian said.

Lian had wanted to see Niagara Falls for her sixth birthday. He never imagined he would run into a dead boy.

Jason hadn’t noticed him yet. Roy had no idea what to do. It’s not as if he could Dick and say, “Hey, how have you been? Did you know your dead brother is walking around Niagara Falls with a kid in tow?”

Roy could imagine how that conversation would go.

“Sorry, sweetie, it’s too dangerous,” he answered his daughter a beat later. His little girl pouted. Roy couldn’t help but smile. He loved Lian so much it hurt sometimes.

Suddenly, the little boy holding on to Jason looked at Roy with eerie green eyes before tugging on Jason’s pants and pointing at Roy. Jason looked at them. Roy watched as Jason’s eyes grew in fear before he got the little boy and ran. Well, if that wasn’t confirmation, Roy didn’t know what was.

Roy didn’t want to leave Lian alone, so he let his old friend run from him. It seemed he had some favors to call.

____

Raven was the only person Roy could think would help him without wanting to spill the beans right away. Wally was Dick’s best friend and would tell him immediately that they found his little brother alive; Starfire was out of the picture for similar reasons. Garth wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret. Cyborg could go either way. And Donna would want to go to Dick without even investigating first. So, Raven it was.

 Once Roy explained who he saw and why he went to her, Raven agreed to help him.

She teleported them to Niagara Falls.

“There is a feeling of death here; it’s very strong.”

“Well, he did die. If he’s back…”

Raven shook her head, “It’s more than that. It feels like death magic but not malicious.”

Roy blinked. How was death magic not malicious?

Raven lifted him telekinetically, and they flew past the Canadian border.

Twenty minutes later, they landed in front of a little cottage in the middle of the forest. Jason was sipping a cup of tea on the porch on a rocking chair. He glared at Raven and Roy.

“If you wake my kid, I’m gonna kill you,” he threatened in a low voice. “What do you want, Harper? Did Dick send you?”

Roy blinked at Jason’s hard tone, and then what he said caught up to him.

“Dick, why would Dick send me? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Jason snorted.

“Of course, they didn’t tell the hero community about the failure of the Batfamily coming back,” he said bitterly.

Roy blinked and turned to Raven, who frowned. Then what Jason said hit him, “Wait, Dick knows you’re back?!”

An hour later, Roy knew everything, and he was fuming. Dick had no right to keep something like this from him. So Jason had come back angry and spiteful; who cared? He was better now. Roy could understand not telling the whole damned world, but he couldn’t have told Roy that Jason was back? Roy almost committed suicide because of Jason’s death!

“So, how does the kid factor into all of this?”

Jason drank the rest of his now cold tea.

“I found him when he got spat out through a portal. I couldn’t leave him. I know it sounds weird, but I have a connection with him. We’re similar.”

“Not similar,” Raven said, “the same. Whatever he is, you are, too.”

Jason smiled sadly, “We’ve been touched by death and came back different. He’s not fully human. He’s half ghost, half human. Please, don’t tell the Bats you found me. They’d take him away from me, and I don’t think I’d survive it.”

Raven put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and he felt a wash of calm come over him.

“Don’t worry; I know how you feel. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Me either, kid.”

Jason gave them a grateful smile. His eyes were suspiciously wet,

“Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence.

“So, when can we meet the tyke,” Roy asked.

Jason frowned, “When he wakes up. He doesn’t sleep enough, so I try to let him catch his Zs.”

“But I’ve been awake this whole time, papa,” a small voice said; no one was around.

Roy looked a bit spooked, and Raven looked surprised. Jason sighed.

“Danny, show yourself.”

A little boy with black hair and blue eyes appeared before them.

“Chum, you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep; I felt a weird spirit’s presence. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Danny looked at Raven.

“You’re not like me and daddy, but you’re not fully human, either. What are you?”

“Danny, that’s rude,” Jason scolded him.

Danny pouted, and Raven laughed.

“It’s okay, Jason, he’s just curious. I’m half-human, half-demon.”

“That’s so cool! Me and daddy aren’t fully human, either. We’re halfas—half-human, half-ghost.”

“Danny, I’ve already told you I’m not a halfa. I don’t have any powers.”

“Okay, whatever you say, papa,” Danny said in a sing-song voice. Jason sighed.

Suddenly, Danny turned serious and pierced Raven and Roy with an intense look, “You’re not going to tell those bad people about us, right? They hurt daddy.”

Both Roy and Raven looked at each other. Raven flinched when she felt Jason’s overwhelming sadness and grief hit her. He was fingering a scar he had on his throat. How had he gotten it?

“Danny-lad, I already told you; I hurt them first. It’s okay; you don’t have to be mad at them.”

Danny’s eyes turned an eerie shade of neon green that had Raven shivering in her skin. Jason’s eyes turned into the same shade in response.

“It’s okay, Danny,” Raven tried to reassure the kid, “Nobody will find out about Jason from us.”

Danny looked at her for a while longer before nodding.

“Good, they don’t deserve him.”

Jason sighed.

“C’mon, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Raven got up and followed the boys into the little cottage. She frowned as she felt a disturbance in the air. She looked south; something big was coming.

Hundreds of miles away, a green portal opened. A young teenage girl with red hair and glowing, teal eyes stepped out with a toddler in her arms. She was armed to the teeth.

“C’mon, Ellie, let’s go find our brother.”

Jazz is here! Is it a bit early, maybe, but I couldn't help myself. I chose Raven as the Titan to help find Jason because of her empath powers. She'd be able to understand Jason, and she's half-human like Danny and Jason. Jason is in denial that he is a halfa, but his powers will come in the future. We might not see the Batfam for two or three chapters.

@justwannabecat @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @vythika96 @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo

[snuggerudsz]

2 TIMES NICO HISCHIER DIDN'T KISSED YOU (AND THE ONE HE DID) l NH13

summary: two times nico hischier almost kissed his best friend and the one time he actually did it.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

author's note: hello!!! finally posting something for my man, there will be more coming for captain hisch so keep an eye out for that. likes and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated!!! thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoy it!!! :) <3333

1.

It was the day before your 16th birthday. The night, actually. There were only a few hours until midnight, officially starting your birthday. You and Nico had been friends since you were little, and the tradition of being each other first birthday wishes had started so long ago that you couldn’t remember a time when the two of you didn’t do it. Keeping your childhood tradition alive, you and Nico sat in your backyard, sharing a blanket to try 一 keyword: try 一 to preserve yourselves warm, fighting against the cold Swiss night. 

Slowly, you lower your head, laying it on Nico’s shoulder. It wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be touchy with each other, after all of the years you’d been friends, it was like second nature. You had never been as comfortable with anyone as you are with Nico. Which is why the silence of the moment didn’t bother you. 

For a moment, you turn your head to look at Nico, your best friend, partner in crime, and favorite person in the whole world. And he looks back, with his big brown doe eyes that make your heart flutter and your brain short circuit. And your faces are so close, your noses almost touching and you can feel his hot breathing on your face. For one moment, you swear he’s coming closer, alternating his eyes between your eyes and your lips. 

Until his alarm sounds loud. It’s midnight.

You two almost jump away from each other, wide startled eyes looking at each other.

“Happy birthday,” Nico says, an awkward smile gracing his lips.

You nod, saying thank you so quietly you’re not sure he heard you. But he did, Nico always listens to you.

2.

You had always known Nico was destined for greatness. He was the most hardworking, passionate, and dedicated person you had ever met in your entire life. However, it was still quite difficult to believe you really traveled all the way from your little part of the world in Switzerland to the US to watch the NHL Draft. But, if there’s a person in the world who deserves it, it is Nico, you know it. And when The New Jersey Devils take him 1st overall, you can’t believe it. You can feel your heart bursting with pride. Nico hugs you tightly and you whisper to him, telling him how proud you are. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life, how could it not? It’s Nico, your Nico, whom you’ve known since you were 2, and he was achieving his biggest dream. You were so happy for him. Still, there was this terrible feeling at the back of your mind. When he first left Valais for Bern, it was hard, but he was still in the same country. Then, he left for Canada, when the Halifax Mooseheads drafted him. And now, he’d just been drafted into the NHL, and it felt so much more real, and the unavoidable reality which Nico and you are never gonna live in the same country again dawned on you, while you were sitting there, watching him become a devil.

It takes a while until Nico has some time to talk to you and his family again, he has been giving interviews to what seems like every single hockey reporter in the world.  But when he finally gets to talk to all of you, he’s glowing, smiling so hard you wonder how his cheeks aren’t hurting. After talking with his family for a good while, you and Nico finally get some time just the two of you.

“Are you ok?” He questions, looking at you. Damned be Nico Hischier and his ability to read you, to always know exactly how you’re feeling. 

“Of course I am Ni. I’m so happy for you. So proud.” You answer, truthfully. “I’ll just miss you. But we’ll survive, right?” 

“Obviously. It’s me and you always, remember?” Nico lets a half laugh escape, smiling down at you, holding your right hand in his.

“Always, Neeks. Always.” You reply, looking up at him, interlocking your fingers with his.

You and Nico stare at each other for a few seconds, getting closer and closer until Katja calls you out from the other room for some more pictures.

+1

Summer was always amazing. Nico came home, and you’d make the most of the time you had together. This year the Devils’ had gone on to the playoffs, still ending their season short of a Stanley Cup, but it was still incredibly impressive what they had been able to do.  So, when Nico got to Switzerland, he definitely looked like he was more at peace with the way their season came to a finish, unlike previous years.  And it was probably one of the greatest summers you had in recent years. But not today. It is Nico’s last day before he has to go back to Jersey.

You had brunch with his siblings, and now you two were in his childhood bedroom. It was not your first time here; in reality, you probably had been in this room more than Nico himself if we’re being honest. Both of you were sitting in his bed, side by side, going through a box of old pictures Rino found a few days ago. There were so many memories, so many moments eternalized in those pictures. Nico and you had been laughing at the faces you made, at all of the things you’d been through together. 

You couldn’t pinpoint the moment you threw your legs on top of his, or even the moment you two had gotten so close. But when you noticed, you were almost on top of Nico. Truth be told, Nico had noticed. He always did when it was you. He knew everything about you. He knows that your favorite color is lilac, that you play with your bracelet and rings when you’re nervous, that your favorite subject was chemistry because it made you feel smart, and how you always hide your smile with your hands when you laugh 一 which Nico firmly believes should be a crime, because how dare you hide your smile? 

So, he noticed. And he had been fighting with himself for around twenty minutes now because you look way too good not to be kissed, but he was so scared. You are one of the most important people in his life. It had been (Y/N) and Nico for 22 years, he couldn’t lose that. It was very difficult to ignore the urge to kiss you, hold you, and tell you about how much he loves you, how he has been in love with you since you were 14, and how he has tried so fucking hard but he will never find anyone like you. It was bordering on impossible. Until it was impossible and, in a strike of courage, a second of bravery, Nico Hischier finally kissed you. Both his hands holding your face, while you, after moving on from the shock, reciprocate the kiss, one of your hands in his neck and the other in his hair. 

Nico kissed you slowly. He was kissing you like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He smiled into the kiss, finally kissing the girl he always wanted. His heart was missing beats and he felt his hand couldn’t bring her close enough to him. Somewhere in the universe all of the stars could be burning out, the sky could cave but all he cared about was how she tasted and the warmth of her skin against his. Neither of you had ever felt so alive and you bith know this is the start of something beautiful.

[infinitywrites]

I Didn't Expect You Part 3 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 2) (Masterlist) (Part 4)

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups while Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears A LOT, 4th of July party, THIRST, Cam Cameron, Taylor Jewel, Nicole (sorry to this Queen), Gigi, Marisa and girlfriend, Dara, Conrad's friend Danny (made this character into my own thing), hints of Belly/Jeremiah, I don't know shit about sports

word count: 4,058

___________________________________________

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

It was finally here; the reason we'd all come back to Cousin's this summer at all. Susannah's famous 4th of July party was underway in all its glory despite the setbacks of the past year. Everyone had spent the day before running errands and putting up decorations, preparing appetizers and double checking the rest of the seafood catering while the woman of the hour sat on her chaise lounge and orchestrated it all to perfection. I barely talked to Belly and Steven that day let alone Conrad but it wasn't awkward when we were sent on a few errands together or standing side by side chopping veggies again. We all had a common purpose and it felt good. The five of us joined Belly on her night swim before bed that night to clean off the remnants of a productive day.

I pulled out my black swimsuit from the top drawer the next morning and was stopped in the doorway to the bedroom by Belly. "What is that?"

I looked at her for a second, confused before answering, "I'm gonna change into my suit after I shower." I attempted to leave again but she wouldn't move. Belly shook her head and muttered a handful of no no no's. I sighed dramatically, "What's your issue, girly?"

"Why did we go shopping for new bikinis if you aren't gonna wear yours? I learned about complimenting colours for you and look!" She rushed into the bedroom, pulled out the purple one that Taylor had treated her to for her birthday and the coral one hidden at the bottom of my top drawer. Belly held them up together to show me and I could tell she was moments from an adolescent tantrum. "Come on, it's the 4th and they're so pretty! Don't make me do it alone."

"Wear your Speedo with me then!"

"If you brought a cuter one piece, I'd compromise but you only brought two suits and only one of them is cute." She shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world and she's biding her time until I gave in.

She wasn't not wrong but that doesn't mean I made it easy for her. "What has Taylor done to you? We're here for less than a week, what do I need more suits for?"

"For the party, Y/N! You brought this one for the party so don't back down now."

I took the first step and grabbed it from her hands at least as I contemplated. "I feel kinda slutty…"

Belly translated, "Which means you look hot in it, amazing. I agree."

"Who are you right now?"

"Make sure you tell Taylor, she's gonna be so proud of me." She turned away from me to rustle through her drawers and assemble her outfit.

"Belly. It's a family party."

"Other people will be there! Jere said Cam's coming, Dara, Marisa and her girlfriend and then Conrad said something about Danny too. I invited Nicole but she said she wasn't sure and then my dad should be here with Taylor any minute. Lots of people not related to us." She wasn't even looking at me anymore and I didn't know if she'd just gotten good at this or she'd realized that she'd always had me wrapped around her little finger.

I sighed, "If I bring this with me, can I please shower now?"

Belly tosses the next words over her shoulder, mood changed on a dime from her dramatic pout. "Hurry up! Everyone will be here soon."

I groaned dramatically to try and get a final rise out of her but she was in her own world, discovering the perfect holiday fit.

Taylor did congratulate Belly when she arrived even when I insisted I hadn't made my mind up yet on what I was wearing under my dress. It was fun getting ready with the girls again, trading new makeup hacks and exchanging jewelry and shoes like we'd always done in the summers. There were last minute adjustments to our outfits only caught by an objective opinion. We'd all decided that red, white and blue was out this year and we committed to pink, purple and green instead. Taylor said they were meant to stand out and own it. I just always hated red against my skin tone.

I was the last one to get downstairs to greet Uncle John and the 'debs' as we affectionately called them since last summer. Susannah was set up on the outdoor couch in a floppy white sun hat and linen set that made her look like she should be vacationing in someone more tropical. The group of us had perfected the unspoken rotation of checking in with her, refilling her drink or keeping her snacks stocked. She seemed quite happy to lay around and watch the party unfold before her eyes.

Belly dropped her jaw in a silent scream when she saw me in my coral bikini covered up by my sheer white cover dress and squealed as she clapped her hands together, "See? Compromise!"

I just rolled my eyes and prayed no one was paying attention to her insanity. "Yeah, yeah. You look cute too." Her and Taylor were the cut off shorts sisters and they worked it.

The food was incredible, the decorations held up in the breeze and it seemed like we'd pulled it off. We'd managed a normal but perfect set up for Susannah's favourite holiday.

"I probably shouldn't have fucked Liam Meyer again but other than that hot girl summer is a go." The group of girls were sitting by the pool, dipping their feet in or laid back in the lounge chairs while Steven and Jeremiah were already swimming around and dunking each other. I'd always liked Nicole for the most part (if I forgot about her nasty revenge streak) but I would have liked to know less about her sex life. I was the only one though because the rest of the girls were giggling and eager to hear more stories from her.

Belly agreed, "I hear you. I swore to myself I wouldn't get tied down this summer."

Nicole looked surprised but impressed and Taylor smiled at Belly happily, "She's branching out from the Fisher family this year, right Cinderbelly?"

Belly shoved her arm and looked around to see if anyone heard. "Shut up! But…yeah, I guess."

"Good for you, girl. No need to settle for one summer boy when there's lots to choose from…at this party alone." Marisa's eyes were across the pool where Cam Cameron and Danny walked into the yard and waved their hellos around. The girl's attention was distracted by them for a moment.

Belly laughs, "I meant more like eating as much ice cream as I wanted and skipping shaving my legs a few days in a row."

Nicole looks at her friends before nodding, "I mean…that's cute too."

"Hot girl summer can mean whatever you want, Bells." I couldn't hold it back but tried to keep my tone as light as possible and Taylor shot me a grateful smile.

Nicole looked right at me like I must have read her mind, "Exactly. Mine just means the sampling platter of the finest dick that Cousin's Beach has to offer."

Her eyes focused over my shoulder and her mischievous smile grew as she spoke. The girls facing her way giggled loudly and I turned to look at what they saw. It was all the guys climbing out of the pool, looking fucking good because of course they did. I wasn't completely oblivious no matter what Taylor thought. Except Steven because gross but he was definitely being looked at by everyone that wasn't his blood relative. Conrad must have come out of hiding too because there he was, right in the middle of the group pushing the wet hair out of his eyes and laughing at something his friend said. Danny Wilder, who was tall and broad and looking damn good this summer.

I didn't even notice how my head tipped to the side until Taylor smacked my arm and gasped a wicked laugh. "OhmiGod, she's human after all!"

I laughed, "Shut up! You know what? Apparently I'm the only one with balls too." I got up and shrugged my shoulders at them before making a beeline to refill my drink and grab two towels before I spotted Cam and gently hip checked him to get his attention.

He was talking to Danny but quickly flashed his wide smile, "YN!"

I handed them each a towel and smiled back. Danny muttered a quick thanks before being dragged away by Conrad. I thought I heard him complain about why he didn't get towel service. I refocused my attention, "I'm so glad you came."

"Me too. Mrs. Fisher hosts the best parties."

"Good to know you're still as smart as you are sweet." He blushes and smiles. I stepped a bit closer to him and lowered my voice so hopefully he'd be the only one to hear. "Hey, I hope this isn't weird but I didn't get a chance to say anything after you and Belly–"

The poor guy looked so worried for a second, "Oh, that's totally cool now. Belly and I are good."

"No, that's what I mean. You were so great to her in every way and when– Just as someone who loves her and worries about her, you couldn't have handled that situation better. So thank you."

He shrugs as his smile spreads across his face again. "Ah, I got a good mom."

"Never change, Cam Cameron." I held his forearm gently and shook him in the mock threat.

"I'll remember that, Y/N. Thanks."

I nodded, "Can I get you anything? There's frozen virgin margaritas this time."

That sparked his interest. "Oh, actually…"

"Right? My idea and I'm very proud." I walked him over to the drinks table and swore I could feel a prickling on my neck. I looked over my shoulder to check my surroundings but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

The gang started to mingle a bit more after I broke the ice and I saw Cam giggling at something Dara said, Taylor and Steven were essentially beating each other up and if it wasn't so quintessentially them I might have worried. Jeremiah was sitting next to Belly on a lounge chair, trying to cheer her up no doubt. He'd always had a sixth sense for when she needed it most and he'd perfected how to make her smile. He was holding her hands in his lap and her smile was starting to light her face back up. I was smiling at the display when I went to find my own seat and got a glimpse of Nicole trailing her fingers up and down Conrad's abs. I took back what I thought earlier; she had steel ones.

Danny glanced in my direction and we exchanged quick smiles before he looked back at Conrad, who didn't look as happy about Nicole's bold moves as I expected. Next thing I knew, Danny was leaning against the table in front of me and when I looked back in Conrad's direction, he was shooting daggers of betrayal through his eyes at his friend who'd abandoned him. Danny Wilder was either stone cold or completely oblivious.

"Hey." Definitely oblivious if I judged that sweet smile correctly.

"Hi." I couldn't help but smile back again.

"I just, uh, wanted to say thank you for the towel. I didn't know your hostess skills were at the 'anticipation of needs' level." Just when the smile was drifting off my face, it came back with a vengeance.

"I mean, I was taught by the best." I gestured towards Susannah on her couch throne and noticed Conrad looking over his shoulder at us with a look of bewildered disgust. He was such a fucking drama queen and all it really made me want to do was flirt with his cute friend more.

Danny's focus was steadfast, unlike my own and it was exhilarating. He deserved my undivided attention. "That's true. You could pass it down the family line or charge for your services."

My eyes narrowed but the smile didn't leave my face, "You wanna pay me to bring you a towel?"

He paused and contemplated, "Yeah, that sounded way better in my head." The thing about Danny was that he was smart, as smart as Conrad or Steven but he wasn't trying to prove anything. If he said something stupid, his ego was never bruised and he was the first one to laugh at himself, not unlike sweet Cam Cameron who embraced his awkwardness and seemed to grow more into his own confidence every day.

I decided to throw him a bone, "How's school?"

He took a deep breath, "It's…a lot but I knew that going in. I mean, I love it so…"

"You're lucky." The sincerity between us was refreshing. Conversations with him had always been easy.

"Actually, I'm playing a little around Cousin's if you wanna come check it out. Conrad's supposed to play backup if he decides to get off his ass this summer." The idea piqued my interest. I could never call myself a baseball fan but baseball players…

"I never agreed to that!" At the mention of his name, Conrad yelled his interruption and practically galloped over to where we stood.

He claimed his territory by slinging his arm around Danny's shoulders and plastering on a smile that didn't reach his eyes right in my direction. "Besides, what the fuck are you guys talking about me for? I thought you were flirting."

We were embarrassed for exactly two seconds before we exchanged exasperated gestures at Conrad's fuckery. Danny shoved him and I rolled my eyes, "Fuck off, bro."

Conrad laughed in his direction, "Jeez, sorry. Y/N is leaving on Monday anyway. So too bad, so sad."

Danny's face falls in disappointment, "Shit, really? I thought you guys usually stayed for the summer."

I shrugged and regretted the short term plans for the first time since I'd gotten there. "Yeah, it's just been a busy year."

Danny nodded in understanding and Conrad looked between us before shouting at the top of his lungs, "Who's down for chicken?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You hate chicken." Everyone around them was hooting and hollering in agreement.

"No, you hate chicken. Let's go!" His crazy eyes had gotten out of control and I wasn't convinced he didn't suggest it just to piss me off. So I sat down on the pool's edge in protest and Danny asked if he could join me. We watched the first few rounds and I decided it was a way better game to watch than to play. No bruises on your arms or thighs from overzealous team members and I could even stay dry if I wanted.

Taylor tried to claim Steven at one point but he dodged her, "Not this time, Taylor. I want a fighting chance." He swam over to my direction and I sighed. He smiled expectantly, "Come here, you."

"You know I'm not good at this game."

"You're better than Taylor."

Taylor splashed him, "I can't believe you're being mean right now." She swam away and I resigned myself to my fate.

Steven splashed Taylor back but he was too close to Danny and we got sprayed . "Shit! I'm an idiot, sorry guys." I stood up to take my cover dress off before I slid into the pool. I saw Danny wave Steven off as he laughed.

I splashed him back gently and smiled, "It's fine. Go ask Cam if he's down."

"Oh, excellent idea."

I shouldn't have been surprised that it ended up being a chicken tournament in the end. There were too many varsity athletes at this party. Belly and Conrad alone could have been the driving competitive force so when I kicked him in the chest on accident, he said he was making it his mission to take me out. Jeremiah and Belly were a formidable team which surprised no one no matter how much shit his brother gave him. The teams weren't set at first but the strongest pairs stuck together after a while. Cam and Dara bowed out early due to weak arms and bad balance, their words, but they were giggling when they admitted it. Belly was determined to get Marisa and her girlfriend, Sarah eliminated as soon as possible which took a while but in true Conklin fashion, was a success. Taylor had abandoned the whole thing for snacks and I was so jealous.

Next up was Conrad and Nicole against Steven and I and as much as I wanted to do my best for Steven, expectations were low. Cam had taken up the mantle of announcer while Danny handled the scoreboard and refereeing. Nicole and I climbed onto the boys shoulders and looked at each other to exchange a friendly smile.

"Ooh! Here, let me help you with that." Nicole brushed Conrad's wet bangs from his forehead and he muttered a thanks. It looked like him and Steven were having a silent conversation.

"I thought you quit football last year, Con? I swear I've got more wiggle room up here than last year." She then made her point by wiggling her hips in place. The stones.

My brows raised against my will, I stifled a chuckle and tried to cover the reaction by joining in, "Funny, I think you lost weight, Stevie."

"If you think I won't dunk you right now…" Steven threatened as Conrad laughed at his expense.

Cam made his round announcement and read off the current score from Danny's phone. I squared myself on Steven's shoulders and took a deep breath while the boys shit talked until it got ridiculous.

"I'm gonna make you hate this game even more than you already do, Y/N!" Conrad spat and I just stared back at him for a second before I heard Cam yell 'GO!'.

I almost had that shit in the bag, Steven laughing maniacally, and Conrad must have known it too because all of the sudden when Nicole was starting to tip, I was distracted by a ticklish feeling on the bottoms of my feet under the water. I tried to squirm away while concentrating on the game but ultimately, I squirmed right off Steven's shoulders and into the water.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Steven exclaimed in defeat and went to complain to Danny and Cam.

"You fucking cheater…" I came up from the water and spluttered. Conrad was laughing and high fiving Nicole.

Next thing I knew he was holding his hand out to me, "Come 'ere. I'll try and give you a fighting chance. You're embarrassing yourself at this point."

I scoffed at his offer, "Fuck off, I took Taylor down!"

I had no intention of replacing Nicole on his team but he grabbed me around the middle and dragged me along with him as he nodded placatingly, "There's the energy we need! Keep that up."

I wondered if Nicole had told him she wanted an out because when I looked around the pool I saw her getting out entirely.

Conrad whistled, "Jere! You and me, let's go. Pick your best fighter." The fucker wasn't wrong and we did beat Belly and Jeremiah. It was the first time I knocked Belly off balance but I still didn't know what Nicole was talking about, Conrad wasn't any bigger or stronger this summer. There were better ways to hit on him.

In the end, the championship went to Belly and Jeremiah even after mine and Conrad's temporary victory. They both shoved it in Conrad's face mercilessly and I couldn't help but enjoy every second. He called me a traitor when I wasn't shy about how much joy it gave me to see him lose even if I was right there along with him. Luckily it didn't trigger a bad mood like it might have done a few years prior and we all celebrated with crab legs and cake.

I was tossing my paper plate into the trash when Danny found me again equipped with puppy dog eyes, "I feel bad."

"Cause I lost the chicken tournament? Don't. Conrad's the one who needs someone to help nurse his war wounds." I nodded in his direction where he was chugging a margarita.

Danny looked back at him and chuckled softly, "Oh, believe me I know."

Conrad called from a few feet away, "I'm still pissed at you for dropping the ball!"

His focus turned back to me, "But that's not why. You asked me about school and that idiot interrupted before I could reciprocate. So are you excited? Stanford, right?"

I was surprised he remembered. "Good memory. I'm excited, I'm just also…trying not to think about it at all, you know? I don't wanna freak myself out."

"Oh, no. Believe me. That's smart. It's a lot of pressure and you gotta move to the west coast on top of everything." He nodded and blew out a breath.

I narrowed my eyes as my smile grew, "Are you saying, hot shot pitcher destined to go pro, Danny Wilder, was nervous about starting at Northeastern?"

Danny blushed and it looked good against his tan skin. He tried to laugh through it but before he could respond Conrad poked his head between us again. It was inevitable.

"Did he tell you that he sweat through his new uniform in the first practice?" Danny's shoulders slumped as his head turned towards Conrad's grin. "Honestly, bro, you should probably get that checked out."

I just focused my gaze at the grass for a moment before I tore into Conrad again. But it wasn't necessary.

Danny squared his shoulders as he looked at his friend, "You're just pissed because you gave up your football scholarship and went pre med instead. Not to mention your fastball was always a half second behind mine." Danny shrugged at his expense and I saw the moment Conrad froze. He scoffed and pushed his friend too hard to pretend it was a joke anymore.

My eyes closed as I sighed and I was treated to the sight of poor Danny's bewildered face when I opened them, calling out to his friend. "Connie, come on, man…"

We watched him stalk back into the house. "Ignore him. He's been like that for a while."

Danny was still focused on Conrad's path, "Do you think…? He knows he's a great ball player. I swear, I say that shit to him all the time."

I did my best to reassure him, "I know. You didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

He finally looked back at me and sighed. "Okay. Only because you said so."

"Wow. Some power I have." The spirit of our back and forth had lost most of its momentum.

"I'd say but uh, could you go check on him anyway? Maybe I'm just soft but I'm gonna feel shitty until he comes back and I think you could convince him." His brown eyes were pleading and it was so unfair. He was pulling a Steven.

I scoffed a laugh and meant to say under my breath, "Why does everyone think I'm the Conrad whisperer all of a sudden?"

Danny furrowed his brow in confusion, "Sorry?"

I mentally slapped myself out of my own thoughts and nodded in his direction. There was no way I was ever getting out of this. "Only because you're such a good friend. He barely deserves you."

The sincerity in his voice was so pure it hurt. "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment…I think." A real smile came out at the end and it brought out mine too.

"You should."

"If it helps, tell him I'm an idiot and his arm was always better than mine." Danny pauses for a moment, "Which isn't true but…" He made a shushing gesture and I laughed softly.

"Yeah, not a chance. I draw the line at inflating his ego."

His eyebrow quirked up, "But not mine?"

I debated with myself for a moment, "Uh, to be determined, I guess."

Danny hummed, "Okay. Good luck."

The laugh that escaped my lips wasn't as sincere as he was as I focused on the sliding door, "I'm gonna need it."

___________________________________________

Next

author's note: I hope you enjoyed part 1 of 4th of July! I ended up having to cut in half but that means part 4 is coming so soon! I'm making shit up about sports and other things I don't know a lot about in this fic and I've accepted it so I hope you can join me 😅. Thank you again for the support 💙💚💛🧡. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @stylesxroyalty @fandom-addict404

[wooataes]

Pretty Coincidences (Part One)

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Strangers to ??? AU, angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of plane crashes, swearing

Summary: Choosing to run away from your problems on an impromptu trip to Italy may be the best decision you’ve made in your life thus far.

A/N: a belated birthday fic for the beautiful Jeonghan and also a belated birthday fic for my fave Carat friend Zan 💜

Masterlist

Part Two?

To say you were heartbroken was an understatement.

You feel almost dead inside as you sit in the backseat of your Uber, unshed tears tempting you to break the flood gates. How the fuck did you get here, in an Uber on the way to Incheon Airport running away from your responsibilities and problems?

The answer was Geumjae.

Forty eight hours ago, you were happy. You were happy and in love with your seemingly loving boyfriend of four years, Geumjae, in the talks of buying an apartment together and Geumjae planning to pop the question to you this coming Christmas in front of both your families. That was, until, you decided to take the afternoon off from your office job, feeling unwell and in all honesty, wanted the comfort of your boyfriend and your bed.

Instead of finding your loving boyfriend making soup for you in your apartment, you were greeted to the sounds of aggressive lovemaking coming from your personal bedroom. That scumbag was using YOUR bed in YOUR apartment to sleep with other women?! No fucking way.

Now, you’re not a pushover or a pussy. On the contrary, you proved to yourself that you’re the opposite; storming into your bedroom and throwing out your new ex boyfriend and his flimsy little side-piece, who you vaguely recognized as your now ex-best friend, who was trying to stammer some sort of apology. You didn’t hear her as she spoke though, only throwing both him and her out of your apartment with nothing but the clothes on their backs, which at that moment, was none at all, leaving them to rush to his car as quick as possible without being seen, as you curled up on the living room floor in hysterics.

After a long night of tears, a whole tub of ice cream, half a bottle of wine and burnt clothes, photos and bedsheets, at the ripe time of 2:43am, you feel the sadness within you seep into a seething anger.

Screw this guy! You don’t need him! You can do a lot better and deserve someone who will love and treat you right! Who else can treat you better than yourself?

In a half-tipsy wine drunk state, you grab your laptop and start typing travel options in your search bar.

You had always dreamed of wanting to go on a trip to see Italy ever since you met Geumjae, and for four long draining years, your requests were always rebuffed with a ‘I can’t afford it’ or ‘why don’t we try local?’ Well screw that. You’re newly free and have the funds saved, as well as PTO from your job. After sending a long and misspelled message to your boss, you rise from your spot on the floor to march into your room to pack your bags.

Forty eight hours later, you were miserable, angry and betrayed by two of the closest people you know, but you also felt surprisingly free, as if a weight had been lifted off your chest as you stepped inside Incheon Airport to make your way to your flight to Italy.

You settle into your seat with a tired sigh. For once, you’re actually happy you got seated in an Emergency Exit row. You’re not as enclosed as the others which means more leg room, and instead of having two people beside you, you only have one. Double win. The less people you have to interact with, the better. You hope that the unlucky person who was destined to be sat beside you isn’t a talker; hopefully they are just as tired and done with the world as you.

You take a quick glance at your reflection from your front facing phone camera, wincing at the miserable girl you faced. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, several strands having found their way out of the loose hair tie securing your locks and falling over your shoulders haphazardly. You have massive bags under your eyes, which isn’t surprising since you have barely slept since you found your trash ex. You hope that you’ll be able to catch up on your sleep during the twelve hour flight to Italy.

After heaving another sleepy sigh, you lift your head to the side to see a hooded figure placing a bag into the overhead locker before sitting down carefully beside you and pulling his hood back to ruffle his fluffed up hair out of his eyes. Your cheeks tinge a dusty pink as you take in the mystery man’s handsome good looks, suddenly feeling self conscious at your appearance. After giving the gorgeous man a small smile in greeting, (which he returns without hesitation) you shrink slightly into your seat, your brain beginning to work overtime as you feel an overwhelming urge to apologize about your half assed looks. The man is in an almost identical outfit to yours, but you can’t help but resent your new seatmate at how much better he looks than you. Then again, he probably hasn’t had his heart ripped out of his chest and then stomped on by his ex-girlfriend within the last two days. You were so consumed in your own self deprecating thoughts you didn’t notice the pretty man looking at you expectantly.

“Sorry, did you say something?” You blink, eyes wide.

“That’s okay.” The man smiles. You blush. Dang, why did he have to be so pretty? “I was just asking if you had enough room there.” He gestures to the armrest between you both. “I can scoot over a little bit if you need.”

“O-oh.” You stutter, shaking your head quickly. “No, you’re fine, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” You nod, giving him a little smile. “I will apologize in advance though, I am 100% going to sleep for this flight.”

“Damn,” he sighs dramatically. You tilt your head in questioning. “You’re going to sleep and let me be the only one to have to save the plane and all these passengers if a disaster happens?”

You’re caught off guard as a giggle passes your lips, your smile growing as the man chuckles with you. You didn’t know how badly you needed to have a laugh.

“I do apologize,” you hum. “But getting my beauty rest is more important than the well-being of the plane.”

It’s the stranger’s turn to laugh along with you, and you feel relieved that the joke lands.

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.” He nods thoughtfully. “Did you need to be woken from your beauty rest when the meals come by?”

You blink in surprise. How thoughtful. “Uhh.. if it’s no trouble?”

“None at all.” He’s surprisingly chirpy at this hour of the morning. “We are the backbone of this flight. We need to keep our strength up.” He winks at you and smiles as you laugh again.

“Fair point.” You nod gently as you fasten your seatbelt, the flight crew beginning to prepare you for takeoff.

You wait for a moment to see if Pretty Man will continue the conversation, but when he settles in and starts looking for movies on his tv, you let your eyes flutter shut, sleep taking over you before you even feel the plane take off.

You feel yourself being shaken gently an hour later as you stir, rubbing at your eyes with a little yawn. Pretty Man is smiling warmly at you.

“Hey.” He mumbles. “Sorry, they’re giving out breakfast.”

“S’fine.” You yawn again, smiling politely at the flight attendant as she passes your meal over. “Thanks for waking me, uhh..”

“Jeonghan.” Pretty Man - Jeonghan offers, and you nod with a little smile. “You’re welcome…”

“Y/N.”

Your eyes open slowly, yawning out as you start to take in your surroundings around you, the PA system announcing that the descent into Rome will begin within the hour. You sit up slightly and run at your eyes tiredly. Your eyelids still feel heavy, but after having slept for a solid 10 hours, only having been woken up from Jeonghan to eat in between with minimal conversation, you feel like you’ve rested enough.

“Did you manage to keep the plane in one piece while I slept?” You joke, Jeonghan chuckling in response.

“Only barely.” He sighed dramatically, hand on his chest. “I think you owe me for the next flight.”

“I think I do.” You humor him as he laughed.

“So, what brings you to Italy?” He asks after a moment of silence as you glance out the little window beside you.

“Mid-life crisis?” You offer with a laugh. Jeonghan only raises his eyebrows in concern. “Long story short,” you start fiddling with your fingers, nibbling your lip. “Just got out of a long term relationship and I’m long overdue for a holiday. So, I just packed up and left for Rome to forget about the real world for a while.” You wince, not even looking at Jeonghan to know that he’s giving you a look of pure pity.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that.” He frowns.

“Ah, it’s fine.” You shrug. It wasn’t. Not in the slightest. “Was probably for the best.” You’re lying, you know you are. “What about you?”

“Ah,” he rubs at the back of his neck. “A friend of mine offered for me to go on a trip here with him. He flew out a few days ago, so I’m meeting him here.”

“That sounds exciting.” You smile as he hums in agreement.

“Definitely.” He smiles back. “Well, I hope that Rome treats you well.”

You hope it does too. “You too.”

It could just be your excitement, but you truly think that the Italian air is just as healing to you as the place itself. After parting ways with Jeonghan and making your way to your hotel right in the middle of the bustling city of Rome, you think you can feel the cracks in your heart begin to heal, if only slightly.

You take in a deep breath as you walk along the pavement that runs through the city of Rome, taking in the sights of small local stalls selling jewelry and knickknacks, a content smile on your face. You’ve been here for only a day but you feel more like yourself than you have been for the last four tiring years. You adjust the strap of your handbag over your shoulder, fixing the sleeve of your flowy floral dress as you let the sunshine warm your body. Your phone has been left behind in the hotel room, having been blown up since you have landed in the foreign country from your ex. The messages were deleted as soon as they were received and the numbers have been swiftly blocked by you, only providing updates to your parents and your boss that you arrived safely and you will contact them if anything new happens.

You lift the disposable camera that sits around your neck by a strap up to your face, snapping a quick photo of a gelato stand on the corner, your smile growing as your stomach rumbles. You could use something sweet.

“Buongiorno,” you speak quietly, stepping up to the man behind the gelato stand. The man smiles back at you as you take a nervous breath. “Uhh… vorrei un gelato piccolo in cono, per favore.” You smile hopefully, hoping that you didn’t just accidentally insult him.

You release a breath as the man smiles happily at you, leaning down as he begins to take out a cone and ice cream scoop, making your gelato with precision.

“Grazie!” You beam as you pass him your money, taking the cone gratefully. You bow your head in thanks to further show your appreciation, and the man chuckles, bowing his head back.

As you turn, you let out a yelp as you run into a body behind you, almost causing you to drop your new cold treat. Luckily, you’re able to compose yourself quickly and bow your head just as fast.

“I’m so sorry!” You pause before your brain catches up. “U-uhh.. m-mi scusi!”

“Y/N? Is that you?” A soft voice responds, and you freeze.

You lift your head quickly to the owner of the voice, your eyes widening as you see an all too familiar face smiling excitedly at you. His chestnut brown hair is pushed back, his bright smile being just as blinding as when you first met him all those years ago in middle school, who went on to be your good friend for five years before life caught up with you and you naturally drifted apart.

“Seokmin? Lee Seokmin?” Your smile grows with him as he almost immediately scoops you up into his arms, spinning you around in circles. You squeal out a laugh, your free hand holding onto his shoulder. “Yah!”

“What the heck?!” He laughs with you, squeezing you tight once he places you back onto the ground. “What are you doing here?!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” You giggle happily.

“I’m on a trip with a hyung of mine! We both had some time off and wanted to go somewhere warmer.” He chirps, looking you over with a smile. “What about you? Where’s Geumjae?”

You freeze at the mention of his name, biting down on your lip. “Um.. I’m here alone, actually.” You attempt to smile, but it looks more like a grimace. “We broke up. Not too long ago actually and messy. So, I guess this is my way of coping.” You shrug.

“Oh no, I’m sorry I brought it up.” He pouts, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “So you’re here alone?”

“Yep.” You pop the P with a little smile. “But it’s only my second day here and I’m happier than I have been in the last four years, so that’s a plus.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles warmly at you as you nod.

“Dokyeom-ah!” A second voice enters the conversation. “What’s taking so long?”

You turn your head and take a step back with wide eyes as you come face to face with Pretty Man; Jeonghan. He looks more put together than you both did at the airport; now sporting a pair of black skinny jeans with a plain white t-shirt and a leather checkered jacket. He looks just as surprised as you do, taking in your outfit.

“Sorry hyung,” Seokmin smiles, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you hold your cone now with both hands. “I ran into a friend from school! Hyung, this is-”

“Y/N. The one who left me to fend for myself to save the plane all on my own.” He sighs and places his hand on his chest.

“That was you?” Seokmin gasps.

“Yah!” You glare playfully. “You said it was okay!”

“I only said that to make you feel better about the fact that you willingly let me save us all.”

“It was one bout of turbulence.” You huff before Jeonghan smirks playfully at you. “I won’t keep you guys, you probably are waiting to get some gelato.”

“What? Are you sure?” Seokmin frowns. “You can tag along with us if you wanted, I’m sure hyung wouldn’t mind?”

“No, it’s okay, really.” You give him a little smile. Jeonghan frowns. He can see right through it.

“You’re just going to walk around by yourself?”

“You say that like I haven’t done it before, Min.” You laugh.

“I mean, yeah, you did it on campus but… you’re in a whole new country. I think I’d feel a lot better if you had at least one friend to keep you company.” He insists.

You hesitate, biting down on your lip. He does make a good point.

“How about this,” Seokmin offers. “You don’t have to spend every day with us. Why don’t we meet up once a day? I can take some great photos for your Instagram to show Geumjae that you’re thriving without him.”

“Geumjae?” Jeonghan tilts his head. Your face turns red.

“The Ex-boyfriend.” You hum, looking down.

“He never deserved you.” Seokmin rubs at your shoulders comfortingly as he sees the dismay on your face.

“Ah, thanks Min.” You smile. “I’ll take you up on that offer, only if it’s okay with you and Jeonghan. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You could never. You’re always welcome. Right, Hyung?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan nods with a smile at you.

“Thank you guys.”

“It’s no sweat, really! The more the merrier!” Seokmin beams. “We’re going to the Trevi tomorrow if you want to meet us there?”

“Sounds good.” You hum, waving your hand. “I’ll message you?”

“Sure.” He nods as you begin to walk away.

“See you then.”

As soon as you’re out of sight, Seokmin turns towards Jeonghan with raised eyebrows.

“Ohh Dokyeom-ah,” Seokmin mocks Jeonghan. He starts to blush. “I swear I made her laugh. She was just too cute.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles, glaring at the younger man.

“I can’t believe my school pal is the Cute Girl from your flight.”

“I said shut up.” He hissed. Seokmin just smirked at him with a giggle.

[writing-whump]

Too much sun

Matt gets sick and calls Isaiah for help. Contains emeto.

"Have fun, Matt."

Matthew turned at the phrase, giving Isaiah a sceptical look. "Last time you send me away to have fun, you ended up with a flu from hell. I'm not making the same mistake."

Isaiah sighed. "Alright, but that's a lesson for me, not for you. And I did call Sel back, didn't I?"

Matthew frowned. He was all ready to leave, shorts and a shirt. Some of his new friends from boxing invited him to a basketball game and the weather was perfect for the courts outside on the beach by the Danube river.

"Matt, for real. I'm alright. I'm literally swarmed with homework and assignments, I'm doing two lectures outside my faculty and I don't know what their faculty's style and method focus is at all and I'm gonna be trying to do the volunteering thing at the lawyer's office for wolves on Fridays...besides, I was no invited," Isaiah said with a smirk.

He was so happy Matthew was getting his own friends, that he was reaching out to people and they were reaching back. And not just because they knew he was in the pack with Isaiah.

Matthew needed his confidence in this department build up, and there was nothing better for it than experience.

Matthew bounced on his toes, not looking reassured.

Isaiah grimaced. Did he need to hand out test screenings of his health for his friends to believe him, when he wasn't sick? This was getting out of hand.

"Alright, I'm going. See you in a few hours." Matt probably figured not that much could happen in that time as he turned to leave.

Isaiah relaxed, chuckling a little for himself as he opened his laptop to scroll to the right pdf.

The time flew quickly after he got to work, morning turning to midday and to early afternoon that forced Isaiah to fix himself a lunch as a break. He was working his to do list off very well, satisfied, neglecting his breaks.

Around 2 pm he was sipping coffee on the balcony, wondering if he shouldn't take a walk or go on a quick run. Would Matt be in the mood for some sparring, when he got back, or would he be too tired?

Seline was visiting her parents, hopefully successfully this weekend. One of her uncle's was celebrating his 50th birthday, so she was even farther away from him than usual, someone in Central Slovakia.

Very human focused family from her father's side, since the wolf part came from her mother. Isaiah wondered what it would be like to be there with her. He could play the perfect human, he had no doubt of that, but Seline didn't want him to play one. She wanted him to be a wolf, but introducing a wolf to the family was a more serious business and they both knew it.

His phone rang on the little glass table on the balcony, Matthew's name on the screen.

Isaiah smiled, picking up. "Miss me already?"

"I...saiah..."

Isaiah's smile disappeared at the weakness in Matthew's voice. "Matt? Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He heard coughing that turned into gags on the other end of the line. "C-could you...come pick me up? P-please..."

Isaiah was at his feet that instant. "Yes, of course. You are at the sport park, right?" He went inside as he spoke, grabbing his car keys. He was really grateful for his car during emergencies, even if the parking situation in Vienna was an expensive tedious business.

"Y-yeah." There was something slurred and scared in the trembling sentence.

"Matt, talk to me." Isaiah locked the door to the apartment, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. "What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know what's wrong- I can't-urrup-" There was more gagging and something wet hitting the concrete.

"I'll be right there."

The way there was a blur with Isaiah wracking his head about what could have happened on the court. Concussion? Did he suddenly get sick? A fight with some hostile wolves passing through?

He parked the car the closest he could get to the area, getting out, just about to call Matthew for a GPS location, when he spotted a mop of dark red hair on a bench near the basketball court.

Isaiah all about ran to the place, heart speeding anxiously.

Matthew sat hunched down, elbows on his knees. There was no blood and no shadow, no visible signs of injury.

"Matt? Hey, man..."

Matthew lifted his head, squinting his eyes at Isaiah like he was looking straight into the sun and not into a pleasant afternoon shade under the trees. "Hi..."

That's when Isaiah noticed the vomit covering the ground, part of the bench and Matt's left sneaker.

Isaiah sat down on the clean part of the wood, hand going to Matthew's neck. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Matthew slumped forward at Isaiah's touch. "I don't know. We were playing just normal, it was hot and good and all. And then my head started to pound and I got dizzy and suddenly I was throwing up all over the place and I don't know why." There was more than a hint of frustration in Matthew's explanation.

"Okay, okay, we are gonna figure this out." Isaiah ran his hands over Matthew's face, his pupils were normal, there were no bumps...he was really hot and dry to the touch. He could feel no sweat, wasn't that weird after an intense game of basketball on a warm day?

Matthew's face scrunched up in a grimace at the ministrations, closing his eyes. His body suddenly pitched forward with a heave, bringing up a chunky wave of vomit.

Isaiah scrambled to turn Matthew's face towards the sidewalk, between his legs instead of at him, gripping his shoulder and upper arm to steady him. "Okay, bud, get it all out."

"C-can't stop," Matthew managed between gags, spitting at the puddle. He wrapped his hands around his stomach, hunching over even more. "My head really hurts, Zaya."

"Your head? Not your stomach?"

Matthew groaned, slumping to the side against Isaiah who let him fall into his lap, rubbing his back and shoulder. "Everything hurts. Cramps like a motherfucker."

"Okay. Just breathe, it will pass in a minute," Isaiah promised, not sure what it still was.

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, head on Isaiah's tight, his face one pained grimace, throat bobbing.

"We are just going to stay here and breathe and then I'm going to get you home and it will all be okay," Isaiah said as calmly as he could, rubbing his arm. Could this be some kind of heat related issue? Heat exhaustion or heat stroke? He wasn't that sure of the difference, just that the symptoms were kind of similar.

"...ruined everything again," Matthew said, curling around his stomach.

Isaiah scoffed. "You didn't ruin anything, that's nonse-"

"Got all sick during the game. They all left."

Isaiah frowned, angry coldness entering his voice. "Then they aren't good friends. In fact, they aren't even decent people, to leave someone who is sick alone. What idiots."

"Nobody else got sick, I must have done something wrong..."

"No, you didn't. I think you got a bit of a heatstroke, there, bud, can happen to anybody." Isaiah put the back of his hand to Matthew's creased forehead. Still no sweat and hot to the touch. "We need to get you home and cool you down."

"Uhmmmm," Matthew grunted. "Don't wanna move. Dizzy."

"It's not going to get any better here. I got water in the car and we will be home quick, I promise. I'll help you."

Matthew took a deep shaky breath, but then started to lift himself up. Isaiah helped him to straighten up on the bench, then guided his arm around his shoulders, wrapping his hand gently around Matthew's torso.

The moment they stood up, Matthew groaned, more puke exploding out of his mouth.

Isaiah held him steady, when he swayed, more vomit splattering in front of them, spluttering everywhere.

"Ughhhh, sorry..."

"Shhhhh. Not your fault. Can you walk? One step at a time, we'll go slow."

Matthew got heavier, most of his weight hanging on Isaiah as he fought to catch his balance. He squeezed his eyes shut with force as if to block out all the light.

They made a few steps, when Matthew froze, gripping Isaiah's sleeve on his upper arm in panic. "Zaya, I can't see, I can't see- what-"

Isaiah felt cold sweat on the back his neck, stopping immediately. Matthew's eyes were screwed shut. "Shhhh, okay, don't panic. Describe it to me. What can you see? Pitch black? A blot at the center?"

"It's like black spots all over-" Matthew sniffled, sounding dangerously close to crying, breathing fast as he turned towards Isaiah's voice.

Isaiah readjusted his grip, one arm under Matthew's armpit all around his torso, holding Matt's arm around his neck tighter. "Could be just from standing up and the elevation changing. It will clear out in a few seconds." He stopped adding promises to his sentences, mentally preparing to just call 911 if it didn't.

Matthew gasped for breath as if he was choking, blinking his eyes, then breathed in relief. "It's clearing up again..."

Isaiah didn't let out the deep sigh of relief stuck in his chest, pretending like that was what he expected. "All good now. You are okay. Just a few more steps to the car."

Matthew's grip on Isaiah's sleeve didn't loosen, but he nodded tightly, letting himself be dragged forward.

Isaiah fiddled with finding the car keys, opening the back seat door to slide Matthew inside, door open, in case he needed to vomit some more.

He went to the trunk to locate a water bottle and some plastic bags, crouching down next to Matthew.

"How are you feeling, bud?" Isaiah offered Matthew the water bottle.

Matt took it, but didn't drink, eyes closed, but not squeezing them shut anymore, as if he was afraid it would make his vision blotchy again. "Ughmmmm. Like I'm gonna throw up."

Isaiah rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Everything-everything's spinning," Matthew belched, gripping the water bottle in his fist, the plastic squeaking under his fingers.

"This is very likely a heatstroke. The headache, the nausea, the dizziness....it will be fine. We'll cool you down, get you some good meds, and it will all go away."

"Uhhhhmmm," Matthew wiggled his hands restlessly in discomfort, bowing his head. "I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I know this could happen? So stupid."

"It's different for everyone. Some can take the heat better than others. You will know what signs to look out for next time. It's okay."

"But I wanted to- wanted to do something on my own for once." Matthew's whole face crumbled. "I didn't want to drag you into it to save me, I wanted to do it on my own-" Matthew sniffled again, breathing picking up and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the seat in front of him.

Isaiah's chest squeezed, realizing Matthew would be crying if he had the tears to spare.

Isaiah circled the car to climb in from the other side, hand going around Matthew's back to push him against his chest. "Aww, come on, bud. You did everything right. You are meeting new people, you got that new boxing gym...you are putting yourself out there, building a life for yourself outside your shadow, without accidents or fights you don't want. You are doing great."

Matthew let himself get dragged back into Isaiah's lap, breathing still panicked. "L-look how stupid I am. People are supposed to know these things at my age- they-I'm not supposed to be a burden on you, constantly getting sick on you-"

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't talk like that. We all have our own learning curve. You were on your own from such an early age, Matt, it's harder to find out on your own," Isaiah said gently. "Besides, you are not a burden. You are my best friend. I don't mind saving your ass, when you need it."

Matthew snorted despite himself, before taking another shuddering breath. "Seline said- and the points- I don't know if I have enough- if I can help as much as you- you didn't call me and I-" he buried his head against Isaiah's stomach, shaking.

"Points? What points?" Isaiah didn't understand and didn't think this was time to find out. "You are doing enough. It's okay. We love you, of course we would want to help out. Not your fault, when you get sick. It's not a burden."

"It-it is, even you think you-"

"It's not a burden to get sick," Isaiah said firmly, rubbing Matthew's back. "Shhhhh. It's okay."

They sat there for a few minutes, Isaiah rubbing circles to Matthew's back and listening to his breathing hitching as he sniffled and found a slower breathing rhythm, watching out for gagging noises.

"There you go. All better," Isaiah murmured. "You didn't have a family that would look out for you like this. That's why you feel like a burden. It's not your fault, but it's not fair at all for you to feel like that. You get sick and we'll deal with it."

Matthew was lying limply over him, breathing much calmer, though he was still pale and frowning, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Come on, bud, let's get home....I can't drive like this," Isaiah said with a small smile, ranning his fingers through Matthew's hair.

Matthew lifted himself up with a groan, enough for Isaiah to slip from underneath him.

"What if I throw up on the way?" Matthew said quietly, stretched out over the back seats.

"There is a bag right next to you. And if you do, you do. It isn't such a big deal." Isaiah just wanted him home and lying down in a cool place already. The car was getting overheated, standing in full blown sun.

"Uhmmmmm," Matthew moaned as Isaiah got the engine started, a/c on full blast. "If it's no big deal...don't think...you had the right family either...Zaya."

Isaiah's stomach flipped at the words. He swallowed heavily, focusing on backing the car out the parking lot.

@bellysoupset