#a chance encounter fanfic

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters | pt. 1

character(s): Benny Miller, fem!Reader, (very) brief cameos from the rest of the Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: You've lost your way after losing your best friend in a tragic car accident. So, you go back to the one sport that makes you feel closer to him. word count: 1.9k a/n: This story is very personal to me and pulled from some real-life experiences (maybe not exactly, but still). I know I said I wouldn't write anything within this time period with April being such a very emotional month for me, but I've found that this story is actually helping me through my grief. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading 🫶 warnings: very brief mentions of grief (which will be a reoccurring warning) series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“Benny Miller. I’m the owner and potentially, your coach,” the man says with a charming smile. He’s tall, broad, built, and you can’t help but notice his deep blue eyes. There’s a sense of comfort that you feel when you look at him. He’s dressed in red shorts and a white t-shirt with a dark cap placed backwards on his head and you can see the dark blonde curls peeking out from underneath it. “Welcome to Miller MMA Gym.” 

“Hi,” you finally respond, saying your name to introduce yourself. Your hand grips the strap of your duffle bag that was placed over your shoulder. You feel slightly out of your element even though this is your comfort zone. Fighting is your comfort zone. 

“Nice to meet you. Let me give you a tour of the gym and then we can sit down and go over your goals and everything else. Sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you repeat. “Thanks.” 

Benny spends the next twenty minutes giving you a tour of his gym and you can tell just from the sound of his voice that he loves this sport and he has put a lot of thought into creating a gym where he can share with other like minded people. There are black mats in the entirety of the building with thick, red outlines at the edges. There are about seven heavy bags lined up along the wall with an octagon cage towards the back of the building. The gym is small, cozy, and it makes you feel like it’s a place where you belong. 

“This is a really nice gym you got, Benny.” 

“I know it’s not as big as other MMA gyms. We don’t have all the fancy equipment, the extra free weights, but I like that it’s small. Plus, I don’t just let anyone train here.”

“Oh?” you ask, brow arching. “So, I’m guessing this is a bit like a consultation?”

Benny nods. “I want to make sure we’re a good fit. This sport…” he sighs. “I want people who are dedicated, who will push themselves to the limit, you know? I don’t want to waste your time and I certainly don’t want you to waste mine.” 

“Makes sense,” you agree.

He removes his sandals and steps onto the mat. You follow him and set your duffle bag down, your feet touching the cushioned mats and your gently bounce on your toes before you sit down in front of him.

“How long have you trained for?” 

“Never actually had a coach or joined a gym like this, if I’m being honest. My best friend,” you sigh shakily. “He used to fight, was an amateur though. He taught me everything I know and always encouraged me to pick up the sport too.”

“So, what changed?”

“He died.” 

Benny offers you a solemn look. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. He knows grief all too well and he had known the minute you stepped into his gym that there was something lingering within you, something that you wanted to keep hidden. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You had grown tired of hearing that. Why would they be sorry? What could they even do about it? It simply frustrated you. “Anyway, fighting’s always been something I felt comfortable doing and I don’t want to join an MMA gym where it’s all ego and trying to one-up one another.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Benny adds. “I’ve been to gyms like that and I fuckin’ hate it. I mean, we’re all there because we love the same sport. It can get competitive and sparring can get really bad… Which is why I like doing these consultations before even making a commitment with someone. I don’t want my gym to be like those.” 

You nod, the corner of your lips lifting only slightly, but as quickly as it rose, it drops. You always had to catch yourself whenever you felt an ounce of happiness or relief. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel right to be happy when your best friend was gone. 

“Well, I want to fight, Benny. Competitively. I don’t know if I can even make it, but I want to try. Fighting is where I feel most at home.” 

Benny smiles. You see his blue eyes light up. Then, he reaches his hand back out to you. “Well then, welcome aboard. I’d love to have you, and I’d love to train you and be your coach.” 

The happiness flutters in your stomach and you force yourself to ignore it. You don’t smile at him, but your eyes - your eyes have always been so expressive. Your eyes soften when you look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and you reach out to shake his hand. “I’d love that, Coach.” 

“Welcome to the team,” he grins. “Let’s see what you got.”

—

An hour and a half later and you’re dripping with sweat. You’re leaning back against one corner of the octagon, knees close to your chest as you rest your arms over them, trying to catch your breath. Benny didn’t waste any time assessing your abilities, but you welcomed the distraction and for the last hour and a half, you hadn’t thought about your best friend. 

“We got one more round,” Benny calls out. “Get back up, let’s go.” 

You let out a deep breath and nod, standing. You shake your arms to loosen them, feeling the fatigue slowly begin to settle in. You glance at the time and see it begin to count down. Once the round begins, the sound of a buzzer filters the small gym and immediately, you bring your hands to cover your face, standing in an orthodox fighter’s stance. 

Benny holds out the pads and calls out the following combinations:

Left jab, cross, left hook! 

Double jab, cross!

Right front kick, double left round kick!

Throughout the round, you’re moving in the cage, staying light on your feet and never crossing them. You don’t even notice the way Benny’s smiling down at you, so proudly and full of hope. 

“Alright, thirty seconds left!” Benny calls out. He notices how locked in you are, how focused, and he hasn’t seen someone as motivated in a first session as you. It gives him hope that you’re actually serious about competing. 

Left jab, right body kick! 

1-2 punch, left hook, right body kick! 

Again! 

By the time the round ends and the buzzer fills your ears, you’re breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your temples and the sides of your neck. 

“Holy shit,” Benny chuckles. “You’re amazing.”

“My stamina is shit,” you say breathlessly. 

“We’ll work on that,” he smiles. “Great job today.” 

You remove your gloves and sit back down, leaning against the same corner of the octagon as you begin to unwrap your hands. You see the initials on your wraps and you’re brought back to reality. You bring your hands to stroke your dampened hair back and away from your face, redoing the hair tie to pull your hair into a tighter ponytail. 

“That was– It felt like home,” you admit, looking up at him.

Benny chuckles and extends a hand for you. You take it and stand up, following him out of the octagon. “I’m excited about you, about this partnership. I think you’re gonna be great.”

You look at the time and realize that it’s already way past the normal business hours and quickly, you grab your duffle bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you needed to be. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Benny says softly then adds, “I just realized we didn’t get to the paperwork side of things.” 

“I can come in tomorrow,” you say, draping the strap of the duffle bag over your shoulder. “And however much it is, I’ll pay it up front.”

Benny’s eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa, wait–”

“I’m serious about this, Benny. There’s nothing I want more than to fight and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that.” 

“Okay, tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You shake his hand once more and he leads the both of you out of his gym. You look up at the sound of another man’s voice and see three other men - all of different statures - greet Benny with a smile. You don’t spend another second sparing each of them a glance, just now wanting to get home. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Benny calls out. “And I think I’ve got a great nickname for you.”

You toss your duffle back into the trunk of your car and shut it closed. You look over at Benny and notice all four men staring at you, but Benny’s the only one grinning. The other three, you notice, are staring at you with a look of hesitancy and curiosity. You take note that Benny’s the taller out of the four, but there’s another one that’s only a few inches shorter. He’s just as broad and built, the same blue eyes, but hair much shorter and slightly lighter. Then, your eyes veer off to the other two, your eyes lingering on one man in particular with a Standard Heating Oil cap placed atop of his curls. The other man standing next to him is the shortest, but he has just as big of a presence as Benny. His hair is greyer, but you have to wonder if it’s due to stress or if he’s much older than the rest of the group. 

“A nickname is too soon, don’t you think? You don’t really know me yet, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”

“Okay, so what’s the nickname?” 

“The Warrior,” he grins. 

You chuckle. You actually let out a laugh and for months, you had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh. It’s ironic really, almost like your best friend was taunting you from even beyond the grave. He had always called you his little warrior after everything you had been through and how you had never given up, always willing to fight your way through difficult hardships. But now… Now you can’t even imagine fighting your way out of this grief that has taken over your life. 

Benny then looks over at his friends, not realizing that he had forgotten to introduce them to you. “We can talk it over. I’m open to other nicknames, but it just seems right for you.” 

“We’ll see, Benny.” 

“By the way, these are my–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” You interrupt him, not bothering to spare another glance at the other three men. You climb into your car and start it immediately, pulling out of the parking lot without another look at Benny or his friends. 

Benny turns to his friends and shrugs. “She’s got potential,” he begins. “I think she can make it big.”

“You say that about almost everyone, Ben,” Santiago chuckles. “Is she usually that… standoffish?”

“She just lost her best friend,” Benny sighs. 

“Damn,” Frankie mumbles. 

“And you think that it’s a good idea that she fights?” Will asks. “Emotions and all of that–”

“I think she needs this,” Benny admits. “And we all know how it is to lose someone close to us.”

“Does she–” Frankie sighs. “Does she have anyone else to rely on?” 

Again, Benny shrugs. “I just met her a few hours ago, but something tells me that she might be alone.”

“Fuck,” Santiago adds. “Well, is she any good?”

Benny nods. “Like I said, I think she can make it big.” 

“Well, whatever you need, we’ll be here,” Will says, clasping a hand over his younger brother’s shoulder. “Now, should we all get out of here and go get some drinks?” 

Santiago grins. “Yeah, let’s.” He nods in Frankie’s direction and adds, “Vamanos.”

[television-overload]

chance encounter

an X-Files Fanfic

Read on AO3

Summary: "Six months after becoming fugitives from the US government, Mulder and Scully have a chance encounter with someone that is very important to them."

Word Count: 6,556

Tag List (let me know if you want taken off or added!): @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @mulderscully @perpetually-weirdening @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson

It was him.

There was no way to explain how he knew, but he did.

The little baby sitting in the puddle deep water at the end of the pool was William.

His hands, still chubby like they had been in his infancy, splashed excitedly, and Mulder could hear his squeals of delight over the sounds of the other children playing. An electric yellow swim shirt paired with a dinosaur-patterned bucket hat kept him shielded from the hot California sun, and he wore striped yellow and blue swimming trunks.

Mulder thought he'd never seen a swimsuit so small.

What were the odds that of all the places they could have traveled to, he was here?

They'd been on the road for 6 months, stopping at unremarkable motels and campgrounds all the way, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. It was a fluke they were even here at all.

Perhaps fate.

The hotel was certainly a step up from their usual accommodations, but Mulder had insisted. It was their anniversary, he said. Anniversary of what, Scully wasn't sure. The progression from coworkers to friends to lovers happened so gradually that it was hard to pin down a particularly important date for anything. But he wanted to celebrate, to find a brief reprieve from living in darkness, so they splurged a little on this modest, if slightly run-down, hotel by the ocean.

Where their son and his new family just happened to be vacationing.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this possibility. In those nights where Scully was extra quiet, eager to fall asleep at the end of a long day, of course he'd lay awake and think, what if.

What if we found him? What if we saw our son again? What would we do?

The idea was so far-fetched that he hardly gave it any real consideration. His thoughts ranged from “steal him back, take him with us” to “pretend you never saw him and flee town.”

The urge to do the latter was strong. It was not safe here. They'd given him up for this very reason, what would be the point if their being here got him injured or worse? Was it really worth the risk to William? To Scully?

His next thought was 'Should I tell her?' Should he tell Scully he'd seen him? Would she want to see him too, even if from a distance?

The loss of their son had broken her heart. Broken his too, but not in the same way. She had spent months with him, almost a year, only to be forced to give him away with little time to prepare.

He knew she felt the loss like a phantom limb. Even all these months later, she still awoke with his name on her lips, panic written on her face as she looked around for him. It drove a stake through his heart every time, yet part of him felt he deserved it after leaving her to deal with it herself.

He watched the boy.

He'd only come out here to enjoy the sun, sit on one of the loungers for an hour or so while Scully took a nap in their room. It was a much more comfortable bed than they've had in a long time, though that wasn't saying much.

He hadn't bargained on having his whole world tipped upside down in the short time they were apart.

As stressful as it was, life on the road lended itself to relatively simple decisions. Fast food or canned? Motel or campground? Will you drive, or should I?

This was different.

Should he tell Scully?

The thought of keeping this from her made him feel sick. He couldn't do that.

Then again, would it hurt more to know? Ignorance is bliss, they say.

Mulder had never believed that, though.

The Truth, with a capital T, was the one thing that connected him and Scully. Though their beliefs and methods differed, they valued the Truth above all else. That was what drew them together. That was what propelled them forward, even now.

She had to know. She had to know her son was here, even if knowing might hurt.

She could make the decision for herself, whether she wanted to see him or get as far away from here as possible. It might be the last decision she makes as a mother, who would he be to keep that from her?

She might never forgive him.

Swallowing back emotion, Mulder stood to his feet, trying not to draw attention to himself as he made his retreat. His sunglasses thankfully hid the redness of his eyes, a small mercy in this endlessly unfair life.

He stole one last glance back at William. There was a chance this was the last time he'd ever see his son, his baby boy. If this was it, he'd treasure this moment for the rest of his life.

A woman dropped down beside William, showing him how to cup the water in his hands and throw it.

'A quick learner,' Mulder thought, watching as he gleefully tossed small handfuls of water in the air, giggling as it rained back down on him.

Okay. He could do this.

Find Scully. Tell Scully. Find Scully.

He rushed into the moldy-smelling hallway of the hotel, not bothering to take the elevator up to their floor. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, finding himself out of breath by the time he reached the 4th floor.

He nodded politely at a passing family decked out in beach gear, not wanting to draw suspicion. Once they were gone, he gave a quick rhythmic knock on the door to let Scully know it was him, then slipped his key card into the slot to unlock it.

The room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight to block out the midday sun, and he could hear soft breaths coming from the lump on the bed.

His heart twisted involuntarily as it so often did when he looked at her.

“Scully,” he whispered, approaching the bed. “Honey, wake up.” He settled on the side of the bed, placing a gentle hand atop her shoulder and jostling her just so.

“Mm,” she hummed, curling into her pillow. A good nap, then. That was nice, at least.

He shook her again, saying her name a little louder. “Scully, you need to get up.”

This time her eyes opened, sensing the serious undertone to his words. He could tell she was waiting for bad news, for him to tell her they needed to leave again. Wanting to put her worries at ease, he tried to smile.

“What is it?” she asked, blinking at him in confusion.

“Uh—” he hadn't gotten this far in planning what to say. But she was waiting for him now, so he needed to say something quick. “Scully, I saw some people outside...”

“Government people?” she asked, sitting up suddenly, ready to start packing.

“No, not the government,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders soothingly. “Scully—it's William.”

He could see the moment his words hit her. She blinked, like she might think she was still dreaming, but she saw the truth in his eyes. Her expression shifted.

He wasn't sure what reaction he expected, but his first guess wouldn't have been anger.

“Did you know he would be here?” she asked, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. “Mulder, I told you not to look into it! Why—Why would you...”

“I didn't know,” he promised, begging the tears in his eyes to keep from falling. He clasped her hands in his, pulling them from their grip on the fabric of his shirt. “Scully, I swear I didn't know. I was just out at the pool, and—”

“You're sure it's him?”

His heart broke looking at her. Equal parts hope and dread, she didn't deserve this.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”

She let out a shuddering breath.

“What do you think about that coincidence, huh?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

She shook her head.

“Mulder, we can't see him. It's not safe, it's not—”

“I know.” He didn't like interrupting her, but he didn't want her worrying unnecessarily about things she shouldn't. They had enough of that already, these days. If she didn’t think it was a good idea, he’d be okay with that. “We can leave, if you want. I just thought you should know.”

Her blue eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears.

“Is—Is he…?”

“He's beautiful, Scully,” Mulder answered her unspoken question. “He looks happy.”

She choked out a sob, and he immediately enveloped her in his arms, holding onto her tightly. She clutched at him like a life raft, and he ran his hand over her back in comforting circles, murmuring soft words into her ear.

“What do you want to do?” Mulder asked, knowing that time was ticking, and the little family might not stay out there much longer.

Scully sniffed.

“We could—we could go see him,” she said uncertainly, looking at him to decipher his thoughts on the matter. “From a distance.”

Mulder nodded, then stood, helping her to her feet.

“I'm with you,” he reminded her, grasping her hands tightly in his. “It'll be okay.”

With an arm slung around her shoulders, he led her out the door, this time opting to take the elevator down to the ground floor. Scully seemed nervous, almost frightened, and he didn't blame her. He tried to picture how he would feel if their positions were switched, and he couldn't imagine that he'd take it very well. Eventually, they reached the glass doors leading out to the outdoor pool, pausing for a moment.

“They can't see us,” Scully warned, looking anxious and ready to bolt, but she was glued to his side and scarcely able to move without his guidance. He nodded and took her hand, leading her out to a couple chairs in the corner, hopefully obscured enough by the shadow of the fence that they wouldn’t be seen. That bright neon shirt was still there, easy to spot, and Mulder felt tears rising to his throat again. This was the first time they had all three been in the same vicinity since those first few days when he was born.

He squeezed her hand, checking one last time to make sure she was okay. She searched his eyes, trusting him wholeheartedly, and he was certain he had never loved her more.

“Over there,” he said in a low whisper. “With the little hat on.”

Scully followed his line of sight, gasping when her eyes settled on the playful baby in the water.

What followed next was a sob, and he quickly lost his battle with the tears that stubbornly refused to go away. He wrapped his arms around Scully, offering her what solace he could, while his own chin wobbled miserably.

She alternated between sneaking glances at her son and crying into his shirt collar, muttering “Mulder,” desperately as he rocked her back and forth, his hand smoothing out her hair for her comfort as much as his own.

He couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing her like that... it made it hard to stay strong, but he needed to be. For her. He closed his eyes, pleading with the universe never to give her this kind of pain ever again.

When he opened them again, his stomach dropped to the floor.

The woman he'd seen earlier was looking at them, her eyebrows pinched in concern.

He cursed under his breath, his arms tightening around Scully. She was in no state to leave. The best they could do was avoid eye contact and keep to themselves.

But it looked like that wouldn't be enough.

The woman, William's adoptive mother, whispered something to the man she was with, nodding in their direction. His concerned face matched hers, and he nodded. With a sickening lurch, Mulder realized she was getting out of the water, wrapping herself in a towel and heading toward them.

It was too late. They'd been made.

“Scully,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. She only had a moment's warning before the woman was there, glancing down at them with a worried frown.

“Is she alright?” William's mother asked, empathy oozing from her.

Mulder hurried to compose himself, knowing Scully was a lost cause at this point. It would be on him to get them out of this.

“She's fine, sorry,” he managed to speak, wracking his brain for a believable excuse. Best to stick close to the truth. “We—We can't have children, so—” he nodded toward their son, hoping she could fill in the blanks.

Looking behind her at the boy in the water, her face eased into one of understanding.

“Oh, I know how that feels,” she said, smiling consolingly. “Our son over there is adopted. Every day we thank God for blessing us with him. He's our little miracle.”

Scully grips him tighter, barely restraining a mournful wail. His heart sinks, knowing this interaction isn't going well at all.

He presses a desperate kiss to her hair, wishing he'd never exposed her to this pain. Wishing they were alone in the confines of their hotel room or car so she could let it all out without arousing suspicion. Wishing this woman, as kind-hearted and friendly as she seemed to be, would leave them alone.

“Are you sure she's okay?” she asked Mulder, brows furrowing again.

His hand rubbed up and down Scully's shoulder, and he nodded. “She will be. This is—hard for her.”

“Okay,” the woman said, not sounding fully convinced. “Let me know if there's anything I can do. Like I said, I've been where she is.”

“Thank you,” Mulder choked out, eyes flitting about, looking for their escape.

Through the gate. Through the hotel. Down to the beach.

“Oh, sorry,” William's mother spoke, turning back instead of leaving. “I never introduced myself. My name is—”

“No!” Scully stopped her, looking suddenly panicked and alert.

The woman startled at the outburst, jumping back slightly.

“Mulder, we can't know,” Scully said, looking pleadingly at him. “We can't know anything, we can't!”

“It's okay,” he said softly, coaxing her back from the edges of a total breakdown. “It's okay.” He looked back up at William's mom, smiling an unconvincing smile. “I think we'd really better get going. It was nice talking to you,” he said as he helped Scully to her feet. “Come on, hon, back to our room.”

It was hard to move quickly with Scully desperately clinging to him, but it wasn't the first time they'd been in this position. Once they got back inside, he'd run her a nice warm bath and apologize over and over for everything he'd ever done to hurt her.

They just. Had to. Get. Through—

“Wait.”

He froze.

“You're—You're his parents, aren't you? The ones who gave him up?”

Ice water filled his veins. He could feel Scully shaking like a leaf under his arm.

“We really should be going—” he tried, refusing to turn back around.

Her voice was closer now. “You are. I—there's so many things I've wished I could ask you. At least let me thank you. Please.”

Against his better judgement, he risked a glance back.

“Mulder, we have to go,” Scully begged, now standing on her own and pulling him by the hand. His feet were rooted to the ground, unable to take a single step forward or back.

“Just wait a minute, Scully,” he said, his brain running a mile a minute to calculate the amount of danger each potential course of action held.

He met the woman's eyes, serious.

“Look, this is not easy for her. For us. Our situation right now is—” his eyes scanned around for anything out of place, “We—We really shouldn't be talking to you.”

The woman stepped closer still, a pleading expression on her face.

“It was a closed adoption, I know. But—”

“I'm sorry. We can't.”

Scully looked exhausted, frightened, and sick all at once. Every second they stood there chipped away at her, the anxiety sinking deeper and deeper into her skin.

“You're right about one thing,” Mulder conceded, glancing over at his son and drinking in his unconcerned, innocent features.

The next words nearly choked him with sorrow.

“He is a miracle.”

They were meant to be parting words, a reminder to this woman to never take what she has for granted, but before he could move, a hand landed on his forearm, effectively stopping him.

“We'll let you see him,” the woman offered desperately, near tears herself. “Please. Just a few moments.”

And with that on the table, Mulder was torn.

On the one hand, this woman had offered them something invaluable: a chance to say goodbye, something they hadn't been able to do properly the first time.

On the other hand, it would be selfish. To put their son and his new family in danger simply because they got caught in a moment of weakness... it was unfathomable. He couldn't be responsible for more suffering. He didn't think he could bear it.

“Please?” the woman said again, squeezing his arm.

He had a decision to make. Glancing once more at Scully's crumpled face, he caught sight of the slightest hint of hope. A barely-there gleam that he'd tear down earth and heaven for the chance to brighten.

His decision was made for him.

Cursing his lack of willpower, he turned suddenly to meet the woman's eyes.

“Not here,” he whispered sternly, pointing in her direction. “Give us half an hour, then come to room 409.”

“409,” the woman repeated, nodding. “We will.”

Mulder hardened his jaw, giving one final nod before collecting Scully and hurrying off into the building without another glance back.

“This is dangerous, Mulder,” Scully said worriedly as they passed through the hall, though he knew deep down she was relieved that she might get to see her son again. He only hoped that this risk would be worth it, that they'd be able to find some semblance of peace here and leave feeling less like a part of them was missing when all this was over.

As soon as they entered their room, Scully broke down.

“Oh my god, Mulder,” she gasped, crouching low to the ground and covering her face with her hands.

He immediately dropped to his knees to help her up, ushering her over to their bed.

“Did you see him? He's gotten so big.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mix of happy and sad, and though he'd known Scully and her nonverbal cues for so long, he still wasn't quite sure what she needed right now.

“Yeah, I saw him, Scully,” he answered, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently.

“Do you think they'll really come?” she asked, hopeful, but hesitant.

“We need to be prepared in case they don't,” he answered realistically, thinking of an entire squad of police cars surrounding the hotel with their flashing lights and sirens. “I can pack up the toiletries, you got the suitcase?”

She nodded, grateful to have something physical to do.

Mulder checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes. If they didn't come in twenty-five minutes, it was time to get out of dodge.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “I love you, Scully.”

“I love you too,” she answered, breathing deeply to calm herself. Checking one last time to make sure she was okay, he nodded and released her, each to their own assignments to ensure they were ready to make a quick escape if need be.

As the minutes passed, they became restless. They watched the clock, counting down the seconds until they should have arrived.

Their cutoff time came and went. Mulder was about to call it and give the signal to run, already gathering bags and suitcases, but the subtle knock on their door stopped him in his tracks. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing for Scully to stay quiet while he checked the peep hole.

The sight before him caused his shoulders to slump in relief.

“It's them?” Scully asked hopefully, reading his body language.

He gave a cautious smile back, then unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

There they were, William’s adoptive parents.

And William.

It nearly took his breath away. 

This close. They were this close to him, after thinking they’d never see him again. He felt like a dehydrated man in a desert stumbling upon an oasis when he was sure he was going to die.

“Hi,” the woman said, looking more uncertain now that they weren’t out in the open. Her husband looked similarly guarded, but they were here, that was all that mattered.

“Uh, come in,” Mulder said, finding his voice.

He stepped aside to allow them entrance, and Scully immediately stood from her seat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in front of her.

“I promise we’re not here to take him,” he assured them, closing the door behind them. “As much as we wish we could.”

Once the door was secure, he went to stand by Scully, placing a hand on her back.

“We were just passing through, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sitting there in the pool.”

The woman nodded, still a little tense, but wanting to believe him.

“Small world,” her husband said, standing protectively next to his wife and child.

Mulder nodded.

“Look, there’s not much information we can give you. For his safety and yours, this is the way it had to be.”

“I always wondered where he came from,” the woman said. “I thought maybe a teen mom, or someone who just couldn't take care of him, but, you—”

“He was always wanted,” Scully spoke, finally able to speak for herself. Her voice came out strained, gasping for air between words. “I prayed for him for so long.”

Mulder's hand found hers, giving it a squeeze to lend her some of his strength.

“He was our miracle.”

The woman looked down, saddened by this news.

“But you were right,” Scully continued, steadying her voice. “We couldn't take care of him. Our life—it isn't stable enough for a child right now. It might never be again. So, I gave him up.”

“Didn't you have a family member who could have taken him? A friend?” the man asked. “Why a closed adoption?”

Scully shook her head, looking down at her feet. How she had wished she could have sent William to live with Bill and Tara, maybe even Charlie. But it wouldn’t have been enough. It would have only endangered more people she cared about.

“That's something we can't disclose,” Mulder answered for her. “But someday, when he asks, I want him to know...” He breathed, summoning the strength to form the words. “I want him to know that we loved him... so much.” With each breath he took, tears filled his eyes, clogging his throat until he wasn't able to speak anymore.

They would always love him, for as long as they lived. Giving him up wasn't going to change that.

“Well,” William's new mom said through tear filled eyes. “I can't tell you how much it means to us to have him.” Scully bowed her head, nodding along with a steady stream of tears. “I promise to take good care of him. He'll be safe and happy with us.”

“Thank you,” Scully whispered, unable to look the man and woman in the eyes.

“We've been worried about him,” Mulder admitted, “hoping he was alright...” He checked in with Scully, reading her like he was so good at doing, before deciding it was safe to speak for them both. “I think, seeing that he is... is a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.”

Scully gave a nod in agreement, looking up at Mulder with something of a promise. A promise that they would be okay, eventually.

“I can't imagine what you must have gone through,” the woman said. “But we are so thankful. He—I don't suppose you want to know his name?”

“No,” Scully said quickly. “I—we can't. I couldn't handle the temptation.”

The temptation to track him down, just for the chance to see him again.  That was a dream that could never be.

“What did you call him?” the woman asked, and Mulder squeezed Scully's hand again, letting her know it was okay. It was a common enough name, there couldn’t be any harm in telling her the truth.

“William,” she answered. “His name was William.”

To hear it spoken aloud after all this time was a relief. It had been almost taboo the past six months, too painful a word to be uttered. But now, there was something freeing about letting his name hang in the air.

Letting go, Mulder realized. They had to let him go.

“Well...” the woman began again, smiling at them reassuringly. “William is such a bright and curious child. He loves building towers out of blocks and throwing things at it to knock it down. He—He has this stuffed fox he takes everywhere. They're practically inseparable. His first word was 'mama'. He likes watching baseball and hockey with his dad. He—He's everything we could have hoped for, and more. So, thank you. Thank you for making such a beautiful child for us to love.” Her eyes shone with happiness, the kind which Scully wondered if she’d ever felt. “I knew you had to be remarkable people, because he's a remarkable child.”

“And now we know where he gets those lips and that hair from,” the father added, lightening the mood as much as possible, under the circumstances. “He's covered in sunscreen, must be your genes,” he said, nodding at Scully with a smile. And wonder of wonders, she laughed, a sudden, unexpected thing, and leaned into Mulder's side.

“We should let you go,” Mulder said after a moment, hating that it had to be done. “We'll need to be heading out soon.”

“To where?”

“We can't tell you that.”

Will's adoptive father's eyes met those of his biological one, and a look of understanding passed between them.

Adjusting her hold on William, the woman spoke, glancing between them as she did.

“I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you a moment with him.”

Scully's head snapped to attention.

“You've already sacrificed so much,” she continued, “And I trust you. You're doing what's best for—for William. I know you have his best interests at heart.”

Mulder wished, wished, wished he could honestly say it was in William's best interests to be with him and Scully... but it wasn't. The truth of their reality was such that it could never be. Not through any fault of their own as parents—but because of external forces working against them, desperate to tear them apart and leave them with nothing.

But they had failed.

Because what they had was more than nothing. They had each other. And though they would have to live with the knowledge that a part of them was missing, maybe after today they would be able to make peace with what they do have. To live life to the fullest given the circumstances they've been forced to survive in.

In truth, he hadn't felt this hopeful about the future since the moment Scully first placed his son in his arms. There was still a mountain of hardships to surmount, but it didn't seem quite as impossible as before. And it was all thanks to a chance encounter with their son, at the precise moment they needed him most.

“We'll leave you be,” Will's mother spoke, checking with her husband to make sure he agreed. “If you need us, we'll be downstairs having some coffee.”

Scully's brows slanted in worry. “You don't have to go, it's okay,” she said, wanting to stop them.

“You deserve some time alone,” the woman said kindly, shaking her head. “I can see how much you need it, dear.”

Scully's chin wobbled, dangerously close to another round of tears.

And then she was coming toward them, William perched on her hip. She deposited him right into Scully's disbelieving arms, and Mulder immediately felt his throat close, the sight one he'd seen almost every night in the most heart wrenching of his dreams.

This was what he'd hoped to come home to after his time in the desert. This was what kept him sane between bouts of torture in a prison cell. To see it now was equal parts fulfilling and painful.

“I can give you something, a guarantee we won't run off with him,” he choked out, working to free his wrist from his moderately expensive watch. William's dad reached a hand out and stopped him.

“We trust you,” he said with a sad smile. “We'll be back in an hour. Please, take all the time you need.”

And with that, they left the room.

As soon as they were gone, Scully's head dropped to rest against the strawberry blond locks of their son, and she let out a sob.

“William,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his head. He seemed unfazed, and part of Mulder wondered if he still remembered her. If deep down, he knew this was the woman who had once fed him from her own body, sung him to sleep in an off-tune melody, soothed him when he had nightmares...

It wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

The same couldn't be said for him, however.

“I can't believe this, Mulder,” Scully cried, her tears falling into his downy-soft hair. Mulder led her back to the bed, sitting beside her with their son on her lap. “Did you hear what they said? He's so much like you, watching sports on TV, knocking his blocks down... He'll be throwing pencils at the ceiling in no time.”

That brought a small smile to his face, and he leaned to his right to press a kiss to Scully's forehead, his hand falling into place on their son's back.

William leaned away, taking in the new faces with a curious tilt to his head.

“Hey, bud,” Mulder said, offering him a finger to hold. For all the time he'd spent thinking of what he'd say to his kid if given the chance, he was coming up short now that he was face-to-face with the reality. “I missed you so much,” he managed to say, “And look how much you've grown!”

William reached out, holding his hands up in front of him, and Mulder's heart leapt. Glancing at Scully for permission, he slid his hands under his arms, lifting him to his chest and nuzzling him close.

“Oh, Scully,” he said, beginning to cry again, feeling the weight of William on his chest, real and tangible. “Sometimes I thought it was all a dream. But we have a son.”

It was hard to think of him out in the world, when he was hardly more than an idea. But now—he had face to put to the name, a personality to remember. He had a son.

She nodded, watching them with a watery smile. He pulled back just to look at him again, to memorize those chubby cheeks and the way he smelled. The precise shape of his eyes, their color, still the same as his mother's.

“I'm so glad we stayed here, Mulder,” Scully whispered. “To think I tried to talk you out of it...”

“Fate was working its magic, Scully,” he said, cutting her off. “This was meant to be.”

For the next hour, they played on the floor together, using Mulder's keys as a toy to hold William's attention. He was walking now, and took turns toddling between them, excitedly holding the TV remote in one hand and squealing when they praised him for successfully making it without tripping or falling.

For a while, they could almost forget this wasn't real. That they weren’t on borrowed time, already risking things they shouldn't be for this blissful moment of being a family.

Mulder got to see Scully as a mother. She saw him as a father. Finally, they had the chance to step into those roles, feeling fulfilled in ways they never could have imagined. It went far beyond any truth that once lay hidden in the X-Files. Nothing in that office of theirs could have given them purpose like this. Only each other, and the life that was formed out of the love that was sparked right there in the basement of the Hoover building so many years ago.

Mulder had always wondered how it would sound to hear the words “da da da” come from a child's mouth, and to know they meant him. Though his babbling wasn't intentional, merely a repetition of the same syllables “da” and “ma” over and over again, he was soaking it in. Committing it to memory. Praying—because only something like this could drive a man like him to prayer—that his son would think about him. Would think about his mother. That he'd grow to know and understand and appreciate the heartache they suffered at giving him away.

That maybe he'd love them too, despite never knowing them.

And maybe.

Maybe.

One day, they'd see each other again.

It was getting late. Scully could tell it was past William's bedtime. She laid him on their bed, and laid down beside him on her stomach, content just to look at him and be near him for however much time they had left.

Mulder joined her on the other side, resting a hand on top of William's gently rising and falling belly.

“I love him more than I ever knew was possible,” he whispered, and noticed as Scully wiped away a tear.

“It hurts, knowing we have to say goodbye.”

Mulder nodded, reaching a hand over William to rub circles on Scully's back.

“But not as much as it hurt before.”

Mulder remembered how Scully screamed, when he first found her in that dirty, abandoned house in Georgia.

“Don't take my baby. Please don't take my baby.”

It was different now.

This time, it was on their own terms. Their curiosities were satisfied, the things they always would have wondered about.

Who he resembled more. What his voice sounded like. His smile and his laugh when he was happy. The way he scrunched his face when he wasn't.

But above all else: would he be okay?

And now that they knew without a doubt that he was? They could let him go.

As much as any parent could let go of a piece of their soul, their own flesh and blood.

He would always be a part of them. They would always wish things could have gone differently. But at least now, Mulder had had a chance to say goodbye. At least Scully wasn't being forced to leave him with little warning, worrying that she was abandoning him to an unknown fate.

A blanket of peace fell over this humble, outdated hotel room. And for the last few minutes they would spend as parents together, Mulder and Scully counted themselves lucky. For this time was a gift, far more than they could have ever hoped to receive.

The same knock from earlier sounded, and a heavy feeling settled in Mulder's chest. He dragged himself away from the bed, while Scully lifted the sleeping William into her arms and held him close.

“How did he do?” their son's mother asked, looking perfectly at ease in a way that calmed and reassured him.

“Great,” Mulder answered. “He—He's perfect.”

The time had come. Scully knew it too. They'd already stayed longer than they should have. He knew there was a long night of driving through pitch darkness ahead of them, and he really, really didn't want to go.

But he had to do what was right for his son. That was all he ever wanted to do, as a father. He just didn't want to be the one to break Scully's heart all over again.

“I guess this is it,” Scully said, sounding calmer than he would have expected. He knew her, though, and he could see the emotions brewing beneath the surface.

It would be a tearful night for both of them.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said to William's new mom, stepping fatefully toward her. But before she could pass him over, she paused, looking down at him for the last time in her own arms. “William?” she spoke, her voice strained. “Mommy loves you.”

“Daddy loves you too, baby boy,” Mulder said, never having referred to himself as such before, but wanting to know how it felt.

He cupped the sleeping child's head, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then another, not able to convince himself that each would be the last.

“I'm so sorry, William. Be good for your mom and dad, okay?”

Scully leaned against him, her strength beginning to wane.

“Goodbye,” she said, kissing him desperately all over, playing with his socked foot and each of his tiny fingers. “I want to believe I will see you again someday.”

As they passed him over, together this time, William's new parents smiled tearfully.

“If—If he suddenly gains an interest in Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster,” Mulder began in a worried, cautionary tone, “just buy him some picture books. He'll be okay.”

Though it easily could have been a joke, no one laughed. In fact, the man and woman nodded, taking his advice to heart. He felt better knowing their son would be accepted, no matter who he grew up to be. The child of the FBI's most unwanted was sure to be a bit of a loner.

“And tell him he'll grow into his nose. Sort of,” he added, this time eliciting a small smile from Scully.

“I promise, we'll tell him every day how loved he is,” the woman vowed. “I'm glad we met you.”

“I'd call it a God-given miracle,” the man said, and he reached out a hand to Mulder to shake. “Stay safe,” he said, then catching sight of Scully's necklace. “We'll be praying for you.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Mulder's arms suddenly felt empty. He could see Scully felt the same, wrapping hers around her own torso just for something to hold. He enveloped her in an embrace, holding tight to keep both her and himself from chasing after them.

“Bye,” the woman said over her shoulder, her worried eyes unwilling to turn away from the sad couple they'd met. She gave a small, consoling smile, and lifted William's pudgy hand to wave goodbye.

Mulder and Scully waved half-heartedly in return, smiling as genuinely as they could, and watched as they disappeared through the door.

Once they were gone, Scully turned into Mulder's chest and held tight. His cheek rested on top of her head, and they swayed, silent but for the sound of the ocean nearby.

“We're gonna be okay,” Scully said at last. “Mulder—”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity and love.

“We're gonna be okay.”

[oogysblog]

Okay I am here to warn everyone to leave the area I am about to explode and this place is about to be spammed with my fanfic I just thought about

[spacecasehobbit]

Every so often, I find myself thinking of the kind of story that Billy could have had if it had been Neil who got flayed in S3, instead of Billy.

If it was Neil who went off to work one day, and came back Wrong... not because he came back mean, but because he came back too nice. Too calm, missing all the sneers and casual insults that are usually thrown Billy's way whenever they're in the same room; strangely unconcerned with Billy's life but too concerned with whatever Max and that new friend of hers are up to, instead of offloading "responsibility" for his step-daughter's every move to Billy under threat of violence if he doesn't make her stick to Neil's rules.

And Billy is the only one who notices just how wrong this all is.

Max listens to him about as well as she ever does - which is to say: not at all - when he tries to bring up Neil's behavior with her (admittedly, he probably brings it up with his usual amount of grace and tact, which is to say: also none). It's not like Billy can tell the cops that his dad is acting weird by being too nice, if he was even the sort of person who went to cops to solve his problems. He hasn't exactly cultivated the kind of friendships where they talk about his relationship with his shitty dad, either, so he's exhausted his extremely short list of people who might understand as soon as Max storms off in her usual cloud of pissy, righteous teenage anger at his inability to talk to her without being a dick right off the bat.

And like, he's not even entirely sure why he's bothering to try and understand this new leaf Neil's turned over? Shouldn't it be a good thing that his dad is mostly just ignoring him, that Neil's finally taking a bit of responsibility for the kid whose mom he decided to marry and play happy little family with in the first place?

It's just... it's weird, is all.

It's weird, and it grates at him, and he can't help but drag himself into this mess, looking for trouble even when it doesn't find him first as his dad likes - liked - to say whenever Billy got caught up in the consequences of his own poor decision making.

So long story short, Billy goes from the one always being watched to the one always watching his dad, discovers his dad may or may not be starting some kind of cult with all his (white, male, because the man's definitely got plenty of bigotry that Vecna's perfectly happy to play along with, as long as he gets his army somehow) coworkers, discovers that actually it may be a literal fucking Satan cult or some shit when some of those coworkers and/or his dad start bleeding black (and maybe he catches sight of that new friend of Max's displaying what are definitely magic fucking powers), and winds up stumbling into the midst of the Upside Down plot all on his lonesome just as things are coming to a climax with the melted-people-spidermonster at the brand new mall, of all places.

And maybe Billy's been doing some of his own rather difficult and unpleasant personal introspection and character growth, in between spying on his dad and discovering that his sister and her nerdy little friends know way too much about magic and monsters, but still can't seem to notice just how fucking weird her own step-dad is acting until he goes straight-up feral at their little magic friend, said magical friend shoves him through a brick wall with her brain, and he escapes without so much as a broken bone so far as Billy can tell from his vantage point, hidden what is suddenly looking like a much less safe distance away from whatever-the-fuck-that-was than he'd originally thought.

The point is, Billy's done some thinking of his own. Some growing as a person, even, one might say.

So by the time he follows his dad to the mall, he still honestly has no clue what the hell is going on, but he knows his dad has always been a bastard, and he knows that little magic kid his dad is dragging towards a horror movie spider monster the size of their house might be the only one who can save this stupid nonsense town full of monsters and cornfields and bullshit and maybe, possibly, a few people who don't deserve to die horribly in some insane alien monster apocolypse.

In this universe, instead of El making a last minute, desperate attempt to reach out to Billy with empathy before the Mind Flayer feeds her to the monster, it's Billy who steps in out of nowhere to distract his dad from this random little girl the monster seems to want so badly but isn't gonna get.

Because Neil's been acting weird. He's been ignoring his fuckup of a son, paying too much attention to Max and hasn't even called Billy a delinquent or an irresponsible fuckup or a faggot in nearly a week, and apparently he's possessed by a monster that might literally be from hell.

But Max seemed to think Neil was still somewhere in there when he went crazy on her little magic friend, and maybe she couldn't reach him, but Billy's spent half his life learning just how to push his dad's buttons and get Neil's attention lazer-focused on himself.

Pissing off Neil Hargrove is an artform that Billy's long since perfected.

It feels good to be doing it on purpose because he's trying to stand in front of someone else to keep them safe, for the first time since his mom left and he started thinking he had to care about himself first, since no one else was going to. Doesn't even feel afraid when he tells his dad loud enough for the peanut gallery to overhear that he was right all those years, he raised a filthy fucking faggot who likes dick instead of pussy, that he doesn't give a shit about respect and responsibility if those things are supposed to turn him into a Man like the one that Neil Hargrove's always been.

Billy's always been a disappointment to his father.

Somehow, that fact doesn't sting like it used to.

Now he's got proof his dad hates him enough to shake off a shadow monster from another world just to beat on his own kid, and Billy?

Billy meets his dad's rage with a fucking smile.

For once, his dad's hits don't hurt more than the ache of the physical bruises they'll leave behind, don't come packed with that extra kick of guilt and shame and longing for a dad who loves him. For once, he makes himself get back up, bloody teeth bared with all the feral hatred and rage fostered from years of living in fear of his own father, and he hits back at the man who was already a monster long before he ever got possessed by one from another world.

Billy was never gonna be the kind of son his father wanted, but it's on his own terms now. Because Billy's never gonna be the kind of man his father was, either.

And step one of being a better kind of person is making sure this stupid fucking town and his annoying bitch of a step-sister and all the other weird little nerds and annoying classmates she seems to hang out with and all the other blissfully ignorant hicks sensibly enjoying the 4th of July fair instead of fighting eldritch horrors in the mall, actually survive to see July 5th...

Even if that means fist fighting his dad in the mall while a little magic girl takes advantage of Neil's distraction to take on a melted flesh monster in the background of this brand new form of fucked up mess his life has somehow become.

[divinemissem13]

30 Days of Prodigy, day 20: Gwyn

Gwyn knew, when she arrived on Solum, that there was a chance she might run into her father. But on a planet of millions, that chance was minuscule at best... right?

After months of travel at maximum speeds, Gwyndala’s ship was finally in orbit over Solum. Gwyn stared out the viewport, mesmerized by her first glimpse of her home planet. It felt strange to call it her home planet, when she’d never been there before. But that’s what it was. Home. 

Gwyn beamed down to an empty alley in the largest city they could find. After a few fortifying breaths, Gwyndala the Unifier took her first determined steps on her home world. She strode confidently out of the alley and right into a steady flow of Vau N’akat people (she had never dreamed of seeing so many Vau N’akat in one place!). 

Only then did she realize that she had no idea where she was going. All of these months planning what to do and say and it had never occurred to her that the holographic representations of Solum that her father had always shown her would be completely out of sync with the world she encountered now. Roads and buildings she expected to see would not be built for decades - possibly ever, if she was successful. 

Gwyn was jostled and jolted like a salmon swimming upstream as she tried to get her bearings. She must have looked as lost as she felt because suddenly, a kind hand was on her arm, pulling her out of the fray.

“First time in the big city?” asked the resonant baritone voice attached to the hand. The voice sent a chill down Gwyn’s spine. She looked up at the man who was barely a few years older than she was. His complexion was smooth and his eyes held hope and kindness, rather than anger and hate. She would barely have recognized him if not for the distinctive voice…

Gwyn was face to face with the younger version of her father. 

She shook her head briskly to clear it. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you might need some help. You look a bit lost,” he said with a friendly smile. 

“Oh, I, uh…” Gwyn stuttered, her usually sharp brain suddenly feeling like it was wading through molasses. She struggled to reconcile the helpful stranger before her with The Diviner that he would turn into.

NO, she reminded herself, if I do my job right, there will be no Diviner. This helped to focus her thoughts and finally she was able to cobble together an answer. 

“Yes, I seem to have gotten turned around. I’m looking for… town hall? I think?” 

The warm laugh that Gwyn heard next was something she had never imagined. She hadn’t realized her father knew how to laugh - had in fact wondered if Vau N’akat were even capable of laughter until she heard herself laughing in the mess hall on the Protostar. And yet, it came so easily to him now, melodic and free. Gwyn thought it might be the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. 

“I’ll tell you what,” he offered, “why don’t we go sit down on that bench over there and you can catch your breath and tell me what it is you are trying to do. Then we can figure out whether or not you are looking for town hall or someplace else!”

Gwyn breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the man who would someday be her father. “That sounds wonderful.”

[writingforfun0714]

Hello everyone, sorry I have been inactive for about a month or so.

I’ve also been hard at work on my very first request for @depressed-sasuke

I wanna thank you for being so patient with me. Like I said earlier, I ended up doing a rewrite and took some stuff out cuz it had started to trail on a bit too long. I also noticed quite a few typos doing a quick reread so if there’s any others I missed, I’m sorry—I really just wanted to post this today. I hope you like it🥰

Maisy

Request from @depressed-sasuke : Jungle Book (2016) OC character

About the character

—Name: Santi

—16 M

I also added a few other OCs just to fill out some human characters.

Warnings: Spoilers for Jungle Book 2016, 3rd POV, OC character/s, long fic

10,433 word count

A Chance Encounter

3rd POV

It’s a warm day in the Seeonee jungle. The breeze is light and there’s not a cloud in the sky. Shere Khan, the law-breaking tiger, has been gone for 6 years, ever since his fight with the mancub, Mowgli. The boy himself saw the tiger fall into the Red Flower. Despite stealing the forbidden Red Flower and nearly burning down the jungle, Mowgli had shown great courage and strength in choosing to side with his wolf brethren and using his intelligence to outsmart the ferocious tiger.

After the great elephants put the flames out, Mowgli had decided to remain with the wolfpack that his mother, Raksha, now leads. For 6 years, the jungle had known peace and tranquility. In those years, Mowgli has grown into a strong, confident, if a bit wild 16yr old. Remnants of his childhood is still visible with his red loincloth still in use and his boyish face not having grown into that of a full-grown man’s face, though his hair has gotten longer and his body is no longer scrawny and small but muscular and lean, littered with a few scars.

Despite Shere Khan’s defeat, there are rumors that he lives. Men from the manvillage claim to have seen shadows of a monster. Among those men is Dev, an accomplished hunter of the village. Mostly hunting for food, Dev has only hunted in order to protect and feed the manvillage unlike those who view hunting as a sport and kill for fun.

Dev is a single father who has a 16 year old son named Santi. Santi has soft brown skin and jet black hair with the same intense, dark eyes as his father. Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, was killed bringing Santi into the world. While Santi loves the jungle, he also gets along well with the other children in the village. In fact, he’s with them right now as the adults discuss what to do about Shere Khan.

The adults are gathered around the fire pit in the center of the village. It’s mostly men, though there are a couple women also gathered too. Santi is keeping the kids out of the way but they’re still close enough to overhear what the adults say. They are worried about their cattle disappearing.

“No one has seen anything? Really?” A middle aged man asks, looking around at the crowd. People murmur ‘no’s and shake their heads.

“It’s a monster-“ a woman says, garnering attention.

“A monster?” A young man asks and she nods.

“We all know monsters are not real,” the first man argues.

“It had burned flesh and a blind left eye,” the woman insists. Whispers of Shere Khan, the tiger, flow through the crowd. An argument suddenly forms between the woman and the middle aged man.

“Khan burned in the forest fire 6 years ago-“ he says.

“Did you see it? Did anyone actually see the tiger perish in the flames?” The woman asks the crowd and no one answers. Some even look away. The arguing continues, but Santi has stopped paying attention and started remembering the day the village saw the fire engulfing the jungle across the river. Santi was a young 10 year old boy who just started to learn the basics of hunting. Santi was with his father as he told hunting stories to the other men gathered around the huge bonfire. It was nighttime and Santi was sitting on a small rock, working on re-stringing his bow when he saw it. A shadowy figure that made its way across the bridge. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he did see the mysterious figure take one of the torches and run back into the jungle. That was right before the alarm bell rang to alert everyone about the fire. Santi never told anyone about the mysterious figure and the torch.

“Monster or not, something is killing our livestock. Until we catch the culprit, I suggest we have watch duty over the herd,” Dev suggests.

“Messua, you said the creature was burned?” Dev asks and the young woman nods.

“Badly…it..it had no pelt left-“ Messua says, remembering the vivid, grotesque beast that was once Shere Khan. She shivers fearfully.

“Everyone, I will need the most experienced hunters with me to track down this beast, volunteers be warned, you may not return,” Dev says. 3 strong young men in their 30s step forward. Dev knows them, being the best hunter of the village, he taught those men himself when he was a teenager and they were children. Santi stands and he makes eye contact with his father.

“I’m ready to join you Father, I’ll make you proud,” Santi assures his father. Knowing how far his son has come with his lessons and teachings, Dev nods approvingly.

“I’ve always been proud of you Son,” Dev says as the children give Santi encouragement.

“We will take the time to gather our weapons and ready ourselves. It’s nearly sunset, so we will depart then,” Dev says as Messua steps forward.

“While the hunting party is out, we need to decide who will watch over the herd of cattle,” she says as Santi, his father and the 3 volunteers head off to get what they need. Meanwhile deep in the jungle…

The Seeonee wolfpack is gathered around Council Rock. Raksha, Mowgli’s mother, is sitting on the Alpha’s spot with the rest of the Pack all sitting at attention. The Pack elders are sitting to Raksha’s left. Mowgli is sitting with his siblings and Baloo the bear while Bagheera is up in a nearby tree that overlooks Council Rock.

“Alright, quiet please everyone,” Raksha says, getting the Pack’s attention and everyone quiets down.

“I’m afraid I must report some unsettling news. Our scouts have seen signs of Shere Khan, the tiger,” Raksha says, looking at Mowgli. His dark eyes widen and the boy gasps.

“N-No…No-it can’t be-..I..I killed him when I was a cub-“ Mowgli insists, standing up. Whispers sound through the Pack.

“It’s true Brother-I spotted the tiger while I was out on scout patrol in the Rocky Plains,” Gray, one of Mowgli’s brothers, argues gently. Mowgli wants to argue but the honesty in Gray Brother’s voice confirms their mother’s words.

“I-I saw him fall into the Red Flower-I saw him!” Mowgli insists, looking out at the rest of the wolf pack as they whisper to each other, unsure of his claim. The boy looks pleadingly up at his mother. She nods and glances to the Pack elders, to Biranyi in particular.

“I believe you Mowgli,” the old wolf says, getting everyone’s attention while also making the boy smile.

“For 6 seasons we’ve known peace and good hunts in the Jungle, we have had no reason to think Shere Khan survived the Red Flower,” Biranyi says. When the old wolf mentions the Red Flower, Mowgli feels a pit in his stomach. While his family, including Baloo and Bagheera, have all tried reassuring the boy over the seasons, Mowgli has always felt guilty since he was the one that brought the fire to the Jungle in the first place.

“You chose to be with us just like your mother chose you all those seasons ago,” Bagheera’s voice rings in his head.

“We must send out a hunting party to track down Shere Khan and end him once and for all,” Akru, a young male wolf with brown and gray fur announces, getting Mowgli’s attention.

“No-I must end the tiger,” Mowgli speaks up.

“Mowgli-“ Raksha immediately interrupts, feeling her protective mothering take over. Mowgli looks at her, watching her ears go back slightly in sadness.

“I…I don’t think that is wise. Let a more experienced wolf-“ Raksha tries to tell her son.

“I fought Shere Khan 6 seasons ago! I have to finish this. He dislikes the rest of you, but he HATES me,” Mowgli interrupts.

“Mowgli I-“ Raksha pleads.

“Mother I know I’ve only been on 2 hunts, but Shere Khan killed Akela because of me-I have to avenge him!” Mowgli insists.

“Enough!” Raksha barks harshly, causing the teenager to flinch before sitting back down and the Pack to go silent. Even Bagheera and Baloo appear startled.

“I am the leader of the Seeonee Wolf Pack. There will be no more of this talk Mowgli, is that understood?” Raksha asks seriously. Mowgli looks like he wants to argue with his mother until he catches sight of Bagheera’s big bright lime green eyes. The boy sees Bagheera shake his head slightly and sighs.

“Understood,” Mowgli replies glumly. Raksha nods and proceeds with asking for volunteers for the hunting party. She only picks the experienced hunters and Mowgli can’t help but feel wronged.

“What is it Brother?” Gray asks, nudging Mowgli lightly with his cold, wet nose. Mowgli looks away and pulls his knees up to his chin.

“Nothing,” he says, clearly upset.

After the assembly, Mowgli manages to sneak away without Raksha knowing, however, the boy’s actions don’t go unnoticed by Bagheera. The panther jumps silently off of the branch he was laying on and follows Mowgli.

The cat keeps the brown skinned boy in his sights at all times. Bagheera watches as Mowgli stops by a tree and breaks off a low-hanging branch. Bagheera watches Mowgli break off all the smaller branches sticking out. Bagheera takes a few steps, revealing his position.

“Mowgli, what are you doing?” Bagheera asks, clearly concerned about his boy.

“You heard Mother, she doesn’t want me to finish my fight with Khan,” Mowgli grumbles as he strips the 4-foot long stick down.

“Mowgli, going against your mother is one thing, but she is also the leader of the Pack. If you do this, she can force you out of the Pack,” Bagheera warns.

“I have to do this Bagheera. For Akela. And for myself…I have to finish what I started and as payback for burning the Jungle,” Mowgli says, referring to stealing the Red Flower.

“I know you feel guilty about burning the Jungle. But you never started anything. You did right by all of us by facing Shere Khan,” Bagheera says, “it’s over.” He says finally.

“Not for me. Bagheera…as hunters, isn’t it our job to make sure our prey does not suffer? Khan would be severely burned and deformed. Is it not my job to put him out of his misery?” Mowgli asks.

At first, Bagheera doesn’t answer and instead, looks away as if gathering his thoughts of what he wants to say.

“Yes Mowgli, you are right. As hunters, it’s our job to make sure we hunt only for food, and to not cause suffering. But Raksha is right in her own way. She has a responsibility to you, both as leader of the Pack and your mother,” Bagheera says, and Mowgli sighs.

“I know Mother loves me and wants to protect me, but I have to do this,” the brown-skinned boy insists. Bagheera looks into the boy’s eyes and eventually nods.

“I understand,” Bagheera says, “but I’m going with you.”

“Bagheera, no-I won’t let you get hurt for me,” Mowgli argues and Bagheera shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, but this is nonnegotiable. I will tell Raksha if you refuse,” Bagheera argues calmly back. Mowgli can’t help but smile.

“Alright. I’ll take all the help I can get,” the boy says and Bagheera nods.

Back in the manvillage Dev and Santi are in their home gathering what they need.

“Thank you for allowing me in the hunting party Father. I’ll finally show you what a great hunter I am and I will make you proud, I promise,” Santi assures his father.

“Santi, I know you’re a great hunter and I’ve always been proud of you. You’ve grown into quite a hunter and I’m getting on in years. I can’t move like I used to and my eyes aren’t what they used to be. That’s why I want you in the hunting party, because I know you will succeed where I will fail,” Dev explains. Santi looks at his father in surprise.

“Father you are still the village’s most accomplished hunter. I still have so much to learn from you,” Santi insists and Dev chuckles and ruffles his son’s hair like how he used to when Santi was a small boy.

“I appreciate that Santi, but you are more capable than you know. I have complete and total trust in you,” Dev tells his son, who nods. If he was being honest, part of Santi is glad his father trusts him so much but another part of Santi is worried that if he fails, he’d disappoint his father.

After gathering his knife, bow and quiver of arrows, Santi joins with his father and the other 3 volunteers around the unlit bonfire. The others are also armed with bows and knives strapped around them. The older men start formulating a plan as Dev pulls out a map of the area and Santi listens intently.

“What is the tiger’s last known sighting?” Dev asks.

“Around the southern jungle, past the swamps and the rocky plains, but that was about 6 years ago,” Rohan, one of the volunteers answers. He was one of the children Dev taught when he was a teenager. Now Rohan is an adult and is expecting his first child with his wife.

“He might return to a familiar area, even after all those years,” Amir, another volunteer says. He and Rohan are close friends having grown up together. Dev nods in agreement.

“The deer have been plentiful there as well,” Dev says, looking to Santi. The boy recently went to the rocky plains and managed to snag an older buck so the village could eat. Santi nods.

“I brought one back the day before yesterday,” Santi confirms.

“We’ll split up to cover the large area. Send a smoke signal if you need help or if you spot the tiger. If there is no signal we should regroup somewhere,” Amir suggests. Dev points to a lake.

“There, we’ll regroup at Elephant Lake,” Dev says and the others nod in agreement. Dev turns to his son rather seriously.

“Signal even if you sprain an ankle, ok?” Dev asks.

“Father-“

“Ok?” Dev repeats more insistently and Santi nods, playfully rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Yes Father,” the teenager answers and Dev nods, hugging his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dev says. Santi hugs his father back before joining Rohan and the other 2 hunter volunteers at the bridge that crosses the river that separates the village from the jungle.

The group crosses the bridge and walks together for about a mile until the path stops. It continues a few different ways so this is where the group decides to split up.

“Good hunting,” Dev says.

“Good hunting,” the others repeat before they all take off in different directions.

Santi heads on the southwest trail for about a mile before deciding to go off the dirt path that only travelers and hunters use. Santi runs deeper into the jungle, cautious and alert. His bright, dark eyes scan the area as he runs. Even with the slight breeze, it’s still incredibly hot and Santi starts sweating after about a mile.

Deep in the jungle, Mowgli and Bagheera move swiftly. It won’t be long until Raksha notices Mowgli is gone, considering everyone went back to their den after the assembly.

“Where do we even start looking? Shere Khan could be anywhere,” Mowgli asks as he runs beside Bagheera.

“Gray Brother said he was out scouting the Rocky Plains when he saw Shere Khan. We should start there,” Bagheera tells the boy, who nods and keeps running, climbing up into the trees every now and then.

The two get to the tree line and spot the tall beige grasses of the Rocky Plains.

“Flank left and search,” Bagheera orders quietly and Mowgli nods and the two separate and search.

Back at the dens, Raksha looks around and doesn’t see Mowgli. She sees Gray and Tavi, Mowgli’s siblings, walking together.

“Gray-Tavi!” Raksha calls to her pups. They look at their mother and hurry over.

“Yes Mother?” Tavi asks.

“Where is your brother?” Raksha asks, referring to Mowgli. The two young wolves look around.

“He was here for the howl-“ Gray says, looking around. The end howl happens last at assemblies.

“You know Mowgli. He’s probably off with Bagheera-“ Tavi says. Raksha’s eyes widen and she looks around before realizing her daughter is right. Bagheera is nowhere to be seen either.

“You’re probably right,” Raksha agrees, though a feeling still nags at her. It’s like a pit in her stomach. She knows Mowgli wouldn’t have given up about Shere Khan that easily. Since burning the Jungle and Akela’s death, Mowgli has been plagued with nightmares and guilt that on some days, seem to crush the boy. As his mother, Raksha shares his pain because she cannot stand to see him so upset. Over the years, she’s always assured the boy that even though using the Red Flower was forbidden, he did so with good intentions.

“We can go look for him if you want us to,” Gray offers. At first, Raksha wants to say yes, just to make sure Mowgli is ok, but that’s when she remembers how he seemed at the assembly. The mother wolf realizes she’s being a bit overprotective and sighs.

“No, it’s ok, he should have some time to himself,” Raksha says and the two young wolves nod. As they turn to head back to their dens, Raksha stops them.

“Does…Does Mowgli think I’m smothering him?” Raksha suddenly asks. The two wolves blink and share a look.

“Oh—uh-“ Tavi stutters.

“Tell me the truth pups,” Raksha says. Despite being adults themselves, they will always be her pups.

“Sometimes…but he knows it’s not your fault,” Gray admits.

“Gray-“ Tavi says, nudging her brother with her muzzle.

“What? Mother was going to find out at some point-“ Gray argues. When Raksha gives them a questioning look, Gray sighs and his ears go back slightly.

“Mowgli told us not to say anything,” Gray explains. She nods understandingly.

“It’s harder with Mowgli…he’s different, so I can’t tell when he’s ready to go off on his own,” Raksha says. Mowgli is the only one of her pups that still live with her. While Gray and Tavi have been on multiple hunts, Mowgli’s only been on 2, and has been a chaser both times.

“He knows you love him and that you just want what’s best for him,” Tavi tells her mother. Raksha’s eyes shine and she nods.

“Thank you..both of you. If you go rabbit hunting, be sure to pick up a couple extra for the food reserve,” Raksha instructs and the two nod. As the leader of the Pack, Raksha is in charge of the food supply, making sure it won’t run low unless it’s unavoidable.

“We will,” Gray answers and the siblings walk off towards the small waterfall that provides a source of water for the Pack that’s right by the dens, which is much more convenient than going to Peace Rock.

The wind blows lightly as Santi keeps a slower, steadier pace through the dense jungle. Hearing the different sounds of the jungle keeps Santi alert to everything around him as his eyes scan ahead. The hunting party’s only been separated for a few hours. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Santi knows to look for clues but the jungle is enormous and goes on for thousands of miles. The most logical places would be right across the river since Khan seems to prefer the easier targets of cattle. Being domesticated animals, they are not quick like deer or rabbits and they are all in one place.

Santi climbs over a fallen tree trunk and makes his way deeper into the jungle. Every hour or so, Santi climbs a tree and looks around to check for smoke signals since he’s not near any high ground.

The teenager hears a slight rustling and his hand hovers over the knife strapped across his body. A rabbit races out and disappears into some brush. Getting thirsty, Santi keeps going until he hears the trickle of a small creek. He sees the creek cutting through the trees and approaches. He sticks his hands in the water. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either. He cups some water out and drinks before splashing some water on his face and neck. That’s when he spots it. In the creek bed, Santi spots a paw print in the mud! He gasps and looks at it. It’s big and feline. Canine tracks from dholes or wolves are longer and don’t have claw marks.

Santi remembers his fathers words from one of his first hunting lessons, back when he was a young boy.

“Follow your lead until you can confirm with your own eyes. Just because you spot a set of tracks or a tuft of fur doesn’t mean you’ve spotted your prey,” his father had told him. 10 year old Santi had gotten excited when he found what he thought were tracks of a fox, but were instead of a dhole. He shouldn’t get his hopes up just yet.

It’s been nearly a week of hunting for Shere Khan in the Jungle. Santi has gotten to the rocky plains and no one’s sent up a signal. Which is good…and bad. No one’s hurt or needs help, but no sightings of Shere Khan, yet.

He follows the tracks until they stop. Santi looks around. Bugs buzz and birds chirp. Various rustling from small creatures and even the noise of the breeze makes the stillness seem loud. That’s when he hears a noise. It’s a harsh, painful sounding noise before it dies out as quickly as it came. Santi knows that sound…it’s of a cow dying. Shere Khan!

Santi races in the direction of the noise as fast as he can. The teenager keeps in shape helping his father so he doesn’t tire easily. As Santi runs, he grabs hold of the hilt of his hunting knife. It’s a long hunting knife his father used. Dev gave it to his son for his 13th birthday.

Santi climbs up a rocky outcrop to get a better look. The teenager spots a tree trunk with bloody claw marks carved into the bark and climbs back down. He hurries over to get a better look at the bloody claw marks before turning and spotting a trail of blood that leads to a mauled body of what used to be a cow. It’s covered in claw marks and none of it has been eaten. Santi’s eyes widen. It hasn’t been eaten! It’s a trap!

A vicious roar breaks the quiet of the jungle. The roar sounds like the noise of a demon. Santi glances around nervously and prepares himself. The teenager looks around for any sign of what made the roaring noise. Santi’s hand hovers over the knife hilt, ready for anything.

“Did Shere Khan know to set a trap?” Santi thinks to himself. Unaware to the boy, Shere Khan is watching the teenager’s every move. Despite how much time has gone by, Shere Khan is still in pain. Not nearly as bad as surviving the fall into the fire, but that’s why he’s been eating cattle. He cannot hunt anymore and Man’s cattle are easily killed. His striped fur is all but gone and even patches of his skin are deformed from the Red Flower’s touch. His blind eye is bloody and his good eye can really only see shapes. His sense of smell has returned a little and because of all of the raw skin exposed, his sense of touch is almost always pain.

Santi cautiously moves through the Jungle, unaware his every move is being watched. He doesn’t see any threats nearby, so he decides to start a smoke signal. Green leaves and sticks create more smoke than dry ones, so Santi makes sure to grab some of both.

He finds a flat rock on the ground and two dry sticks about an inch thick each. He piles more of the dry twigs and leaves near him. The boy grabs the two sticks perpendicularly to each other and starts rubbing them together furiously, still being watched by the unseen tiger.

After a few minutes, Santi sees a wispy trail of smoke starting to form from his stick and smiles. Almost there…almost there. Once the smoke is thick enough Santi blows very gently on it to start the ember going. He sees a small glowing orange dot and feeds the ember more dry sticks and leaves to make it grow.

The ember grows into a very small flame so, carefully, Santi adds more dry plant life to the pile. Once the fire has grown a bit bigger (though still rather small in general), Sant starts adding the greener plant life he’s gathered. He puts 2 twigs and a handful of greenish yellow leaves. The fire’s still lit but the smoke gets thicker almost instantly. Accidentally breathing some of the smoke in, Santi coughs slightly before taking off his shirt. He uses the fabric to cover the fire. He moves in and out of the smoke to create clouds of smoke that rise into the air. It should be nice and visible since Santi is near the Rocky Plains and there’s no trees to obscure the smoke.

As Mowgli moves swiftly and quietly through the tall grasses of the plains, he looks in the sky and spots small gray clouds wafting up. Memories of the Red Flower from 6 seasons ago flash through the teenager’s mind. Hoping that it’s not, Mowgli hurries towards the source of the gray clouds. As he moves, Mowgli wonders if Bagheera can see it too, since they split up to cover more area. Hopefully Bagheera’s on his way.

Mowgli manages to sneak his way through the grasses until he gets so close he sees the Red Flower, and the creature making it. Mowgli’s eyes widen in shock. You see, 6 seasons ago, when Mowgli stole the Red Flower from the manvillage, it was night. Only the moon and stars dimly lit the area. Mowgli’s eyes do not work as well as his wolf brethren’s and while he did see the creatures called Man thanks to the glow of the Red Flower, Mowgli didn’t really see any defining features. At the time, the boy just thought they were unlike anything he had ever seen.

But now, in broad daylight, Mowgli sees the haunting similarities between himself and the man creature. The man creature’s fur is shorter and it’s covered in some sort of colorful skin from the back legs going down all the way to cover the back paws. That’s when Mowgli notices a subtle movement in the underbrush. Mowgli immediately thinks of Bagheera, but when he catches the sight of reddish pink flesh, he lets doubt creep in. No, that is not Bagheera.

Without warning, a piercing roar breaks the steady quiet of the Jungle and Shere Khan leaps out at the creature! Mowgli seems almost frozen when he catches sight of the once formidable tiger. Deep down, Mowgli knows that it is Shere Khan, but because of his deformed, almost grotesque appearance, all Mowgli can think of is a monster and fear grips the boy so tightly all he can do is watch.

Mowgli watches the the man creature scream as Khan leaps at him. The tiger’s claws rake across the man’s bare chest and he cries out in pain. Mowgli gasps and his grip on his sharpened stick tightens. Mowgli’s eyes scan the surrounding area and he can’t help but feel down when he doesn’t see any sign of Bagheera. Maybe he’s too far away, Mowgli thinks to himself.

Mowgli watches Shere Khan circle his prey. Mowgli sees the human’s paw come up and cover its bloody chest. The claw marks look deep and blood runs down the creature’s bare chest. Mowgli can’t help but marvel at the similarities between himself and the man creature. Mowgli’s reminded of when Shere Khan managed to scratch his own chest during their fight 6 seasons ago. He was climbing down the dead tree when Khan managed to surprise the boy. He jerked back just fast enough to only get raked by one claw across his upper chest, creating an ‘X’ pattern over an already healed scar from a previous wound.

The human winces and pants, its paw is shaking and Mowgli hopes for Bagheera to show any second now. Seeing Shere Khan move in for the kill, Mowgli shifts his grip on his sharpened stick and winds up to throw it. He takes an almost silent breath before shutting his eyes. He opens them and instantly throws the stick. It pierces the tiger’s flank and he roars in pain. He looks around, though being almost blind, cannot see Mowgli.

“RAAAAUGGHHH!!!!” Mowgli screams, jumping off the branch he was perched on. The teenager collides with the tiger, causing a painful roar and they tumble to the ground. The man creature collapses, blacking out.

Mowgli feels the tiger’s deformed, almost melted skin and winces in disgust before backing away.

“Mowgli!” Mowgli hears a familiar voice call out to him. The boy turns towards the voice and sees Bagheera race towards them. Shere Khan struggles on the ground, unable to get up from the searing pain of being tackled, the permanent pain from the Red Flower and the stick that’s piercing his back left flank. Seeing that the tiger is no threat like this, Bagheera slows to a stop and looks at the injured, deformed tiger. Bagheera’s eyes widen and his ears go back slightly at the sight of the tiger.

“Shere Khan,” Bagheera breathes quietly. He takes in the vivid sight of the tiger and cannot help but admire Khan’s sheer will to live.

Shere Khan swipes wildly at the air in front of him with a roar, unable to tell where Mowgli is.

“You will never be rid of me mancub!!! My hate for you kept my spirit alive and I have waited for the day when I would finally kill you!” Shere Khan snarls angrily. Mowgli carefully moves around in the tiger’s blind spot and yanks out his sharpened stick that was piercing his left flank. Shere Khan roars in pain before whirling around where Mowgli is and swipes viciously. Mowgli jerks backward and falls over, nearly missing the tiger’s claws as they swipe through the air in front of his face. Bagheera prepares to leap but Mowgli stops the panther, shaking his head. Understanding it is Mowgli’s choice to make, Bagheera does as he’s told.

Unaware to anyone, the human stirs and groggily wakes up with blurred vision and a searing pain on his chest. The teenager sees a half naked boy about his age standing in front of him with a sharpened stick that’s bloody. Mowgli attacks the monstrous creature as the injured teenager passes out again.

Mowgli charges forward and jams the sharpened stick into the tiger, screaming as he does it. Shere Khan roars and tries clawing Mowgli before the boy shoves the stick in deeper and the tiger gets weaker and weaker until he stops struggling. The tiger’s breathing is ragged and rough. Mowgli approaches and looks down at the tiger. Mowgli’s dark eyes never stray from Shere Khan’s blind eye and his permanently red, injured eye. The boy watches as Shere Khan’s eyes slowly dim before shutting forever and the tiger’s ragged breathing stops.

Bagheera looks to Mowgli when he sees the boy just staring at the tiger’s lifeless body.

“Are you alright Mowgli?” The panther asks, clearly concerned.

“I…I can’t believe how awful he looked,” Mowgli says. Bagheera nods.

“The Red Flower is merciless to everyone. It’s destructive power is not to be doubted,” Bagheera explains.

At the mention of Man, Mowgli glances over to the creature who looks almost exactly like him.

“Mowgli-we should report Shere Khan’s death to your mother,” Bagheera says, trying to get the boy’s attention, thought it’s not working.

“Bagheera?” Mowgli asks, looking at the large black cat.

“This is what Man looks like?” Mowgli asks him. Truth be told, Mowgli knows the answer, but he needs to hear Bagheera’s answer. Bagheera sighs, but nods.

“Yes Mowgli,” Bagheera admits, knowing what Mowgli was really asking. Mowgli looks at the injuries on the human’s bare chest. 3 long, deep claw marks slash across the Man’s chest.

“We should leave before he wakes up,” Bagheera suggests, though his tone is more insistent.

“The human needs help Bagheera, his wounds look deep,” Mowgli alerts. Bagheera falters slightly.

“Mowgli, contact with Man is forbidden,” Bagheera warns.

“You helped me…why can’t I help him?” Mowgli asks, referring to when the panther found the boy about 16 seasons ago. Not wanting to argue, Bagheera huffs and takes a step, turning.

“You can make choices for yourself…but I will obey the Law,” Bagheera says, disappearing into the Jungle.

“Bagheera—…” Mowgli tries, though he knows Bagheera is already gone. He sighs.

“I have to,” Mowgli says aloud, but more for himself.

Mowgli turns his attention to the human. His chest is bloody and his breathing is shallow and weak.

“Hold on,” Mowgli whispers before running off into the tall grasses of the Rocky Plains. He gets to a sage shrub and rips off a handful of the green plant. Mowgli hurries back. He shoves the sage into his mouth before grabbing the human and hauling the limp body onto his back, draping over his shoulders. The human’s head lolls limply on Mowgli’s left shoulder. He hears the human groan slightly.

Mowgli heads to the only other one who could possibly help him. Baloo.

“Rules were meant to be—well not necessarily broken, but certainly bent. And definitely reinterpreted, don’t ya think?” The sloth bear’s words ring in Mowgli’s mind. The boy prays that Baloo will understand.

Coming in and out of consciousness was disorienting for Santi. He couldn’t tell where he was or what was happening. He could hear grunts of exertion and slight panting with a few huffs. He feels searing pain on his chest.

Santi knows he’s being carried and vaguely thinks he’s been found by someone from the hunting party. His smoke signal…perhaps he was saved by his father, Santi wishes. He feels his one of his feet drag on the ground and a firm grip around one wrist. Feeling lightheaded, Santi shuts his eyes.

Mowgli manages to trek all the way back to Baloo’s cave. Santi feels his feet drag along the ground when he’s conscious and tries to figure out who rescued him. Santi thinks it’s Rohan, but he’s not certain. The injured teenager groans quietly, unable to talk. Mowgli stops outside the entrance, gently setting the injured human down. Mowgli takes the sage out of his mouth before calling out.

“Baloo?! Baloo-are you there?!” Mowgli calls, stepping towards the cave.

“Mowgli? What is it?” Baloo asks, walking out. His eyes widen and the bear stops in his tracks when he sees Mowgli covered in blood. Baloo’s eyes then land on the injured human behind Mowgli.

“Is..is that-?” Baloo stutters.

“A human. Baloo-please, I need to use your cave-“ Mowgli asks.

“Mowgli, I know I said bending the rules is ok, but I’m an honorary Pack member now and I really don’t want to cross your mother,” Baloo says, having known Raksha a good long while now and knows how ferocious she can get.

“Please Baloo, I just need shelter for the human. You don’t even have to help me,” Mowgli pleads. Baloo sighs.

“Please Baloo? I’ll make sure the human doesn’t cause any trouble,” Mowgli insists. Baloo looks at Mowgli and eventually nods.

“Alright. But no one knows of this, do you understand?” Baloo asks seriously.

“Yes and I agree. If Mother finds out about this, she might not forgive me,” Mowgli says and Baloo nods before motioning inside. Mowgli nods and hands Baloo the sage he managed to hang onto.

Mowgli brings the injured man creature inside and sets him down towards the back of Baloo’s cave. The bear hands Mowgli the healing herb and Mowgli nods his thanks.

“I’ll be right back,” Mowgli says, grabbing a thick slab of bark. He runs out holding the sage in one hand and the piece of bark in the other before stopping in the small, slow flowing creek that runs right outside Baloo’s cave.

Mowgli looks around and sees a paw-sized rock and uses it to smash the sage on the piece of bark. He uses the water as moisture to make it easier to mash up. Mowgli has to be careful not to use too much water.

Once the sage is mashed into a green paste, Mowgli nods in approval before hurrying back inside. He sees the human stir and Mowgli starts to gently spread the green paste over the bloody claw marks.

Santi stirs a bit before feeling something cool and slightly soothing on his burning chest. His vision comes in and out of focus, but he sees the person who saved him is definitely not from the hunting party. Fear washes over Santi, though in his injured state, he merely whimpers before blacking out again.

“Mother will be suspicious if I don’t spend nights at home. Baloo I’ll need to leave the human here at night until he’s healed,” Mowgli explains.

“Mowgli I don’t feel comfortable around…them…” Baloo says, eyeing the human suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to do a thing,” Mowgli assures the bear.

“What if the human rubs off the sage? I cannot put the healing paste on,” Baloo says.

“Good point. Oh-hold on,” Mowgli says, hurrying over to the honey stash. Now that they are older, Bagheera doesn’t look down on Baloo having his honey stash. Hunting is no longer something to look forward to, but a chore. Laying in the sun is much more satisfying nowadays according to the panther.

Mowgli grabs a strong vine he weaved that’s also small enough to wrap around paws. He takes it and wraps the human’s front paws together behind its back. Mowgli makes sure the vine is tight and secure before looking up through the hole in the top of Baloo’s cave. Mowgli sees the sun setting and realizes he has to head back home.

About a day and a half passes before Santi finally wakes up and stays awake. While his chest does ache from soreness, it is no longer the same searing, burning pain that was more unbearable. The teenager realizes his hands are tied behind him rather quickly and starts struggling to get free, though it’s not working. He looks and sees the wounds on his chest are covered with a green paste and wonders what it is.

“Rohan? Amir?…Father?” Santi asks aloud, wondering who it is that saved him. Santi wonders why his hands are tied together. The teen looks around and is surprised to see he’s in a cave. To the left of him is a pile of honeycomb that oozes out onto the floor. Santi also spots vines coiled up and a bunch of grass and leaves scattered around for what looks like a sleeping area.

He wants to move but his chest aches and Santi looks at the green paste covering the injured area. That’s when Santi hears footsteps approaching. The teenager shifts as much as he can without his chest hurting too much. Santi feels around and grabs a palm-sized flat stone and wraps his fingers around it to hide just in case.

Santi’s eyes glance over to the entrance, spotting a figure approaching him. His vision focuses and adjusts to make out the details of the figure before freezing in shock. It’s a kid! Well, a teenager, around Santi’s age. But he’s wearing nothing but a faded red loincloth. Santi feels his breathing start to increase out of fear.

“Wh-Who are you?” Santi rasps out. The teenager’s bright dark eyes bore into Santi.

“I’m Santi…did you save me?” Santi tells the unfamiliar teenager. The long-haired teen nods, pointing at Santi’s chest.

“Heal you,” the wild boy tells Santi, “no touch.” Santi nods.

“Thank you,” Santi tells his mysterious savior.

“What’s your name?” Santi asks again but frowns when the other boy appears confused.

“Your name…what are you called?” Santi tries rephrasing.

“M-Mo…Mow-gleeeee…Mowgli,” the boy introduces, sounding out his name. Mowgli points at Santi.

“San-teeeee….Santi,” Mowgli repeats and Santi smiles and nods weakly.

“Yeah-I’m Santi…are you…are you from the village?” Santi asks. Mowgli shakes his head.

Santi remembers where he is and looks around.

“Is this…your home?” Santi asks. Mowgli didn’t seem to understand the question, so Santi motions around to the cave before pointing at Mowgli.

“Your home?” Santi asks again.

“Yes…no…cave is Baloo…I come here, but not home,” Mowgli explains as best he can with his limited knowledge.

When Mowgli was 13, he had learned from Baloo that humans have their own language and had assumed Mowgli knew it as well, being a human. Baloo didn’t know a lot about Man, only what he’d heard through rumors from Bagheera, Akela and Kaa. Chil the kite bird also shared stories of times he’s seen humans.

Baloo knew from past experience that lying to Mowgli was a lot worse than telling him the truth, even if the boy didn’t want to hear it. So any time Mowgli would ask about humans or the Manvillage, Baloo would try and be as truthful as he could, though Mowgli understands that he doesn’t know EVERYTHING.

It’s thanks to the old sloth bear that Mowgli had the courage to start trying to learn Man’s language. Mowgli didn’t want Bagheera to know. The very first thing Baloo taught him is that moving a head up and down means yes and side to side means no.

“Is…is it..dead?” Santi asks. Mowgli snaps out of his thoughts and remembers stabbing the tiger with his sharpened stick. Mowgli nods.

“I kill Shere Khan,” Mowgli says. Santi looks away. Mowgli sees a familiar feeling on Santi’s face. It’s a feeling of…disappointment. Mowgli was familiar with it, mostly when he was younger.

“Why face?” Mowgli asks, pointing to his face. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“My father…he will be disappointed in me. I couldn’t stand a chance against…Sh-Shere Khan,” Santi says, using the name Mowgli used. Mowgli smiles with realization. As he learned the language of Man, humans could learn the language of the wolf. They just had to be taught.

“Father,” Mowgli repeats. Santi nods before wincing in pain slightly. Mowgli notices and frowns. He approaches Santi slowly before gently reaching out and inspecting the wound. It’s not as red as it was and the bleeding stopped, though the claw marks are deep.

“Where did you learn healing?” Santi asks.

“Bagheera,” Mowgli states.

“What’s Bagheera?” Santi asks.

“Panther. Panther smart, told me healing,” Mowgli explains. Santi’s eyes widen. A panther?

“A…panther?” Santi asks.

“What about your mother and father?” Santi asks. Mowgli frowns in confusion.

“You know…Baloo. Isn’t that your father?” Santi asks. Mowgli chuckles and now Santi frowns in confusion.

“Baloo. Papa bear. Best friend. Baloo is best friend,” Mowgli explains.

“Do you have a father or a mother?” Santi asks. It would explain a lot about Mowgli, why he’s almost naked, talks about animals, and why his speech is broken. Mowgli seems to recognize the last word and he nods vigorously.

“Mother! Mother is strong and brave and kind,” Mowgli says. Santi awes at Mowgli’s explanation and, if truth be told, Santi was a bit jealous. He’d always wondered what it was like to have a mother. His father, Dev, would talk about Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, whenever Santi would ask, but he’d never talk about her willingly to Santi. And even when the boy would ask his father, he could tell how sad his father would get from reliving past memories, so he eventually stopped asking so his father wouldn’t get upset thinking about her.

But thinking about his father makes Santi realize that his father is strong, brave and kind. In a way…Dev has been Santi’s father and his mother.

“And your father?” Santi asks. He watches Mowgli’s face fall.

“Killed…by Shere Khan,” Mowgli answers solemnly. Santi’s jealousy evaporates instantly and is replaced with empathy.

“My mother was killed…but I have my father,” Santi tells Mowgli, understanding the pain of losing a parent.

“Do you think you could…untie me?” Santi asks, moving his arms from behind his back. His wrists are still tied together with the vines Mowgli weaved together. Mowgli eyes Santi suspiciously.

“No touch healing paste,” Mowgli warns and Santi nods.

“I won’t,” he promises Mowgli. Santi watches Mowgli nod slightly before moving to get behind him. Mowgli unties Santi and the injured teen sighs with relief.

“Thanks,” Santi tells Mowgli.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the Jungle…

Dev makes his way towards the Swamp. It’s a bit out of the way from the last known area the tiger was spotted, but Dev thought he should check anyways. That is, until he looked up and saw a wispy trail of smoke! Dev’s eyes widen and he races in the direction he saw the pale gray smoke. He hopes it’s a tiger sighting rather than a call for help and he wishes it wasn’t his son either way.

If he was being honest with himself, Dev hadn’t been real present with Santi when the boy was younger. It was when Santi was around 10 that Dev realized how independent Santi had become and had shown an interest in hunting. Dev knew that he should bond with his son for multiple reasons but a big reason is to make up for lost time. He knew he was supposed to provide for Santi, but after the death of his wife, he misplaced his anger onto his son, which wasn’t fair to the boy. But after all these years, Santi is now almost a grown man and Dev doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Santi. Santi is all Dev has left.

After hiking a good 10 miles, Dev finds himself at the source of the smoke. He sees a small pile of green leaves that have blackened edges and tips. He looks around and doesn’t see anyone.

“Rohan? Amir? Ishan? Santi?” Dev asks, calling out each name, “is anyone there?!” Dev asks. He looks around and that’s when he spots the footprint in the ground. He sees it’s a bit smaller than a grown adult’s. Santi, Dev thinks.

Dev looks around and spots a patch of grass that’s been crushed. He sees a couple broken twigs sticking out from a nearby bush and his eyes widen. There’s been a struggle. Dev scans the surrounding area and finds a few drops of blood and gasps. Dev spots a footprint Santi’s size before he goes about 20 feet to the left to look around. That’s when he spots the stick. It’s pointing up awkwardly and Dev pushes past the bushes and walks around the trees until he spots the monster on the ground. Nothing but limp flesh, Dev feels his stomach churn at the sight of the creature that’s no longer the formidable tiger it used to be. Dev spots the blind eye of Shere Khan which is the only reason Dev is able to identify the tiger. Small patches of Khan’s pelt are still visible but mostly around his nose, eyes and ears. Dev understands why the young woman, Messua, thought it was a monster killing our cattle. In his current state, Shere Khan likely couldn’t hunt anything else as cattle are slow, easy pray, even for a creature as injured as he was. Dev sees the bloody stick poking out of Khan.

Dev’s happy the tiger is dead and out of his misery, but Dev’s also worried about his son, wondering if he’s alright. That’s all he wants, really. Dev continues, trying to follow the trail.

“DEV!” Dev hears his name being called as he makes his way through the dense Seeonee Jungle. Dev’s eyes widen and he feels a bit of relief when he recognizes the voice.

“Amir!? AMIR!” Dev looks around before spotting the bearded man approaching.

“Dev! I’m glad you are unharmed. Who sent the smoke signal?” Amir asks before his eyes spot the body of Shere Khan. His eyes widen and has a similar reaction as Dev did.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” Dev suggests and motions away and Dev agrees quickly.

“I’m not sure who started the signal,” Dev says, clearly worried.

“Hey-Santi’s a great hunter. He even outshoots me a few times. I’m sure he’s ok,” Amir tries assuring Dev. Growing up, Amir, Rohan and Ishan have all looked up to Dev so they see Dev as an older brother figure. Dev nods.

“Hey if anything I’m sure it’s Ishan. You know how he always leaps before he looks,” Amir tries, earning a dry chuckle from Dev.

“C’mon, I think the others should be nearby. Let’s split up and look for them,” Amir suggests and Dev nods.

“Right, meet back here,” Dev says and Amir nods and the two split up.

It didn’t take long for Dev to find Rohan and for Amir to find Ishan, so they were able to meet back up fairly quickly.

“I didn’t start the signal,” Rohan says and Dev looks to Ishan.

“Neither did I,” Ishan adds.

“Then…it was Santi,” Dev says. No one says anything, but now that Dev knows it was Santi who started the smoke signal, Dev realizes that Santi crossed paths with Shere Khan.

Amir breaks the news about the tiger to Rohan and Ishan and even shows them the scarred, deformed body. The men gather around away from the lifeless body.

“Shere Khan is dead, that must mean that Santi sent the smoke signal because he spotted the tiger,” Rohan suggests.

“If it was for sighting Khan, where is Santi? He could’ve been hurt after engaging with the tiger. An animal like that is unpredictable,” Dev asks.

“That’s true. Why hasn’t Santi appeared unless he-“ Ishan begins, but that’s when Amir nudges his side roughly. Ishan groans and sends a look to Amir, who glares back at his friend.

“Let’s focus on finding Santi before we worry about anything else,” Rohan suggests logically. Dev nods in agreement. Finding Santi should be priority.

Back in Baloo’s cave, Santi has managed to sit up and Mowgli has given him a water filled fruit shell he made when he was 10. The only time Mowgli used it was when they went to Peace Rock for water. Santi takes a refreshing drink before looking at Mowgli. Santi sets the shell down.

“You’re not from the village, are you?” Santi asks, wiping his mouth nonchalantly. Mowgli shakes his head.

“Mother is leader of Seeonee Wolf Pack,” Mowgli explains. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“Your mother…is a wolf?” Santi asks. Mowgli howls.

“I am Mowgli of the Seeonee,” Mowgli states. The pieces start to connect in Santi’s mind and he realizes that Mowgli is a feral child, raised by wolves.

A million questions race by in Santi’s mind that he wants to ask Mowgli.

“Am I the first human you’ve seen?” Santi settles on a question.

“No..I saw before…6 seasons ago,” Mowgli explains, though Santi notices Mowgli is starting to look uncomfortable.

“Are you ok?” Santi asks.

“I…I saw them…the humans…when I took the Red Flower-“ Mowgli says. Santi’s eyes widen in realization. All those years ago. The shadowy figure Santi saw on the bridge. He’d seen the figure take the torch but didn’t think anything of it as the torches are there to use. It wasn’t until the alarm for the huge jungle fire that started did Santi put two and two together. By then, he was already too scared to say anything. Adding in that the fire was put out rather quickly, no one really thought anything of it.

“You took the fire?“ Santi asks and Mowgli nods sadly.

“Santi!” Mowgli suddenly hears a voice yell in the distance and Santi sees the feral teen tense up.

“You…I hear your name,” Mowgli alerts. Santi’s eyes widen.

“The hunters-“ Santi replies automatically. Mowgli flinches at the word ‘hunters’, knowing what that means.

“No-No-it’s ok. My father is one of them. I…am one of them,” Santi explains and Mowgli takes a step back, gasping quietly.

“But we only hunt if we have to—only to eat and so we’re not killed. That’s what my father taught me and that’s what he’s taught the others,” Santi explains and Mowgli settles slightly.

“Not…for sport?” Mowgli asks and Santi shakes his head.

“My father and I have never hunted for sport,” Santi assures Mowgli.

Mowgli looks and sees the sincerity in Santi’s eyes. The stories he’s heard would be on the contrary, but Mowgli knows better than anyone that you should judge someone by their heart and their actions rather than what they are and their prejudices.

“Hunt to eat,” Mowgli says and Santi nods.

“Santi!!!” The voice yells, getting a bit louder since he’s getting closer. The voice is loud enough that Santi recognizes it as his father’s voice! Mowgli looks to Santi.

“We will meet again, Santi,” Mowgli says and climbs out the skylight hole.

“Mowgli wait!” Santi calls out, but the other teenager is already gone. Santi gets to his feet and walks out.

“Father?! FATHER!” Santi calls out.

“SANTI!! DON’T MOVE!! WE’RE COMING!” Dev calls back as Santi steps out of the cave’s entrance. He sees a beautiful small flowing creek covered with purple flowers right in front of the cave.

Santi hears rustling nearby get louder and louder so he turns and that’s when his father breaks through the plant life, followed by the other volunteer hunters.

“Santi!” Dev exclaims, rushing forward, wrapping his son in a hug, despite Santi’s grunts of pain. While he is mostly healed and the claw marks have scabbed, Santi’s chest is still a bit sore and tender.

“Father-“ Santi pleads and the tone of his son’s voice causes Dev to back off. He looks and sees Santi’s bare chest is covered in a green paste that smeared onto his own clothes.

“Y-You’re hurt-“ Dev realizes.

“I’m ok Father-really,” Santi assures his father.

“Did you…kill the tiger?” Dev asks. Santi doesn’t answer at first. The fear of telling the truth causes Santi to look away.

“No…I’m sorry Father. Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi says.

“Do not be sorry my son. I’m just glad you’re alive,” Dev tells him.

“Khan…was dead when we found him,” Amir pipes up, motioning to the other hunters.

“Who did this?” Dev asks Santi, motioning to the green paste covering his bare chest.

“I was saved by a boy my age. He was the one that killed Shere Khan,” Santi explains.

“A boy? Who? You are the eldest male child of the village and the 2nd eldest is only 10,” Rohan asks.

“Santi can tell us later, but right now, we need to get you help,” Dev argues, letting his son use him for stability. Santi leans heavily on his father, not because he’s too weak, but because the boy missed his father. Sant was worried he’d never see his father again.

Rohan helps Dev with Santi while Amir and Ishan keep ready just in case anything happens. While his father and the others didn’t get a good look at the cave, Santi manages a glance behind himself.

Meanwhile, Mowgli manages to make it back to the Wolf Pack territory and back to the dens. Mowgli goes over the whole interaction with the human, including killing Shere Khan. Even remembering what the tiger looked like was unnerving for Mowgli so he doesn’t dwell on that particular moment.

He remembers seeing Santi on the ground, bloody and unconscious and Mowgli remembers feeling a need to protect. Honestly Mowgli still can’t really explain it, but he felt that way about any living creature in need. Akela told him once that he was special because of his selflessness. That is what makes a wolf, Akela had said.

“Mowgli-there you are,” the boy hears Bagheera’s silky voice. He looks and sees the panther up in a nearby tree.

“Bagheera…I…I was with the human-“ Mowgli tells the panther, not wanting to lie or keep things hidden. Bagheera nods.

“I figured,” he replies understandingly.

“He..wasn’t like some of the stories I’ve heard…and they’re not scary looking in the day,” Mowgli says and Bagheera nods.

“This particular human…” Mowgli trails off, stopping in his tracks. Bagheera stops and looks back at the boy. Noticing Mowgli isn’t making eye contact, Bagheera turns, focusing on him.

“What is it Mowgli?” Bagheera asks.

“You said I’m human, right Bagheera?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera nods.

“Yes,”

“Could there be other humans…like me?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera thinks on Mowgli’s question.

“Mowgli, you are uniquely you. You may be a human, but there are no humans like you,” Bagheera explains.

“But, if there was…do you think Ami would like him?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera’s eyes widen.

“Mowgli your mother is firm on the Laws of the Jungle. You deserve to know who you are so I will not mention your activities to your mother or anyone in the pack. But you cannot get caught,” Bagheera says. Mowgli nods.

“Thank you Bagheera,” Mowgli tells him, knowing Bagheera doesn’t have to keep his secrets. The panther nods.

“Of course,” he says before motioning with his head for the boy to follow.

“Come, it’s getting late,” Bagheera says and together, they walk back to the dens, where the Wolf Pack live.

Dev and the hunting party manage to hike all the way back and once they cross the bridge, others from the village hurry over to help.

“Messua, get the bandages,” Dev says and the young woman nods, hurrying off.

Dev takes Santi with Amir’s help and gets back to the small house tucked in the corner of the village. Dev sets Santi down on the bed gently and helps the boy lay back.

“Does it hurt son?” Dev asks.

“Sore…but it’s not too bad,” Santi says. Dev knows his son has a high tolerance for pain so for Santi to admit anything must be a lot for him. Dev nods.

“Ok, don’t worry son,” Dev tries comforting Santi. Santi nods and shuts his eyes. Messua comes in a few moments later holding a few different items.

“Thank you Messua,” Dev says as she gets to work.

“Of course Dev, he’ll be ok, your boy is strong,” Messua says as she starts wiping off the green paste on Santi’s chest.

“No-don’t-“ Santi tries, but Messua gently holds his hand down.

“I’m sorry I have to wipe your chest off,” she says and at the insistence of his father, Santi lets Messua work.

As Messua works, Dev’s able to see just how badly Santi got hurt and the boy can’t miss the worry plastered all over his father’s face.

“Father-it’s just a bit sore-I’m ok,” Santi says. Messua wraps Santi’s chest with bandage cloth.

“Sage..a great medicinal plant. I didn’t figure you two as herbalists,” Messua tells Santi and Dev.

“I’m not-“ Dev shakes his head.

“It was Mowgli, Father,” Santi says.

“Who is Mowgli?” Messua asks.

“He’s a boy my age. He lives in the Jungle and he was the one that helped me when Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi explains.

“Hm, well sounds like a smart kid,” Messua says.

Once Messua finishes with Santi, Dev gifts her a small basket of fruits and vegetables Dev recently harvested from his garden.

“Thank you Dev, but you really don’t have to-“ Messua tries, but Dev holds up a hand to stop her.

“I know, I want to,” Dev insists and Messua smiles before nodding.

“Thank you for getting rid of Shere Khan,” Messua says and Dev nods. The father and son duo head outside and meet up with the other volunteer hunters and Santi tells them everything that happened. Santi spends the next week or so resting and healing, but he can’t get that mysterious wild boy named Mowgli out of his head.

Back at the Wolf Pack dens, Mowgli and Bagheera head over towards Raksha and her den.

“Mowgli, where were you?” Raksha asks. Mowgli looks to Bagheera before looking at his mother.

“I was at Baloo’s,” Mowgli answers. While he isn’t exactly lying, he isn’t telling Raksha everything either.

While both boys think about their chance encounter, it isn’t until Santi has fully recovered, albeit with claw scars raked across his chest, that he goes to seek out Mowgli. While it was quite a trek to get there, Santi could remember what the cave looked like.

The two met up by chance and managed to stay in contact with each other, eventually becoming friends. The days turned to weeks, which turned into months. Mowgli could have never imagined himself friends with a human. Being leader has distracted Raksha enough that she nor anyone else in the Pack has figured out Mowgli sees a human rather regularly.

The boys had initially bonded over the loss of a parental figure, but they also learned they are rather different from each other. Mowgli would tell Santi stories about the Pack and his animal family while Santi would tell Mowgli about village life and what it’s like to be a human.

Bagheera and Baloo may have initially been skeptical, but now, after having seen how much happier Mowgli has been since meeting his human friend Santi, the pair of animals would much rather Mowgli break a Law than be miserable forever. Seeing Mowgli relate to a human but also choose to come back and live his life with his family has made both Baloo and Bagheera realize that Mowgli is exactly who he needs to be.

End.

[quotent-potables]

Even though he had said there were a few. There was only one that came to the forefront of his mind. She had been there for some time. It was always her. Other girls caught his interest almost every day at school. He couldn't help it. There were a lot of pretty girls, but there was only one that stayed with him.

A Chance Encounter, a Harry Potter fanfiction by Spectre4hire.

Read it on AO3

[sohannabarberaesque]

So a lion comes across some bears when--

The lion here: No less than Lippy the Lion, something of a happy-go-lucky type in the vein of Kiyoshi Atsumi's Tora-san character, yet is also part of the Peter Potamus Travelling SCUBA Par-tay and is also expected to "share the dive" with especially such in summer camp scenarios.

The bears in question: The Hair Bear Bunch. Need more be said?

Anyhow, on to our story, which finds the madcap ursine trio in their annual bear mating season road trip somewhere among the lakes of northern Minnesota via their Volkswagen Campervan, with Hair Bear, leader of such an intrepid crew finding the mating season something of a tension reliever, relating his experiences with a female who may have felt indifferent at first, but came to accept Hair Bear's Inner Need the evening previous over coffee and sweet rolls ... when, for some reason or another, a minivan driven by our leonine buddy pulls alongside the Hair Bears' Campervan "out of the blue" and Lippy, in his exuberance, strikes up some conversation.

"So, Lippy," Square Bear begins, "how exactly did you manage to stumble upon us in some backwater lake country?"

To which the ever-grateful Lippy explains, "Sheer luck! I myself, as a matter of fact, was about to head over to a weekend's assignment at a summer camp to demonstrate and teach diving basics to some underprivileged youth--"

"I take it, a fresh air sort of camp," Hair Bear responded.

"However did you guess?" was how Lippy the Lion parsed it. "But at any rate, though, I thought it interesting to come by and maybe join you in some diving that you may have in mind!"

"What more could you want from us," Hair Bear exclaimeth, "as if making love to the bears of these parts wasn't good enough a summer experience?"

"Yeah," added the little shaver known as Bubi Bear; "just sensing the feel of the clyde underwater, just wearing ourselves, just feeling the cooling cleansing effect!" Which had Lippy remarking just how lively Bubi could get with his remarks, and Hair Bear explaining such was Bubi's way of explaining things.

"Anyhow, my ursine buddies," Lippy the Lion remarked, "perhaps some diving in that lake could well be in order!"

"And I assume," Square Bear remarked, "wearing ourselves!"

"Which is pretty much that way with us," Hair Bear explained.

To which Lippy the Lion exclaimed, "And with me as well!" Thus reducing their bodies but to their natural selves, and getting the dive gear fitted, Lippy led the way unto the lake's mysteries and wonders through the shallows into a briefing about diving technique ... and once in its waters, remarkably clear and sparkling, you can just sense what a feeling it was among one of Minnesota's storied Ten Thousand (lakes, that is).

A sensation most sheer and fascinating to touch one's body upon the sandy lake bottom ... and just feel delighted in its own way, not even embarrassed at what could easily happen between the legs during the descent, or even on the lake bottom (which, as Lippy explained while back on land, "easily happens among divers who can't help but sense the sheer sensation of the dive experience washing upon them and their bodies!").

"Though I can add there," Hair Bear remarked, "that just sitting on a lake bottom of soft sand can't help but feel wonderful ... perhaps with a modest little meditation before surfacing!"

"Rather quaint way of putting it!" was Lippy's remark. Still, Bubi couldn't help but add his own proverbial quarter about Lippy's diving style being somewhat graceful seen from a certain angle, prompting Square Bear's forepaw placement over Bubi's mouth, as if sensing that Bubi's remarks risked going a little too far, followed naturally by Square's remarking "what was Bubi saying just now?"

At any rate, over lunch of cold cuts and cheese, Lippy had one more thing up his sleeve: His presenting Polynesian shark's tooth necklaces unto the Hair Bears, even placing them around their necks, as well as puka shell anklets, in a sort of initiation unto what could best be described as a confraternity promoting the diving experience by actually enjoying same. All informal and impromptu, mind you, but still ... you can just imagine how our ursine trio felt during the experience.

And especially the sort of experience of a happy-go-lucky lion leading a madcap trio of bears into some diving most fascinating and yet so pure....

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @xdiver71 @jellystone-enjoyer @joey-gatorman @archive-archives @princessgalaxy505 @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @warnerbros-blog1 @iheartgod175 @theweekenddigest @restroom @warnerbrosent-blog

[kerokeeces]

ENHYPEN SFW hyung line fanfic recs!

who am I? im just silent reader who enjoys fics and want to help others find some of my favorites! srry im hee + hoon biased so most are about them

short fic - 1-5k words long fic - 5k+

HYUNG LINE

the look of love by @won4kiss - (how they look at you when they’re blinded by their love) - short fic

low power mode by @sungbeams - (when you get overwhelmed while you're out together) - text msgs

just a bet by @all4yoi - (after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.) - short fic

HEESEUNG

sing me a song by @senascoop - (when you can't fall asleep and heeseung tries to help by singing you a song) - short fic

race to your heart by @coqhee - (lee heeseung who's always been a pro at racing takes on a change of pacing ; racing for your heart.) - long fic

uh oh im falling in love by @won4kiss - (you and heeseung have been rivals for as long as you could remember, constantly competing for the top spot in school—basically everything. living next door to each other only added to the fire, the tension between you, especially when heeseung’s cocky aura never seems to waver. but one single encounter shifts the entire dynamic, leading to confusing emotions arising, jealousy, and new surprising revelations. what happens when rivalry starts to feel like it’s growing into something more?) long fic

a stoner's guide to starbucks by @jayflrt - (in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.) - smau series

she knows her sour patch kids by @allforhee - (living under the protective eyes of your older brother, park sunghoon, he thinks he knows you the best. but litte does he know that heeseung knows you love your sour patch kids more than you love his usual swedish fish.) - short fic

win one win me by @jaylver - (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.) - long fic

from screens to scenes by @enreveriee - (you decide to give online dating a shot but have never met your boyfriend in person, nor do you even know what he looks like. when your friends pressure you into finally asking him out for a real-life date, things take a surprising turn. what you expected to be a simple meetup becomes an adventure filled with unexpected twists.) - long fic

taste of life by @mygnolia - (heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached.) - short fic

bring the heat by @kairoot - (y/n has always disliked heeseung, the arrogant rising star of the racing scene. she especially dislikes him when he beats her brother in the city’s street racing round and takes it upon herself to do a rematch and race him. but when she gets herself stuck in a predicament, her enemy is the only one who can save her. maybe there’s more to heeseung than just his big ego.) - short fic

bjoux by @okikeu - (The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.) - smau series

cliches are okay by @chogiwow - short fic

JAY

how you get the girl by @jaylver - (Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl.) - long fic

white corvette and lipstick by @okwonyo - (waiting for the cab with your boyfriend in the night.) - short fic

pictures enhypen send you of bf!jay by @ddksoo - fake texts

fast forward by @asahicore - (After yet another romantic disappointment in the form of one Jake Sim, you go to the well you’ve always believed to grant wishes and ask for your one and true love to appear. That night, you go to sleep in your bed but wake up in a strange house. When you head downstairs, you find a man washing the dishes and telling you your favorite meal is waiting on the table for you. You’ve spent hours glaring at the back of that head, you could recognize it anywhere—it belongs to none other than Park Jongseong, your high school sworn enemy… and future husband, or so it seems.) - long fic

JAKE

bed chem by @cupidhoons - (your friend sets you up with a cute aussie boy at her party) - short fic

texts with bestfriend!jake by @silquids - text msgs

found you by @whjluv - (jake is very well known and loved by everybody on campus. equally popular was his relationship with the captain of the volleyball team, haneul. even more popular, sadly, is his breakup after more than a year. the months following the event take a significant toll on jake, who becomes unrecognizable. his once sweet, friendly and pure nature is replaced by a constant gloomy and somber aura. what happens when this new version of jake sim unexpectedly clashes with a very straightforward and quite intimidating member of the school’s podcast?) - long fic

SUNGHOON

deep honey by @paarksunghoon - (the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.) - short fic

cafeteria confessions by @reinahwanggg - (everyone thinks you're dating your childhood best friend sunghoon. well, everyone including sunghoon because he confessed to you almost a year ago and you didn't exactly know it was a confession because of how casually he said it.) - short fic

sunghoon with a crush on you by @woniecore - smau

get well soon by @senascoop - (You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.) - long fic

love on air by @pshbites - (two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.) - smau series

the 24-hour dating challenge by @jaeyunverse - (being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.) - long fic

[judyvan]

Keep It Down (The Morning After) - Matt Sturniolo Fanfic

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The Morning After

Summary: You desperately want Matt, but his brothers are in the house. Will you be able to contain yourself to avoid the awkwardness?

Warnings: MDNI/ suggestive sexual content/ mattxfem!reader/ bf!matt/ daddy kink/ humiliation/ use of "you"

A/N: This is my first fanfic. Interactions are appreciated. There are multiple parts to this story, this is the last one. Please don't steal my shit. Thanks!💋

To read the first part (Movie Night) click here.

To read the second part click here.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When your eyes peel open the next morning, your head instantly replays the sexual encounter you and Matt had. Just remembering the way that you felt, sends a jolt down your body. Nick and Chris couldn’t find something else to do soon enough. You roll over to find Matt still asleep. You stare at him and admire his beauty for a few minutes. How could someone be this sexy when they aren’t even awake? You gently push the hair off of his forehead and plant a gentle kiss where his hair was once laying. The warmth of your lips makes Matt’s eyes flutter open.

“I’m going to go make breakfast,” you whisper, Matt struggling to keep his eyes open. You play with his hair. The graze of your fingernails against his scalp send tingles down his spine, lulling him to sleep.

“Mhm,” he barely lets out before dozing back off.

You creep out of bed in search for your panties. You are gently moving around the room, partly to avoid waking Nick and Chris, but also because you can barely walk. Nick and Chris typically wake up after you and Matt, but, with all of last night's ruckus, you don't want to take any chances. After putting on your underwear, you head to Matt’s dresser and grab a pair of his boxers out of a drawer to wear as shorts. You leave the room and make your way to the kitchen, every step quiet and planned out, avoiding all of the creaky floorboards.

You enter the kitchen and walk over to the fridge. Upon opening the doors, you don’t find much to work with. Typical. After rounding up some things, you make your way to the stove. You begin to make some bacon and scrambled eggs. Every sizzle and pop make you jump, on edge about having to come face to face with your boyfriend’s brothers. When the bacon and eggs are done, you put them on a plate and start to mix the pancake batter. As you pour some circles on the pan, you hear someone enter the kitchen. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Unexpectedly, you see a tattooed arm wrap around your waist. Your hand reaches up and comes into contact with the stubble on the side of Matt’s face. He pulls you into a tight hug from behind.

“Goodmorning,” he says groggily, kissing you on the top of your head. His morning voice makes your stomach lurch, obviously eager to have him back inside of you.

“Goodmorning,” you reply. Your voice is still slightly hoarse from hollering last night. Matt chuckles at your inability to talk completely normally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Matt asks as you flip a few pancakes. His big hands find your thighs and slide up the boxer shorts that you’re wearing. He nudges your head to the side and passionately kisses your neck, hooking his fingers under your panties. He clearly isn’t over last night either. Your knees almost buckle at the feel of him touching you.

The sound of Nick’s door opening instantly pulls the two of you apart. Matt grabs a piece of bacon and seductively puts it in his mouth walking towards cabinets.

“Where are you going,” you say, slightly panicked. You gesture to Matt with your eyes to not leave you alone.

“To set the table,” he says with a cocky shrug and smug look on his face. He grabs a few plates and some silverware.

“Umm… we don’t do that,” you say back.

“Remember, it was your idea,” Matt says, winking at you as he walks towards the dining room. As Matt escapes, Nick and Chris enter the kitchen.

“Goodmorning,” they say together, making their presence known.

“Goodmorning,” you say back, trying to keep composed. You flip some more pancakes.

“How did you sleep?” Chris asks, walking towards the dining room.

“I slept good. How about you?” you reply, you pull the last few pancakes off of the pan, place them on their own plate, and turn off the stove.

“I slept awesome!” Chris says, turning to give you 2 thumbs up before running off to join Matt. Nick stays back to help you carry the food into the dining room. The two of you walk in, set the plates down, and take your seats.

“So…did you guys finish that movie last night?” Nick asks, starting up a conversation.

“We watched like half of it,” you say, spooning some eggs onto your plate.

“Was it good? Like really, really, really good?” Nick asks, putting some bacon in his mouth. Chris chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah,” Matt says nonchalantly.

“Yeah I thought it would be. You know, I heard it was really good. That’s why I agreed to watching it last night,” Nick says back. He added extra emphasis to the word 'heard'. Chris smirks, picking up a pancake with his fork.

“Chris, could you pass me the bacon please,” Matt says, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Yes Matt! I will,” Chris says, sliding the plate to him. Nick and Chris make eye contact and laugh slightly. At this point, you really can’t tell if they know what happened between you and Matt. They were acting a little weird, but they almost always acted odd. Matt was the only one in a relationship and they loved to pick at the two of you for it.

“Thanks,” Matt says, giving Chris an odd look.“Can you hand me the pancakes too?”

“Oh Matt! Yes! I would love to,” he replies, earning a cackle from Nick. He gives Matt the pancakes and everyone resumes eating. Periodically, you catch Nick and Chris giving each other weird glances. Every time they make eye-contact, you can see them trying to hold back a laugh. Nick begins to giggle under his breath, shaking his head. Chris wipes the smile off of his own face and stands from the table.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” he says, trying to gain composure.

“Could you get something for us too,” Matt says sassily, gesturing to everyone else at the table.

Chris momentarily stops in his tracks.

“Yes Daddy!” Chris moans at the top of his lungs, tilting his head back and screaming into the air.

That’s when it all clicks. This motherfucker is mocking you. Your face instantly turns red as your eyes dart to Matt’s, looking for comfort. Matt can tell that you want out of this situation. Nick erupts with laughter as Chris continues to walk towards the kitchen, never looking back. Matt’s eyes shuffle back and forth, from Nick to Chris.

“Alright. I think we’re going to take this breakfast to bed,” Matt states matter of factly. He grabs your plates and begins to head to his room with you right on his heels. Nick and Chris’s laughter fill the room, getting quieter as you move further away.

"Thanks for the breakfast," you hear Chris chuckle out.

Upon entering his room, Matt sits your plates down on the dresser. He grabs the remote, selects the first movie he can find, and turns the volume all the way up. He locks the door and then sets his attention completely on you. He lifts you into the air and your legs automatically wrap around his torso. The two of you begin to kiss intimately. Matt gently lays you on his bed and removes his shirt, hovering above you.

“What about our food?” you question, out of breath.

“It can wait,” he says, climbing on top of you. He begins to kiss your neck erotically, sending shocks through your body. “I said I was going to have my breakfast in bed.”

[outlawinthisworld1117]

And they were roommates…

☆ pairing: Mingi x (fem)reader

☆ genre: Friends to Lovers. Fluff. A sprinkle of angst. Slow burn? I guess…

☆ summary: KQ was holding the raffle of a lifetime - the opportunity to live with Ateez for an entire year. As someone who isn't particularly a K-pop fan, you were intrigued by the opportunity to travel with free housing. You didn’t think that you would actually end up winning… nor that you’d end up getting close to a certain member.

☆ warnings: toxic bf (not Mingi), some cursing, nsfw? suggestive material, mentions of cheating (again, not Mingi), some poorly written angst, there could be more but I don’t think so??

☆ word count: 14.5k (I went a bit insane for my first fic. I could probably cut it down, but I’m not gonna :P)

☆ authors note: This is heavily based on a scenario I had in my notes app for months. Mingi is my Ult! and I’m a hopeless romantic, which was a huge inspiration for this story. This work is fiction and purely self-indulgent (really as all fanfics should be), it doesn’t reflect any of the members personally. Also, I know that Mingi isn’t afraid of heights and actually enjoys rollercoasters, but for the sake of my 20th Century Girl reference… I had to make him the ultimate scaredy cat. Also, Yn is supposed to be the nickname version of Y/N… Enjoy!

Eight pairs of eyes are locked onto you as you awkwardly smiled back at them, waving ever so slightly. Eight of the most stunning men you’ve ever encountered stood before you, and one of them had particularly captivated your attention. His intense gaze, defined nose, and grown-out bleached hair pulled you in, igniting a spark of something new within you. His stare burned into your very soul, making you break your gaze and scream internally, overwhelmed by self-consciousness, Jesus H. Christ… how did I end up here???

—Two Weeks Prior—

(translator mode on :3, Hinata is Japanese)

Hinata: -Yn, look at this-

You catch sight of the notification glowing on your phone, and curiously you click the link your friend sent you.

-Win a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live with ATEEZ for an ENTIRE YEAR!!! Simply sign up through email, and you could be our lucky winner! If you’re chosen, you’ll receive free housing, travel expenses covered, an incredible job working alongside ATEEZ, and the opportunity to become friends with the group!-

You scoff, wondering, What is this? It seems like a scam. Your phone pings once more, a new message from your friend lighting up the screen.

Hinata: -I thought it was fake at first, but look!!! The raffle is posted on the official Instagram!! *screenshotted post*-

You: -Hina…you are the K-pop fan, what are you telling me for?-

Hinata: -You have been nonstop talking about wanting to travel somewhere you have never been before. Why not take the chance? Just sign up for the raffle. What harm could it do?-

You: -I don’t know, but it’s not very likely I’ll win anyway.-

Hinata: -So? It’s not likely you’ll get struck by lightning either, but we both know that it is still possible. Just do it!-

You: -Fine. Though you have to promise me that you won’t be mad at me if I win. I know how much you love those guys.-

Hinata: -Trust me, I will not be mad. I applied and if I win I’m giving it to you. I love them, but I will not be able to function if I am around them. Ironically, my biggest fear is meeting Ateez lol :3-

-Plus, you know how to speak Korean pretty well because of school, whereas I can hardly speak the only language I do know…</3-

Smiling at your friend’s text, you opened up the website for the raffle on your phone and signed up, thinking with a hint of sarcasm, I’m probably more likely to get struck by lightning… may the odds forever be in my favor, right? Little did you know that just a week later, you’d receive an ear-piercing call from Hinata, her voice bursting with excitement as she screamed that you won the raffle.

The next week was a complete blur for you. Phone calls with KQ executives, packing bags, and getting on a plane bound for Seoul, South Korea. Your head felt so strange as if you were wearing a large fishbowl; everything you heard echoed, yet at the same time was also muffled. Your knuckles were nearly white from the grip you had on your carry-on’s handle. The rhythmic pounding in your chest was so fast you feared your heart might leap out. You sat down in your cozy window seat and took deep, calming breaths. You reminded yourself that change was a gift, and this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Hinata was beyond excited for you, so why shouldn’t you feel the same for yourself? Finally, a chance to embark on your long-held dream of traveling abroad, and luckily for you, you already had a very solid grasp on the language… it’s almost like it was fate. You shook your head, Fate? Please, since when do you believe in such silly things. You closed your eyes as the plane took off, willing yourself to sleep for the duration of the flight.

—Present Day/End of Spring—

The eight men in front of you began to speak, starting from left to right, introducing themselves one at a time. The eldest, had long, dark hair framing his face, a comforting smile, and eyes full of curiosity. His name, Park Seonghwa. The way he carried himself instilled an overwhelming sense of safety within you, and you just felt in your bones you would get along well. 

The next man in line was much shorter. Actually, out of all of them you noted, he was the shortest, only taller than you by an inch. His exterior had a look of calm composure, but you could sense chaos within when you made eye contact with him— Kim Hongjoong, he was the Captain of the ship. Despite the intense energy he gave off though, you didn’t find his chaotic nature intimidating. Instead, you could tell that you were both quite similar but weren’t sure whether or not that was a good thing. 

Moving on to the man with fluffy brown hair that towered above the rest, his smile was radiant and slightly crooked, which you found very endearing. He waved his large hand at you as he said his name, Jeong Yunho. He had a familiar aura, like a home away from home, so you hoped you would be like family. 

Shifting over to the shy man in line, who gave off the energy of a Doberman, but looked like a Maltese. He politely introduced himself— Kang Yeosang. His smile was so warm, it made all your anxieties melt away and suddenly you knew that this raffle was a good change for you. He looked over to the man standing next to him and your gaze followed to the sturdy mountain with dimples. His broad chest and confident posture made him seem scary, but as soon as he spoke his true nature was revealed as the very sweet, Choi San. His upbeat and comic personality had you feeling excited to be his friend. As if a magnet was pulling you towards him, you looked over to the next man in line and felt your face flush a bit.

Song Mingi was his name. His face had such a look of careful observation, disguised as cold indifference. If you hadn’t known any better you would have felt hurt by the look on his face, but something pulled at your heart and you could just feel that he was the most goofy, caring, and kind soul you would ever meet. Fate? I don’t believe in such things… So you brushed off his current expression and begrudgingly moved on to the others in the line. 

Next was Jung Wooyoung. He seemed like the polar opposite of Hongjoong, presenting a chaotic exterior, concealing a polite and calm soul that shone brightly through the cracks. You sensed he might be a bit of a handful and would take some adjusting to, but deep down, you could also feel that, once you got to know him, he would prove to be one of the most treasured friends to have by your side. You smiled warmly at him before shifting your gaze to the last, but certainly not the least, man in the group. The moment your eyes fell upon him, memories of the big teddy bear in your room back home flooded your mind. He possessed the most fascinating eyes, somehow managing to be both intensely intimidating and incredibly comforting all at once.

With the final introduction behind you, you realized it was now your turn to speak. You swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, striving to recall all the Korean language lessons you had diligently attended in college.

(translator mode on :3)

“Hello, I’m Y/N and I’m very excited and grateful for the opportunity to live here with you guys. It is so nice to meet you all and I can already feel like we will get along well. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, and I hope that this coming year will be one full of great memories!” You bowed your head quickly and straightened out with a nervous, but excited, smile. The group gazed at you with surprise painted on their faces, though Mingi couldn't help but let a sly smirk dance at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes sparkled with amusement. With all formal introductions fully out of the way, the remaining KQ staff slowly departed from the house, leaving just you and the boys in the living room; the atmosphere was thick with newcomer jitters.

“Aigo! Your Korean is quite good,” Hongjoong praised. He motioned toward the couch for you to sit while the other guys situated themselves in various sitting places around the room. You took note of where Mingi chose to sit, which was on the floor, next to your spot on the couch. Leaning back and propping himself up with his arms, he just focused on you. You shifted a bit in your spot and tried to pry your eyes away from him and onto Hongjoong. 

Dismissively you waved your hands, “Ah, it’s not really. I only took a few years of classes during university, but I haven’t gotten to use it much since then, so I am a bit rusty.”

“Nonsense! We understood you perfectly,” Seonghwa smiled.

“Well, either way, I get to practice the language now and I’m very excited to see how much I improve over the next several months,” You buzzed.

“Just talk to Wooyoung, you’ll get plenty of practice in,” San chuckled, casting a playful glance at his best friend.

“Hardy har, I don’t talk that much,” Wooyoung responded, his eyes sending dull daggers toward San.

“Wellll… you kind of do. But we all still love you!” Yeosang chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, Yeo,” Jongho scoffed. Wooyoung lightly pushed the bear of a man, and Jongho pushed back a bit harder. Wooyoung wobbled on his chair trying not to fall over as he regained his balance. You giggled at the comfortable banter amongst the boys.

You looked over at Mingi to see his reaction, but you found that he had been looking at you the whole time. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes bore into you, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“So who’s your bias?” He questioned. The other men moved their attention from Wooyoung and Jongho, onto Mingi, and then to you.

“My what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Bias? You know, which one of us is your favorite?” He also furrowed his brows, wondering what was with the confusion.

“Who’s my favorite…?” You paused, absorbing the strange requested information from the tall man.

“Yeah… Typically Atiny’s have a favorite member,” He grinned at you, thinking that you were playing a game. Changing his sitting position he rubbed his nose and sniffed, moving to cross his arms smugly adding, “I’m kind of a crowd favorite.” His tongue poked at his cheek mischievously. The others just looked at him with blank stares and shook their heads slightly.

“Are you now?” You teased, looking him up and down. You didn’t doubt for a second that what he said was the truth, he was gorgeous and charismatic, but you and the other guys wouldn’t give him the satisfaction by agreeing with him.

“I’m sure I’ll be your favorite in no time,” He smirked at you and winked. You forced the blush creeping up on your face to go away.

“Well, I’m not really one to play favorites, Mingi,” You teased, feeling comfortable enough with him already to do so, “Plus I don’t know you guys at all, so even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to answer you right now,” You lightly laughed, crossing your arms, and shaking your head at the bleach blond man.

Your response had all eight of them looking at you strangely, and you wondered what you said that made them react that way. Yunho decided to speak for the group, “You don’t… know us?”

Oh… right, they were probably expecting a fan to live with them, you thought before answering, “Not really… I mean I know who you guys are. I don’t live under a rock, my best friend is a huge fan of ATEEZ. Personally, though, I don’t really listen to K-pop much, so aside from what my friend tells me… I know almost nothing. I didn’t even know your names until you guys said them.”

They all raised their eyebrows as far as they could go, mouths nearly agape. It took a second for them to process what they just heard. Mingi however was just curiously eyeing you, a grin still plastered on his face, as he breathily laughed.

“How ironic that out of the hundreds of thousands of Atiny’s that entered the raffle, the person who won isn’t even a fan of ours,” Wooyoung chuckled, which created a chain reaction amongst the boys, who all started laughing.

Thankfully, they didn’t appear to be upset by your lack of fandom, and there was something about Mingi’s reaction that had you thinking he was actually a bit relieved. You couldn’t help but nervously laugh along with them for a moment, as the sheer absurdity of the whole situation finally hit you, “I guess it’s probably a bit disappointing that I don’t know you guys, huh?”

As the boys calmed down, Mingi took the opportunity to answer, “Disappointing? I wouldn’t say that at all. I don’t know about the other guys, but personally, I much prefer that it turned out like this.” He looked at you with wonder, making you feel like the only person in the room. His eyes are so pretty…you snapped out of it when Hongjoong spoke, “I’m curious though, if you aren’t a fan of us, then why did you apply to the raffle?”

“I wanted to travel to someplace new, and it seemed like a really interesting opportunity. A place to live and a job included? It’s not exactly something I would want to pass up. My friend knows me well I guess, which is why she encouraged me to apply,” You stated simply and the boys nodded in approval at your answer.

“That’s a good friend you have,” San approved.

“Yeah, Hinata, she’s great. Actually, she lives in Japan, so this is the closest I’ve ever been to her, which is kind of nice,” You smiled at the realization, “Maybe I’ll take the chance to visit her next year before I have to go.”

The eight men around you had only known you for a short amount of time, but the mention of you leaving them already had them feeling pangs of sadness in their chests. Mingi just looked at you with a straight face, but his eyes— oh his eyes… he’s like a puppy— tell you everything he was feeling.

“So you speak English, Korean, and Japanese… it’s almost like you’re an idol,” Hongjoong pointed out, trying to shift the mood of his group, laughing weakly at his own joke.

“Ha! I’d make a pretty shabby idol,” You chuckled, a shiver running down your spine at the idea of performing, “I don’t do well when it comes to stages or crowds. If only I didn’t have stage fright though because I do like singing and dancing, and I’m not too bad at rapping either…”

“Plus you’re gorgeous,” Wooyoung added, making you feel bashful.

“Looks like we’ve got an ace in the group,” Mingi smirked in the most sinful way as he continued to stare at you. God, those lips of his…

Hongjoong nearly shouted, preventing your mind from going somewhere it shouldn’t, “Oh! Before I forget, we should go over the rules that have been put in place for the coming year.” He got up and grabbed a piece of paper on the kitchen counter before returning to his spot on the couch.

“Rules? Don’t we have enough already because of Hwa?” Mingi sighed. Seonghwa gave him a poisonous side glare, which made Mingi airily laugh.

“There’s only a couple of them. The managers thought it would be a good idea to have them,” Hongjoong said to prevent any arguments.

“So what are they?” You asked, wondering what could be so important that rules had to be put in place.

Hongjoong cleared his throat before he read off the page, “First rule: no unapproved content of the group or Y/N, whether it be pictures or videos, can be posted online.”

“I don’t even use social media, so that’s the easiest rule I’ve ever had to follow,” You chirped.

“Not even TikTok?!” Wooyoung blurted, shocked at what you admitted.

“Especially not that one,” You shook your head, thinking about the days you wasted away on that app in the past. Sure, you had an Instagram account to keep up with Hinata and your friends from back home, but that was it. You never posted on there anyway.

“Glad I won’t have to worry about you then, Y/N. The rule applies to all of us though… so please-” Hongjoong paused to look sternly at San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung, “-just don’t post anything with her okay? There will be a group picture uploaded to ateez_official to show our winner and that’ll be it for now.”

The three boys just gave sheepish grins and looked at the ground. You giggled, loving more and more the dynamic they all had with each other.

“Okay, final rule, and the managers have it in bold so I assume it’s the most important,” Hongjoong read it inaudibly to himself first, eyes going wide, he coughed a bit before sharing it with the room, “uh- um… it just says You aren’t allowed to date her, so don’t even think about it…”

If you were drinking something you would’ve spit it out. You choked on nothing and started laughing, “Seems like another easy rule… as if that would happen.”

Each of the boys had different reactions though. Hongjoong and Seonghwa kept serious faces, thinking that your response was valid but they knew that the rule was actually very necessary. San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang giggled a bit at it and your subsequent reaction, but they too understood how essential the rule was. Yunho and Jongho just looked at Mingi because they already knew that rule would be needed. Mingi looked like a kicked puppy, and your reaction made him feel even worse.

“Ha yeah… easy rule,” Jongho doubted, feeling that having the rule in place might end up causing more trouble than not having it, “Y/N, you will be living with eight guys around the same age as you. It’s more likely than you think…”

You calm down from your laughter, realizing that you were the only one not taking it seriously, “Oh… um— it’s not that I think it’s unlikely. It’s just that it won’t be a problem. Trust me.”

“The managers didn’t seem to think so,” Seonghwa frowned, giving you a worried look.

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. Since we will all be living together and spending lots of time around you, one of us may end up developing feelings for you,” Yunho clarified, already glaring at Mingi. You suddenly felt very hot in your seat as eight pairs of eyes stared at you once again.

“Oh…” You addressed calmly, “Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news to whoever that could be, but I’m already in a relationship. So when I said to trust me, that it wouldn’t be a problem, I meant it.”

That’s right, you already have a boyfriend, Yn!! Sure… we’ve technically only been dating for a month and it’s not like we love each other. I was going to end things with him before leaving… I mean for crying out loud your love language is quality time! But I do like him though…and he wanted to try long-distance, sooo why not give it a chance. Right???, You internally screamed, kicking yourself ever since you arrived. You were a loyal person above all else and cheating was something you would never ever do. So they really did have nothing to worry about.

The group of boys had a look of relief on their faces, especially Hongjoong, who was glad that there was a solid reason for the rule to be followed. Mingi, however, had a blank expression on his face, trying his best to hide that he felt like he’d been shot by your words.

“Fantastic…” Hongjoong started, “… well then… shall we show you to your room?”

—Beginning of Summer—

The first month of living with them was truly an experience. Hongjoong and San had the best English, so you turned to them whenever the language felt overwhelming, though before you knew it, you were chatting comfortably with each of them. It felt wonderful to form such genuine friendships with them all. Hongjoong loved to share clothes and always showered you with compliments about your unique style. Ever since he discovered your birthday was the day before his, he affectionately started calling you “twin.” When Seonghwa caught you playing Animal Crossing on your Switch, he insisted you add him as a friend, and now you both trade items and play events together. 

Typically, when you hung out with San and Wooyoung, you found yourself either acting as a moderator or third wheel, but you didn’t mind one bit because they were always so sweet and made you laugh wholeheartedly; And whenever you craved some peace, you’d seek out Yeosang. His calm demeanor always put you at ease, and when he finally opened up, you discovered his hidden sense of humor, leading to a treasure trove of inside jokes between the two of you about the others. 

On the days when you deeply missed your family, spending time with Yunho was a comforting relief. He reminded you so much of your brother and always welcomed you to join him in video games, making everything feel just a little bit more like home. Jongho was happy to have you around since you were the youngest person in the house; only by a year, but to him it meant he could say, “I’m not the maknae, Yn is.”

You once thought that living with a bunch of boys would be a challenge, and while there were moments that tested your patience, they became the most incredible roommates you could have ever hoped for. Thanks to Seonghwa, the house always sparkled with cleanliness, and you never found yourself confronted by those gross odors typical of boys back in the States. To your relief, they weren’t overly rowdy either, which was essential since you cherished the peace and quiet. They would only unleash their loudness on game nights, revealing their fiercely competitive spirits. 

Playing games with them was a unique experience; there were times when you knew winning was a distant dream, and others when you felt a glimmer of hope. As you got to understand each of them better, devising strategies became easier. Jongho shared that same competitive fire, and when the two of you teamed up, you were a force to be reckoned with. However, it wasn’t long before the others grew a bit weary of your winning streak, and soon enough, everyone was reassigned to new game night partners. You pulled his name out of the bowl, which is how you ended up with Mingi. When the boys found out that your MBTI was INTP they called you and him the “two Ts in a pod”, thankfully though it didn’t catch on.

After the first week, your initial infatuation with Mingi wore off. So now you were able to enjoy having him as a friend. He was always around you when he could be. Watching movies with you in the living room, helping out in the kitchen as you made food, sitting on your bed when you folded your laundry, playing video games with you and Yunho, teaching you choreography at the studio, walking around with you whenever you decided to get some fresh air, doing his lives with you in the room— behind the screen though, as to not break the first rule, whatever you were doing he was there with you. You liked having him around; and now that it’d been a month of living with him, you considered him to be your best friend, and you were his— well… except when Yunho was around. He would get pouty and Mingi would have to reassure him, “She’s my best girl friend, Yun. You are my soulmate.”

“You mean it?” Yunho would sulk until Mingi would hug him.

“Soulmates since 9th grade,” Mingi reassured him, putting their foreheads together to do their little spin, giving you a wink as he faced you.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had been doing pretty well too. He was putting in a lot of effort to keep in touch with you, which was not something you were expecting but still appreciated. He would call you several times a week when the time difference allowed for it. You noticed every time you picked up his call Mingi would give you a look before he left the room. It was always the same look, and you could never tell what it meant because he somehow looked sad, annoyed, and unbothered all at the same time. Those brown puppy eyes of his made you feel uneasy as he closed the door behind him. It feels like guilt…why? Your calls with him were usually short, and afterward, you would go find Mingi and sit in a comfortable silence until one of you spoke. It was a strange routine you had and you still hadn’t quite figured out why you two had it in the first place.

“How’s the boyfriend?” Mingi asked, breaking you out of your head before you could go down a thought spiral. He’d never asked that question before.

“He’s good, about to go to sleep…” You looked into his eyes searching for any clues to fulfill your curiosity. You kept eye contact for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. His boba eyes searched yours, secretly hoping you could hear his internal struggle; wanting you to understand how he felt while also hoping you’d never find out. He looked away and put on a sly smile.

“Good, I get you to myself then,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, glad to have your familiar banter back.

“You’ve always got me to yourself,” You shook your head, “I hardly get any time with him so it’s nice to have the phone calls.”

He just nodded and snarkily protested, “Yeah but you love me, not him.”

“I…” unsure of how to react to that you looked at the floor and thought, I should be offended that he said that, but I’m not. Your face actually felt kind of hot because of his words and you took a second to brush the feeling off before responding, “Of course I love you, Min. It’s different with him though. I may not be in love with him, but I really do care for him.”

He turned and smiled at you, reaching out to ruffle your hair up. You playfully swatted his arm away and smoothed your hair back down. He just sighed, “He better know how lucky he is to have you then.”

Yawning, he stretched and rested his hands atop his head, which lifted his shirt up a bit exposing a small area of his naval. It caught your eye and you found yourself staring, your face felt hot again. He looked over at you and smirked, “You hungry?”

“Wha—h-huh?” You looked away quickly, meeting his gaze as he lowered his hands back down, a small tint of blush was visible on your face.

“I’m hungry. Do you want to come eat with me?” He rephrased, giving you a knowing look.

“Sure,” you smiled sheepishly, trying to will away the butterflies you were feeling.

—Middle of Summer—

Your job certainly kept you busy, and you were feeling the rush of it all. It had been a few weeks since you started; KQ had graciously allowed you to settle into the house before handing it over to you.

“What’s your dream job?” Hongjoong queried. You thought about it for a moment. Having a job was never something you dreamed of, but you liked having something to keep you occupied, and of course, having money was always nice. Going to college meant you got to be independent for a while, so you did it for the sake of the experience. You majored in art and design since it had always been a passion of yours, but after graduating you weren’t too sure that you wanted to make it a career. It was always more of a hobby anyway.

“Hmmm, I guess I don’t have one,” Your face looked contemplative, but not sad. You were okay with this aspect of yourself, “My dream has always been to travel, so maybe if my job lets me do that then I’d be happy.”

Hongjoong nodded, thinking over your response and then smiled, “Lucky for you then that your job with us will have plenty of that.”

You perked up, “My job?” That’s right, that was part of the raffle. I almost forgot, “What will I be doing?”

After weeks of traveling to multiple places alongside them on tour, you were finally back home, even if just for a little while. That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in the middle of the empty studio late at night, staring at your reflection in the large mirror. Ateez’s newest assistant manager… has a nice ring to it I guess. You’re basically a glorified nanny— picking up food for the boys while they were practicing, running errands, and ensuring they didn’t overwork themselves. But, honestly, you didn’t mind at all; you had already been doing these things for them before anyway. It just meant you got to spend all day with them and get paid for it, which made you happy. The work wasn’t hard, and the salary was generous— far more than you ever earned at any of your jobs in the US. As you laid down on the floor and gazed up at the ceiling, you reflected on the long day you had. Watching the boys pour their hearts into perfecting their art deepened your admiration for them tenfold. You stretched out on the floor and yawned. I probably should head back to the house, I’m sure they’re all wondering where I’ve been. As you sat back up you heard a light knock at the open door. Mingi walked in and sat next to you, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You good?” He smiled warmly, giving you a much-needed energy boost. You smiled back at him and nodded, looking at his eyes— those eyes, gosh I never get tired of looking at them, full of so much emotion. He always looked at you with such care and it made your stomach flutter.

“Aigo, what time is it?” You opened your phone to check and noticed a missed call from your boyfriend, “Shit…”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised, “Where’d you learn to talk like—” He stopped as he saw the notification, taking a sharp inhale, and furrowing his eyebrows. You tried calling him back but it just went to voicemail.

“Shit. He’s probably upset that I didn’t pick up,” You put your phone down and flopped back onto the floor, looking at the ceiling once again.

Mingi had never seen you upset like this before and he hated it. Hated that he was the cause of it. He laid down next to you, your arms brushed up against each other, and he looked over at you, “Maybe he’s just asleep… I’m sure he’s not mad about one missed phone call.”

You could feel your eyes getting misty and you tried to blink away tears before they could form, “It’s not just one missed phone call. He’s been a lot busier lately and with my new job, our schedules just don’t line up anymore… I— I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. I just don’t know what I’m doing with him anymore, Min. I’ve been with him for over three months… I thought by now that my feelings for him would have grown stronger, but they haven’t. Maybe I should’ve ended things with him like I had planned before coming here…”

Mingi thought hearing you say something like that would’ve made him feel ecstatic but it didn’t. He looked over at you and saw a single tear break free, rolling down your cheek. He thumbed it away and grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on it. You covered your eyes with your other arm trying to hide as you started to softly cry. Mingi could feel tears threatening to bubble up to his eyes, but he forced them away trying to focus on consoling you. He continued to rub circles on your hand, slowly as you calmed down until the tears stopped. Your face felt hot and your eyes puffy. Using his free hand, Mingi slowly caressed the tear stains on your face. It made you understand just how much he cared for you, whether it be as a friend or as more, you didn’t care. What you truly cared about was the realization that you had devoted more time and affection to him, your best friend, than to your own boyfriend— you felt immensely guilty like you had been emotionally cheating. You know what you have to do, Yn. You turned to look at Mingi, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his gaze offering you comfort.

“Thank you,” You whispered to him.

“For what?” He whispered back.

“For always making me feel better, for always being here,” You comfortably sighed.

“I’ll always be there for you, Yn. Always,” A stray tear started to roll down his cheek and you wiped it away, carefully caressing his face with your thumb. He closed his eyes and melted into your touch. You waited a bit to enjoy the moment before you spoke.

“I have to break up with him… don’t I?” You whispered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear you. His eyes opened when your words registered with him, making his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat before answering, “Is that what your heart is telling you?”

You thought about it and nodded slowly. Your heart wasn’t telling you he was the one, and maybe you always knew it would end up this way. You knew with full certainty though that you’d be fine, as long as you had Mingi by your side.

It took a few days, but you were finally able to call him. You expected that he wouldn’t take the news well, but what you didn’t expect was him yelling that you didn’t even try, nor did you ever care for him. The phone call ended with your face once again tear-stained, shocked at his reaction, left wondering if you really knew who he was in the first place. 

As you opened the door to your room, Mingi was waiting, leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and his face looked angry, you assumed that he could hear your boyfriend— no, ex-boyfriend— yelling at you. You were tired and didn’t want to deal with trying to talk him down, but as soon as he saw your face, his angry expression dropped, and he pulled you into a deep hug. His chin rested on your head, hot tears finding their way to the corners of his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, his warm embrace being everything you needed in that moment. The other boys had heard the yelling too and were huddled at the end of the hall, feeling a range of emotions, but most of all aching that they couldn’t do anything to help you right now. They each went back to their rooms, letting Mingi do what he did best. Love. 

After what seemed like hours, he graciously guided you to your room, helped you prepare for bed, and laid down beside you. That night, you found solace in his embrace, holding onto him tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks until you finally drifted off to sleep, comforted by his tender strokes through your hair.

—Last Day of Summer—

It’d been four months since you moved in and three short weeks since the breakup. The morning after, you had woken up to find yourself in bed alone, assuming that Mingi must have gone to his room quietly after you had drifted off to sleep. The events of the night before had been intense, you couldn't shake the memory of how furious he was. Though, strangely enough, you didn’t feel guilty like you'd expected. Instead, an overwhelming wave of relief washed over you. You hadn’t fully grasped the mental toll that relationship was taking on you, and now that you were free from him, you could finally see just how toxic he truly was. You felt silly for not seeing it before. 

So now that it’d been a few weeks, you were getting ready for work and found yourself feeling the happiest you’d ever been—enjoying single life and the moments spent with your eight amazing roommates. Feeling especially grateful for your best friend and the depth of his care for you. You thought back to when he helped you get ready for bed, even when all you wanted was to curl into a ball and sob until you lost consciousness. He chose your favorite pajamas, turned away while you changed, and gently helped you through your skincare routine. He even grabbed his toothbrush from his bathroom so you could brush your teeth together. Then, when it was time to sleep, he laid down beside you, ensuring you fell asleep with a sense of peace. 

Mingi was truly a blessing in your life, and your love for him ran deep. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about how his personality did a one-eighty from when you first met him to now; you laughed as you remembered the little crush you used to have on him. Used to? You stopped laughing, eyes shooting wide at your intrusive thought. You shook your head trying to clear it away like you were an etch-a-sketch, Yes… used to. I don’t anymore. I love him, but I’m not in love with him. Deciding to move past it, you finished getting ready and headed to work with the guys.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Today was a rare day, everyone had a free afternoon in their schedules and the boys had decided it would be fun to do something together.

“How about karaoke?” San suggested. Everyone looked at him with blank expressions and side eyes, deflating him a bit.

“Really? We just got back from the studio, no more singing today,” Yunho groaned, “How about an amusement park?”

Yunho’s suggestion made San perk back up, liking that idea much more than his own. The other guys and you agreed too, and you felt a rush of anticipation—an amusement park sounded like a blast, and luckily there was one not too far away. Memories flooded back; could it really have been so long since your last visit to a theme park? Maybe Disney World when I was ten? The thought sent a thrill through you, especially at the idea of the roller coasters, knowing how much joy they had brought you back then. A harsh reminder brought you down from your excitement though; a famous boy group in a crowded park? Not a good idea. You sulked, which grabbed the attention of Mingi.

“What’s got you down? You seemed so excited just a second ago,” he prodded.

“Did you guys forget who you are for a second? We couldn’t possibly go to such a popular place so close to a comeback, you’d be swarmed,” You looked at each of the boys, some of them already sporting a new haircut or color. Mingi’s grown-out bleach job was replaced with brown dye and blonde streaks. It made him look a bit like a calico cat actually, which you thought was really cute. Yeosang had neon green hair peppered with black stripes, Yunho’s hair was silver, and San’s flaming red hair practically begged for the attention of everyone within a kilometer radius. A few of them furrowed their brows, a flicker of understanding passing over their faces as they realized you were right. They slumped a little, the weight of disappointment settling in as they felt their fun afternoon slipping away. Hongjoong, however, pulled out his phone and smirked.

“Give me a second,” He said, dialing a number.

A couple of phone calls later, you found yourself in an empty, Lotte World, a surreal playground all to yourselves. The entire park had been closed for the rest of the day just for the eight boys standing beside you. Sometimes, you forgot about the immense power they possessed, and you found it extremely intimidating. The only other people around were you and the few park staff members left to keep the rides running. Oh— and a crew of cameras—Hongjoong only managed to convince them to go along with the idea by agreeing to have content filmed. So, while you were technically working, your only real task was to have fun.

This was the very first time you’d be on camera with them since the group picture that was taken when you first met. It sent a wave of unease through you as if a million prying eyes would be scrutinizing your every move. Mingi noticed the change in your demeanor as the cameras were being set up and turned on.

Instinctively, he draped his arm over your shoulders, his hand offering a gentle, reassuring comfort as he slowly rubbed up and down your right shoulder. You eased into his touch and felt your anxiety levels decrease as you searched for his familiar cologne to envelope your senses; he always smelled of wood, citrus, and mint, a combination you’d grown to love. Today though, his cologne smelled a bit more musky, like warm sage and sea salt. To your surprise it made your mouth water a bit; breathing in deeply, you asked him, “New cologne?” 

He looked at you with a smirk, hoping you’d notice. He gave a quiet mhmm in response, as he moved you in front of him and started massaging between your neck and shoulders. The varied pressure made you close your eyes and quietly sigh, melting beneath his ministrations. Pulling you a bit closer to him, he leaned down next to your ear, and just slightly above a whisper asked, “Alrighty then, where should we go first?” 

It made you jump a bit and squirm out of his hold on you, your ears felt hot. What the hell is in the air here? Mingi looked more attractive to you than ever and you swallowed a thick lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there. You coughed a bit to clear it, and the feeling, away before you spoke. Thinking about what you wanted to do most here, your eyes gleamed with excitement, “How about we go on a rollercoaster?”

As if it was now his turn to have his demeanor change, Mingi’s aura shifted. He no longer had that flirty air about him, instead, he froze. He tried hiding it, but his face went pale and eyes wide. The calm breathing he had before was replaced with shallow breaths as his heart rate picked up. He really was a big scaredy cat. You didn’t seem to notice though as you grabbed his hand and dragged him along with you to find the nearest rollercoaster, yelling out to the others, “Who wants to come with us?”

Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Yunho eagerly joined in, and San, wanting to stick close to you all, tagged along as well. However, when you reached the coaster, he suddenly hesitated, backing out and opting to wait at the entrance. “Are you sure?” you asked, disliking the thought of him waiting alone. He nodded quietly, but before you could offer to stay with him, Mingi interjected, “I’ll wait with him, it’s okay.” 

Mentally, he let out a sigh of relief, grateful for this easy escape from having to ride what he considered to be a death trap. You watched as they walked away from the empty line, heading towards the outside of the ride. Turning your attention back to the exciting rollercoaster in front of you, you felt a rush of anticipation as the employee prepared everything. You shared a glance with Yunho, both of you silently agreeing to sit together. Outside, San stood captivated by the sprawling metal structure of the coaster, while Mingi's gaze was fixated on the entrance. 

Once the initial sense of relief passed over him, a different feeling began to settle in—regret. Now that he was away from your side, he couldn’t shake the longing feeling that he wished to have stayed and pushed through his fears. It wasn’t until he was out of breath, one hand resting on Yunho’s shoulder, that he realized he had sprinted back. You were already situated in your seat on the coaster, and Mingi had just reached Yunho in time before he boarded. Yunho, recognizing the urgency in Mingi’s eyes, nodded with understanding, aware of his friend's silent plea, and quickly left to accompany San. You looked over with confusion in your eyes, but a smile on your face when you saw him sitting down in the seat next to yours, pulling the bar above over his shoulders to secure himself in. There was no going back now, but he didn’t care, as long as it meant he got to be beside you.

Despite how he felt on the inside though, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to his fear. As the ride slowly started to go up the incline towards the first drop his eyes screwed shut and his breath began to match his erratic heartbeat. You heard the labored breathing next to you and saw that Mingi was absolutely terrified, worried for him you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He struggled to speak, hyperventilating by this point, “I’m scared of heights…”

“What!” Your eyes blew wide, full of concern, “Then… why did you get on?”

He grabbed your hand, and squeezed it tightly, hoping that your touch would help ground him, “I… I wanted to be with you.”

The coaster was now only a mere meter away from the drop, but all you could do was look at him. His desire to be with me outweighed his fear… Your eyes remained locked on him, brimming with a mix of love and concern. You gently intertwined your fingers, and he finally opened his eyes to meet yours. In those familiar brown depths, you could read his every emotion. His gaze had always been a window to his soul, revealing his true feelings. While on the surface he looked mortified, his eyes whispered a different truth—that he had never felt more at ease and secure in his life. As the coaster finally dropped he exclaimed, “Y/N-ah!— I love you!” 

The exhilarating rush of adrenaline from the coaster intertwined with his confession left you feeling truly electric. You raised your hands high, savoring every second of the ride, and slowly, he lifted his hands too, a radiant smile blossoming on his face. Seeing his huge smile as his fears melted away tugged at your heartstrings so deeply that whatever had been holding you back from embracing your feelings for him shattered completely. You found yourself swept up on a rollercoaster of emotions, realizing with extreme clarity that you were truly in love with Song Mingi, finally allowing yourself to believe in the magic of fate. Just loud enough for him to hear you gushed, “I love you too, Mingi-ah!”

You couldn’t see his face very clearly, but you could feel his warmth as he shifted your conjoined hands to press a heartfelt kiss against the back of your hand, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter uncontrollably. As the coaster finally came to a stop, your hand still remained tightly interlaced with Mingi’s, it just felt so natural; but when an employee approached to assist you both out of your seats and a camera crew waited for you to get off, ready to capture the moment, you found yourself reluctantly having to let go. Holding hands was a sweet, innocent gesture between friends, yet the presence of the camera made you hesitate, it felt too intimate in front of the lens. It took a bit of time to finally pry yourselves away from them, but once you did, you were hit by a sudden desire to get a bag of theme park popcorn.

Making your way back by yourself from a concession stand, you stumbled upon voices speaking in stern, hushed tones. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when you heard your name being mentioned, it froze you in your tracks. Discerning the voices from each other you realized that, Wooyoung, San, Yeosang, and Yunho were talking to Mingi.

“I’m not stupid Mingi, and neither are they, we can clearly see that something is going on between you and Yn,” Wooyoung exasperated.

“Woah, woah, I never said you were stupid,” Mingi rebutted, feeling a little hurt, “Do you really think I would call you that and actually mean it?”

“Woo—” San warned, trying to bring his friend down to a level-headed place, “careful…”

Wooyoung glanced over at San, then to Mingi, and back to San again, taking a deep breath to calm himself because he wished to avoid making things worse, “Right sorry… what I mean is; We heard you on the ride, loudly confessing to her, and then you’re expecting us to pretend like we didn’t?”

Mingi looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say. You listened intently once he found the words, “I’m not going to ask you to pretend. Feel free to shout it out like I did, but before you do, think about how it affects her. Not me. She’s the one that would face the consequences of my actions. If anyone is stupid here, it’s me. I was selfish instead of being smart. I don’t want to have to regret saying it to her, so please… not for me but for her, could it stay between us?” 

There was a silence as Wooyoung thought over the proposition he was given, and Yunho was the one that commented next, “I can’t say I’m surprised. I figured it was only a matter of time before you told her how you felt.”

“It’s just a shame you can’t do anything about it,” Yeosang added, always being one wanting to see love win.

“Well… not exactly,” San grinned, “We can pretend to not know anything. It’s just a matter of making sure that Joong, Hwa, and the managers don’t find out.”

“And Jongho,” Wooyoung added, finally breaking his silence, finding it hard to stay upset when Mingi’s puppy eyes were present.

“Jongho already knows about Mingi’s feelings, and he would figure it out pretty quickly if we acted like nothing was going on. Getting him in on it is better than keeping him out of it, he’s less trouble that way,” Yunho disagreed, earning concurring nods from the other three.

“Are you guys going to let me in on it too, or am I to be kept in the dark as well?” You chimed in giggling, deciding it was probably a good moment for you to join the conversation.

“How long have you been there?” Mingi asked, his face feeling hot.

“Long enough…” You smirk, giving him a knowing look.

“None of that…” Wooyoung butts in, “It looks hella obvious when you look at each other like that.”

“Like what?” You inquired, tongue in cheek, playing dumb. You felt frustrated by the assumptions being made, especially since you and Mingi hadn't yet had the opportunity to discuss it together.

Wooyoung sighed heavily, and once again Yunho spoke in place of him, “Look… we’ve all been away for a while, and people are going to start noticing. For now, let’s just head back and enjoy the park while we can, we can figure this out later. I’m sure we’re all hungry; where should we eat after?”

————————————-☆-—————————————

You once thought the world to be anti-romantic, but that wasn't always your belief. You grew up filled with hope, longing for the kind of love that danced through the pages of books and lit up the screens of movies, and you were certain that such love would one day find its way to you. It was, without a doubt, your heart's deepest desire. So when you got your first boyfriend, you believed that this was it, your dream was finally going to come true. Except it didn’t— you were only in middle school and two days later he dumped you for the girl you sat next to in class. It was okay though. You were a resilient kid, determined to not let a fleeting moment with a silly boy dim your spirit, so handling it with grace you moved forward. Throughout high school, you had crushes that flickered like weak candle flames, nothing ever truly igniting. It had slowly started to dim your hope. Your standards had become impossibly high molded by the enchanting stories of fictional romance that no ordinary teenage boy could ever hope to match. It wasn’t until college that you entered your first real relationship, the taste of first love felt exhilarating. It lasted for a couple precious years, but it all came crashing down when you discovered your only love had been cheating on you. You were heartbroken, utterly shattered, and this time, your hope didn’t have the strength to bounce back. You couldn’t help but wonder why you even bothered getting into that relationship with your most recent ex-boyfriend, especially when you hadn’t any hope it would work left within you. That is, until you met him— the man sitting in front of you who you hadn’t realized took your shattered hope and pieced it back together with his gentle love. So now, as you watched him set a piece of food on your plate, you could say with full certainty that you no longer believed the world to be anti-romantic, and that true love does exist, it just takes its time to find you once you’re ready for it.

You paused in eating, eager to capture Mingi’s attention. He was always so completely immersed in his food when he truly enjoyed it, and you couldn’t help but find that trait of his really adorable. When he finally looked up and caught your gaze, a wide smile appeared across his face, making your heart swell. Looking down at your shared table, you made sure that no one was looking before you turned back to him and mouthed, I love you. 

You didn’t know it was even possible for him to smile bigger, yet somehow he did. A soft giggle slipped from your lips when you noticed the tips of his ears turning a cute shade of pink, and with an adorably flustered expression, he cupped his face in his hands, trying to hide as the color deepened to a vibrant red. Your heart raced at his reaction, and you could feel a warm blush creeping onto your cheeks. Wooyoung, sitting beside you, caught onto what was going on and lightly nudged your shoulder and Mingi’s foot from beneath the table, delivering a silent reminder that you both needed to tone down the obviousness. Eventually, he uncovered his face, scratching at the back of his head as he struggled to redirect his focus back to his plate. Just when you thought the tension might linger, Hongjoong came through with a perfect distraction— a drinking game. He set down on the table a lottery spinner, and the balls inside held rousing questions just waiting to be unleashed. Rules of play were simple; a spun fork chooses who gets to go, when you get a ball from the cage you have to answer its question, and if you don’t, take a shot.

Hongjoong started off the game with the first spin. You watched the fork tantalizingly go round and round before it stopped on… you. A nervous grin was plastered on your face as the spinner was passed down to you; you gave its handle a couple of turns before a ball popped out. Opening up the small plastic container, you pulled out a folded piece of paper, and smoothed it out before reading aloud, “What physical feature do you find the most attractive?”

A small wave of ‘ooo’s and looks of curiosity passed throughout the group. You weren’t expecting the questions to be risqué, yet here you were, staring down at one that made your stomach do a flip. Your throat felt suddenly dry, and everyone staring at you in anticipation made your seat feel hot. Out of all the people there, Mingi was the last person you expected to say, “Oh, this’ll be good…” 

He had his arms propped up on the table, his chin resting on his hands, and a sinful grin playing at the corner of his lips. To you and the guys who knew, it was painfully clear what he was up to, but to those who didn’t, he appeared to be nothing more than a playful, teasing friend. You gave him a warning glare, to which he responded by mischievously poking his tongue slightly between his teeth and scrunching up his nose. He’s cute… so I’ll let it slide.

“Welll? What’s the answer!” Wooyoung poked, wiggling his eyebrows, earning an amused chortle from you. Figuring there’d been enough suspense for the night, you cleared your throat and then quickly answered, “Lips.”

“Any size?” San inquired, joining in on the apparent group taunt fest.

Face getting red, you answered, “No… I like big lips the most,” Looking down you quietly added, “ I-I mean…I really like kissing and it makes it more enjoyable. At least it is for me anyways, I don’t speak for anyone else.”

Not realizing the effects your words had on him, Mingi’s leg was nervously bouncing, and his cheeks had a slight dusting of blush on them. Ending your turn, you spun the fork and silently prayed that it wouldn’t land on you again for the rest of the night. Round and round it went, coming to a stop on… Mingi. He opened the ball that the spinner spit out for him and read it aloud, “Who was your last spicy dream about?”

His head whipped up in shock, his eyes wide with mortification reaching for his glass to take a shot, receiving a few disappointed groans from his curious friends. After downing his drink, he locked eyes with you, giving you a silent answer that secretly you had desired to know. Smirking you decided to take the opportunity to mess with him like he did with you.

“Come on man, not even going to humor us?” You teased. Wooyoung had stifled a cackle at the look on Mingi’s face— a nervous side eye as he shook his head, spinning the fork to end his turn. You just snickered, feeling content with his reaction.

————————————-☆-—————————————

Nighttime had fully settled in by the time everyone left the restaurant and the hot humidity of the day had dissipated from the air. It was a warm, refreshing walk back to the house, and with the bittersweet knowledge that it was the last day of summer, you felt a deep yearning to do one last thing before it slipped away, “I want to get some ice cream, any of you guys want to join?”

The guys paused for a moment, weighing their options, but after a long and exhausting day, they ultimately decided to head home for some much-needed rest. As expected, Mingi chose to stay behind, lingering in the promise of alone time with you. Once the guys had walked out of view, you felt slightly awkward, uncertain about how to move forward now that things had shifted between you. Almost immediately, though, Mingi reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in a gentle embrace that brought a sense of comfort through his familiar presence. He always had a remarkable ability to put you at ease in those moments of tension, making your world feel just a little bit lighter. As you started your journey towards the nearest convenience store, he cleared his throat, “So… big lips huh?”

You playfully punched his arm with your free hand and then covered your face, embarrassed you admitted to that truth earlier. He moved your hand away gently so that he could look at you. One of the first things you noticed about him was his lips, and every time you looked at them it stirred something within you. Deep down you’d always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, how his plush lips would feel on yours. Would they be firm? Soft? Slow or hungry? You couldn’t help but stare at them now. He smirked as he realized where your gaze was directed and he licked his lips, “What kind of ice cream do you want?”

You looked away to find that you were already in front of a freezer stocked with the sweet treat. When did we get here? He pulled out a banana flavor for himself and waited patiently, thinking quickly you answered, “Uhhhh… strawberry.”

He picked one out just for you, went inside to pay, and then returned to settle beside you on the bench outside. In the warm air and a comfortable silence, you both savored your ice cream; every now and then stealing glances at the other, before returning back to your delicious treat. You both were acting like giddy kids with their first crush. As you took the last bite of your ice cream and discarded the wrapper in a nearby bin, out of the corner of your eye you spotted a playground and booked it for the swings. Mingi, caught off guard by your sudden movement, understood quickly and followed after, tossing his empty wrapper away. 

You loved the swings, always feeling a rush of freedom when you soared through the air like a bird. Slowly, you swung back and forth, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of the stars, though you could only catch faint glimmers due to the bright city’s relentless light pollution. Mingi mimicked you, but he ended up losing his balance and tumbled right out of the swing seat. He hit the ground with a soft thud. Instantly you rushed over, anxiously checking if he was okay. His small, infectious laughter reassured you that he was fine, and you couldn’t help but join in, finding it hilarious how he always seemed to forget just how tall he was. 

You grabbed his hand to help him sit up and dusted the dirt off his shoulders, not realizing how close you ended up to his face until you felt his warm breath on you. He was biting at his lip as he stared at yours, causing your heart to flutter. Your faces merely a couple of centimeters away from each other, you’d only have to move just a bit to— Mingi pressed his lips upon yours, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, like a velvety pillow against your own. You could feel the gentle tickle of his breath beneath your nose, as his fingers wove through your hair. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as you both lost yourselves in the intoxicating sensation of each other’s touch. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and you happily parted, granting him access into your mouth. In that moment, you realized you would forever love the combination of strawberry and banana that flooded your senses. After what felt like a blissful eternity, you finally separated, your breaths mingling as you rested your foreheads together. He smiled gently, eyes sparkling, and he gave you a quick, tender peck that held a world of affection, “I love you so much, Yn. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.”

His words made you absolutely melt, making you feel like the main character of an early 2000s rom-com movie, “You gave me the hope to believe in love again, Song Mingi.” 

You gave him a deep, heartfelt kiss, pouring into it every emotion you desperately wished to express for him. He grinned against your mouth, glad that he finally had you.

“I’m going to safely assume that this means we're dating now, in secret?” He said looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes that made you feel weak in the knees.

“Oooh, this will be fun. Dating in secret, like we are in some kind of sitcom or something,” You grinned, assuring him he was right in his assumption, “We should head back soon though if we want to keep this a secret.”

—Middle of Fall—

Six months since moving in and over a month of secretly dating Mingi. You two have become quite skilled at creating the illusion of being just friends, though really the only thing that had changed was that now you shared kisses when no one else was watching. For Halloween, you had a couple's "besties" costume;  you dressed up as Fred and Daphne, and somehow you had convinced Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho to be Shaggy, Scooby, and a gender-bent Velma, to keep suspicion at bay. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed none the wiser, and you and Mingi were as happy as ever.

—Beginning of Winter—

7 months. You began researching apartments in the area, knowing that you’d much prefer to stay in Korea than return to the States. This was home for you now. During your secret sleepovers, Mingi would eagerly share his thoughts on which neighborhoods offered the best apartments, that somehow were always conveniently within walking distance for him. You weren’t going to complain though.

—Christmas Day—

8 months. Mingi surprised you with a gift you had always hoped for over the years, and you couldn't help but wonder how he knew that you wanted it. He must be able to read minds… oh, Jesus, I hope not. The thoughts I’ve had about him… You gave him a handmade gift, which made him cry; he was such a deeply emotional person, which you loved more than anything. 

Christmas was one of your favorite holidays, and you had always wanted to share a kiss with your boyfriend under the mistletoe, a sweet moment you had never experienced before. When you had spied some dangling over a door frame, you scanned the area for watchful eyes before you pulled him in for a quick kiss. Well, maybe not so quick… he pulled you back in, turning it into a fervent, hasty make-out session that left you both breathless.

—New Year's Eve—

Only a few days later, the guys and the KQ managers had organized a team New Year’s Eve party. As the clock struck midnight, you and Mingi locked eyes from across the room, playfully blowing kisses to each other, not daring to do it for real in front of everyone. Though, once everyone had gone to bed, you finally got to share your New Year’s kiss, “Happy New Year, Yn.”

“Happy New Year, Min.”

—End of Winter—

10 months. It was nearly a year since you moved in, and today was your five-month anniversary with Mingi. You both were fortunate enough to have the day off and at last, you could finally celebrate together. Since Hongjoong and Seonghwa dedicated their entire day to fine-tuning their Matz performance at the studio, you two were free to do as you pleased, without having to worry about getting caught. He surprised you with a wonderful breakfast, that he made himself, and after you finished eating together, he excitedly told you to get ready because he had something special planned for the day. 

As you were getting ready though, outside rain began to pour, heavily; the moment the first crack of thunder rolled in, it became clear that your plans were dashed. You heard a soft knock at your door, and Mingi poked his head in with a warm smile that brightened the gloomy atmosphere, “Change of plans, put your pajamas back on. Let’s make a blanket fort.”

So you did, and it was amazing. It was enormous, full of soft pillows, twinkling string lights, and an array of fluffy blankets to lay on. The fort’s opening was perfectly positioned right in front of the TV in his room, and you had a double feature of each of your favorite movies.

—Beginning of Spring—

Work comeback was happening in a couple of months and the festival performances were starting to pick up, and after the long winter break from the last tour, you were excited to be traveling with them once again. KCON was upon you in just a few days, and you felt like a hamster tirelessly running on a wheel amidst the whirlwind of preparations. Yet, despite the chaos, everything felt just right because you got to spend every day by his side, watching him passionately rehearse until he deemed the routine to be perfect. He always looks so hot when he’s dancing.

“You’re drooling, Yn,” Yunho laughed.

“Ha ha… am not,” You snapped out of the trance Mingi had you in and you wiped your mouth, it was dry, Yunho was just teasing you.

“You practically were,” San jumped in, also noticing how you were staring, “Gotta be more careful, you’re gonna give yourself away.”

You looked over to where the managers, Joong, and Hwa were, talking to each other about KCON details, “Yeah… they’re too busy to notice anything right now. Thank god…”

“You were looking at him like some horny teenager,” Wooyoung chimed in, joining the bandwagon, “Heck if I didn’t know any better I’d think that you two haven’t— nah, you two have had… right?”

You looked at him with big eyes, face red as ever, whispered yelling at him, “Shhhhhut up, Woo.”

“Are you serious? You two really haven’t slept together yet?” He looked shocked. Yunho pushed him a bit, signaling him to cut it out.

“Who cares if they have or haven’t. It’s none of your business,” Yunho defended.

“Thank you, Yun. It really isn’t his business,” you huffed.

“Yeah, Woo, we all live under the same roof. We would hear them if they were,” San theorized, thinking that he was helping, causing you to hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

“They could go somewhere else,” Wooyoung rattled on.

You let out a muffled groan, “Why do you want to know so bad…”

“Know what?” Mingi had walked over to take a water break, wondering what had you so flustered.

“Why you two haven’t fucked yet,” Wooyoung said nonchalantly.

Mingi choked on his water, sending him into a coughing fit, he croaked out, “Wh-what? W-why are you talking about that?”

“The way Yn was looking at you earlier… let’s just say it wasn’t very PG,” Yunho attested. You glared daggers at him. So much for defending me earlier, huh?

Mingi looked at you with a smirk, “Oh really?”

“Please not you too. This is four against one now, it’s not fair,” You whined quietly, “It’s also not a very safe topic of conversation, there are people here that aren’t supposed to know about us, remember??”

They all looked over at said people, who were still not aware of what was going on, you continued, “It’s far too public to talk about that.”

“Careful there, Yn. Your words sound borderline suggestive,” Wooyoung jested.

You got up and started to leave, “Yeah no, not doing this anymore. I’ve got things to do, gotta work ya know.”

“Ahh come on, I’m just having fun,” Wooyoung pouted, Mingi pushed him slightly, causing him to fall over. The three boys just laughed at him as you left the room, taking a much-needed calming breath as the studio door closed behind you.

————————————-☆-—————————————

There was a team meeting in fifteen minutes, and you found yourself preparing coffee for everyone, standing in quiet anticipation as you waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing. Suddenly, you felt a pair of arms wrap gently around your waist, drawing you into a warm back hug. Mingi rested his chin in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry for earlier. Woo has no filter when it comes to that sort of thing.”

You turned around and hooked your arms around his neck, “Oh I know. It’s fine really, no harm done, just extremely flustered is all.”

He nodded, moving his hands so that they settled on your waist and lazily rubbed circles, “Still, he shouldn’t have kept messing with you. So what if we haven’t? Why rush? We have the rest of our lives together.”

“The rest of our lives?” You grinned.

“Of course, you’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he laughed.

You smirked, “Well I hope I won’t have to wait that long…”

He raised his eyebrows, mouth slightly agape, you continued on, “Do you plan on making me wait, Princess?”

His face flushed at the nickname, caught off guard by how it was used. With a spark of newfound confidence, you playfully continued to tease him, letting your hand glide down his chest before using your pointer and middle finger to slowly walk in a line back up. He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a graveled tone, “Of course not, I just never wanted to make you feel pressured, that's all.”

“You could never make me feel pressured, Min. We don’t have to rush, but it’s been pretty long already… don’t you think?” You whispered, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Mmm, was all he could muster in response before crashing his lips against yours. Unlike the first time you kissed, this one was filled with a deeper hunger and a passionate fire that burned for the other. He lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the counter, continuing to kiss you with fervor, moving from your lips to your ear, and then trailing down to your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin, a mixture of desire and longing building inside you both. His hands snaked up under your shirt, resting his hands above your waist, and you carded your fingers through his hair, while your other hand pulled him in closer to you. 

“Hey Y/N, the new choreographer is lactose intoler—” Seonghwa entered the room, stopping at the sight before him. You both broke apart immediately. Mingi helped you down from the counter, and you bit at your thumb nervously. Seonghwa just stared at you both, dumbfounded, and then continued as if nothing happened, “—anyways. Just make sure that you don’t put milk in there alright… I saw nothing.”

As quick as he entered, he left, leaving both you and Mingi in shock. You giggled nervously, “Welp! Hwa knows now. Do you think he will say anything to Joong?”

Mingi thought for a moment before he shook his head and laughed, “No, I think we’re good for now, but it’s probably best to save the hot and heavy stuff for when we aren’t at work from now on.”

You flashed him a sheepish grin as the coffee maker chimed, signaling that it had finished brewing. Turning to pour the dark liquid into each cup, you tried your best to recompose yourself after what just happened. Mingi snapped the lids on once you were done, then offered his hand to help carry half of them to the team meeting, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

—Coachella—

12 months since winning the raffle, and one week until you had to move out. Lord have mercy on my soul, pleaseeeeee, was all you could think when your platinum blond boyfriend walked out of the dressing room. You felt embarrassingly turned on just by what he was wearing; an unbuttoned jacket, and distressed jeans that left little to the imagination, paired with a large faux tattoo scrawled across his chest advertising his signature phrase. It was all too much, you could already feel your face heating up, and the sweltering weather of the valley was not helping; Neither was the fact that you and him still hadn’t found the chance to relieve any of your accumulated tension… since there was always someone around to interrupt your attempts, keeping you from going through with what you both longed for. You had reached a point where sexual frustration was constantly bothering you, with no way to resolve it. Before you and him had talked about the possibility of it, self-satisfaction was enough to ease the longing, but now, not even that could provide the relief you desperately craved. Just seeing him walk around had you involuntary pressing your thighs together. You had never felt more aroused before than you did now and it was becoming distracting to your task at hand. 

Your job today was to lend a hand with quick changes and keep track of props. The guys would soon start their last performance and you still hadn’t double-checked that each prop was in its correct spot backstage. Shaking your head to clear your mind, you got up and headed towards the prop table. Everything was in its rightful place and you didn’t have much to do but wait, so you kept yourself busy by fiddling with the cane that your silly boyfriend held during his part in Arriba.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with the props before?” Mingi leaned in, whispering sweetly in your ear from behind, startling you and causing your heart to race. You spun around, eyes wide, holding your chest as if it would soothe your erratic heartbeat. With furrowed brows and a lighthearted faux frown, you swatted at him, but he effortlessly dodged your playful attempt.

“Jesus Min! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” You lightly chastised as you crossed your arms, not actually upset just spooked.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist,” He smiled, hands up in the air in surrender, “Anyways, are you excited for the show?”

“Always!” You beamed.

“What do you think of tonight’s outfit,” He did a little twirl, holding out his arms, displaying the large tattoo for you better. Trying to hide the blush on your face you looked away from him, and he grinned, “I’ll take that as a yes then?”

Nodding, you turned your gaze back to him, biting down on your tongue, your eyes lingering on him with a mix of lust and love, “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear…”

“I’ll go put a shirt on right now, I can’t have you dying on me,” He joked.

“No, keep it off. One less thing to take off later,” You teased, feeling proud as you watched his face turn a light shade of red.

“Oh? What’s later?” He flirted back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“You’ll find out after the show,” You grinned, leaving him hanging, and giving him a reminder, “You’re on in five.”

“Cheer for me?” He said, flashing a cocky smile as he slowly started walking to join the rest of the guys.

“Of course! Knock ‘em dead, Princess,” You winked, blowing him a kiss.

————————————-☆-—————————————

The morning sun poured in through the hotel curtains, gently coaxing you awake. Your eyes fluttered open, landing on tousled, messy platinum locks. As you yawned, you felt the comforting shift of Mingi’s arm around your waist, drawing you in closer as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. A soft giggle escaped your lips, feeling tickled as his breath brushed against your bare skin, memories flooded in of all that unfolded the night before. Clothes discarded around the room, his strong grip holding you firmly against the wall, his gentle touch igniting waves of unimaginable pleasure as you both came undone together. Wrapped in each other's warm embrace, eventually drifting into blissful sleep.

“Morning, Love,” He smiled softly against your skin, his voice coarse and warm with the lingering embrace of sleep. He started placing soft, lazy kisses along your neck, and you let out a content sigh.

“M’good morning, Min,” You moved your hand so that you could play with his hair. It still felt soft despite all the times it had been bleached. He hummed happily and you wished that you could stay just like that all day, lost in each other’s presence, but there was so much that had to be done. Begrudgingly you said, “We should get up. There’s a music video that needs filming…”

With his morning voice still present he groaned, “No, let’s just stay here. They can get it done without us.”

You airily laughed at his pathetic, and cute, attempt to convince you, “I wish, but alas it’s quite unfortunate that it can’t be done without us.”

He moved above you, propping himself up with his arms, a sinful look in his eyes, “What if I tried persuading you in a different way,” He slid his knee so that it was in between your legs, slowly moving it up, and pressing lightly against you.

“Mmmmm, tempting,” You breathed out, trying your best to prevent yourself from letting him rile you up, “but I would rather not risk getting scolded by Hongjoong.”

He sighed, a smirk on his face as he flopped back down on the bed, “Okayyy… you’re right.”

“There’s always later tonight, though, if you’re still feeling persuasive,” You grinned, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before you hopped up.

He called out to you before you went into the bathroom, “Count on it, Love.”

—End of Spring/Move Out Day—

The year had flown by and your time at the house had come to an end. You cherished every moment spent there, but a thrilling sense of excitement grew within you for the new chapter awaiting in your new place—conveniently just a few minutes away within walking distance, just as Mingi had always hoped. You looked at your empty room in the house one last time, a bittersweet ache settling in as you closed the door behind you. All of the guys awaited you in the living room, ready to help you get settled into your new apartment. As you looked at each of them, you were reminded of all of the great memories you spent with them over the year, and tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. Half of them had already been crying, and the other half seemed on the verge of starting as they pulled you into a warm group hug. As they let you go, Hongjoong spoke, “I guess this means I can finally stop pretending like I don’t know you and Mingi are dating, huh?”

He enjoyed the look of surprise on everyone’s faces; no one knew that he knew, not even Seonghwa who felt betrayed, “How long have you known?”

“I guess I always knew it would happen eventually, ever since her very first day here. I would be quite disappointing as a Captain if I couldn't sense the feelings of my team members,” He explained, “Plus I saw them canoodling on the playground last summer. Way to be subtle guys…”

“Ope! He’s known since day one,” Yeosang cracked up, covering his mouth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, confused.

“The primary reason behind the rule was to prevent conflict. I knew that if I had spoken up and kept you two apart, it would have created even more problems than simply allowing you to be together. Deep down, I couldn’t help but secretly wish that you both would finally start dating, the tension had become almost too much to bear,” He reasoned, then smiling sweetly he admitted, “I’m rooting for you both, genuinely.”

You heard the soft sound of sniffling and turned to see Mingi in tears, his arms outstretched, longing to hug Hongjoong, “Captain… I love you, you really are the best.”

“Yeah, yeah… I love you too— “ He dodged the embrace, redirecting the topic back to you, “Let’s get you moved into the new place shall we, Yn?”

—Epilogue—

Life started to feel like each day was unfolding in a beloved book or favorite movie. You were offered a permanent position at KQ, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the thought of seeing the guys every day. You found genuine delight in going to work; albeit it was a strange feeling for you to actually be excited about your job for once, but nevertheless you had no reason at all to complain. Eventually, you got the chance to visit Hinata on a trip to Japan, and when you introduced her to your boyfriend she damn near passed out. She was absolutely ecstatic for you, insisting that you had to make her your maid of honor since she was the one who encouraged you to do the raffle in the first place. You couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh, reassuring her that there was truly no one else you would rather have in that special role when the day came. Mingi joked with her, “I haven’t even proposed yet and she’s already assigning her maid of honor…”

Jokes aside though, he couldn’t wait for that day to come, already dreaming up the perfect way to do it; And he always seized every opportunity to tell you that you were the love of his life and he couldn’t wait to spend forever by your side. You were his everything— and Mingi was yours.

“I love you.”

“Forever and always.”

Masterlist

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters

COMPLETE | ao3

character(s): Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Will "Ironhead" Miller, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Benny Miller, fem!Reader

series summary: You've suddenly and tragically lost your best friend and can't handle the grief. Until four strangers give you a glimmer of hope that things will (and can) get better. (ultimately a story about working through grief with the help of our four boys from Triple Frontier)

series warnings: grief, mentions of death, violence (through the act of fighting - come on, it's an MMA story basically), fighting, minimal physical descriptions of reader (i will do my best to keep it as neutral as possible!), cursing and inappropriate language, mentions of PTSD and substance abuse, mma/kickboxing/muay thai jargon (each chapter will have its own separate and detailed warnings!), mutual pining (frankie and fem!reader)

a/n: I know I said I was going to take a hiatus from writing because of what this month means to me personally, but I've found that writing this story has actually helped me deal with my own grief... Also, I'd like to think I have moderate knowledge in the fighting game (started out training as a boxer and now I'm doing muay thai / kickboxing), so if something seems wrong, let me know! Anyway, this story is very special to me. I hope you enjoy it.

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

Part 5.

Part 6.

[maelialuv]

A Farmer's Friend. a Bridgerton fanfic <3

part one: A Chance Encounter

Summary: division brings unity. secrecy creates infatuation. a king's venture into the real world reveals desire.

Warnings: slow burn! strangers to friends to lovers! (Charlotte does not exist) smut! cold showers are on me.

Wordcount: 3.4K

The country side , to you, was heaven on earth. The far roaming hills, the deep valleys. The wide expanse of nothing but lush green fields. There was truly nothing more beautiful.

Your father's farm, to you, was the most beautiful of all. Located at the farthest edge of the county, miles and miles away from the city of London, it was a haven of tall grass, fruitful crops and rich orchards. That is where you spent most of your time, perched between the trunk and wide branches of a tall apple tree in the deepest part of your family's gardens. Far away from the bustling farm house, the uproar of live stock and the erratic, but loving, nature of your home.

From the moment the sun rose over the hills and danced across your face in the morning, to the moment it tucked itself into the valley at night, you were out in the fields. Tucked away indoors, you found yourself claustrophobic. Cased in, stir crazy and a tad hysterical. From a young age, your parents had to heard you inside at the end of a day much like the sheep dogs would heard the lambs back into their pens. It was no different, even as you approached adulthood.

You had your back to the trunk of a tree, a book clutched in one hand and an apple - freshly plucked from the branch above you- in the other, when you caught sight of one of the stable boys chasing after your father in the field ahead of you.

A man of great strength and pride, your father took his work in the fields very seriously. Even after the death of his own father, he was back shearing sheep after just two days. This is why it confused you ever so much , brows furrowed in a frown, to see your father drop his shears at once in front of the stable boy and clutch his chest. The pair raced down the field, sprinting in the direction of the house with the dogs trailing behind them in a flurry of brown and grey and white.

You took a pensive bite of the apple, crunching deliberately. 'Whatever is the matter?' you thought. 'What is the meaning of such fuss?' You tried desperately to get back to your book, the words of the author falling on distracted thoughts as your mind pondered such a reaction from your father. You snapped your book shut with a huff, annoyed and now positively rabid with curiosity.

John, an Orcher in his late fifties, was plucking apples from a tree just next to yours. You peered your head over to him. "John," you called, "have you any reason for father's fuss with the stable boy?"

John's face paled, almost frightfully white, at your question. He took his cap off with the type of remorse one shows with deep apology. "I'm terribly sorry, madam. I thought all the children were aware." You quirked a brow at his words, irritated that the farms people still saw you as one of the children despite being the eldest daughter in the house. His voice was gruff and gravely, years of shouting at yardsmen wearing on his vocal chords. "There is to be a royal visit, madam. Today."

Your eyebrows shot up so fast , you wondered for a moment if they were still on your face. "A royal visit? Here?" The Dowager Princess had not been out in the country since the passing of the late King. Your brows furrowed in deep confusion. "Whatever for?"

John shrugged his shoulders earnestly.

"Lord knows but I, madam. Some sort of review of the farmland, but that's between the King and his advisors."

"The King?" you squawked. You hiked your skirt up, throwing your legs over the branch and jumping down. You stalked to the bottom of the ladder John was standing on. "The King is coming here?"

In all your eighteen years, you'd only ever seen one monarch. Even so, it was a painting of His late Majesty. All you knew of the current King was that he made no visits to the towns, nor galas or balls. He had been labelled somewhat a recluse of a man. You wondered how that could be healthy for such an old person. At least, you assumed he was old. The previous king had died aged seventy and two, so this king must have been creeping into his late fifties now.

"Yes, madam." John said. "Your father has been called now, to prepare. He is due to arrive soon."

Your feet sprang into action, galloping down the aisle of the orchard at lightening speed as you raced toward the direction of the house. You never cared for pompous displays, or the royal family as a whole, very much at all. But today was different. The king himself was visiting your home. Your fields, your valleys and your hills. You felt oddly protective. As if this inspection was to be one with an insulting conclusion. You reassured yourself that they would see the beauty in your home. In the sway of the grassy hills in the wind.

Knowing your mother would not let you close enough to see even the Royal carriage make its way through the wooden gates of your home, you rounded the corner of the brown farm house and clambered your way up the large oak tree in the middle of the drive way. From high above in the branches, you would not be seen by your mother - as she so preferred. She yearned for a daughter more like the ones her sisters had. Lady like and proper and ones that smile at every pleasing farmer their mothers set them up with.

Your mother was disappointed in the lack of girlishness in you. She was displeased in your fascination with reading, and your taking to the outdoors. She was put off by the closeness between you and your father, finding it strange that the two of you could be friends as well as father and daughter. She found your desire to spend all day outdoors odd, and you found her desire to marry a farmer whilst hating farms to be odd in return.

You gripped on to the tallest branches, peering through leaves in the hopes of seeing the gleams of gold as the carriage approached. You saw your father and the farmer boys line up in front of the door below, and your mother and younger brothers waited just behind them. In the distance, you heard a low thrumming sound. It got louder, and seemingly closer, as more seconds ticked by. You realised, as you heard the clop clop clop noise, that it was the sound of horses' hooves on the dirt tracks as the carriage came into view.

The carriage halted in front of your door, and your father outstretched his hand to an older gentlemen in a plush blue suit. Though your fathers clothes- an old grey shirt and black trousers- were not as elegant, he looked just as regal as he shook hands with the stranger, who you assumed to be the King. He had greying hair, curled into ringlets by his side. There were several other men beside him, ranging from young to old to very old.

You craned your neck to hear their voices, a chorus of low hums and stiff lipped compliments from the old man you saw to be the king. Several minutes ticked by, boredom creeping in as you swung your legs back and forth over the branch, before the group of men finally split to tour the farm land with your father. You rejoiced, a grumble in your belly making any words they said inconsequential. You began your decent from the tree.

With scraped palms and knees, you made it to the ground with a thud. A successful spying , you thought as you wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Your monologing was interrupted by the stifled chuckle of a man behind you. You whipped round, narrowing your eyes at the man. Dressed in a simple white shirt and the same black field trousers as your father, he looked to be a fielder himself.

"Hello," he said, voice even and light. He stood with his hands behind his back, polite and effortlessly straight. He was young, younger than the rest of the group you assumed he had been standing with. He must have been no more than three years older than you, as his cheeks still had the faintest roundness to them.

"What are you doing?" he asked when you did not say anything.

You knew your eyes were wide, those of someone caught. There was no use in lying , nor excusing. This man had watched you climb down the tree, from where you had spied. You outstretched your hands, as if stating the obvious. "I was climbing down. From the tree."

"From the tree?"

"Yes, from the tree."

"From that tree?" the man asked, voice teasing and smile irritating as he pointed to the tall oak you had previously been perched in.

"Yes, that tree."

"Whatever for?" He placed his hands behind his back once more, slowly pacing around you in a circle.

"I was hungry, you see." You deadpanned.

"Ah," he affirmed, "and you did not bring food when you climbed up the tree." He was enjoying teasing you, as the smirk on his face grew larger at your squirming. "Or simply not enough."

"Well," you trailed off, waiting for the man to introduce himself to you.

"Forgive me," he said, outstretching a hand. "I am George."

"Well George," you continued. "Usually the trees I climb have some sort of fruit or such for me to eat while I climb, or lounge, or read. This is not my typical tree to climb." You explained.

"And I suppose you have a typical tree?" His face was oddly gleeful, as if this conversation with you - a stranger- was the best part of his day. His smile was wide, showing teeth.

"Yes, I do."

"Which is?" He asked, stepping closer toward you. His smirk was a teasing grin now.

"The apple tree," you stated, that protectiveness creeping back into your tone. "at the farthest end of the orchard."

"Now," he said, voice lilted with mock impress, "I must see this tree, that you so fondly and regularly climb." His voice was a stage whisper.

"Alas, I cannot." You teased back, some what enjoying the banter yourself. "I do not simply show my tree to strangers."

"Ah, but I am not a stranger," he said, closer again now. "I am just George." He stuck his hand out again, waiting for you to shake it. Hesitantly, you did. "I would be honoured to see your tree."

"Do you not have business to attend to?" You asked, gesturing in the direction the other men and the Royal herd had walked in. George shook his head, waving off your remark.

"They are fine themselves. They have no use for my agreements here and questions there." He said. "And even so, if I were to re-join them now," he took another small step closer to you, eyes searching in the distance, "my mind would think of nothing but this apple tree at the farthest end of the orchard."

You smiled at the man as he looked down at you, and felt the strangest urge to lead him by the hand to your sacred reading spot. Something about George made you trust him, utterly and completely, as if you'd known him your whole life. As if you'd run through the fields with him as children, and he knew where the tree was already.

"All right, just George."

A bright, down right contagious smile etched itself on to his face. You couldn't help but smile just as brightly.

The two of you strode side by side through the back field of the farm, chatting idly as you lead him to the orchard. George told you he was a keen farmer himself, but his family bound him to the city. "Why don't you just leave them?" you asked as you opened the large wooden field gate for him.

George paused, leaning on the gate with both arms crossed. "It is not that simple," he said, his face contort in a frown. "I am obliged to stay there. It is a duty, of sorts." He looked around at the tall grass, the wild flowers that bloomed in the field at his feet. "If it were up to me, I would spend all my time in the country."

You felt immensely sorry for him. The thought of being away from the country for more than a day put a nasty pit in your stomach. Gently, you placed your hand on his arm. He looked up at you with glum eyes. You gave him your best reassuring smile as you squeezed his arm lightly. He smiled back at you.

You fell back into stride with one another after that. George asked about your family, and you told him about your father and your three younger sisters. He asked where they were, and you let out a haughty laugh. "They cower at the sight of mud. They are cooped inside with my mother, embroidering or learning the pianoforte or some other nonsense."

"You see no value in these tasks, then?" George asked with a small smirk.

"I see no point, given where we live. What use have I for musical impress or intricate sewing when I spend my time outdoors?" You paused your walking, gesturing to the cows grazing near by. "Any man I encounter in these parts will be as impressed by my pianoforte as those cows."

"Ah, I see." George chuckled to himself. "You are to be a spinster then." You whipped round to face him, annoyance turning your brows into a tight v shape. George laughed again.

"For a stranger you are certainly bold."

"I do not hear a defence."

"No, I am not to be a spinster." You crossed your arms, uncrossing them when George cocked his head to the side slightly. You must have looked ridiculous, like an petulant, spoilt child. You huffed.

"I am not to be a spinster. At least not by intention." You both began walking again, rounding the corner to the long aisle of the orchard. "There," you said, pointing to your tree at the very end.

You turned when George remained silent. His mouth was agape slightly, brown eyes wide and almost honey in the mid day sun. "Beautiful," he sighed out.

It caught you off guard, the strange desire to lead him by the hand to your tree and show him the very best branches. The way he looked at your favourite spot with such awe made you near desperate to share it with him. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching his hand that was inches from yours at your side. You shook your head slightly, as if a jitter would rid of of such peculiar feelings. "Come along, then."

George walked obediently at your side, keeping perfect pace with you. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice the sway of your hair in the light breeze, the way it framed your face so gently. Or the patches of freckles that spotted the bridge of your nose, or the subtle fullness of your bottom lip, how it was slightly larger than the top.

"You said you are not to be a spinster by choice," he began as you reached the foot of the tree. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean is," you said as you reached up to a near branch, pulling yourself up with little struggle, "no man here is in need of a wife, and I am in no need for an elderly husband." You frowned when George laughed again. "You must stop that!" You cried.

"Stop what?" He smiled through his teeth again.

"Laughing at me!"

"I am not laughing at you, forgive me." He said, reaching up to the same branch and - just as you had- hauled him self up with ease. "I simply find it hard to believe no one here is in need of a wife."

"Everyone is already married, or too old, or far too young." You deadpanned. "I do not want to marry a frail old man."

"Let me rephrase," George began. He reached across you, and for a moment you thought he was going to touch your cheek. You sucked in a nervous breath. He plucked an apple that was hanging just above you ear. "I find it hard to believe no one here wants you for a wife."

You found it hard to form words, stuttering over a response. George bit into his apple , smugness radiating off of him in reams.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a moment, your backs leaning against the trunk of the tree while your legs stretched out next to each other. "Do you sit out here all day?" George asked softly, turning his head toward you. His breath fanned over your face slightly. You nodded.

"Most days," you sighed contently. "I am usually the one that goes into the towns if needed. Otherwise, I am left alone to sit here as I please." You looked out as the sheep roamed the field ahead of you.

George rested his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I am envious of you, truly." He said, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You turned your head to face him. Your shoulders were brushing against each other with every breath.

"You are welcome to come here," you said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You can bring a book, and you may sit here for as long as you like, whenever you please. Whenever your family allows you to be in the country."

This close to him, you noticed the flecks of gold in George's eyes. The small freckle above his eye brow. The rosiness of his cheeks. His words echoed in your head.

'I find it hard to believe no one wants you for a wife."

In the distance, you heard the ruckus of the men returning to the front of the house. George shot up. You shot up with him.

"I must go," he said hurriedly. He swung his legs over the branch and jumped off. As you moved to do the same, you saw him waiting on the ground with his hands outstretched. He was helping you down. You reached a hand out to him, and he pulled you down. Expecting a thud, you noticed he had steadied you with a hand on your waist. "I wish I could stay longer, I truly do. Alas, they will run like chickens without heads if I am not back soon."

You wished to find some poetic goodbye, but all you could muster was a soft sigh. "Will you be back?" His hand was still gripping yours.

George chuckled breathily.

"Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I must bring a book and see if this really is the best spot for reading."

The voices in the distance got louder, calling George's name now. He looked over his shoulder, then back to you. "I am back in the country in two weeks time. May I see you then?"

You smiled at his politeness, hoping your hasty nod came across as friendly and not desperate. "Of course."

"Splendid."

He brought your hand to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles. "It has been a pleasure, madam." He said with a gentlemanly bow.

He turned to walk away then, and you felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your feet were glued to the ground, unable to move you from that same spot.

"Oh," George called from a distance. "The inspection went fantastically. Your farm shall have a wonderful review." He grinned, all boyish and joyful, before turning back and sprinting in the direction of the loud voices.

His words only sunk in after he'd rounded the corner gate, and you nearly collapsed onto a log.

Not only had you spent your afternoon with a total stranger, telling him your deepest thoughts and secrets, scandalously close should a gossiping eye see it.

You'd just spent your afternoon with the King of England.

[senascoop]

DREAMSCAPE ☁︎ M.LIST !

WELCOME to the DREAMSCAPE MINI ENHYPEN series— a collection of seven unique fanfics that blur the lines between fantasy, crime, comedy, and romance. Each story dives deep into intricate plots, so if you were hoping for simple FLUFF or SMUT, you might want to look elsewhere. But if you're here for thrilling twists, complex characters, and captivating worlds, you've come to the right place! BUCKLE UP; it's going to be a wild ride!

WORD COUNT MIGHT RANGE FROM 10K—30K,

MINORS, please steer clear of the SMUT fanfics. However, don't worry—you’re more than welcome to dive into the fluff stories! They’re just as captivating and enjoyable, offering all the heartwarming moments without the mature content. Enjoy responsibly!

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN ANY OF THESE FICS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH ONE YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN!

JUST REPLY WITH THE PREFERENCE, AND I’LL MAKE SURE TO KEEP YOU UPDATED. THANKS!

﹙ 🕊️ ﹚ ぃ ──── SHE HAS LOST EVERY CASE, HOW COULD SHE WIN MINE?

EXCUSE ME !

READ HERE

SUSPECT ! HEESEUNG × LAWYER ! AFAB READER

MATURE THEMES, LAW BASED & SMUT !

Heeseung is unexpectedly thrust into the center of a murder investigation, accused of killing an old school friend. The truth, however, runs deeper than it appears, leaving everyone questioning whether he's truly the suspect. Enter you, his defense lawyer, notorious for losing every case you take on. Against all odds, you're handed Heeseung's case, and let’s just say…it’s a recipe for disaster for both of you. As you dig deeper, unraveling layers of deception, you’ll have to confront your own doubts and insecurities. Will you be able to prove Heeseung's innocence, or will this case be another tally in your string of failures?

﹙ 🧊 ﹚ ぃ ──── DID I REALLY DESERVE TO BE CAUGHT UP WITH SUCH A TROUBLE?

OOPS, WRONG ERA !

READ HERE

TIME TRAVELLER ! JAY × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

20TH CENTURY AU, SLIGHTLY FUTURISTIC & FLUFF !

Jay was the epitome of a perfect student—charming, intelligent, and utterly dedicated. The only catch? He was a time traveler from the future, marooned in the 20th century and trying to blend in as a normal teenager. When you discovered his secret, you seized the opportunity. You blackmailed him into becoming your personal homework and assignment writer, using his advanced knowledge to help you ace your classes. Jay’s attempts to navigate high school life while fulfilling his unexpected new role provided endless amusement and challenges for both of you.

﹙ ☁️ ﹚ ぃ ──── WHY WOULD YOU SHOW UP WHEN I MOVED ON?

WINDS CHANGE ☁︎

READ HERE

EX ! JAKE × EX ! AFAB READER

ANGST & SMUT !

It's been five years since you and Jake called it quits, each going your separate ways. Life seemed fine—until the dreaded wedding invitation arrives from an old friend. Reluctantly, you decide to attend, only to find Jake, your ex, waiting there like a storm on the horizon, ready to turn your calm into chaos. With unresolved feelings and past memories looming, the wedding becomes a battlefield of witty exchanges, accidental encounters, and a slow unraveling of what truly ended between you two. Are the winds of change blowing in favor of a second chance, or will they only serve to remind you why you broke up in the first place?

﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!

GET WELL SOON シ︎

READ HERE

RACER ! SUNGHOON × ORPHAN ! AFAB READER

MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, OVERALL FLUFF & CRACK !

You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.

﹙ 🦄 ﹚ ぃ ──── CAN'T YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BY YOURSELF?

LIKE PINK !

READ HERE

GUARDIAN ANGEL ! SUNOO × CLUMSY ! AFAB READER

FANTASY & PURE FLUFF !

You’ve always believed you were cursed with the "unlucky girl syndrome." From tripping on flat surfaces to losing your keys every other day, it seemed like misfortune followed you everywhere. But was it really a curse, or just bad luck? You never quite figured it out. When a guardian angel was sent from above, you hoped your luck would finally turn around. Instead, you got Sunoo—a messy, clumsy, and utterly unhelpful angel who seemed more like a walking disaster than a divine helper. All you could think of was asking God for a refund, because with Sunoo around, your life was about to get a lot more chaotic… and maybe a little brighter, too.

﹙ 🔥 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW A TRICK TOO!

SIZZLES OF HIM ᯾

READ HERE

CLASSMATE ! JUNGWON × AFAB ! READER

FANTASY ELEMENTS, MAGICAL AU & SMUT !

There was always something about your quiet, mysterious classmate Jungwon that piqued your curiosity. You couldn't quite put your finger on it—until the day you accidentally peeked into his room and saw him hovering mid-air, surrounded by sparks of electricity. It all made sense then; he wasn't just your average student. Little did he know, you were hiding a secret of your own—one that mirrored his in more ways than one. Two forces of nature, each with powers as different as night and day, destined to collide. As they say, opposites attract, but in your case, they might just ignite.

﹙ 🍫 ﹚ ぃ ──── THIS MIGHT SOUND CRAZY BUT TRUST ME IT'S TRUE!

TIED UP IN YOU !

READ HERE

PHONE GUY ! NIKI × STUDENT ! AFAB READER

CRACK (?), PURE FLUFF !

Niki was a good guy, no doubt about it. The only problem? He was your phone. How, exactly, did your phone transform into this strikingly handsome guy? It was baffling, frustrating, and, honestly, a bit overwhelming. Here you were, trying to navigate a world where your device had somehow become a charming, infuriatingly attractive human being. And to make matters worse, he was as stubborn and endearing as any person you'd ever met.

﹙ 🍒 ﹚ ぃ ──── THANK YOU FOR READING!

Sena’s note: I’m not sure when I'll finish these seven fics, but I hope it’s soon. I’m unsure if anyone will be interested, but this was a preview of what’s coming.

main masterlist.

[sincerelybubbles]

Could u please do a fanfic Y/n never had her first kiss and boyfriend, and Aaron hotchner is her first kiss and boyfriend and one with spencer reid if it isn't too much trouble thank u

Aaron can tell you're stressed on your first date. You know you're not hiding it well - rubbing sweaty hands down the front of your skirt and shifting in your seat.

Still, he smiles at you over the rim of his glass. He rests a large, warm palm on your leg and squeezes gently, bending to catch your eye as you talk.

Slowly, he soothes you in that way.

"I've never really done any of this before," you admitted, waving a hand between the two of you after accepting his offer for a date.

"I know," Aaron said, soft smile teasing you. "You haven't exactly hidden it well. I thought you were going to cry the first time I touched you."

"Oh god," you groaned, covering your face with your hands. Laughing, a quiet sound rumbling in his chest and chasing butterflies into your belly, Aaron tugged your hands away from your face by your forearms, not letting go as he pressed them against his belly.

"I don't mind."

If he didn't look so amused, so adoring, sitting next to you, you would be afraid that the sentiment has changed now that he's seeing just how truly awkward you are right now.

You met him at the park you take your dog and he takes Jack, slowly getting to know each other as your odd schedules aligned. The first time you noticed him, you thought he was handsome for a brief moment before returning your attention to your book. After that, you felt like you saw him every time you went to the park.

He introduced himself after a few chance encounters, sat next to you while you watched Jack and your dog playing together.

And, after weeks of syrupy-sweet flirting on his end and countless blushing fits from you, he's insisted that he sits next to you in the booth at dinner.

Once you manage to settle your heart, you find yourself truly enjoying your date.

Aaron doesn't talk about work. You know he's a profiler for the FBI but you don't know much beyond that.

He does talk about his team though.

Funny little stories about them ease you back into your usual routine, the pressures of the date forgotten after 20 minutes.

He walks you back to your apartment, hands linked and swaying between you two.

"Jack wants to know when we'll see you at the park again. He says he misses you but I think it's mostly a front to see the dog."

"They do really like each other," you admit. Smiling at your feet, matching your strides to his, you say, "Tell him we'll be there tomorrow?"

It's a not-so-subtle way of asking if he wants to see you again. You look up at him, eyes wide and smile wider. Unbeknownst to you, it takes Aaron's breath away. He nods slowly, subdued smile slowly growing warmer.

"Of course. Lunch after?" He asks, voice gentle in the night air. You nod slowly, looking away quickly to hide how excited the offer makes you.

"This is me," you say, motioning to your apartment complex. You both stop by the front door, toe to toe.

He leans forward, hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck. Slowly, he bends at the waist and blood rushes in your ears, overtaking every other sense as you wait for his kiss.

Instead of your mouth, though, his lips settle on your forehead. He lingers for a moment, smile obvious against your heated skin, before pulling away. He watches you for a moment, eyes liquid and warm, before tucking your hair behind your ear and whispering a, "goodbye."

ty for requesting!! sorry it's a little short, I still hope you enjoy <3

[akamitrani]

— Backstage Pass —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader (Pt.1?)

Warnings: Mild suggestive, flirting (and the massive amount of tension that comes with it), release of the tension, slow burn.

Summary: You manage to get backstage access to a Terrifier panel where David is present, you end up striking a conversation with him and one thing leads to another.

[A/N: Hi guys, this is my first ever published fanfic – Be kind ☠️ – Sorry if anything lol. Btw, I hope y'all like to read fr cuz this fanfic surely is for readers]

[ · · · ]

The low hum of the convention floor buzzed around you, but for the moment, it felt as though the world had quieted down. You stood backstage, just outside the makeshift white room where David was preparing for a panel at the horror convention. Your excitement of meeting the actor behind Art the Clown was palpable, it was the man himself – the warm, approachable, and genuine David

You had spent the better part of the day anxiously navigating your way through autograph lines, fan meet-and-greets and photo ops, but now, standing backstage, you had a rare chance to speak with him outside the chaos. You never expected an encounter like this but here you were, a quiet moment with the very man who had terrified and fascinated you all at once

David’s head peeked from behind the curtains, his bright blue eyes meeting yours – “Hey! You’re the one who was talking about makeup techniques earlier, right?” – his voice had a casual charm, free of any of the sinister vibes Art was known for

You nodded, a bit stunned that he’d even remembered you from earlier in the day – “I'm Y/N by the way... And yeah, I’m just starting to get into prosthetics, but I love how the horror community brings so many elements together”

He smiled, a grin that reached his eyes and softened the sharpness of his features – “Y/N. And oh I totally get that. There’s something about horror that feels like a puzzle, you know? Acting, makeup, lighting… everything needs to come together for the whole thing to work”

It felt like a small moment of mutual understanding, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his enthusiasm. Here was David, the man behind the terrifying clown, speaking with such openness.

“So...” – David said after a beat, his tone playful – “what’s your favorite kind of horror?”

“It’s a toss-up but I’d say psychological horror, something that messes with your mind, makes you question what’s real” – You said

He nodded thoughtfully, his expression turning serious for a moment – “Yeah, that kind of horror is powerful. But I have to admit, sometimes I miss just making people jump... It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure for me”

You laughed loud, the sound echoing through the quiet backstage space – “I bet! It’s a great feeling though, knowing you can make people react like that”

David’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint appearing – “Well... I think we’ve got some time for a little more talking, but it’s not going to be quieter once the panel starts, I'll eventually get busy... You’re sticking around, right?”

You hesitated, the pull of curiosity and excitement making you eager to continue the conversation – “Of course! After the panel, would you like to talk more? What about... Grabbing a drink?”

David raised an eyebrow, the playful smile tugging at his lips again – “Perfect, was just thinking the same thing. And I could definitely use a quiet moment away from the crowd... There's a nice café nearby, just behind the building”

You felt a jolt of anticipation. This was no longer just a fan encounter. The conversation had shifted from polite exchanges to something more personal, a subtle invitation hanging in the air

“Perfect!” – You replied, feeling your nerves melt away – “See you there then”

“I'll be there as soon as the panel is finished" – He replied

[ · · · ]

sorry but I don't have the patience

to write a 'in between' lol

You entered the café David mentioned about earlier, the ambiance was calm as expected. Dave was already there tucked in a corner booth, his eyes eventually meet yours and he sweetly waves at you. Walking in his direction you sat down, wasting no time to start chatting. David had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning slightly forward, completely engrossed in the story you were telling him

“And that’s when I realized..." – you laughed, glancing down in embarrassment – “I’d been talking to the director with fake blood still smeared all across my cheek!”

David chuckled – “You’d fit right in on a horror set with a story like that” – he said, tilting his head with that trademark playful smile – “Sounds like you were born for the genre”

You felt a warmth rise in your cheeks, not just from the flattery but from the way he looked at you — as if you two were the only people in the room. For someone who could be so chillingly silent in his role as Art, David had an openness and kindness that made you feel immediately at ease

Both of you shared another laugh, you noticed his fingers drumming gently against the ceramic cup, a little habit he seemed unaware of. The small, endearing detail felt so far removed from the menacing persona he played on screen. In that moment, you wondered how many people really got to see him this way, relaxed and unguarded

“So” – David said, breaking the silence – “I have to ask... why horror? Why would you willingly choose a field that involves blood, guts, and a thousand ways to terrify an audience?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering an answer – “I think it’s the honesty of it... Horror doesn’t hide from what people fear. It embraces it. And creating that… It’s almost like a dance between knowing what scares people and making them feel safe enough to face it. It’s–”

“Powerful” David finished for you, a look of understanding in his eyes – “Yeah. I think I know what you mean” – he paused – “That’s exactly what draws me to it. There’s something about the way people’s walls come down when they’re scared. You can see who they really are”

Your eyes met with his, a silence settled between you and him, charged with something unspoken. You felt a flutter of nervous excitement, this was David Howard Thornton, a master of horror, sharing his personal thoughts with you as if you were an old friend

“Hey-” – David’s voice softened, breaking the tension – “I just realized how late it’s getting. But honestly…” – He glanced down, almost shyly, before looking back up with a small grin – “I don't want this conversation to end just yet”

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, you feel your heart skip – “Me neither...”

He hesitated, then gave a casual shrug – “I have a bottle of wine back at my hotel...” – he said with a hint of playful mischief – “If you’re up for it, we could keep talking there... No pressure though — I promise I’m far less terrifying off the set”

You both laughed, but you felt a thrill run through your body. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but the invitation in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, left little room for doubt

“Well...” – you said, mirroring his grin – “as long as you leave the clown mask behind”

David let out a low, warm chuckle and reached out, his hand brushing against yours just briefly – “Deal.”

[ · · · ]

at the hotel

The elevator doors slid open, then shut with a soft thud – the hum of the machine filled the otherwise quiet space between you both. David stood closer, his presence palpable as the two of you ascended to the upper floors. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the subtle hint of his musky cologne, the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly

The tension from the café was still there – unspoken, but thick. You could both feel it in the air, like an electric charge that had been building ever since the moment you'd first exchanged words. But now, in this small quiet space, it was almost impossible to ignore

David caught your eye, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his mouth – “I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s nice to get away from the madness for a bit you know”

You nodded but you could feel your heart rate picking up, the proximity between you and him making your thoughts scatter – “Yeah, it’s… really nice” – your voice sounded quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he is standing, how his shoulder brushed against yours every so often

The elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at David’s floor, you both stepped out. David led the way to his room, his long strides confident, though there was a subtle energy about him – something different than the actor you’d seen on stage. The man before them now seemed grounded, a little more vulnerable, but still just as captivating

As you two reached the door, David turned to you with a quiet smile – “Make yourself at home” – he said, pushing the door open and holding it for you to enter. The room was cozy, warmly lit

You stepped in, the scent of fresh linen and something faintly musky lingering in the air, his cologne you thought. You took a moment to glance around but David was already moving toward the small bar area by the window, pouring two glasses of wine

“Care for something?” – he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes

“Sure, why not?” – You replied, voice a little breathless. It was hard to focus on anything other than the man before you, the way he moved, how effortlessly he carried himself. It was a strange mix of charm and allure, the kind of presence that seemed to draw people in without effort

David handed you the glass, his fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. His touch lingered, and you both looked up at the same time, locking eyes. There was something in his gaze – soft yet intense.

“Cheers” – he murmured lifting his own glass, clinking your drinks together

The conversation flowed easily at first, light and casual, but the air felt heavier now. David shifted slightly, moving a little closer as he leaned against the back of a chair, eyes never leaving yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite.

You set your drink down on the table, feeling a quiet tension building – “You know... I never thought I’d end up in a hotel room with someone like you”

David raised an eyebrow – “Someone like me?”

You laughed softly, a little nervous – “Yeah, someone so… different from Art”

David’s smile deepened, and he moved a fraction closer – “I think I’m a little more like Art than you realize” – he teased, there was a softness in his voice and a hint of something else, something that wasn’t just playful

“I don’t know…” – your voice faltering for a moment – “M-maybe you’re right”

David didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze darkened just slightly, his focus never wavering. He stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the best way

“You know Y/N” he said quietly, almost a whisper – “I’m glad you stayed”

[···]

The silence between you both thickened, hanging in the air. David's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as though he was considering something. Drawn to the warmth of his presence, you got closer. David didn't move away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, giving you space to decide what to do next. A quiet hunger in the way he looked at you.

“I dont want to rush this” – David said softly, voice low and deliberate – “But, I can't pretend I'm not completely drawn to you”

You reached up, fingers brushing against his arm, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. David inhaled sharply, his body tensing just a bit at the contact.

“Are you sure?” – he whispered, his hand reached out, fingers barely grazing the edge of your wrist. You nodded, voice barely above a breath – “Yeah, I'm sure.”

David's hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb grazing the curve of your jaw – savoring every second. David's face was so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first. His hands slid down, pulling you closer. He grabs your waist hard and you accidentally let out a small moan... That's when he finally kisses you, letting out a low whimper himself. The kiss gets deeper, sucking and biting. You respond instinctively, fingers threading through his gray hair, drawing him in as the kiss became more urgent, more desperate.

You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, foreheads resting against each other and trying to collect yourselves. This had been building all night, ready to break.

“You're incredible” – David murmured, his voice thick with desire

You met his gaze – “I can say the same about you”

“I've wanted this all night” – He confessed

David's hands slid down your back, guiding you firmly towards him, towards his thighs. Now straddling him, your fingers tightened in his hair as his hands moved, exploring the curves of your waist, savoring every detail about it. His hands slid down your dress, up your thighs and finally resting on the hem of your panties... His eyes pledged for yours, for assurance – You nodded

“You're not going to regret this” he whispered