#the flash season 5 imagine

[fanficwritersworld]

Fatal Love

Summary: The real reason Nora is working with Thawne. based on episode 18 of season 5

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Ramon!Reader

Requested: by @neothegayturtle Hope you like it, went a little off sorry.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: blood, metions of death and dying, barry allen salt

A/N: i kinda wanted to write more but didn't want to get carried away. if anyone wants a part two let me know

Masterlist|Prompt List

Team Flash were quick to open Nora’s journal. While the writing was unreadable to them without the quantum computer. But Barry had seen glimpses of the English written notes and pictures. That’s when they saw one picture in particular. It was a girl they had never seen before. She was smiling brightly as she held up a degree in her hands.

Nora sat in the cell, her sobs echoing around her and she curled into a ball in the corner of the cell. She failed. She failed to stop him and now her father hates her. If only he knew the real reason behind her forced alliance with his worse enemy. If only she had told him about her. About (Y/N) (L/N).

“Has Nora ever mentioned a (Y/N) (L/N)?” Iris questioned, not remembering the name. “No, anything in her journal?” Barry asked, looking up at Cisco. The man search through the entries, and almost every one of them mentioned her” Cisco looked in shock. “What’s so special about this (Y/N) kid?” Ralph asked out loud. Sherloque pulled up a specific entry that he thought Team Flash might need to hear. “It started with music…”

2039 - Central City

Eighteen-year-old Nora walked into her senior prom. She wore a simple lilac dress to her knees with some white gold accents. Her hair was curled as she wandered around. It was normal enough in the future to go to prom alone, Nora slightly wished she didn’t go at all.

She sat by the stage, listening to the band that her school had hired. Even in this decade, real music done by people was very appreciated after the whole A.I fiasco in the 2020s. “West-Allen, what’s got you so blue?” a voice called out from behind her. 

(Y/N) (L/N)

She was Nora’s science partner that year. They didn’t talk much but Nora kinda wished she did. You weren’t wearing any formal wear, just your favourite outfit and a nice jacket. You held a guitar as you decided to sit next to Nora. “I hate these things. I’ve been going to the Policemen Balls since I was a kid so I never really looked forward to these things” Nora explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Well… Nora West-Allen, wanna join me on stage?” You asked very fancily.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I don’t play or sing” She told you. “I’ve seen you listen to music West-Allen, drumming your fingers to the beat as you use everything around you like a drumkit” You told her, pulling her up to stand next to you. Nora blushed at your observation. “I haven’t played in years” Nora tried to lie her way out only for you to put a pair of drumsticks in her hands.

“Come one pretty girl, your playing with me” You told her before dragging her onto the stage.

2019

“So (Y/N) was Nora’s girlfriend” Caitlin spoke, reading the rest of the entry. Everyone was shocked, why hadn’t Nora said anything? That’s when a breach opened up in the middle of the cortex. Stepping out from it was…you. “I still am, where is Nora?” You asked, glaring at Barry. “Look, (Y/N) Nora is-” Barry started to explain before you put your hand up to stop him. “Working with Thawne, yeah I know” You finished, not wanting to deal with your girl’s paranoid father. “She’s doing it for me. Thawne is the only one who could help Nora time travel to help me” You told him, yanking the journal you gifted Nora from his clutches. “Why? What happened to you?” Cisco asked you.

“My powers… I was corrupted by the dagger. Nora’s trying to destroy it so save me” You explained to them, only for Barry to scoff at your problem. “How do we know you’re not the one that put Thawne in Nora’s head” He questions you, walking up to you with his arms crossed. “‘Cause I’m like Nora…a kid from Team Flash. (L/N) is my birth mother’s name. My full name is (Y/N) (L/N)- Ramon, daughter of Vibe” You told him, turning a pin on your jacket. With pixelated cubes, your outfit reveals a more feminine version of Cisco’s suit with his goggles placed on top of your head.

“And it’s time you see the real story” You told them all. Raising your hands above your head, you released a dark (F/C) breach wave before slamming it onto the ground. Everyone's eyes began to glow (F/C).

2049

Nora and her best friend Lia sat at their desk in CCPD’s CSI Lab. You walk in with two big bags of Belly Burger. “I brought the food now spill. What requires my expertise” You smiled, kissing Nora’s cheek and you put the food on the table. “Someone’s stealing chemicals” Nora explained, handing you the police report. “Your girlfriend thinks it was a speedster” Lia snickered, making Nora stick her tongue out.

You gave your girlfriend a ‘really’ look as you closed the file. “I remember some of these chemicals from one of my Papa’s old cases, I’ll ask Joe if I can get access” You told her, seeing Nora looking at her board with her mom’s most famous article. ‘FLASH VANISHES IN CRISIS’ and the last case her father ever had and failed to solve…‘WHO IS CICADA'

“Hey pretty, how about we get those files together?” You offered, placing your head on her shoulder. Nora nodded with a soft smile before bidding Lia farewell. You and Nora walked into the old storage room, searching for the files from 2016. “So how’s Mama Iris?” You asked Nora, closing another drawer. “God, she’s coming back from Keystone tonight. Seemed nervous on the phone though” Nora answered, flipping through the files. 

“You know speedsters haven’t been around since the Flash disappeared right?” You changed the conversation. Nora looked at you with a slightly annoyed face. “(N/N), I know it’s weird that I want to find out who Cicada is but-” You cut the girl off. “It was the only case your dad couldn’t solve and you feel like solving it will bring you closer to him” You finished with a sympathetic look. Nora slumped as you walked over to her.

“I know it’s hard, my mom bailed around the same time but you got Mama Iris and I have my Papa. And we’ve got each other” You told her, kissing her temple. You knew one of the many reasons they asked for your unique expertise was so Lia could get you to talk Nora down when she got a little ‘excessive’. Your gauntlet pinged, you opened the message. “Lia’s got the security footage” You told Nora before you both ran back to their lab.

Nora was right. A speedster with white lightning was stealing chemicals. Let’s just say Lia will not be allowed to forget that for a long time. Now you and your girlfriend were in the Flash Museum looking for evidence about a white lightning-clad speedster. You felt slightly uncomfortable in the room, the reverse flash display made your heart stop.

“Any luck babe?” You asked Nora as she finished the first display. But by then all the monitors showed the closing signs for the museum. “Shrap!” Nora scolded herself as Mr Myles spoke on the intercom about closing. “Also Nora West-Allen please call your mother is calling you and (Y/N) (L/N) wish your abuela happy birthday” Mr Myles spoke after his usual announcement. You both had a minor heart attack by this and were quick to call your relatives.

 Nora walked ahead of you as you dial your Abuela’s archaic phone. “Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós” You hung up quicky, seeing Nora pressed against a wall.

“Querida? You okay?” You asked her. Nora looked at you with a defeated smile. “I’m okay, Lia has someone at OLLINS who can help with why the speedster is stealing the chemicals” Nora changed the subject. You stopped her from moving away, “Nora, you can talk to me” You told her. “I know” Nora smiled, kissing your cheek.

The scientist at OLIINS told you three that whatever the speedster was using the chemicals for, they could only be used based on a structure. “Total bust” You kicked air as you three walked out. “We can’t wait for another lab to get hit” Nora told you both. That’s when a bright flash of white passed you three, knocking you onto the floor. Nora was quick to help you up.

“Holy Shrap!” Nora and Lia squealed, running back into the laboratory. The scientist was on the floor as the speedster stood before them. He was silent, his eyes were covered by the black holes of his mask. You were quick to stand in front of Nora and Lia. “Oh my God” Nora gasped. 

“Yes, I am a God” The speedster spoke menacingly. “The God of Speed” He snarled, lightning manifesting from his palms. “Girls go!” You shouted, holding your arms out to block them. Lia ran but Nora stayed put. “Nora go!” You shouted at her.

It was too late, you both were thrown back into the shelf behind you, breaking the glasses filled with chemicals. The last thing you did was reach out for Nora, “Queri-” You tried to speak before your eyes shut.

You could hear…Lady Gaga? You opened your eyes, feeling lightheaded as you tried to sit up. “I knew an oldie would do the trick with you two” Lia smiled, turning off the music. “Don’t freak out but you're in a hospital. Me for this burn and you too for passing out” Lia explained, Nora stayed calm while you were the first to panic. “No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca” You rambled, jumping out of the bed. You went straight over to Nora, making sure your girlfriend was ok. “ Mi vida, are you okay? I can call the best doctor in the country if you don’t feel okay” You asked her, checking her temperature with eh back of your hand. “You know the best doctor in the country?” Lia rolled her eyes, thinking you were exaggerating. You looked at her seriously. “Yeah, she’s my godmother” You answered before Nora decided to sit up.

“Baby I’m fine. I feel fine actually, my fingers are a little tingly but other than that I feel good” Nora told you, resting her head on your shoulder. “And you (Y/N)?” Lia asked. “Dunno, I feel like someone of blasting music right into my veins. It’s a vibe” You answered, rubbing Nora’s shoulder. “Good, I was so worried. The doctor said you were hit with 500 billion Jules of lightning…so don’t get mad” Lia slightly cringed before the doors opened up.

An older-looking Cisco Ramon. His hair was tied back loosely with a few thick strands of grey. He wore a nerdy jumper as he ran towards you. “Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity?” He asked you, holding your face in his hands.

“Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía” You told him, giving Lia a side eye. Your dad had enough worries to supply the nation. “Gracias a la fuerza” He sighed, kissing your forehead. “Um, Mr Ramon the doctors need you to fill out some forms” Lia spoke up timidly. Cisco nodded before bidding you farewell.

“Chica, first you call my Papá and you then kick him out?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde. “Yeah because while Mrs West-Allen is nonstop calling me, I didn’t tell your parents about these” Lia was careful as she held up two glass cylinders with a burnt-out metal thing in each.

“What are those?” You asked, taking one in your hands. “Piece of shrapnel maybe? They had to use the defibs on you both. When they did they found those underneath the scars on your shoulders” Lia explained. 

You stood up, recognizing the piece of metal. “I need to talk to my Dad!” You shouted before running out of the room. You ran up to your father the cylinder in hand. “Papá!” You called out grabbing his attention. The second you grabbed his arm, you zoned out. You could see Vibe fighting in the past and your Dad being killed by a speedster. You gasped as you let go of your father, dropping the cylinder. Cisco caught it before it reached the floor. Cisco looked at you with worried eyes as blood trickled down your nose.

“Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber”

The entire vibe stopped, everyone was back to seeing STAR Lab’s cortex. You however didn’t look too good as you dropped onto the floor, blood gushing from your nose and the corner of your mouth. “Long…story short. That speedster killed our friend. My powers were affected by the remains of the dagger causing me to be like this. She’s only working with Thawne to save me. As long as that dagger is intact, the more my powers will hurt me. But that’s not why I came here” You coughed up blood, struggling to get up. Cisco went to help you, seeing his kid from the future hurt because of him.

“Why did you come back?” Iris asked you as you struggled to stand. “To stop her. That dagger is the only thing keeping Thawne in his cage. I can’t let her choose me over everyone else” You told her, coughing once more.

Nora hated the dark. Ever since she was a kid. But with you, it made the darkness more bearable. You would hum lullabies your Abuela taught you, holding Nora safe in your arms as she listened to your heartbeat. Now, you were going to die because of her.

The sounds of her cell being brought forward took her thoughts as the light began to seep through. Barry and Cisco stood in front of her, solemn faces as she stood up. “Are you gonna send me home?” Nora asked her father, who still had a look of disappointment on his face. Barry didn’t speak as he opened the cell, making Nora tilt her head. “Dad what ar-”

Nora found your face, a soft smile as you looked at her with tears of joy. “Mi amor” You spoke softly as Nora used her speed to run into your arms. You held Nora tightly, burying your head in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry” Nora sobbed, clinging to you as her own life depended on it.

“It’s okay mi amor, it’s okay” you told her, kissing her head as you held your crying girlfriend

Translations:

Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós - Hello grandma, happy birthday… Sorry Nora and I are at work… No, I haven't asked yet… Tell Dad I'll bring dinner… Grandma stop asking… Sorry for my tone I love you too goodbye.

Querida - Dear

No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca - No, no, I don't do two things. Hospitals and heart failure

Mi vida - my life

Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity? - My daughter! Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do I need to call your Aunt Caity?

Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía - Dad, I'm fine, there's really no need to call Auntie

Gracias a la fuerza - Thank the Force

Chica - Girl

Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber - My daughter, there's something you should know

Mi amor - my love

[em-dash-press]

Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories

Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 

The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 

1. Start a New Chapter

Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.

Ideas to End a Chapter

The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)

The characters end a conversation

One character informs another of a plot twist

Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash

2. Emphasize the Season

You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.

If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.

3. Visualize a Movie Montage

Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 

You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.

Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.

Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:

One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.

My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.

My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.

4. Showcase Some Confusion

Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.

These are some examples:

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?

The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?

Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.

5. Employ a Phrase

There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:

Later that morning

A few weeks later

After months of trying

Six hours later

The following week

As the store closed for the night

-----

There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 

Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.

[bnha-headcanonss]

POV, Shinsou proposes + engaged life

• Shinsou would wait a long while before proposing, a couple years, 4-5 I would imagine. He wants to make sure this is his version of forever, and it is.

• When walking around the city together at night, almost every night, you’ll usually find yourself on a small hill, just to over look the city and it’s been a go-to spot for years. One night he takes you there on a normal walk. Holding hands, talking about your days, plans for the next.

You two lay in the grass, as usual, just you two there. You get up to see the city lights, its festival season so there’s more vibrant lights rather than just light forks windows, cars and street lights, but there’s purples and pinks, blue and orange. A whole rainbow.

You turn around to show him, as if he hasn’t seen them hundreds of times, but he still loves to hear you gush about them, every time.

But when you turn around you’re met with Shinsou, on one knee and a ring box opened in his hands.

Engaged Life

• Quite a bit of time is spent on the wedding. Joint effort in making sure everything is perfect for the both of you.

• He makes sure to add aspects of both of your lives to perfectly represent each other and the relationship.

• The dates planned for your initial anniversary, his idea and he’s sticking to it.

• Little add-in, he doesn’t believe in divorce, so you’re in it for the long run, which is why he’s very meticulous about the planning.

• He flaunts you as much as possible for as reserved as he is. “This is my fiancée”, flashes his ring whenever others eye him and so on.

• You bring up the idea of starting a family, furbabies for now, of course. You know he’s wanted a cat since he was in high school when you met him, probably even longer than that. You’ve been wanting a bunny forever and although he isn’t much of a bunny person, he caves in, just for you. You got them both as babies so they bond nicely.

• You still visit that spot almost every night of course, looking at the lights, sharing your days together.

• During the day you two go and explore other locations, not as a replacement, but more of an adventure.

• Date nights become more regular. Walks around the city and fancy dinners.

• He loves the idea of being married to you soon and talks about it a lot, usually at that spot or in bed before going to sleep.

Thank you for the suggestion!

It’s 7 am, I’ve been awake since about 3:30 pm, typing this with fake nails was rough lmfaoo. I’m going to sleep now. (Prob not)

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya

Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10 ]

Tap

Tap

Tap

Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.

“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.

Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”

Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.

Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.

“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”

Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.

That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.

It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.

Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.

“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.

You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.

Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.

Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.

Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.

Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.

“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.

You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.

Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.

The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.

Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.

A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.

Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.

Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.

White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.

Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.

“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.

It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.

Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.

“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.

“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.

Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.

You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.

They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.

A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.

You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.

Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 5

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 2.6k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: mingyu is not an idiot anymore. not descriptive sex but there’s sex. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​@ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear r , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy , @gyuguys , @brownbunnyb

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The opulent Grand Palais glittered under the Parisian night sky, its glass dome reflecting the stars above and the flashing cameras below. Paris Fashion Week was in full swing, and tonight's show was the most anticipated of the season. Mingyu adjusted his designer suit for the umpteenth time, still somewhat uncomfortable in the world of high fashion. But as the face of several luxury brands and with HHT's growing influence in the industry, his presence here was inevitable.

As he made his way down the red carpet, Mingyu couldn't help but feel a sense of unreality. Five years ago, he never would have imagined himself here, rubbing shoulders with the elite of the fashion world. The flashing lights and calls from photographers were familiar, but the context was all wrong. He was used to stages and concert venues, not runways and fashion shows.

"Mingyu! Over here!" "Kim Mingyu, who are you wearing tonight?" "Mingyu, is it true HHT is collaborating with Chanel for your next comeback?"

He answered the questions with practiced ease, his idol smile firmly in place. But inside, his stomach churned with anticipation. He knew she would be here tonight. Y/N. The woman he'd never quite gotten over, despite years of distance and silence.

As he entered the grand hall, Mingyu's eyes scanned the crowd. A mix of celebrities, designers, and industry insiders milled about, their chatter creating a low hum that filled the space. He nodded at a few familiar faces, exchanged pleasantries with a designer he'd worked with recently. But his attention was divided, always searching.

And then, he saw her.

Y/N stood across the room, and the sight of her knocked the breath from Mingyu's lungs. She was radiant in a sleek, black gown that shimmered with every movement, its high slit offering tantalizing glimpses of her leg. Her hair, longer than he remembered, was swept up in an elegant updo, exposing the graceful line of her neck. She was engaged in conversation with a group of admirers, her laugh carrying across the space. The sound made Mingyu's heart skip a beat, just as it had all those years ago.

For a moment, Mingyu forgot how to breathe. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, more poised, more confident. This wasn't the Y/N he'd known as HHT's manager. This was Y/N the successful entrepreneur, the fashion icon, the woman who had taken the beauty world by storm with her perfumes and skincare line.

As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up. Their eyes met across the crowded room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The chatter faded away, the flashing lights dimmed. There was only Y/N, her eyes wide with recognition, a small gasp escaping her perfectly painted lips.

Mingyu watched, his heart pounding, as Y/N excused herself from her group and made her way towards him. Each step she took seemed to last an eternity. He felt rooted to the spot, his pulse quickening with every click of her heels on the marble floor.

"Mingyu," she said, her voice soft but clear above the ambient chatter. "It's been a while."

Hearing her say his name again after so long sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Y/N," he breathed, drinking in the sight of her. "You look... amazing."

A slight blush colored her cheeks, and Mingyu was struck by how familiar that look was. For a moment, he saw a flash of the Y/N he used to know, the one who would get flustered when he complimented her backstage after a show.

"Thank you," she said, her composure quickly returning. "You're not looking too bad yourself. I see the fashion world has embraced you."

Mingyu chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More like they've tolerated me. I still feel a bit out of place at these things."

"Could have fooled me," Y/N replied with a small smile. "You look like you belong here."

They fell into an awkward silence, years of unspoken words hanging between them. Mingyu's mind raced, trying to find the right thing to say. Should he mention her perfume? Ask about her business? Apologize for the years of distance?

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Congratulations on 'Solène.' It's... quite a name."

Y/N's eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. Was it sadness? Regret? Or was he just projecting his own feelings onto her? "Thank you," she said after a moment. "I heard 'Shadow' is topping charts worldwide. Seems we're both doing well for ourselves."

The tension was palpable. Mingyu was about to speak, to say something, anything to break through the wall of politeness between them, when a waiter approached with a tray of champagne. They both reached for a glass, their fingers brushing momentarily. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through them both, and Mingyu saw Y/N's eyes widen slightly at the contact.

"To success," Y/N said, raising her glass, her voice slightly breathless.

"To old friends," Mingyu countered, clinking his glass against hers. He held her gaze as they drank, searching for any sign that she felt the same turmoil he did.

As the night wore on, Mingyu found himself gravitating towards Y/N again and again. They made small talk with other guests, posed for photos, applauded the runway shows. But always, his eyes would seek her out in the crowd, and more often than not, he'd find her looking back.

One drink led to another, and soon they found themselves slipping away from the main event, seeking a quieter spot to catch up. They ended up in a secluded balcony overlooking the Parisian skyline, the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Y/N said, leaning against the railing. The soft breeze played with a few loose strands of her hair, and Mingyu had to resist the urge to tuck them behind her ear.

"Yeah," he agreed, though his eyes were fixed on her profile rather than the view. "Beautiful."

Y/N turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips. "You're not even looking at the skyline, are you?"

Caught, Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Can you blame me? The view right here is much more captivating."

Y/N laughed, the sound sending warmth spreading through Mingyu's chest. "Still the smooth talker, I see. Some things never change."

"Some things do," Mingyu said softly. "You've changed. You seem... happier. More confident."

Y/N's smile softened. "I am. This life, this career... it's everything I ever wanted." She paused, her eyes searching his face. "What about you, Mingyu? Are you happy?"

The question caught him off guard. Was he happy? He had fame, fortune, adoring fans. HHT was more successful than ever. But standing here with Y/N, he realized there had always been something missing.

"I thought I was," he admitted. "But seeing you again... I'm not so sure anymore."

The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken emotions. Y/N took a step closer, close enough that Mingyu could smell her perfume – "Barely Yours," he realized with a start.

"Mingyu," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did we let so much time pass? Why did we stop talking?"

Mingyu's heart raced. This was it, the moment he'd both longed for and dreaded. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I guess we both got caught up in our own worlds. It was easier to focus on work than to face... whatever this is between us."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I've missed this," she said softly. "I've missed you."

Those words broke something in Mingyu. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, cupping Y/N's face in his hands. "I've missed you too," he whispered. "So much."

Their lips met in a kiss that was five years in the making. It was soft at first, tentative, both of them unsure. But then Y/N's arms wound around Mingyu's neck, pulling him closer, and the kiss deepened. Years of pent-up emotion and desire poured out, leaving them both breathless and wanting more.

When they finally broke apart, Mingyu rested his forehead against Y/N's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment. "What are we doing?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/N's fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't want to stop."

Mingyu pulled back slightly, searching her eyes. "Y/N, I-"

But she pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Not here," she said. "My hotel is just around the corner. We can... talk there."

The implication in her words was clear. Mingyu swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Are you sure?"

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady despite the flush on her cheeks. "I've never been more sure of anything."

The walk to Y/N's hotel was a blur. Mingyu was hyper-aware of her hand in his, of the way her dress shimmered under the streetlights, of the anticipation building with each step. They barely made it into the elevator before he was kissing her again, pressing her against the mirrored wall as her hands fumbled with his tie.

As the hotel room door closed behind them, Mingyu felt his heart racing. He couldn't believe he was here, with Y/N, after all this time. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across her features, making her look almost ethereal.

"Y/N," he breathed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure about this?"

In response, Y/N stepped closer, eliminating the space between them. She placed a hand on his chest, and Mingyu was sure she could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she whispered, echoing her words from earlier.

Their lips met in a kiss that was both familiar and thrillingly new. Mingyu's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, pulling her closer. The scent of her perfume enveloped him, igniting memories of stolen moments from years past.

As they made their way towards the bed, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of surreality. Here he was, with the woman he'd never quite gotten over, the one who had haunted his dreams and inspired countless songs. His fingers trembled slightly as he unzipped her dress, revealing smooth skin that he'd thought he'd never touch again.

"You're shaking," Y/N murmured, her eyes searching his.

Mingyu let out a shaky laugh. "I just... I can't believe this is real. That you're here, that we're..."

Y/N silenced him with another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. "It's real," she assured him between kisses. "We're real."

As clothing fell away and they tumbled onto the bed, Mingyu took a moment to simply look at Y/N. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, her body a canvas of soft curves and elegant lines. He traced a finger along her collarbone, marveling at the way she shivered at his touch.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed you so much."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've missed you too, Mingyu. More than you know."

What followed was a rediscovery of each other, a dance of passion and tenderness. Mingyu kissed every inch of skin he could reach, relearning the map of Y/N's body. Her sighs and soft moans were music to his ears, more beautiful than any song he'd ever written.

As they moved together, Mingyu felt overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions. This was more than just physical attraction; it was a reconnection of souls that had been apart for far too long. He poured years of longing, of regret, of unspoken love into every touch, every kiss.

"Y/N," he gasped as they neared their peak. "I lo-"

But she pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head slightly. "Not now," she whispered. "Just feel."

And so he did, losing himself in the moment, in the warmth of Y/N's embrace, in the perfection of their bodies moving as one.

Afterwards, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Mingyu traced lazy patterns on Y/N's bare shoulder. The reality of what had just happened was starting to sink in, bringing with it a mix of elation and uncertainty.

"What happens now?" he asked softly, voicing the question that hung heavily in the air.

Y/N was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "But can we... can we just have this moment? Before the real world comes crashing back in?"

Mingyu nodded, pulling her closer. As Y/N's breathing evened out and she drifted off to sleep, Mingyu remained awake, his mind racing. He knew that morning would bring complications, questions, and possibly regrets. But for now, he allowed himself to simply be, holding the woman he loved in his arms, savoring a moment he'd thought would never come again.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the hotel room windows, rousing Mingyu from a deep sleep. For a moment, he was disoriented, but then the events of the previous night came rushing back. He turned to find Y/N still asleep beside him, her hair splayed across the pillow, her face peaceful in repose.

As he watched her sleep, a mix of emotions washed over him. Joy at their reunion, confusion about what this meant for their future, and a lingering fear that this might be nothing more than a one-night trip down memory lane. But underlying it all was a sense of rightness, as if a missing piece of himself had finally clicked back into place.

Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Mingyu, a soft smile spread across her face. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," he replied, his heart swelling with affection.

They lay there in silence for a moment, the weight of their actions settling over them. There was no going back now. The question was, where did they go from here?

As the bustling sounds of Paris waking up filtered through the window, Mingyu knew they had a lot to talk about. The shadows of their past and the echoes of their promises hung in the air, waiting to be addressed. But looking at Y/N, seeing the warmth in her eyes and the soft curve of her smile, Mingyu felt a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever complications their night together might bring, Mingyu knew one thing for certain: he wasn't letting Y/N slip away again. They had been given a second chance, and this time, he was determined to get it right.

"Y/N," he said softly, reaching out to caress her cheek. "I think... I think we need to talk."

Y/N nodded, her expression turning serious. "I know. But first..." She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you for last night. For everything."

Mingyu loses his smile when Y/N seems to get ready to leave.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

"Listen to me and listen to me good Y/N L/N. Don't come back if you go out there on your own, don't call, don't text, pretend I'm dead!"

I jolt awake, buckets of sweat pouring down my head. I don't realize I'm crying until I feel my eyes burn. A stinging migraine takes over, pressure building up in my head. I gotta stop dreaming about that over and over. It was probably one of the worst days of my life.

Checking the time I see it's 5 am. I'm only a couple hours away from Jericho now, I took a pit stop at midnight because I was exhausted and still kinda hungover from the night before. Which is weird because I usually don't get hungover.

More or less I'm trying to avoid sleep because of these stupid nightmares, as hunters we don't get much sleep regardless but we're only human...until we're not. Pushing the blanket off of me, I climb out of bed and get ready for the day ahead of me. My heart skips a beat for a second, remembering I'm gonna be seeing Dean....and Sam obviously. I'm more excited to see my best friend of many years.

I think about calling my dad. I initially decide against it but I give in. He's still my old man. Growing up my dad always had high expectations of me when it came to hunting. It's clear he expected me to be psychic like my mom but after I turned 18 and nothing came, his disappointment was clear.

Mom's abilities helped him out a lot when they hunted together, according to dad, she couldn't predict the future as much but she more or less communicated with the dead on ghost cases along with her telekinetic powers. It came it handy whenever they needed to gank a monster.

The look in my fathers eyes when he talks about my mom, breaks my heart everytime. You can see how much he loved her, I could only imagine how much she loved him.

After taking a shower I try to call Dean but it goes to voicemail. So I just shoot him a quick text that I'll be in Jericho before lunch.

I put my phone to my ear after dialing my dads number and hitting call. In seconds I get an answer. "Y/n/n? Is everything okay??" My dads voice is more rugged than usual, clearly he was asleep. Concern seeping through his voice. "I'm fine daddy, I just missed you. I called to see if everything is alright?" Tears sting slightly from my eyes. God I'm such a pussy.

"I'm great baby, I'm surprised to hear from you-not that I don't want to. I'm just happy you called" He breaths out relieved. "Great well Dean called me, told me his dad was missing. I just wanted to let you know I'm gonna be meeting up with them." I say quickly as I check out of the motel room and make way to my beautiful Quinn after checking out, doubling checking to make sure I have everything.

"Understood. Update me along the way? Maybe we can do a case of our own soon?" He asks hopefully. "Yeah maybe, we'll see. I gotta go daddy. Bye, love you" I shock myself saying 'love you' I haven't told dad that in years. I grew up always saying it to my dad and whoever we considered family. The habit just stuck.

Hopping on my bike and starting her, I'm off to whatever adventure awaits.

________________________________

Third Person POV

"Goddamnit Dean where are you?" Y/N mutters to herself after calling Dean for the millionth time only to go to voice mail. This feels like karma. She decides to say screw it and go herself, hopefully they show up within the time or Dean calls back. She's still in her casual attire. A grey tank top, layered with a red flannel covered in her favorite leather jacket. Paired with combat boots.

Currently on the Sylvania Bridge, a bunch of cop cars blocking a crime scene. A deputy on the bridge speaking to some divers down in the river asks them. "Did you guys find anything?!"

"No! Nothing!" The diver responds. The deputy turns around to see Y/N. "Woah miss no civilians" He goes to usher her out of the premises. She pulls out her fake federal marshal badge and flashes it to the Deputy Jaffe according to his name tag. He seems to take the bait with a nod.

A fake smile plastered on her face "Federal Marshal, got called in on my day off. So what seems to be the situation brothers in blue?" Y/N asks nicely. "Still trying to piece it together ourselves, pretty lady. No sign of struggle. No footprints. No fingerprints. It's spotless. It's almost too clean" The other deputy investigating the car in question answers her question.

Stooping down next to Jaffe, out of view to look at the car herself. She recognizes the roar of Baby's engine. Smirking to herself as the officers talk about the boy that's missing, Troy Squire. "So this kid Troy, he's dating your daughter isn't he?" Jaffe asks Hein. "Yeah" Hein confirms.

"Hows Amy doing?" Jaffe asks. "She's putting up missing posters downtown" Hein responds. "You fellas had another one like this just last month didn't you?" Dean voice booms, surprising the deputies. "Who are you" Jaffe asks suspiciously. "They're with me deputy" Y/N covers for them, now standing up in view. A shocked yet happy look takes over Sam's face and a smirk rising on Dean's, eyeing her up and down for a split second. They both quickly recover now back to their serious faces.

"You fellas took a pit stop? Was expecting ya earlier" She says to the boys. Crossing her arms over her chest "You lot a little young for federal marshals aren't you?" Jaffe says, still suspicious. "Thanks. That awfully kind of you" Dean chuckles cockily, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. "You did have another one just like this, correct?" Dean presses his question, walking around the side of the car where Hein is.

"Yeah that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that" Jaffe confirms. "So the victim. You knew him?" Sam asks. "Town like this. Everybody knows everybody". Jaffe nods. "Any connections between the victims besides the fact that they're all men?" Y/N asks curiously. "No, not so far as we can tell" Jaffe says.

"So what's the theory?" Sam asks as he moves follows Deans movements to the side of the car in question and Y/N follows Sam. "Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" Jaffe says honestly.

"Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect from you" Dean says sarcastically. Sam stamps on his foot and Y/N elbows him in his ribs the same time. A smile on his face towards the deputy while Jaffe looks at the trio suspiciously.

"Thank you for your time" Y/N says, a sweet smile on her face. "Gentleman" Sam greets the officers before walking past Dean. Y/N and Dean following behind. Y/N sees the seething look on Deans face. "Don't you dare think about it Winchester" She mumbles. Dean huffs, tapping his brother on his head and Y/N rolls her eyes.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Sam mutters angrily to his brother. "Why you gotta step on my foot?" He says back angrily "And you missy, why you gotta elbow my ribs" He points his finger at Y/N, rubbing his right ribs. "Why do you have to talk to police like that?" Y/N retorts back angrily. The argument between the three subsides as Sam turns to Y/N, a smile on his face.

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. "I missed you too Sammy" Y/N says chuckling at the sudden affection, though she meant it. "I didn't know you were coming" Sam says smiling.

He ruffles her hair as they pull away from the hug. "Dean called me, told me your dad hasn't been home in a couple days. Looks like I'm on the family emergency contact list" Y/N jokes, looking over at Dean, his head to the floor slightly. Indicating he's feeling a bit left out.

"Come here youuu" She says teasingly, wrapping her arms around Deans shoulders. His arms automatically go around her waist, burying his face in her neck, he smiles into the hug. Sam smirks at this and wiggles his eyebrows at his eyebrows at his brother suggestively. Knowing where Sam is getting at Dean flips off his younger brother the bird, meanwhile Y/N is oblivious to this.

"Still a short stack aren't ya princess" Dean teases. Y/N pulls away, tapping Dean on his shoulder while Sam laughs, agreeing with Dean. "Shut it you morons, I can still kick both your asses" Y/N threatens them, pointing her fingers at the brothers while they chuckle.

"Those cops don't know squat. If we're gonna find your dad, we gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves" Y/N changes the subject. Sam looks over her shoulder, clearing his throat. An man who looks like the sheriff with two real FBI agents behind him asks the trio. "Can I help you guys?"

"No sir, we were just leaving" Dean says and they begin walking to their respective vehicles. Not before mocking the two agents "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully" Y/N says. Dean biting back a laugh at her humor.

"You still driving that gorgeous 67' I see" Y/N eyes Baby up and down, wolf whistling. "Course I am, Baby's a chick magnet here" Dean smirks proudly, patting the hood of the Impala. Y/N snorts and Sam rolls his eyes. "Still riding that stunning Harley I see" Dean nods over to her bike. "Course I am. She's my pride and joy" Y/N smirks, echoing Deans words.

Picking up her helmet "Race you to town?" She challenges. "You're on, Princess" Dean retorts, jumping in baby and they're off.

________________________________

Now walking through town, Dean spots a young lady putting up missing persons posters with Tory Squire on them. Putting two and two together , this must be the deputy's daughter "I'll bet you that's her" He says. "Yeah" Sam agrees.

They walk up to her "You must be Amy" Dean inquires. "Yeah" she confirms. "Troy told us about you, we're his uncles and aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and this is Y/N" Dean introduces everybody. "He never mentioned you to me" Amy says walking away, they follow behind her.

"Yeah, that's Troy. I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto" Dean lies causally. "So we're looking for him too and we're kind of asking around" Sam says and a young lady who seems to know Amy asks her "Hey you okay?"

"Yeah" Amy reassures. "You lovely ladies mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Y/N asks the girls nicely, hoping to make them less weary. They agree.

Y/N's POV

We're all now sitting in a diner booth. The girls across from us. Sam on the inner part of the booth, me in the middle and Dean to the end. His arm rests on the top of the seat, practically around me.

"I was on the phone with Troy, he was driving home. He said he would call me right back. And, uh, he never did" Amy explains the events of the night Troy went missing. "He didn't say anything strange? Or out of the ordinary?" Sam inquires. "No, nothing I can remember" Amy shakes her head.

"Here's the deal ladies" Dean says leaning forward, arms now on the table. "The way Troy disappeared. Somethings not right. So if you've heard anything..." Dean trails off and I notice the girls have a skeptical look in their faces. Looking at each other. They're hiding something.

"What is it girls?" Y/N asks. "Well it's just ....I mean with all these guys going missing. People talk" Amy's friend says. "What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean say in perfect unison, causing me to jump a bit. Jesus. Brothers.

She looks at Amy before continuing "Its kinda this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes. And whoever picks her up. Well they...disappear forever" She finishes and the tree of us share a look.

We're in the library now. Deans researching the info the girls gave us on the computer and sitting between me and Sam. No hits come on on 'Murder on Centennial'. "Let me try" Sam goes to take the keyboard but Dean slaps his hand away harshly "Got it" he says annoyed.

Sam pushes him away, rolling his chair behind his and I snicker at their childish behavior. "Dude!" He exclaims, tapping Sams shoulder "You're such a control freak" he grumbles, fixing his chair behind the two of us. And Sam types. Then something dawns on me.

"Wait, aren't angry spirits born out of violent death?" I ask. "Yeah" Dean nods confirming. I push Sams chair away "Dude!" He exclaims like Dean did, tapping my shoulder. Dean snickers at the instant karma. I type on the computer "Maybe it's not murder" I say and I type 'Suicide on Cenntenial' and got a hit on an article.

"Sharp thinking princess" Dean smirks, patting me on the small of my back. I smirk "Thanks charming". Sam begins reading the article. "1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in river" Sam reads out loud. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asks "Yeah" I say. "What?" Dean asks.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back. They're not breathing. Both die" I briefly summarize the article, skimming through it. "Hmm" Dean hums.

"Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it. Said husband, Joseph Welch" Sam quotes the article and I notice a picture of the bridge we were on earlier. "That bridge look familiar to you fellas?" I ask rhetorically, pointing to the picture on the screen.

Later in the night we were at the bridge where Constance jumped to her death. We walk to the edge, looking down. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive" Dean says. I grimace at the sight of the dirty mucky water. The scent filling my nose and I resist the urge to gag.

"So you think your dad would have been here?" I ask, while we all look down at the river. "Well he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him" Dean says and we all begin to walk down the bridge. "Okay so now what?" Sam asks. "Now we keep digging till we find him. Might take a while" Dean says.

"Dean, I told you I have to get back..." Sam starts and they both finish "...By Monday" they say in unison. Brothers. Scares me everytime.

"Right. The interview. Yeah I forgot" Dean nods. "You're really serious about this aren't you" I ask Sam, crossing my arms over my chest. "You think you're just gonna become some lawyer. Marry your girl?" Dean says. "Maybe. Why not?" Sam shrugs.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? About what you've done?" Dean presses. "No and she's not ever going to know" Sam says, walking up to Dean and I. I stand in-between them, already knowing somebody's gonna either get pushed or punched. "Well that's healthy." Dean retorts sarcastically . "Come on Dean, don't start" I warn him calmly, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"No y/n/n, he can pretend all he wants. But, sooner or later, you're gonna have to own up to who you really are Sammy" Dean walks back down the bridge towards Baby after saying this. Sam follows behind "And who's that?" Sam queries, agitation in his voice. "One of us" Dean says as if it's obvious, gesturing between me and him.

"No, I'm not like either of you. This is not going to be my life" Sam says kinda disgusted. Ouch, but valid. "You have a responsibility" Dean says. "To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam says, his eyes welling with tears. "If it weren't for pictures. Me and y/n wouldn't even know what our moms look like." Ohhhh boy, here we go. The look on Deans face alone could scare a toddler.

"What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed them...they're gone. And they're never coming back" Sam finishes and Dean pushes me gently to the side from in between them. He grabs Sam and slams him against the edge of the bridge. "Woah Dean! Easy!" I try pulling Dean off of his brother but his grip is too strong.

"Don't talk about them like that" Deans tone is deadly. He lefts Sam go and turns to me. "Sorry for pushing you Princess" He says sincerely, I nod reassuring him. I look behind him and I see a woman standing at the ledge of the bridge in a white dress. "Uh....fellas...." I point at the woman. They look in the direction I'm pointing at. She turns to look at us for a second before allowing herself to fall off.

We all run towards the area where she threw herself. Looking over the edge, we don't see anything. "Where'd she go?" Dean asks. "I don't know" Sam breathes out. All of a sudden we hear Baby's engine starting. Her headlights flickering. "What the....." Dean says stunned.

Then Quinn starts, her engine roaring. The headlights flicker just like Dean's car. "Who the hell is driving your car and bike?" Sam asks us. Me and Dean hold out the keys to our vehicles, still stunned. Then the Impala and Harley tires start screeching, driving towards us. "Boys! Go! GO!" We all split into action, running away from the vehicles.

They gain on us and the three of us hurl ourselves off the edge of the bridge. Me and Dean end up slipping off the ledge, falling into the river while Sam grabs onto the ledge and pulls himself back up when the coast is clear. Baby and Quinn come to a stop.

Me and Dean fish ourselves out of the mucky water, laying on the shore edge. "Dean! Y/N!" Sam screams before seeing us. "Hey, you guys alright?" He asks worried. "We're super" Dean yells back sarcastically and I give him a weak thumbs up. Sam laughs at our state and we go to make our way back up the bridge.

I pull myself up and give my hand to Dean who's still laying on the floor like he's half dead. "Get up piglet, we gotta get back up" I tease him while groaning in pain, he huffs taking my hand and pulling himself up. "Shut it, you're covered too" He chuckles while groaning in pain from the impact too.

We're back up on the bridge checking on our vehicles. Quinn seems alright and I'm sure so is Baby. "Your car and bike alright?" Sam ask the both of us. "Yeah whatever she did to it, it seems alright now" Dean says. I nod assuring that my bikes ok. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!!" I scream out over the bridge in frustration because she almost hurt my girl.

"Well she doesn't want us digging around that's for sure" Sam says. Dean leans on the hood of the Impala, I follow and so does Sam. "So, where's the trail go from here geniuses" Sam asks the both of us.

Dean throws his hands up in defeat, grimacing at the smelly mud all over our skin and I scoff. Sam smells the air before turning to us "You guys smell like a toilet" Neither of us answer, Dean's head drops while I turn to glare at Sam. He smirks at me snickering.

Now at a motel, Dean plops his credit card on the book in-front of the receptionist. "One room please"

The man picks up the card, looking at it in recognition. "You guys having a reunion or something?" The age-able man queries. My eyes cork up at this. "What do you mean?" Sam asks now curious. "That other guy Burt Aframian, he came and bought out a room for the whole month" The man tells us whilst typing on his computer to book us a room. The boys and I share a knowing look. John was here.

We find out what room John was in. Currently I'm on my knees picking the lock to room 10. Sam and Dean have their backs turnt to me, looking out incase someone sees us. After about a minute, I hear a click and I slide my trusty hairpin out of the knob.

I open the door and walk in but Sam and Dean don't seem to notice, still looking out. I grab them both by their collars and roughly pull them into the room, locking the door behind us. We look around the room for a couple seconds and Dean goes over to the lamp, turning it on.

I notice the walls lining with paper of what seems to be Johns research on the case he was working here. Dean spots a day old sandwich and sniffs it. Gagging at the smell. "Ugh" He plops the sandwich back down. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least" He states the obvious.

"Yeah, no kidding Sherlock" I say sarcastically and Dean rolls his eyes at my dry tone. Sam stoops to the ground, dusting it with his fingers to find "Salt. Cats-eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in" Sam says getting back up. Dean notices what I'm staring at, it's the victims.

"What do you got here?" Sam asks, walking over to us. "Centennial Highway victims" I state. "I don't get it." Dean says and I see Sam walking over to the other side of the room. "They're different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection right? What do these guys have in common?" Dean ponders.

I walk over to Sam, my eyes scanning for the lord written in the wall. I catch something at the corner of my eye, walking a couple steps I turn on the lamp and I nudge Sam to check it out. I internally laugh, shaking my head. John Winchester, you smart son of a bitch. Of course you figured it out.

Sam chuckles ironically "Dad figured it out" he says. "What do you mean?" Dean asks. "He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's our woman in white" I say. Dean turns back to the wall looking at the pictures of Constance's victims. "You sly dogs" he says almost as if he's complimenting the unfaithful presumably deceased men.

"Alright so if we're dealing with a Woman in White. Dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it" Dean states. "She might have another weakness" Sam says. "No. Dad would wanna make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Dean asks walking over to us, looking at the notes on the wall.

"No, not that we can tell" Sam answers. "If I were your dad though, I'd go ask her husband" I say, point to the picture of Joseph Welch on the wall. "If he's still alive" Sam adds. "Alright why don't you see if you can find an address. Me and y/n gotta get cleaned up" Dean says and I clutch my duffel bag with my clothes on my shoulder.

"Hey guys?" Me and Dean turn to Sam. "What I said about Mom and Dad earlier. And your mom, y/n. I'm sorry" Sam says guiltily and sincerely. Dean puts up his hand stopping Sam. "No chick-flick moments" Dean says and Sam chuckles, I shake my head laughing. "Alright, Jerk" Sam says. "Bitch" Dean retorts.

"Oh shut it, you're a sucker for Notting Hill" I quipped teasing him, bumping Deans hip with mine causing Sam to laugh. "Hey! Julia Roberts don't count! That woman is a national treasure!" Dean exclaims defending himself. Sam bends over clutching his stomach in laughter. "Yeah...sure" I laugh ironically before pushing him when he least expects it.

"DIBS ON THE BATHROOM!" I yell, bolting to the bathroom whilst Dean stumbles on himself trying to catch his balance. I lock the door behind me quickly and Dean bangs on it. "Ahhh screw you ya nutcase!" He yells frustrated. "You wish asshat!" I retort back laughing and getting ready for my nice hot long shower.

After my shower, Dean goes in and me and Sam are left outside. Sam tried calling his girlfriend and I'm on the chair, smoking a cigarette by the window. Texting my dad and updating him about the case. Dean walks out of the bathroom, putting on his jacket and takes off the light.

"You used up all the hot water y/n" Dean says. I chuckle, taking the last puff of my cigarette and outing it. "Snooze you lose, Winchester" I smile widely at him, winking. He scoffs and chuckles at this. "I'm starving, I'm gonna grab something to eat at that diner down the street. You two want anything" He asks the both of us.

"No" Sam says. "Aframians buying" Dean says smiling and Sam shakes his head. "I'll take my usual please" I smile. "(Your favorite food/usual order) and (Your favorite soda/milkshake) coming right up, Princess" He smirks at me, winking. My heart flutters at that smile he gave me and the wink he sent my way. The fact that he remember my order. But I cover it up with returning the cocky wink "Thanks charming"

When Dean leaves I turn to Sam. We haven't really been alone for us to talk like we usually do so I take the chance now. "Hey Sammy?" I say softly. "It's Sam" he groans in annoyance at me calling him Sammy. "Whatever you say Sammy" I grin widely at him, getting back to my serious expression. He looks at me curiously. "What's wrong y/n/n?" He asks.

"I just want you to know. I don't blame you for going back to college after this case. Your brother might not be very warm and cuddly about it but you know how he is. He loves you and misses you. You're making the right choice" I say. He sighs sadly and I put my hand on his shoulder.

"You of all people deserved a shot at the Apple pie life. So does Dean. He would never admit it because he's too stubborn but he'd kill for the apple pie life you're hoping to achieve." I reassure Sam, he looks at me smiling sadly.

"You do too Y/N." He says softly. I take my hand off his shoulder shaking my head. "I don't want that. I'm where I need to be" I assure him and Sam chuckles shaking his head. "You're just as stubborn girly" He teases me and I lightly punch his shoulder. "Shut up dipshit" I say laughing.

"Never, crackhead" He laughs punching my shoulder back. God I missed my best friend. "I gotta say though" I say, a smirking taking over my face. "Jess is quite a foxy lady" I compliment his girlfriend and he smiles proudly.

"I'll never get what she sees in you" I added causing his smile to drop and me to laugh. "You're dead to me" he said flatly and I laugh louder. "I love you too Sammy" I pat his shoulder. I go to sit back down but my phone rings.

Metallica blurring from the ringtone of my phone. Sam gives me a "really?" look and I just roll my eyes taking my phone out of my pocket. It's Dean. "That's some speedy delivery. You're in for a great tip." I tease him over the phone but he doesn't respond with his usual banter.

"Guys. Five - 0. Take off." Dean says quickly. Me and Sam stand up now panicking on the low. "What about you?" Sam asks his brother concerned. "Ah, they kind of spotted me. Go find dad" Dean says and abruptly hangs up. Son of a bitch.

Me and Sam tiptoe over to the curtain by the front door. Pulling it open slightly we see a deputy walking towards it and Jaffe, the deputy from the bridge, questioning Dean. We hurry to the window I was smoking by and we open it up, grabbing our stuff we shimmy out fatasses out of the window and make a break for Baby.

We decided to go to Joseph Welch's house, husband of Constance Welch, the Woman in White, and question him. I settled for leaving Quinn at the motel as much as it broke my heart. The cops would've heard her if I started her.

________________________________

I knock on Mr. Welch's door. Within a couple seconds he opens it. He takes a second glance at me before looking at Sam. "Hi, are you Joseph Welch?" I ask nicely. "Yeah" he confirms, eyeing me up and down.

We're now walking through his yard and Sam shows him a photo of him, John and Dean from the 80s, asking Mr. Welch if he had come by at anytime. "Yeah. He was older but that's him" Mr. Welch confirms that John was here. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter" he said.

"That's right. We're working a story together" Sam lies to keep our cover. "Well I don't know what the hell know of story you're working on. The questions he asked me..." Mr. Welch trailed off and I injected "About your late wife, Constance"

"He asked me where she was buried" He said. "And where was that again?" Sam asks and I mentally facepalm. Real smooth Sammy. Real smooth. "What? I gotta go through this twice" Mr. Welch said slightly agitated. "It's just fact checking sir, if you don't mind." I say calmly, he eyes me up and down again before nodding. Sam notices this too.

"In a plot, behind my old place over on Breckenridge." He tells us where she's buried. "Why did you move?" Sam asks. "I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died" Mr. Welch stated obviously. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" I ask him.

"No way, Constance. She was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I've ever known" He assures us as if he's trying to convince us and himself. "So you had a happy marriage?" Sam asks and Welch hesitates for a second before saying "Definitely" he says.

Sam and I share a look before he takes a deep breath. "Well that should do it sir. Thank for your time" I say we pretend to walk off. Sam takes out the keys to baby and I look at him with a "I'm gonna do it" look. He nods and I call out for Mr. Welch.

"Mr. Welch, you ever heard of a woman in white?" Welch turns around confused. "A what?" He asks. "A woman in white. Or sometimes a weeping woman" Sam repeats my words, explaining it further. "It's a ghost story. Well..." I start to explain and I chuckle. "It's more of a phenomenon, really" We start walking back towards Mr. Welch.

"They're spirits. They've been sighting for hundreds of years. Dozens of places" I say, looking over to Sam to continue. "In Hawaii, in Mexico. Lately in Arizona, Indiana." As he lists the places I hold up my fingers, counting them. "All these are different women you understand but all share the same story". Sam says

"Kids, I don't care much for nonsense" Mr. Welch says now aggravated, turning to walk off but I stop him. "See when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women basically suffering from temporary insanity murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done. They took their own lives" I explain and Sam takes over.

"So now their spirits are cursed. Walking backroads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man. They kill him. And that man is never seen again" Sam further digs. "You think.....You think that has something to do with....Constance. You smartasses!" Mr. Welch, now horrified at the possibility, breathes heavily.

"You tell me. You hesitantly claimed you had happy marriage but by the way you were checking out my friend here... I'd beg to differ" Sam says, his gaze soft. Ohhh that's cold. "I mean, maybe, maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance, she never would've killed her own children. Now you two get the hell outta here! And you don't come back!" Mr. Welch shuns us angrily, shaking trying to hold back tears.

"Jesus Sam, that was a bit cold" I say as we walk back to the car. Sam sighs opening baby and jumping in, opening the passenger side from inside for me. "One man was unfaithful and now people are dying. I'm not saying they're saints but it's messed up" He says putting the car in reverse driving off.

I sigh, "That's the job for ya, hey, gimme your phone" without hesitation he gives me his phone "Sure, what for?" He asks while in dialing. "You'll see" I smirk putting the phone to my ear. I take my gun out from my waist, rolling down the window and aiming it out the window to the sky.

"Y/N what're you doing?" Sam questions now worried. I shush him with a finger to my lips. "911 what's your emergency?" The lady operator says on the line. I let out a fake scream and Sam now realizes what I'm doing, holding back his laughter.

"Help!! Please!! My husband and the neighbor are f- " I pull the trigger before I could finish the sentence. A ear piercing scream leaves my throat "HE HAS A GUN PLEASE!! HELP US!" Sam is biting his fist from laughing. "The blood!! Oh the blood! HONEY!!" I quickly give the operator address on the other side of where we are and hang up handing it back to Sam who is hysterical.

"You..really are ...a crackhead.." He says in-between laughs and I chuckle. "Whatever dipshit" I retort. Within a couple minutes my phone rings. I answer putting it on speaker. "Fake 911 phone call, princess. I don't know. That's pretty illegal. Aren't you a bad girl?" Dean teases me from over the phone.

I scoff rolling my eyes as Sam chuckles, grimacing at the last part of Deans sentence. "You're welcome, charming" I chuckle. "Listens guys we gotta talk" Dean starts to say but Sam interrupts. "Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Woman in White. And she's buried behind her old house so that should be our next stop."

Dean cuts Sam off "Sammy would you shut up for a second?" Dean tries to interject but Sam continues "We just can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet" Sam rambles. "Well that's what I'm trying to tell you two. He's gone. Dad left Jericho" Dean says.

"What? How do you know?" I say surprising, my mouth agape. "I've got his journal" Dean says. My jaw falls further, practically on the floorboard of Baby. "He doesn't go anywhere without that thing" Sam says. "Yeah, well, he did this time" Dean says. "What's it say?" I ask. "Same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going" Dean explains what's written.

"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam confirms. "Dean, what the hell is going on?" I question now confused and irritated by the vague messages John's leaving. Suddenly Sam hits the brakes of the car and my phone slips out of my hand. I catch a glimpse of the Woman in White infront of the car before he hurls straight through her.

"Sam! Y/N!?" I hear Dean yell for us from the phone that's now on the floorboard. Me and Sam try catching our breath. "Take me home" is all we hear, the woman in white appears in the back of the Impala. Looking at Sam. We don't answer and she says again, more irritated this time.

"Take.Me.Home" I can see her ghost flicker, I reach into my boots to grab to iron knuckle cuffs, gripping it in my hand "No" He says sternly, holding his ground. The doors of the car lock automatically, trapping us in. We try opening our sides but it's stuck. The Impala is now driving itself to Constance's old house where she killed her kids. Me and Sam still trying for the doors.

"GODDAMIT!!" I yell in frustration, punching the window with my iron knuckle cuff but it barely cracks. We pull up to her house, against our will, and baby shuts off. "Don't do this" I plead with her but she doesn't seem interested in me, expected. "I can never go home" She says in a somber voice, her ghost flickering.

"You're scared to go home" Sam says and it clicks. She's scared to face her kids. In a split second, she was in the middle of me and Sam. A force throws me to the backseat, pinning me down and she jumps on top of Sam, straddling him. "Get off of him you bitch!" I scream at her. "Hold me, I'm so cold" she breathes out needy.

I cringe at this and break out of her hold. I reach over and punch her with the iron knuckle cuff ring. She disapparates, but not for long. "You okay Sammy??" I reach over to help him, before he could answer. She appears back on his lap. Backing handing to the back seat. The knuckle cuffs fly out my hand and onto the floor in the back seat.

"You can't kill me, I'm not unfaithful I've never been" Sam argues, groaning in pain as she passes her hand along his skin. "You will be" she says before kissing him. "YOU SICK BITCH!" I try to get out of her hold but the force is too strong.

Sam struggles to turn the keys in the ignition. She disappears for a quick seconds and we both look around. Sam starts screaming in pain "SAM!!!" I yell, feeling powerless that I can't do more, I see the knuckle cuffs at the corner of my eye, I try reaching for it but it's too far.

She appears back on him, her face now decayed. Her fingers digging into Sam's chest. "NO!!" My voice is pained, still attempting to reach the cuffs. I finally get a hold of the cuffs, gunshots ringing through the driver seat window. I see Dean outside of the Impala shooting Constance.

"My hero" I grumble sarcastically to myself at the fact that Dean is shooting a ghost. I throw the iron cuffs at her again, this time seems to work a little better. Sam gets up and starts the car. "Take her home Sammy" I say and Sam nods curtly. Driving Baby head first into Constance's house to face her kids.

"Sam! Y/N!" Dean yells but the impact from the crash, throws me over into the front seat. How? Don't ask me. "Guys!?" Dean yells for us. "Here!" I yell back to catch his attention. "You two okay? Can you move?" He asks, moving a piece of wood from infront the window. "Yeah, help us" Sam says groaning in pain.

I feel a bump starting to form on my head. Dean pulls me out from the passenger side and I lean on the side of his car. Next taking Sam out. "There you go" He says holding Sam up and checking on me, I give him a thumbs up and we see Constance infront of us, holding an old picture of herself.

Her eyes flicker up to us angrily, she tosses the picture aside and a chest of drawers come hurling towards us, pinning us again the wall by our mid regions. We groan trying to push it off but it wouldn't budge. The lights in the house start flickering and we all look around.

The stairs starts leaking water, assuming that's foreshadowing the water she used to drown her kids. The boys and I look up the starts to see the shadow of two kids holding hands. "You've come home to us, Mommy." They say in unison, reminding me of when the boys speak in perfect unison.

Shit gave me the heebie jeebies.

They appear behind a terrified Constance and they start hugging. Constance is a screaming mess, her spirit flickering from decayed to her normal self. She and the kids spirit diminish, melting to the ground where the water from upstairs is leaking. That has got to be where she drowned them.

Once her spirit is gone, the boys and I look at each other. Grunting from the pain, we push the chest of drawer over with an ease compared to earlier. We walk towards the puddle of water. "So this is where she drowned her kids" Dean states the obvious. "Thats why she could never go home" I say and Sam nods. "She was too scared to face them" Sam confirms.

"You guys found her weak spot. Nice work kids" Dean pats Sam on his chest and me on my head and we laugh in pain. "Yeah I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?" Sam mocks his brother and I laugh rubbing my head. "Hey. Saved your asses" Dean defends, pointing at us.

"No smartass, it was my ironcuffs" I snort holding it up to show him, joining in on making fun of Dean. "Whatever" Dean grumbles. He puts his hands to his knees bending down. "I'll tell you another thing. If you guys screwed up my car....I'll kill ya both " He threatens me and Sam and I snicker.

"Yeah, be sure to burn my body. Before you shoot my ghost when I haunt ya" I quipped, Dean glares at me and Sam laughs and we high-five.

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Third Person POV

Sam and Dean are driving down the empty road. Y/N on her bike side by side to the Impala. Dean glances at her, admiring her physique. He admires her a lot, the way she handles herself on hunts. She did a hell of a job today. Growing up together he watched her go from a timid shy girl to a confident badass woman.

He holds her in high regard, never backing down from a fight. Her smartass mouth keeps him on edge, she always finds a way to keep him in his toes. Sure he dropped his flirty comments here and there and so did she. But Dean would never do anything to mess their friendship up.

He cherishes their friendship too much to allow himself to let his little crush ruin that. Even if he doesn't accept his feelings for her. Growing up together he protected her the way he did for Sam.

Feeling a sense of responsibility for her. He missed her this past year. He doesn't regret calling her to come on the search for their father, he feels bad never called before even though he wanted to.

She wanted her space to grow and he respected that, unlike her father.

Sam is talking Deans ear off about some place their dad should be after analyzing the coordinates he left in the journal for them. He realizes his brother isn't paying attention to him, looking over to see Dean staring at Y/N riding next to the Impala.

He smirks at this, knowing his brother has had a bit of a crush on Y/N for a couple years now. Y/N has liked Dean basically her whole life but would never admit it to Sam. To protect their friendship but he doesn't mind. They're good for each other. Too damn stubborn to admit it though.

"You're still crushing on her" Sam teases his brother, this sentence snaps Dean out of his daydreaming and his head spins to his younger brother. "The hell are you talking about? I do not have a crush on Y/N dude. She's like my little sister" Dean scoffs denying the fact.

Sam chuckles shaking his head. Stubborn ass.

"Yeah, sure" Sam says ironically, changing the subject, he tells Dean that their Dad went to Blackwater Ridge Colorado.

"How far?" Dean asks. "About 600 miles" Sam tells him, flashing the light on the map. "If we shag ass we could make it by morning" Dean says looking at Sam and back to Y/N next to baby.

Sam looks at his brother awkwardly. "Dean, um...." Dean turns away disappointed, staring at the road. "You're not going" He says turning back to Sam. "The interview is in like 10 hours. I gotta be there" Sam tries to reason with his brother.

Dean nods sadly, "Yeah. Yeah whatever. I'll take to home." He says and Sam turns the light off. Dean makes a turn to lead onto the highway.

Outside, Y/N notices this turn and follows them, she assumes they're dropping Sam back to Stanford. It saddens her to know she might not see her greatest friend for a long time but she knows it's for the best. It's what he deserves.

They arrive in front of Sam's apartment. Y/N parks her bike infront on the Impala and turns her engine off. She takes off her helmet and hops off her bike at the same time Sam is getting out of Deans car.

Taking her time to walk towards the brothers she hears Sam say, while he's leaning down to face Dean in the window after he closes the passenger door. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam half promises. "Yeah all right" Dean nods, not convinced and Sam taps the door twice.

Dean starts his engine while Sam turns to Y/N. "Sam? Y/N?" He calls out for his brother and best friend. They turn to him. "You know we made a hell of a team back there." Y/N nods sadly "Yeah" he responds. Turning back to Y/N, he smiles at his longest friend sadly.

"Don't give me that look boy, you better lawyer it up when I call your ass from jail to bail me out" Y/N attempts to ease the situation by joking. Sam chuckles and pulls her into a hug. Wrapping his arms around her shoulder, she wraps hers around his waist.

Quickly wiping the tear that's been threatening to fall from her eyes so they don't see. He ruffles her hair for what he thinks is the last time and says "Hang in there kid". She scoffs lightly punching his shoulder.

"You're only a couple months older, now go before I kick your ass" she pretends to chase him while he walks to his apartment. Y/N sighs sadly, turning to the Impala and jumping in the passenger seat. She sees Dean isn't facing her, his eyes on the driver side window and that could only mean one thing.

Placing her hand on his shoulder she says, "He'll be okay Dean". He turns to her, his face stained in a couple tears. Her heart breaks seeing this "Come here" she ushers him to hug her, he leans into her chest. Allowing a couple more tears to fall from his eyes to her chest.

She comforts him as he always did her, reassuring him that Sam will be alright. That his little brother loves him. That she will always be there for him. Stroking his hair, she feels butterflies fill her stomach now realizing their position. She tells herself now is not the time or place.

Ignoring it but she can't help but feel something is wrong. Like if something is going to happen. It's been bugging her all day. Dean starts chuckling a little at her words earlier to Sam.

"Don't give me that look boy, you better lawyer it up when I call your ass from jail to bail me out"

Even in a time like this, Y/N is the only person who could put a smile on his face. "What're you laughing at" Y/N asks, chuckling with him, confused how he went from crying to laughing. Before he could tell her, they hear Sam scream "NO!!" Pain in his voice.

They snap out of it, bolting out of Deans car. They kick the door down to Sam's apartment. A blast of heat gushes out through the door "Sam!" Dean yells for his brother. Y/N smells smoke.

'Oh no. This is it. This is the bad thing that was going to happen'. Y/N thinks to herself. "JESS!!" Sam screams in agony, Dean and Y/N rush to Sam's room.

Upon running in they see Jess pinned to the ceiling, engulfed in flames. No fucking way.

"Sam! Sam!" Y/N and Dean yell. "NO!! NO!!" Sam screams still on the bed, blocking himself from the flames.

"We gotta get out of here!" Dean screams, he and y/n pull Sam off the bed. Hauling him out of the room. "JESS!! JESS!! NO!!" Sam screams in shock. They make it out of the apartment in time before the blast takes over the whole building.

________________________________

Hours have passed since Jess' death. Dean is looking at the burning building being sprayed by the firefighters. His mind flashing back to that unfaithful night when his mother was killed. His heart grieves for Sam knowing that pain is now twice as hard on his little brother, who he fought so hard to protect.

Sam spent the first hour crying into Dean and Y/N's arms. Currently at the trunk of the Impala, he's loading his rifle, a grim look on his face while tears still fall from his eyes.

Y/N's heart pains seeing her best friend like this. Leaning against Baby's boot, taking a drag from her cigarette in this stressful time. A habit she picked up from her father. Sam ushers her to pass it. She looks at him surprised. "You sure?" he just nods curtly.

He hands Y/N the rifle, as Dean approaches them, so she can finish loading it. Passing the almost burnt out bud to him, Sam takes a few pulls, letting the smoke out. Before finishing it, flicking it to the ground and crushing it with his boot.

Turning to face his elder brother. Y/N throws the gun into the trunk. "We've got work to do fellas" She says grimly and Sam shuts the trunk.

Authors Note

So this chapter was supposed to be uploaded since last night but right after I finished proofreading and editing. My dumbass accidentally deleted the entire chapter!

The tears that were shed. Holy Fuckk. That's a pain I never wanna go through again. And I've watched all 15 seasons of Supernatural😂

Anyways. I hope whoever is reading that enjoyed the first episode. I'll try my best to finish the next one by Thursday for the latest. I'm planning to do a lot with Y/N's character. I'm trying to avoid leaving plot holes but I'm kinda new to consistent writing so bare with me.

Update

I forgot to add in the fact that Sam and Deans mom grew up with Y/N's parents. I added into the prologue. Please forgive my lack of planning. Xoxo

[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

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My Masterlist!

[desomniis]

to ask for your hand (I just pray that its mine) | Chapter 4 excerpt

After clinching his third career win at the Vegas GP, Carlos wakes up to a wedding band on his finger and his teammate, Charles, wearing the exact match.

WIP | 4/5 | 28,797 words | Accidental Drunk Marriage in Vegas AU | Fluff | Angst | Drama

Down below, the circuit was a bright outline against the night. Another season, another gruelling race in Singapore.

The skyline was an architectural marvel. It was stunning during the day, but at night? it looked like a rare jewel sparkling against the black velvet night. To witness such magnificence on top of the Marina Bay Sands—dipped in the infinity pool, no less—with no one else around was a indeed privilege.

In his mind, he traced the track, imagining his car passing through Anderson bridge, making the tight left at 13 to the Esplanade Drive. Then the apex at 14, then 15, 16—a splash from the other end of the pool startled him. Charles?

Carlos was pretty sure it was Charles, the rookie this season. They never really ‘talked’ before. Their conversations always happened in passing, going along the lines off, ‘How are you? Good? How’s your car? Not good on the tires.’ He knew little about him—only that he was from Monaco and that he was set to replace Kimi at Ferrari next year. A rookie replacing a world champion. Unheard of. This kid must be a huge deal.

“It’s a beautiful city, no?” Carlos ventured. He winced inside, remembering Papá's advice about small talk and F1 drivers.

Charles jolted, his hand flying to his chest, accidentally splashing water to his own face. “Oh my god, you scared me.”

Carlos chuckled. “You’re quite jumpy, eh?” he teased, settling on the ledge next to him.

“A little,” Charles admitted with a sheepish smile. “What are you doing here? It’s a bit late, no?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I didn’t get much sleep on the flight here.”

“Tell me about it. 20 hour flights are no joke.”

“True,” Charles said. “Any tips for tomorrow? I’ve never raced here before. My first time. So, I’m a little nervous.”

A smirk crept up Carlos lips. “Have you passed out in a race before?”

“Uh, no? I don’t think so.”

“Well, here, try not to. It’s almost guaranteed.”

”What? That’s impossible.”

“Also, you might drive blind on some corners.”

“Why—”

“Don’t even get me started about the rain. Singapore is a totally different race if it rains.”

Worry flitted through Charles' eyes, swallowing a lump on his throat. “Oh yeah?” he said, trying to hide his discomfort.

Carlos held onto his laughter. He nodded seriously, “yeah. Seven DNF’s last year.”

Charles visibly got more anxious, the horrors of last year’s race flashing in his eyes. “Ah, putain,” he muttered under his breath.

Carlos’ laughter eventually bubbled forth.

“What? Why are you laughing?” Charles questioned, his brows knitting together.

“I was kidding. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

“I—Oh… you were trying to scare me.” Charles smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Making fun of the rookie, I see.”

“Don’t worry,” Carlos wiped the tears from his eyes. “Vettel and Fernando did it to me in my rookie year too. Except they waited a day before telling me it’s not that bad. I remember not sleeping that night.”

Charles laughed, and Carlos was struck. There was something about his laugh that resonated deep in Carlos’ chest, like the melody of his childhood summers spent racing bicycles down sun-dappled streets, the wind tousling his hair as he pedalled faster. It was the echo of his first karting victory, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue as he stood atop the podium, trophy held high, amid deafening cheers and applause. It was Miguel’s call, on his last day, asking him to meet at the lake so that he could steal another kiss from Carlos. There was something in Charles’ laugh that made Carlos yearn to hear it more.

“Well, I guess I’ll consider myself lucky that it was not Vettel or Fernando then,” Charles said.

“Yeah. Lucky. Just sleep well and drink lots of water before the race and you’ll do fine. I’ve seen you drive. You’re good. I trust that you can make it.”

Charles's eyebrows lifted, his head tilting slightly to the left like a puppy hearing something strange. “Really?” he asked, “you think I’m good?”

Carlos can count in one hand the amount of times he complimented another driver. It wasn't that he didn't recognise talent in others—if he was being honest, there were plenty of drivers far better than him. But he rarely voiced such acknowledgements. It’s like offering your enemy an edge.

So when he did compliment Charles, it surprised him, almost catching him off guard. There was no logical explanation for it.

Perhaps it was because Charles was young and it was his first year in F1. He could vividly recall his own struggles as a rookie. Maybe, in his own way, it was him trying to help his younger self.

Or perhaps it was how easily Charles just opened up to Carlos. Paired with his dimples, the sheepish smile, and those earnest blue eyes pleading for advice. Carlos felt an instinctual urge to protect Charles.

Or perhaps, it was something else entirely.

“You don’t?” Carlos dodged the question.

"I do. It's just that... It's rare to hear it from another driver. Everyone else says I'm good, you know? 'You're so talented, Charles. So fast. You are destined to be in F1,'" he recounted. "But they say it from the outside looking in. They don’t really get it. But when another driver say it, it means a lot more. Because they understand. You understand."

Carlos nodded slowly, the weight of Charles' words settling on him. He knew that feeling all too well. The constant need to prove his own worth, that he deserved to compete with the best of the world, that it wasn’t all because of a privileged upbringing.

“Of course,” he said idly. “So, how does this feel? All of it—the hype, the pressure, the Ferrari seat next year?”

A hesitant smile touched Charles' lips, fleeting as the Monegasque breeze. “When I drove for practice for them last year, I felt like I was going to explode in the car. I felt buzzing in my ears and my hand couldn’t stop shaking. I thought I would crash. I’m quite happy that I didn’t.

“But what’s interesting was how it all felt strange to me. All my life I’ve dreamed of driving and winning in that red car. Not only me, my father and my godfather too. I carry all their dreams with me. Now that I have the chance to do that… it’s…” Charles trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Overwhelming," Carlos offered, a hint of longing creeping into his voice. "Being in that red car… it’s something else."

The last sentence hung heavy in the air, the weight of his secret, of his father's expectation, sat heavy in his gut.

Charles chuckled, a soft, nervous sound. "Yeah. It's like everyone expects me to be a champion overnight. But then there's the pressure from myself too, you know? Like I have to live up to all these expectations, not just mine but everyone else's too." He ran a hand through his hair, anxiety swimming in his eyes.

Carlos leaned back on the ledge of the pool, studying Charles. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that surprised him. This young prodigy, who seemed to have it all figured out, was wrestling with self-doubt just like everyone else.

"Hey," Carlos said gently, "You'll be alright. You're here for a reason. You have the talent, the drive... you'll get there eventually.”

A flicker of gratitude sparked in Charles' eyes. "Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate that. Coming from you, it means a lot."

The compliment hung in the air for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Carlos couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about Charles disarmed him.

"Are you hungry?" Carlos finally asked, surprising even himself with the question. "Do you want to have dinner with me?"

Charles’ eyes sparkled and his lips curved up, making Carlos’ chest feel warm, like it was about to blow open. Whether it was a good or bad sign, it didn’t matter because there was only one thing he was sure of:

He wanted to see Charles smile again.

Read the whole chapter here. Ask me questions!

[steveshairychest]

I wouldn't be mad if we got evil kas Eddie in season 5. Just imagine him waking up with no memory of who he was or how he got there and only knowing what Vecna tells him, 'you're my puppet' 'your friends left you' 'they don't even mourn you'

There's moments where he sees flashes of Dustin, of Erica and Steve, of fighting against something together, but the images are cloudy and their voices are distorted. There's a part of him that's desperately trying to tell him that the people he is fighting are his friends but he won't listen to it. He covers his ears like a child and screams for the voices to stop, to stop confusing him.

The people in front of him hold weapons and call him a name he has no memory of. "Eddie! No!" They shout and scream at him as he holds the curly haired boy by his throat. They don't dare come any closer because every time they try to take a step, he grips the boys throat just a little bit tighter. "Eddie, we're your friends- "

"I am not Eddie! Stop! Stop calling me that!" He screams at them, at the voice in his own head. His voice cracks for a reason unknown to him as he says, "I am Kas. You are not my friends." The words almost refused to leave his lips, he had to spit them out at the people who stood in front of him.

He doesn't want to look at the boy he held because every time his eyes fell on the boy's panicked face, a part of him screamed to let him go, to shove him away to safety, to protect him. "Consider this a taste of what is to come." He says before tightening his grip on the pleading boy's throat.

He doesn't get long to revel in their screams of fear and panic because something thuds against the back of his head causing him to stumble and release the boy. He whips around with a snarl and the last thing he sees is the boy in the denim vest swinging an oar right at his head.

[terrence-silver]

I have a prompt for CK Terry (Season 5) with a younger woman (say her 30s?):

Daniel & co. manage to execute another infiltration plan, but unlike with Chozen (as "Joe"), this plan actually works, and now they've got a woman on the inside, working as a spy. Her main goal is to find something - anything - incriminating about Terry Silver, and to get out. After a few months, she finds some dirt on him, but he catches her alone in the dojo before she can make her escape with the evidence. I'm imagining him as having trusted her and been attracted to her, but feel free to change his feelings to suit your desires (I'm hoping they will be suitably diabolical, as mine are!).

Thank you as always for your wonderful words!

FATALITY, FIDELITY, FORMALITY

(Terry Silver x Reader)

---

-"Find what you were looking for?"-

Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear that voice and a flash of everything you diligently strived to achieve so far goes collapsing in front of your eyes like a waking fever dream; Terry Silver was right behind you, standing on the threshold and he’s caught you rummaging through a study desk drawer and of course he made no sound, not even the most meager announcement of his presence or any of his movements, footsteps, as always, catching you unaware while somewhere deep down you desperately hoped that he too was human, and that he too, as such, would make the simple mistake of being at least barely audible when sneaking up on you so that you could avoid him. Intercept him. Cease whatever you were doing and make yourself scarce. Rely on the faint hope the coast would be clear while you were incriminating yourself like this. Stop before you were spotted, outright, bending over the work surface, hand gripping a manilla file in a heated rush. Once he moves forward, with a smile, leisurely, like he wasn’t in a hurry, you forget to breathe.

-"It amazes me that you’re really here thinking someone’s gonna throw a fit over a copy of a document on depleted Uranium from 1979. Most people don’t even know what that is."-

He was laughing. He was laughing at you.

Your panicking eyes dart back and forth between him and the folder you were squeezing for dear life, a sudden flash of shame washing over you like a searing hot shower, causing the top of your scalp to sweat and your guts to start coiling deep inside of you belly; point was, you spent six months alone just building up the territory and the trust to even dream of recovering as much as you recovered, feeling, no, being convinced you were on the verge of something important only for him to show up and snicker in your face like you were an idiot. An idiot going through a flash of so much dread you swore you were frozen stiff and unable to move. Terry Silver was a tough nut to crack. There was always insinuation of some sort of maliciousness and malpractice behind the corner, somewhere, out of reach, but never any concrete evidence and like a string pulled away before you could grab onto its end, you were always further and further away from discovering any actual dirt on the man. Not even continuous and meticulous Google searches yielded anything on him. It's like everything was scrubbed and his name was perfectly pristine. He was someone who was frighteningly clean where his reputation was concerned. Larusso’s firm sent you in to scoop out the place, but you couldn’t even find something as stereotypical as mistreatment of staff which was the go-to scandal with these big, rich guys. Making inappropriate passes at the maid. Being prejudiced towards the racial background of his chauffeur, for example. Not even that much. Terry Silver treated his employees surprisingly well and even amicably. Better than anyone you’ve ever seen so far. You gulp hard once you catch him stepping even closer; the grace of a panther.

You needed a defense for yourself. A way out. A lie. Anything.

Somehow to rationalize why you were going through his stuff like this.

But, it was all blank. Blank. Blank.

You felt faint. Sick.

-"Not to mention, I singled that one out for you and I caught you red handed like I knew I would. Fingers deep in the jam. You really think someone’s stupid enough to keep damning things where anyone can just waltz in and take them and waltz back out like it’s an episode of Looney Tunes?"-

He shakes his head, snapping his fingers jokingly, chuckling into his own chin, but you could tell the smile never reached his eyes; something sharp and dangerous behind them, sticking out like needles. He was angry. Validly, he had every right to be. Except, you never planned on getting caught or having to face his ire. You hoped you’d be far away by now. Far from him. He wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. His dojo office should’ve been closed. The whole gym compound should’ve been. Classes dismissed until two days from now. The whole weekend ahead. The very fact he was here was unpredictable. Unexpected. You could’ve swore you came to understand his schedules by now. His comings and his goings. You could’ve swore there wasn’t any mistake in your observations. You could’ve! -"Terry, I —"- You stutter, unsure how to finish your own sentence, standing there in limbo, trying to catch his bluff around the fact that you recovered evidence he planted for you to find, feeling your knees shake with indignity. If you had a secret you wanted to hide real badly, you supposed…well, you supposed you’d hide it as well as possible too. Never somewhere where someone else could see it. Take it. But, you were desperate. So desperate. For anything. Any clue. Any bit of anything. Any straw to grasp at. That you were willing to take anything at this point and run with it, even risk being seen by the cameras riddled all over the dojo, because, to hell with it — you didn’t plan on returning to this place, this city or this side of the country ever again. You needed anything, if it meant it could make the slightest bit of difference. You never did this before. That’s why Daniel Larusso picked you. The less you had to hide, the more innocent and seemingly inexperienced of any wrongdoing, bad intentions or foul play you were, the more convincing your act would be. But, it was an act. All an act. And at this point, Terry’s face to face with you, only the desk’s surface separating you like a wall, his finger eagerly tapping its polished finish like a tickling time bomb. -"Make an excuse. Go ahead. I really wanna hear it."- His shark-like teeth on display, you decide to tell the truth. At least a fragment of it, certain he already knew what he knew.

-"I was sent here."-

-"I know you were."-

Terry chides with an almost impossible ease that nonetheless sends shivers down your spine.

-"How does it feel that your supposed friends pushed you into the lion’s den alone with no backup, huh?"-

He shrugs, visibly taunting and the pit in your stomach only deepens, hollow, entirely empty.

-"Some friends."-

He adds, tilting his head to the side once he caught your eyes scrutinizing the nearby windows.

Assessing whether you should jump out through them or not.

Life wasn’t a movie. You knew you’d end up scared, broken bones, bruised and all.

And he knew that much too, something knowing twinkling deep inside of his eyes, almost daring you.

You feel the hand grasping at the folder growing limp, suddenly hopeless.

-"Larusso’s shacked up with his family and his guest from Okinawa is enjoying his Californian vacation while you’re here risking your life for them, without anything to gain from it and everything to lose."-

Terry purses his lips, self-content and positively dripping venom and you look away from him.

The embarrassment weighing down on you like an anvil.

Suddenly, you felt a burning, overwhelming sensation you didn’t feel a moment ago.

You felt dirty. Somehow used. Disposable. A useful fool.

-"Did they at least pay you?"-

-"It’s not about money."-

You rush back in with a hasty retort, stumbling over your own words, vigorously shaking your head.

You needed to maintain at least the illusion of dignity.

Integrity.

Fact was, you never paid a dime and you never wanted to be paid a dime.

Terry snorts crudely. Like he's just about heard the funniest joke in the World.

-"What is it about then?"-

His thighs move slowly, doing a smooth turn, finger still maintained firmly planted on the center of the desk, like the needle of a compass, the bejeweled ring on it in the limelight of your vision. What was it about? Did you have a clear cut answer? Except peer pressure? Feeling talked into it? Both directly and indirectly guilted into doing all of this? Thinking you were doing a good deed? That this was as easy as getting in and getting out?

-"Playing vigilante?"-

He drawls with a voice challengingly laced and no — that wasn’t it.

-"Truth, justice and the American way?"-

No.

-"The honor of rummaging inside of someone’s desk drawers?"-

No, no. You wanted to sob out. Inching further into the side of the wall.

Hoping to disappear.

Hoping he’d stop advancing forward and cornering you in.

Your body reacting violently, overtaking by a sudden shiver of sheer terror.

-"The possibility of Danny-boy and his pretty wife inviting you to a country club cookout and giving you a car discount one day if you ingratiate yourself to them hard enough?"-

His tone was oozing venom and sarcasm and you understood what he was trying to do; he was trying to humiliate your efforts and cheapen their worth, and worst of all, it was working like a charm, an unexpected flash of jealousy jabbing at your heart at the notion Terry would call any other woman pretty, no matter how pretty she actually was. Were you envious? This wasn’t the time to be envious. This was the time to be scared shitless. Your fingers stiffen and the folder you thought would make such a vast difference slips out of your hand and onto the floor beside your quivering feet, landing somewhere underneath the desk. At that point, you felt your vision blur and tears unwittingly flood your eyesight, flowing down the edge of your cheeks. The look Terry gives you seems oddly tender then, through the haze. Somehow fatherly. Like he was genuinely trying to understand how you scraped your knee due to your own negligence. You felt like a lost child. Vulnerable. Jittery. Wordlessly pleading forgiveness. -"What?"- He asks again, words barely above a whisper and you shrug through shivering sobs, ineptly, having no response for him as his eyes searched your face even as you tried to look at everything but directly at him regardless of the fact he was inches away, bending forward, towards you, to catch your gaze by force. Ultimately, his finger props itself underneath your chin, hoisting your stare towards him. -"Betraying someone who wined you, dined you, let you inside of his home, fucked you in his own bed — is that it?"- A seductive sheen flashes over his face and his wrinkles and you try to scoot away, as far as the wall and the desk allowed you to go from the way he beamed at you, the statement making you feel lower than ever before. This was a relationship and you trampled over it. You shattered his trust. That was the point right from the get go. Didn’t make it feel any less difficult, though. Suddenly, what the dread in your gut has been anticipating all along happens and he reaches forward, grabbing your hair, fingers tangling in the strands and dragging you forward towards him with all the violence contained in his eyes.

You yelp.

You knew everything so far was merely the calm before the storm and you were partially paralyzed, too afraid to move lest you trigger it into motion prematurely.

-"You broke the basic rules of hospitality! The two F’s! Fidelity towards your host’s privacy and enough formality not to crap all over their belongings!"-

Terry’s jaw tightens dangerously and he practically spits his words as you squint your eyes shut, desperately — as more of a feeble, last-resort self-defense mechanism rather than anything else — not daring to look at his expression up close in that moment, your own arm reaching forward and digging its nails into his skin by instinct, trying to alleviate whatever pressure he was placing there, hopefully avoiding your scalp getting ripped out of its roots, your lids only bolting open by accident, once you felt the rough, course texture of a wet, hot something dragged along the surface of your cheek followed by a gush of searing breath and the scent of saliva only to realize Terry was licking away your tears, angry chuckles lining the rhythm of what he was saying. -"What you get is the third, decisive F; the fatality of thinking I should be screwed around with."- He hisses and you spot the edge of uncharacteristic desperation in him, eyes appearing bloodshot, cold, wild, enraged and there and then — you’re dragged by the hair, stumbling behind him in wide strides on the corridor outside of his study, groaning at the sudden onslaught of pain. You knew then, the only reason he was telling you all of this was so you’d understand how profoundly you fucked up. So he’d relish your fear. Your pain. Your terror. Your stare bolts up. The cameras were off. The red blinking dot on the side of the device nowhere to be seen anymore. That could’ve easily meant that the exists have long since been shut off. The entrances. The gates. The whole dojo estate under lockdown. Security undoubtedly on the gates. There was no way in. No way out. You were effectively trapped, hauled forward towards your own doom, hyperventilating, digging in your feet against the sleek black tiles, hoping it’ll slow him down, only for Terry to yank your hair forward even harder, until you cried out and your voice echoed across the empty hallway, going entirely unheard. Deep down, you knew what he said was correct; you were risking your life out here while everyone else was safe and sound. The Larusso’s were probably having a meal by now, judging by the hour, Chozen Toguchi in tow, gathered together in the family dinning room over some homemade Lasagna. You could see them all so clearly it made you ache. How none of them were here now to save you, but even if they were, could they really?

Would they?

-"You know what happened to John Kreese!?"-

Terry simmers, looking ahead, sauntering down the foyer, pulling you along.

You knew, of course you knew. You didn’t walk into this situation entirely ignorant.

The fact that topic was brought up now only served to push the fear of God into your very bones.

-"And I knew that man for half a century!"-

Terry yells, so suddenly, it practically makes you jump even while restrained like this.

-"Loved that man for half a century!"-

He continues, wrathful, burning eyes fixated straight ahead in determination as he marched.

-"Owed my life to him for half a century! Longer than you've been alive!"-

There’s a growl of finality when he finally reaches a large, dark door, enraged as he pulled the metal knob, practically shoving you inside and all you’re met with is darkness. Somehow, momentarily, it’s more welcoming than the artificial sharp halogen lights of the dojo or his twisted sneer; it’s a short lived mercy as the neon pipes overhead flicker up and you hear the thud of a door closing somewhere in the pitch blackness, all sound losing its echo. Once the sound padded abyss clears, Terry stands in front of a sealed entrance of an otherwise empty chamber, sauntering forward like an Eldritch horror, all long limbs clad in black and an an icy sneer. His index finger pointing at you. Accusing vigorously. A single strand of hair falling loose from his ponytail, settling disheveled on his forehead. -"If I did what I did to him, what do you think I’ll do to some six month long two-bit trick!?"- He growls, appearing genuinely disgusted and you fold your hands over your chest. That hurt. That really hurt. So much so you could feel it vibrating inside of you, even though you felt you shouldn’t have been surprised. Those words. You did this because…well…because you were judged, in actuality. The pressure of you being with someone so much older. The criticism. The looks. The fact you knew you were talked about and that you couldn’t help but be bothered everyone viewed your association with Silver as a negative; something to be commented upon. Amanda Larusso asking what you had to gain out of the arrangement like you were someone who’s company was paid for. Like you were no better than a rich man's whore. The guilt you felt over it. The anger at yourself that you were viewed this way even though your connection wasn’t monetary. That you weren’t seen as an equal and probably never would be. You rushed to prove yourself. To prove your substance to people who had no right to demand you prove a thing, only to end up being encouraged to do something you shouldn’t have done and make an enemy out of someone you knew very well was powerful enough to destroy you. You sink to your knees in desperation. You had no way to take any of it back and fuck knows what he was going to do to you now because of it. You cry out, utterly crestfallen. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, self-sabotaging, overly complicated, insecure idiot. That’s what you were. -"Please! No!" - Was there ever going to be any mercy given, though? He had no mercy. Not towards enemies. He had no mercy towards friends either according to his own story. Not when he was crossed. And you did more than just cross him, you knew. You shat over months spent together so you could get the approval of individuals you were certain didn’t even like you all that much.

Least of all, Terry himself.

-"Now, here’s the agenda; you’re never leaving this place."-

He approaches, towering over you and you scoot back, hugging your knees to your chest defensively.

The one feeble wall between you and him.

His eyes pink and red. Why did it look like he was on the verge of tears himself?

You’re too stunned to speak.

Did...did this whole thing hurt him too? Emotionally, that is?

The heartbreak type of hurt?

You wanted to cry out for him. Instead of him.

-"Of course they’ll come looking for you, your supposed friends, but not because they give a crap about you. They’ll try to use your disappearance as a proof against me, but it’ll only end up biting them in the ass."-

He chuckles coldly, his jaw shaking as he spoke, looking down at you, practically shivering with wrath. He somehow seemed just as upset as you were, if not more, yet simultaneously sharp and unyielding enough to split atoms. -"If they say it’s suspicious that you entered my property and never left, I’ll simply ask how they know the whereabouts of my estate and social circle in the first place."- He makes yet another step towards you, until his legs loom above you, like an archway, causing you scoot even further into the vast emptiness of what seemed like the entrance of a pristine, minimalist cellar. Clean. Antiseptic. Windowless. No way out but in front of you, barred by his body, undoubtedly automatically locked. Terry Silver, always a proponent of the state of the art high tech. -"If they keep pushing it, they’ll just give themselves away and eventually open their mouths about the fact they’ve sent you here deliberately to endanger my privacy, that’ll only serve as proof of illegal entry and the conspiracy to spy."- He gives you a sudden grin, self-content, smug, but still reeling with rage. You were certain that however this situation was twisted and turned, he’d come out on top and that you screwed up, royally, ironically, risking the most and paying the steepest price for it. You were lucky if he didn’t kill you here and now, and God, all things considered, it would’ve been piety in the vastly creative line-up all the things you knew he was capable of and yet had no direct proof of. He cocks his head to the side, his mouth appearing fleshier than ever, hungry, oddly snake like, curved upwards. -"And you know what we used to do to spies during the war?"- He inquires, practically purring and you want to beg. You want to beg so badly. Just kill me, you desired to plead. Just kill me and collect your moral payback and revenge that way, but please, please, please, don’t martyr me.

-"They were making fun of me, Terry, please, understand."-

The truth suddenly slips out, unbidden, ugly, raw, uncomfortable and vulnerable.

And those words are gone, set loose, escaping across the threshold of your mouth before you can push them back inside and swallow them whole.

You liked Terry, but didn’t feel comfortable being viewed as merely someone’s arm candy. As someone’s attractive sidepiece. As someone sponsored by a man decades your senior. Correction being; it never crossed your mind to be genuinely bothered by anything until someone else pointed it out and the seed they planted germinated until you found yourself revolting, ready to do something truly suicidal purely so you’d be seen as more than what you were assigned from the point of view of others. It was revolting, really; agreeing to spy on the man you were seeing just on the off chance you’d be considered more than an expensive kept woman. A sugar baby. Now, here you were, thrown down on the basement floor, hugging your own torso for comfort and digging your teeth into your lower lip, looking up at him with the most apologetic look you could muster. Forgive me, it was meant to say. The stare you get back from him is harrowing. His fingers reach forward, grasping at both sides of your cheeks, pressing down on the tender flesh there, mushing your face beneath his thumbs until your lips pop, forcibly puckered. -"And you wimped out and collapsed under the slightest bit of peer pressure from people who aren’t even your peers."- He squeezes your face, gloating, hindering your ability to speak properly without muttering, humiliation burning through you like a searing haze. He was right. He was so right about everything, albeit, a little too content compared to his ire from a moment ago. Like he actually rather relished the development of this situation now that impressions finally settled in. You weren’t certain if you preferred him angry in this context, or seemingly happy. You weren’t certain what daunted you more, even more so when his index and middle finger pushed past your lips, grabbing the tip of your tongue, pulling at it with a pillar of saliva trickling down your chin as you groaned in pain, your neck moving forward, following the route he was dragging you towards. This was pure sadism for sadism’ sake. Nothing more. You eyes dart down, catching his other free hand tinkering with the buckle of his belt, the metallic clamor of the sound ringing out like the bells of doom.

Somewhere in the back of your head, fear and desire clash.

-"Well, down here, nobody’s gonna see. Nobody’s gonna know. Nobody makes the rules of convention but me. And I can have you all to myself."-

Terry’s brow shoots up, seeming self content. Triumphant.

His fingers digging into the tent in his trousers and his fist squeezing around the hard cock he pulled out his pants, facing you, thighs spread and zipper down. What was he going to do? Was he just going to keep you down here? For how long!? Was it so he could just abuse your flesh in retaliation for what he caught you doing? Make you disappear that way? Ensure you’re never seen, never heard from again? Panic settles in slowly, way too slowly, torturously so, washing over you like an arctic breeze from afar. Your first instinct was to call for help, but you knew then, help wouldn’t come. There was nobody to help you. He beams down on you, gleefully, almost like he could read the train of your thoughts once your fingers hooked themselves into the antiseptic, minimalistic black wall-to-wall carpet beneath you, hooking your nails into the threads, bracing yourself.

-"You were afraid of being seen as a mindless whore, but if the shoe fits —"-

He coos, cocking his head, bringing his tip to the precipice of your mouth.

Pushing.

Not asking whether you wanted to receive it.

-"Then it’s best to wear it."-

He adds, almost purring, eyes burning into you as your lips part, causing you to groan, embarrassed.

Saliva, right there, on your tongue, hot, anguished, ready to trickle down your chin.

He was going to fuck you, and fuck you and fuck you, but you knew, even know —

Beforehand, there would be degradation. There would be humiliation.

Discipline.

-"Only lubrication you’ll get, so make it count. There will be pain."-

He warns, once he catches your hesitation in making his cock wet, kneeling on the rug, paralyzed.

And yes, the pain. How could you forget the pain.

Perhaps, if you bit down on his dick now it would make him so infuriated he’d just finish you off on the spot.

You consider it.

You’re not sure what stops you. Perhaps it’s what he uttered then.

-"But, you’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?"-

He taunts, tilting his face to the side and the deep abiding shame burns its way into your skull, settling down there, like a plague. -"Yes."- You muster. You felt you deserved this. Deserved it for getting caught so stupidly. Deserved it for not being confident enough. Faltering under other's people judgement. For being bothered with they thought and said about you. For betraying someone in the hopes you'd impress someone else. For thinking that if you backstab Terry Silver, you'd be respected more by some vague margin, when truthfully, could a traitor ever really be respected even if it's an objectively bad person they're doing it to? Did you really think Amanda and Daniel would pat you on the back and be your friends and sleep soundly with you around and never think that if you could do this to the man you were dating, you'd never do it to them in some other shape, way or form? A tear slides down your cheeks. You did this all for nothing. Terry grabs your jaw to get your attention. -"I can’t hear you! Louder! With conviction!"- He seethes, holding his length in his hand, practically slapping you with it, the precum leaking from his tip leaving a wet patch on your cheeks intermingled with your tears. -"Yes, I am!"- You huff, squeezing your eyes shut. It was too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. -"You’re a what!? Extended sentences!"- He demands, the subjective impression given that his nails were digging holes into the sides of your face with the ferocity of his grip on you. You were certain the bruises would show, in so many patterns. You shriek. -"I’m a glutton for punishment!"- The words come out, peddled forward by pain. -"And are you anything more than my robot!? Mind, body and soul!?"- He asks, verbally tenderizing the most hidden, sensitive part of you. The part of you that led you to do all of this in the first place. The want to be independent. Strong. Someone with agency. More than just eye candy. Someone's lover. Someone's company. You cared for him, you did, but you needed to be a little more than that. If you wanted to stay sane, it was a requirement. -"It’s too much. That’s too much. Don’t."- You plead, desperately shaking your head as far as his fingers holding you allowed you and then he gives you that stare. That unblinking, cold stare. Devoid of all light. All warmth. All understanding. You falter, like you always did.

-"I’m no more than your robot."-

You capitulate, wantonly, willingly and it was disgusting.

Disgusting how liberatingly it instantly felt.

To acknowledge you were his.

His lover, his whore, his hole, his heart, his everything.

You weren't cut out to be a spy. One for subterfuge. Double crossing. Relaying secrets to a third party. You were cut out to be the warm, soft someone he returns to and that was it. A boudoir kitten. Soft satin beds. His embrace. Made for his lips and his lips alone. You gulp as the realization settles in as hard and as heavy as a rock, both punishing with shame and freeing you of all bonds. You were fighting against the certainty of the incoming tide when there was no point so fiercely combating your own nature. -"Mind, body and soul, Terry."- You asses, gulping hard, practically hiccupping with an onslaught of raggedy breathing. Whore, whore, whore, your subconsciousness struggles. You're a whore, it calls out. -"The correct title’s sir."- Terry reminds casually, letting your jaw go, causing you to goddamn nearly tumble back, sprawled across the carpet. Your hand instantly takes to massaging the sore his grip left behind. He advances, cock in hand. Fear and desire clash. -"Sir. Please."- You drawl once he's close enough to smell; all salt and heavy musk. -"Say 'Aah'"- He teases and you do something on instinct, because every atom of willpower in you spasms at once from conflicting sides, hot and cold meeting, bidding you to obey; you open your mouth and your tongue unfurls, receiving his cock, your gut saying yes and every bit of logic and sense still present in your brain telling you no, tears streaming and dripping down your face unbidden, almost like they were mourning you and the fact how much you ached right now. How dubious and messed up this all was, yet how much you were here, on the floor, kneeling and sucking dick like everything you so fiercely avoided being seen as. Terry didn't seem to mind your reaction one bit, though. In fact, he encouraged it. God, if Amanda could see you now. If Daniel could. If Chozen could. How disappointed they'd be? They'd all nod in unison and probably think to themselves they were fools to ever believe you could amount to anything more. But, did you want to, though? That was the question? Did you want to be anything more than Terry's? Did you really? -"Go ahead. Cry."- He coos, patting your head with a sense of encouragement that has you longing, his voice emanating a deep rumble once he's inside of you and you moan on instinct, letting him settle around your lips. Funny that. How you were fighting this so hard just a moment ago.

Well, at least one part of you still was, soldiering on.

Holding unto sanity by a thin, loose thread.

Eyes still hazy with crying.

-"It’s all junk anyway. Weakness purged. The type of bullshit that led you to crap over me the way you did! Playing at independence like a kid plays with a toy castle."-

His voice hits your ears like velvet.

With a filled, muffled mouth, you nod, opening your eyes.

Looking up at him.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sweetie.

His hand caresses your wet cheek as your head bobbed back and forth.

You groan into the gentleness of the contact.

-"We’ll have all the time in the world to train those tear ducts down here. Get rid of excess junk."-

Terry firmly believed weakness manifests itself through emotional reactions sometimes; crying, screaming, bleeding, sweating, pain, even cumming after sex. That this was the body's way of getting rid of things, by effectively self-cleaning --- a process that very well should've been embraced, if not encouraged. He told you this once and explained it elaborately over a candle-lit dinner and it remained embedded in your memory ever since --- and told you again now, smiling at you, like he was pleased by something unfathomable; you shiver, your imagination momentarily not being developed enough to even conceive of what'll happen to you down here. What are all the ways he'll seek to purge you, as he so delightfully put it. But, you supposed you were both far past being coy, and that you were in deep enough shit as it was, so when he pulls back, his length plopping out of your mouth with a moist popping sound, leaving a trickling droplet of spit to leak down your chin, almost like he predicting you'd ask, catching your breath, in a rare flash of bravado, you do just that.

-"What are you going to do to me!?"-

-"Turn you into meat."-

He explains with a blissed out chuckle. You freeze up in primordial dread.

Your cunt itching for him.

His hands lift you then, almost in a loving gesture. Loving. Yes, loving.

Causing you to slump against him once he grabs hold of your face.

Forcing you to look at him. Really look at him.

-"And then? I'm going to perfect you because you're mine to do with as I like."-

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ꒱ 손영재

summary : you broke with eric a long time ago, and you thought you were over him until you saw him with another girl

genre : angst, eric x afab!reader, non-idol!au, bestfreind!chanhee, for plot purposes everyone mentioned is around the same ages of 23-25 tws : language, mentions of sex, depressive episode author notes : no happy endings with me ♡ word count : 2.3k

“chanhee, i didn’t even want to come.”

“well, neither did i, y/n, but kevin said he’d send his attack-snake out on me. and i don’t want to find out what that even means.”

“huh,” you said, shoulders motioning with your voice, “kinky.”

"of course you'd think that," your best friend of a couple years (but felt like a million, in a good way) started, rolling his sharp eyes, "you haven't fucked in —"

"alright!" you stopped him, taking the creese of his elbow, "i get it, i'm lonely. damn, what about you though, king? when was your last relationship? because if i'm remembering correctly, it ended before eri —"

"y/n!" running up to the pair of you was the host, a bright and inviting smile plastering his face. although, you weren't sure why you kept walking around like a knife was lodged between your shoulder blades still. "i'm so glad you could make it!" because the moment you saw a familiar stranger, a brunette clinging to his strong arm with a green cocktail between her manicured fingers, your heart suddenly was on the floor.

you don't know why the scene of the liquid covering her perfectly blown-out hair flashed through your head. or why you could imagine the little christmas tree decoration in it scratching the top of her mouth until it stung when she would talk. you could hear her musically-tuned laugh ring through the air at a joke you couldn't imagine was that funny.

"what the hell am i, chopped liver?" chanhee joked, oblivious to what you spaced out on, "you only wanted me to come because you knew i'd bring along my emotional support fish."

it seemed you were always on a one-way street you just couldn't turn off of, because no matter how many potholes you hit, you keep driving; and if your tires popped, you weren't sure the car would stop.

you shouldn't be allowed to be appalled by the sight of your ex having moved on, simply because you broke it off when he wanted to make it work. you dropped his heart when he let you hold it. and when he should've played his cards close to his chest, he let you join his team just to fold. you were making the ship sink, so how could you have the audacity to be mad when he jumped from it while you went down?

he loved you, but at the time you weren't sure what you wanted. sure, you blamed it on being 19, but it was because you were scared to commit to someone so committed to you. you didn't want to be, selfishly, tied down to one person — and now that you've purged it from you system, you, selfishly, wanted the same commitment he had given you 5 years ago.

now you stood in the foyer, two different faces from those kids, attached to another man, thinking about if he looked over, would he get the wrong idea? would it make him as jealous as you felt?

you've loved, had loss and even forgot it. but faced with the void you could never fill was more debilitating than you cared to admit. you wanted to be two ‘i miss you's’ that just needed a push, but evidently only one of you felt that way, as the other was happily coupled up during cuffing season. but then again, you had no right after half a decade to think like that.

you just had to be brave and pretend like it doesn't bother you. you can do that. you can do a lot... right?

chanhee rammed into your side, his desperate attempt to get you back down on earth, instead of inside your never-not-on brain. "did you even hear what kevin just said?" he asked, and you looked to said man, "he said the bands getting back together." your bestfriend made a joke, which did cause you to loosen up and laugh. you thought that as long as he was there, you'd inevitably be okay.

"well not exactly, a couple people couldn't make it — which is fine, but most of our old friend group is here." kevin explained, lacing your free arm with his so you were sandwiched between the two of them. "it seems like you and chanhee were the only ones who really hung out like we all used to."

you reminisced the old times for a second. you remembered when your name was connected with eric's, when you hung out like old times with them and him. you remembered the stupid parties kevin's frat would throw freshman year, that eric would drag you to, just for you and him to have a great time. you remembered when you'd have quiet study sessions with jacob and younghoon in the school's library, or juhaknyeon and sunwoo's soccer games. it made you feel a little messy, because after you and him broke up, it's like you broke up with them all. you habitually stopped hanging out, only being dragged by chanhee who was attached to you since first introduction.

you actually owe your level-headedness all to him. he's the person who convinced you that you didn't need to have a run-of-the-mill to finally find something good. he's also unfortunately the reason you remember eric like it was yesterday, even if you don't front like it. you knew you had someone so devoted to you, yet you let him go and now you had the audacity to feel bad about it.

"well, is sunwoo coming?" you asked, which earned a nod from kevin, "and what about younghoon and juyeon?"

"juyeon got a girlfriend!" chanhee exclaimed excitedly, his voice lowering when sangyeon's attention was caught on the three of you, "like last month."

the oldest of your friend's face lit up, "y/n!" he said, making you force a smile though you were cringing; because just a couple feet away was the love of your adolescence, with the presumable love of his.

standing next to him was hyunjae, "how've you been, oh my gosh, it's been like years hasn't it?" you voiced, bringing him in for a hug, which he reciprocated before you moved to sangyeon to repeat the process. it had been years since you've last spoken to them other than a happy birthday or congratulations once in a blue moon — you honestly wouldn't be surprised if their numbers had changed and you'd been texting a random person.

"good, good," hyunjae replied, sipping a bright red cocktail, "i actually just finished my business degree, thinking of either opening my own or investing in some else's."

"and I just got engaged, though she wasn't able to make it here tonight — ceo stuff — she's getting ready to go international after fully getting elected as the heir."

you couldn't help but compare, sure you had your teaching license, but it wasn't as impressive as either one of them.

they were making it hard to believe that the world was spinning too fast, and that you weren't stuck watching the same film over and over again.

chanhee began talking in your place, forcing you down into the barstool between them all. kevin went over to younghoon and juyeon who had just made their way through the door: a synthetic blonde attached juyeon's arm.

"what's her name?" you blurted, the three boys looking down at you, "she's pretty."

hyunjae was nonchalant, pretending he didn't know exactly what you actually meant. however, sangyeon replied awkwardly, "w-who? kim minyeon? or jang nari?"

"juyeon's girlfriend, n-not eric's."

"o-oh! that's minyeon."

nari. the feminine name meaning lily; new beginnings and rebirth. just fucking perfect, wasn't it? pretty, perfect and delicate, just like the flower.

you sighed and excused yourself, disguising it as having to use the bathroom. in honesty, you weren't sure how much more torcher you could take, and it's barely been twenty minutes. you thought you'd be fine, as long as chanhee stayed by your side, but the longer you watched the pair through your peripherals, the more you just ached.

you cared more than you'd like to have admitted. and the worst part is you had no one to blame — to be mad at — because everyone had rightfully assumed you both were over it.

like you were supposed to be.

it was pathetic, the way you stared yourself down in the mirror. you found yourself resembling someone you've never met, or maybe someone you had just forgotten in all the growing pains. nevertheless, you found yourself disgusted by the fact that you were disgracing your mother's eyes, father's nose, and sister's cheekbones with the self-pity. there was nothing more selfish than crashing someone else's party with one of your own.

so you choked the tears back, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. you took a powder from the purse slung over your shoulder and fixed your creasing makeup. you reapplied a red lipstick, fixing your hair and outfit. you thought that if you couldn't have him, maybe you could make it wish he had you instead — god, you were letting the delusions look too good under the fluorescent light.

however, you stooped lower than throwing a pity party. you exited the bathroom with part of your dignity still intact, but the moment you sat against the plush-cushioned bench against the wall your phone was illuminated with pictures of the pretty brunette.

you couldn't get yourself to stop once you typed her name out. it's like you were boarding the gossip train all the way back in high school.

you scrolled like you were obsessed, brain blanking out everything around you. you saw her go through a cherry red hair phase sometime in 2022. you found out that her and eric had taken a vacation to hawaii back in 2021, multiple bikini pictures and perfectly sculpted bodies clinging together like models being the tell. you scrolled farther back, dead-set on finding the first picture she ever posted of him… that must've been close to when they met.

why do you even care? you know he was too caught up following you around like a puppy to even believe that he would entertain someone other than you. so, why were you obsessed? maybe you needed a reason to be mad at him. maybe you needed an excuse to shift the blame.

maybe it's everything you needed that he could live without —

"i didn't meet her that far back, y/n. we were still dating then."

your eyes shut, finger hitting the power button. you took a moment, hoping that it was just your cruel subconscious playing tricks with reality. "didn't think you'd cared that much," he took a seat on the complete opposite end of the bench, "it's been five years... and honestly i didn't think you cared back then either."

you were too embarrassed to say anything. and frankly, you didn't know what to reply with. i'm sorry? i did care about you, but just not enough? nothing seemed to suffice.

"i met nari at work. she treats me —"

your vision was blurring over, but you couldn't find the courage to get up and walk away. you were just so damn pathetic, weren't you? you just thought that everything in this world belonged to you, peaking your freshman year of college in comparison to the people who still innocently call you a friend.

"better?"

"different, y/n. she's different than you."

you sighed, "that doesn't make it bet — i mean, it doesn't matter, eric. i'm sorry, i was just curious after not seeing you for so long." your eyes opened, but the scene was blurred over, almost like it was torrentially pouring while driving late at night. there were questions flashing behind your eyelids every time you tried to blink the tears away. you thought that you couldn't stoop lower, but for the past couple minutes you've done nothing but prove it wrong. "i'm so-sorry, i'm just gonna go."

you got to your feet, but his voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

"w-why does it bother you so much?"

you honestly felt like your heart was re-shattering, joining the dust on the floor at your feet. you thought the question would join the heaps of pathetic things you've said and done tonight.

you turned around, phone clenched between your fist. eric was still sat, dark hair styled so nicely you almost thought that it wasn't him — but her — outfit a matching shade to the dress you saw hugging her figure gracefully.

"do you honestly think i didn't care about you?" you asked, to which he raised his head at an alarming pace, "it's true, i know i fucked it up, eric, okay? i know what i did to you and i'm sorry. i-i'm sorry i waited so long to tell you that." clearing the air didn't feel like closure at all. the tears in his eyes didn't feel like hatred at all. and maybe he didn't mean it. maybe he only told himself that because you did break his heart so bad, still holding pieces he's afraid he'll never get back. "you can think whatever you want, hate me even, but please don't think for a second i didn't love you back then. i was naive and made a mistake, but it's too late to take it back. believe me, i've thought about it. but i always fucking cared about you, okay?"

you found it oddly satisfying, though knowing in the back of your head that he would curse you for saying these things while he's happily coupled up, you didn't regret it.

"i'll forever be sorry, so don't hold it over my head."

"i believed you didn't care about me... back when we were nineteen." he replied after a long pause, "but i haven't believe that for a long time. y/n, i've forgiven you."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Okay, but could you imagine.

Season 5 finale, Bug noire beating the bricks off Monarch. But in the middle of the fight, Adrien shows up. Riding on a Sentimonster Cat named Rebel.

He confronts Monarch and tells him he knows and that he needs to stop this. But Monarch pulls a dirty move and Commands Adrien to stay, before sending an akuma his way. Forced to accept it, he becomes Prince Akuma, with all the powers of Previous akuma, though unfortunately he isnt wearing the ring so he cant gift additional powers, but he doesnt care. Monarch uses this as his chance to recover.

Bug Noire is fighting for her life trying to plead with him.

Monarch catching his breath and telling Ladybug that his family will finally be reunited.

BUT THEN! Marinette gets a flash of a nightmare and stops. Saying she gives up. She detransforms because she cant bring herself to hurt adrien.

Monarch yells out that he won and commands Adrien to take the miraculous to him.

But he wont budge.

Monarch orders him with his ring, but... its not working.

Adrien is resisting! And with all his strength he breaks akumatization.

Falling to his knees. He says.

"Im sorry I hurt you Marinette... my lady."

Monarch is shocked as everyone in the room finds out hes Chat noir!

Monarch yells at him and charges at Marinette. Adrien is tossed aside. Being called an ignorant child.

Marinette realized chat noir's ring was missing. But transformed into Ladybug anyway.

Monarch wondered where the cat ring was, and adrien says his phrase.

A rock version of the theme song starts playing and they fight as one, beating the bricks off of monarch, until they knock his miraculous off.

Gabriel yells that he is destroying his family. Gabriel revealing that his birth is the reason his mother is dead, and his actions are what are killing him now.

"You are nothing but a monster."

Adrien is frozen in sorrow. Was his father right? Was he a monster?

Thankfully Ladybug called out all that bulls*** and revealed that it was all his fault. And that HE could have fixed things multiple times but his greed blinded him.

"Dont blame him for destroying something when it was all you."

Marinette reveals the clips and Gabriel realizes the monster he truly is all before turning to dust

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Spring Fishfly - Chauliodes rastricornis

The lakes and forests of cottage country always have so many surprises when it comes to insects. I thought the Hudsonian Whiteface Dragonfly was going to be the highlight, but then I saw this large-winged individual trying to phase his way through a screen door to get inside. When I first saw the wingspan and flight pattern, I expected to see a giant Moth, so imagine my surprise to see an elusive Fishfly! He sure does fly like a Moth, and even rests like one with the wings folded backward and was drawn by the porchlights. He was definitely the highlight of the evening and greatly dwarfed all other nearby insects! While an insect like this appears intimidating, rest assured that he is perfectly harmless and can be handled with care. According to Bugguide and other identification sources, this specimen is more likely to be a Spring Fishfly rather than a Summer Fishfly (C. pectinicornis), but not just because he was found flying in May instead of July. Given habitat ranges and differing timeframes of adult emergence from the water, seasonality cannot be the sole factor for identification. Apparently, the best way to distinguish between the 2 species are to examine the two parallel markings on the back of the insect's head, just behind their ocelli.

As can be seen from Pictures 5 and 7, our Spring Fishfly friend has dark-colored head markings contrasting with its lighter shell. The Summer Fishfly's head markings and body are the reverse of that (bright markings, darker shell). This identification however, doesn't take into account other species of Fishfly that may call lakes home, so examine your Megalopteran carefully. As if net-veined wings and yellow highlights along the head's mouthparts, thorax and wing-bases weren't enough of an allure for the camera, there are the elongated and feathered antennae to admire. There's no doubt that these antennae used to locate the enticing pheromones of females (also similar to the function of feathered Moth antennae). The feathering designated this individual as a male; a female Fishfly would have had serrated antennae with saw-like grooves. At a passing glance, with their slight curvature they resemble grand mandibles! However, that style of antenna (pectinate) my only occur for this genus; other genera may have other types. For example, Neohermes Fishflies have antennae that resemble balls on a string (moniliform). Mileage may vary, but if you're looking to try and find some Fishflies, approach the water in spring (or summer) and see what insects come to the light. Have some bug repellent or patches handy to keep the Mosquitoes away, as adult Caddisflies aren't going to eat them.

Pictures were taken on May 27, 2024 in Muskoka with a Google Pixel 4. The instances of white ocelli seen in the images here are due to the camera's flash.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Good morning (or other appropriate time-related greeting) Tulip!

I was rereading Fish (because Emmy is fantastic) and I had a question-- in your fic The Butterfly People Effect, would Emmy's story be different?

At first I was just going to ask you, but then I started gathering evidence as a bit, but then it spiraled a little and now I have a Theory.

My gathered evidence is as such: I believe it was Roman who was approached by the pixies who took her in the main storyline, but I can't remember where in the story that was. If I remember correctly, the pixies asked Roman about her and if she was happy, and he said yes, but left out that she was happy because she was away from them. This means they were still around, and is also confirmed in Fish, when Emmy a. can see flashes "of small yellow wings" and b. tells Virgil that she wants the pixies to leave her alone. In TBPE, Logan is able to be less at-odds with his status as a fae and is more confident because of it. While he doesn't interact with the pixies who took her, he does have a lot more interactions with other fae, and I don't think it's outlandish to assume he might know who they are and what they did. Finally, in Fish there's a bit about Emmy not being allowed to talk about fae things, including Logan, but that she had watched him when she could, but could never "work up the nerve" to talk to him, implying that she really wanted to.

My conclusion based on this evidence: I think, in TBPE, Logan might have reached out to Emmy first (maybe as a 'Offering an apology from my season to you, because that was Not Okay'?), and because Logan is Logan and Emmy is Emmy, eventually gained a little sister out of it.

My math: Emmy was 10 when she was taken, and she was gone for 7 years, and 16 when Fish takes place and based on the other fics in Epilogues & Emmy saying they live in a town she couldn't have imagined three years ago, I think Fish is about 3-5 years after the main storyline. This would put Emmy at about 11-13 when Shit Hit The Fan, and makes she between 3-6 years younger than Logan, which is prime little sister age.

From this, I raise: Logan getting a little sister means Thomas also gets a little sister, and I also think Greta and Emmy interacting when they are hanging on to her while trying to finish the cloak would be fantastic. Thomas is the only sibling of LAMP in LAOFT present at the time of them getting together, which is very unfair to him. In TBPE at least he's gotten to know Greta a little and therefore has backup from her, but adding Emmy to the mix would be a. good for Thomas and b. excellent for the audience to witness.

Anyway, hope my rambling was entertaining for you. Emmy will now forever live in my heart as Thomas's partner-in-crime in TBPE's storyline. (*Cough* Any Emmy Trout crumb you will drop to us is fantastic *cough* she's such a cool character idea *cough*)

(Also, unrelated, but started TBPE with "Let's tell a story. No, not that one." lives in my head RENT FREE and I love it so much.)

this is so cute believe it or not ive never thought of Emmy's place in TBPE and this is so so good, love the concept

[daydreamgoddess14]

Carmy Berzatto / Sydney Adamu Masterlist

Just me stepping out of my Ted Lasso comfort blanket and into another 'platonic besties' ship where I'm obviously imagining things and these people clearly don't have a connection... my ass they don't!

FULL MASTERLIST

Tumblr & AO3 links included throughout.

* = Complete

🔥 = Smutty

A flash of joy *

One-shot, general rating. Short and sweet one-shot. The crew at The Beef take a little break while on prep. Set mid/late Season One.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49623865

Iron *

One-shot, general rating. Short and sweet. Syd isn't feeling great & Carmy notices.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49637020

Aspirations *🔥

Syd is 12 months deep in a crush she wasn't expecting, Carmy is 6 months into a relationship he doesn't want, The Bear is 4 months open and Nat is 2 months into motherhood....

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49699597/chapters/125446204

Heatwave *🔥

Syd, Carmy and a heatwave which threatens to tip things over the edge...

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50001439

Everything More Than Anything 🔥

Syd works out what she needs to do to get those stars she's dreaming of. Carmy works out what he needs to do to support her.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 - coming soon!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50410579/chapters/127366186

[staydandy]

D.P. (2021) - 디피 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : A young private's assignment to capture army deserters reveals the painful reality endured by enlistees during their compulsory calls of duty. (MDL) AKA : D.P. Season 1 | Deserter Pursuit Dog Day | Day of the Dog

Whumpee : Ahn Joon Ho played by Jung Hae In (right) • Han Ho Yul played by Koo Kyo Hwan (left)

Country : 🇰🇷 South Korea Genres : Action, Military, Drama, Bromance

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Adapted from the webtoon "D.P Dog Day" (D.P 개의 날) by Kim Bo Tong (김보통) • TW : Suicide

Episodes on List : 5 Total Episodes : 6

*Spoilers below*

01 : [flash forward] Shoe thrown at Ahn Joon Ho's head, pushed towards a wall with a nail sticking out (result not shown) … [present] montage of various army training; standing on head, crawling through mud, stranding in a room with mustard gas (I'm guessing at the gas here) … [from flash forward] shoe thrown at his head, thrown to the ground, slapped … nightmare … drunk, throwing up … (tw:suicide) … imagines he's beating himself up while beating up someone else, knuckles bleeding

02 : (@ 0:45 : nows there's an introduction, Ho Yul 👀 lol) Detained … (tw:suicidal) (at end) hallucinating

03 : Han Ho Yul goes through a series of comedic pitfalls chasing someone; stepped on, tripped up, tangled in a blanket & punched, twists his back, Joon Ho in a fight, falls off a building, knocked out … fight; crate broken over his head, leg cut

05 : Fight; head smashed through a window … fight; tasered, knocked out

06 : Car crash, knocked out.. wakes in hospital … fight; pushed into a pile of heavy pipes, hurts leg … (tw:suicide)