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requiemforthepoets · 16 days ago

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ain’t nothing like an asian wedding! ⟢ LN4

part two of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part three

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!asian!reader

SUMMARY: you and lando just wanted to make the most of your singapore trip before heading off to the UK, but it seems like everything descended into series of unfortunate events. though maybe, this is also a way to get lando be acquainted with everyone that may or may not drive your whole family crazy and singapore’s social elites on a daily basis.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, google translated chinese, mentions of gutted fish, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, minor public indecency (not main characters), mentions of marriage & grandchild, mean/bully characters, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 18k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! i hope you are all having a very wonderful holidays! so i have decided to post the part 2 of ‘stickwitu’, ask and you shall receive! lolz but i love crazy rich asians so much and i just can’t let go of this kind of crossover (?). i had decided to chop off this one to three parts, with 20k max of word count since i wanna get it all out there. this one is open for taglist as well since there will be a part 3 of this, so just comment if you wanna be tagged hehe. your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺 hope you’ll enjoy this second part! <3

The early return was unplanned but felt necessary after everything that happened at Araminta’s bachelorette party. The atmosphere among the girls was tense, full of subtle jabs and veiled competition that you and Rachel simply were not in the mood to tolerate any longer.

On the second day, when you got the chance, over breakfast, you leaned over to Rachel and whispered your plan. She hesitated at first, unsure if Araminta would even believe it, but eventually nodded in agreement, trusting you to handle the situation.

You approached Araminta just before the midday activities, adopting a concerned tone as you told her that Rachel was not really feeling well. You explained how she had been feeling faint and a bit queasy since the night before but had been trying to push through. Araminta’s face immediately fell into worry, and she reached out to Rachel, who played her part perfectly, adding a weak smile and saying she just needed rest.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured, holding Araminta’s hand. “I really wanted to stay, but I think it’s better if I head back to the city.”

Araminta turned to you, her concern for Rachel deepened. “Do you need me to come with you? I don't want you both traveling alone if she’s not well.”

You shook your head, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “Absolutely not. Minty, this is your bachelorette party, and you shouldn’t leave everyone behind. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

It took some convincing, but eventually, Araminta relented. She hugged you both tightly, telling Rachel to rest and recover, that she’ll be seeing you both on the wedding day. As you left the island, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the lie, but the overwhelming relief of leaving outweighed it.

The flight back to the city was quiet at first, the two of you decompressing from the tension of the past day. Rachel let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we pulled that off. I feel terrible lying to her, though.”

You sighed, leaning back into the plush seat. “I know. But honestly, that crowd was unbearable. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. I owe you one.” Rachel smiled gratefully at you.

Once you landed, the two of you decided to make the most of the unexpected free day. You took her to some of your favorite spots in Singapore, then introduced her to local dishes and hidden gems around the city. From the bustling hawker centers to the serene gardens, you wanted her to see more than just the usual tourist spots.

“You weren’t kidding when you said Singapore is magical,” she said as she admired the view from Marina Bay Sands.

“It’s home,” you replied with a small smile. “And now you’ve seen a little piece of it.”

By the time you dropped her off at the hotel, it was late, the city lights twinkling against the dark sky. As you hugged her goodbye, Rachel whispered, “thanks again for today. I really needed this.”

“You’re very welcome, and hey, if anyone asks, you’re still recovering from that ‘terrible stomach bug.’”

Your family driver was already waiting as you stepped out of the hotel. You gave Rachel one last wave before sliding into the car, sinking into the leather seat as the city blurred past the window. The relief of being home and away from the chaos of the island was evident, and for the first time in days, you felt at ease.

The house was quiet as you stepped inside, but your mind was already racing with the thought of seeing Lando. The faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft creak of the floor beneath your feet were the only sounds accompanying you as you called out his name. No response.

You wandered from room to room, checking the living room, kitchen, even the study, but there was no sign of him. Then, as you approached the sliding glass doors leading to the patio, you saw him sitting there, phone in hand, smiling and laughing as he talked to someone on facetime.

Lando’s gaze shifted towards the door as you slid it open, and his face lit up when he saw you. He motioned for you to come over, his smile growing even more brighter. You made your way to him, the cool evening breeze brushing against your skin.

As you reached him, you wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, and he returned the kiss, deeper and more deliberate. When you pulled away slightly, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of surprise.

“You’re back early,” he murmured softly, his thumb grazing your hip.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you said, glancing toward the phone in his hand. It was that you noticed the familiar face on the screen, Max. “Hi, Max,” you greeted warmly.

“Hey, you,” Max replied with a grin, leaning closer to the camera. “Back already? Thought you were off on some wild bachelorette adventure?”

You laughed softly. “Something like that. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you guys. How have you been? And Pietra? I can’t wait to catch up when we're in the UK for Christmas.”

Max chuckled. “We’re good. Pietra’s already planning the whole holiday—dinner menus, decorations, everything. You’ll have to let her drag you into the chaos.”

Lando shifted slightly, pulling you down onto his lap, his hand resting on your waist as he held his phone with the other. You settled against him, his fingers idly tracing shapes on your side while you continued chatting with Max.

“She doesn’t have to drag me. I’m ready for it,” you replied, smiling. “Tell her to save me a spot in the kitchen, I’m good at taste-testing.”

“I’ll pass that on,” Max and Lando shared a laugh, but then Max’s expression softened. “Honestly though, it’s good seeing you hoth happy. Pietra and I were just talking about how happy you’ve made this muppet. But you know, we were skeptical at first.”

“Oh, I remember,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Something about expecting me to be snobby?”

Max laughed, holding both his hands up in defense. “Hey, it’s not everyday that someone from your background walks into our lives. But you proved us wrong pretty quickly. You’re as down-to-earth as they come, and more importantly, you make little Lando happy. That’s all we care about.”

Your gaze shifted to Lando, whose thumb was tracing idle patterns on your side, a content smile resting on his face. “Well, he makes me happy too,” you said softly.

Max smiled. “Good. That’s all that matters. Anyway, I’ll let you two catch up. Don’t keep him up too late.”

You laughed, nodding. “I’ll make sure he gets some sleep. See you soon, Max.”

“See you soon,” he replied, before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, Lando set his phone down and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice low and earnest.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, leaning into him, the weight of the past few days melting away in his embrace.

The evening air was cool and crisp as you sat comfortably on Lando’s lap, the soft hum of distant city noise blending with the quiet rustle of leaves. His arm rested securely around your waist while his other hand lazily drummed against the armrest of the chair. He tilted his head slightly to look at you, his expression soft but curious.

“So,” he began, voice low and easy, “why are you back early? I thought you had a few more days of bachelorette shenanigans left.”

You let out a small sigh, glancing at the darkened sky before turning your gaze back to him. “It’s a long story,” you said, trying to suppress the frustration that the memory brought up.

Lando’s brows lifted slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time and I’m not going anywhere,” he teased, tone light as he tightened his arm around you.

You laughed softly before settling deeper into his embrace. “Okay, so Rachel traveled with Minty and the other girls ahead of me to Samsara, right? I had to leave later because of a meeting, so I got there after everyone else.”

Lando nodded, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, silently encouraging you to continue.

“When I arrived at the villa,” you said, voice dropping slightly, “I saw Rachel speed-walking back from the spa. She was just wearing her robe, and she looked…off. Like she was about to cry, so I went to her and asked what happened, but she didn’t answer me right away. She just kept walking, looking like she wanted to disappear.”

His expression shifted to one of concern, his brows furrowing as he listened intently.

“I followed her back to the villa she was staying,” you continued, tone growing more serious. “And that’s when we saw a huge gutted fish on her bed, with pink lipstick scrawled across the glass window that said, catch this, you gold-digging bitch.”

Lando’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his jaw tensing. “What the hell?” he muttered, his voice edged with disbelief.

“I know,” you said, exhaling sharply at the memory. “I wanted to call security right then and there, but Rachel stopped me—she didn’t want to make a scene. She was so humiliated, Lan. You could see it all over her face.”

He shook his head, voice low. “That’s fucking awful. Who even does something like that?”

“Oh, I know exactly who’s capable of pulling this kind of stunt,” you said scoffing, tone sharp with certainty. “Francesca Shaw. That little bitch.”

“Who’s Francesca Shaw?” Lando asked in curiosity.

You tilted your head, letting out a dry laugh. “She’s Nadine Shaw’s daughter, one of Auntie Eleanor’s closest friends. Francesca used to be an heiress to the Shaw Foods fortune, but her grandfather cut her off completely from the will after waking up from coma. Guess grandpa Shaw didn’t like how little miss two-faced was spending the family money.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “So, she’s broke now?”

“Eh, pretty much,” you said. “And before you ask, yes, she’s also Nicky’s ex. They dated briefly years ago, but it didn’t go anywhere because Nicky didn’t like how her attitude began to change for the worse. Francesca clearly thought she still had shot, but when Rachel came into the picture, that dream was practically over. She’s been a bitter bitch ever since.”

Lando leaned back slightly, grip still firm on your waist. “So, she’s trying to ruin things for them all because of jealousy?”

“Not just jealousy,” you corrected. “Envy. She’s spent her whole life in circles like ours, and now that she’s lost her position, she’s desperate to claw her way back in. She probably sees Rachel as a threat, someone she thinks doesn’t belong.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “That’s pathetic. I can’t believe someone would go that far.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But Rachel didn’t want to make waves, especially not at Minty’s party. It wasn’t the time or place, and honestly, I just wanted to get her out of there. I wasn’t going to let Rachel stay there a second longer, so I told her to act like she was sick, and we left. The toxicity is just too much.”

Lando’s eyes scanned your face, then pressed a soft kiss to your temple, voice filled with reassurance. “You did the right thing. I’m glad that you were there for her.”

You gave him a small smile, “I just couldn’t stand by and let Francesca get to her. Rachel doesn’t deserve any of the shit they’re throwing to her at all.”

“Neither of you do,” Lando said firmly. “But I’m glad you’re back.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your body ease slightly as you settled back into his embrace, the weight of the day beginning to dissipate.

The next day, you and Lando found yourselves back at your Ah Ma’s estate, where everyone was gathered in the big, spacious dining room that was only reserved for the family. The air was warm with the aroma of fresh dough and seasoned fillings, as half a dozen maids moved seamlessly, rolling small balls of dough into flat circles and forming minced meat into dozens of uniform, expertly shaped balls.

You were seated beside Nick, with Lando on your other side. While this was not Lando’s first time making dumplings, you often found yourself teaching him the technique whenever you were in Monaco. It had become a little tradition between the two of you as well, and you always made sure to leave him with a stack of freshly prepared dumplings to store in his freezer before you fly back to New York.

Lando had a knack for making dumplings by now, though you couldn’t always trust him with all the cooking in general, especially after the time you learned through Max’s stream that he had been running on no sleep for twenty-six hours, eaten out-of-date food, and spent his break before the Las Vegas GP playing call of duty. Dumplings, at least, were something he could handle—trusting not to burn his own kitchen down.

A maid carried a tray of the minced meat balls to the center of the room, where your mother and other family members—Nick, Rachel, Oliver, and your Aunties Alix and Eleanor, were all gathered around a large table. They worked busily, folding dumplings with swift, practiced hands and placing them neatly into stacked bamboo steamers.

This was a cherished family tradition, and your Aunties led the effort with the ease of many years of experience, their hands moving expertly while they kept up a lively flow of conversation. The hum of chatter filled the dining room, blending perfectly with the rhythmic movements of the dumpling-making process.

Your Auntie Eleanor carefully inspected the tray of folded dumplings and gave a satisfactory nod of approval, her sharp eye ensuring every piece was up to standard. Meanwhile, your mother glanced at the dozen trays already filled, her expression betraying a mix of alarm and disbelief.

“This is all too much,” your Auntie Alix remarked, shaking her head as she folded another dumpling with her precise fingers. “We’re only hosting a rehearsal dinner, not feeding an entire army.”

Your Auntie Eleanor countered almost immediately, her tone firm yet practical. “It is better that it’s too much than too little. Imagine people saying we’re stingy, that’s much worse.”

On the other side of the table, Nick was patiently teaching Rachel how to fold her first dumpling. He held the thin dumpling dough in his hand, placed a small ball of minced meat in the center, and carefully folded the edges, sealing it closed with practiced ease.

“It’s like tucking in a baby,” Nick explained, glancing at Rachel with a smile.

Rachel’s face lit up at the analogy. “That’s so cute,” she said, then added with mock horror, “and then you eat the baby.”

Her comment sent everyone into fits of laughter. Then Oliver, always quick to join in on the fun, leaned forward and added his own take on how to fold a dumpling.

“Grand Auntie Mabel taught me that folding dumplings is like getting botox,” he said, picking up dumpling dough. “The filling is the botox, and the wrapper is the face. You pinch it here and here, and voilà! You now have a flawless face.”

The whole table erupted with laughter again, and Rachel, shaking her head at the humor, asked, “did you all learn how to make dumplings when you were kids?”

You turned to her and nodded, folding another dumpling as you replied, “we didn’t exactly have a choice, it was mandatory.”

Then your mother chimed in from across the table, her voice carrying a mix of pride and amusement. “We taught all of you so that you’ll all understand the blood, sweat, and tears it took to raise and feed you monkeys.” she said, folding her dumpling expertly and placing it on the tray.

Your Auntie Alix nodded in agreement with your mother. “Not like the ang-mohs, microwaving everything for their children. No wonder, when their parents grow old, they send them to the old folks’ home.”

Lando turned to you, asking silently that only the two of you could hear, “babe, what’s ang-mohs?”

“Oh, it’s a colloquial expression used to refer to Caucasians or Westerners.” you replied as Lando nodded.

“Exactly. That’s what Ah Ma always says, if we don’t pass down traditions like this, they slowly disappear.” your Auntie Eleanor chimed in, tone firm.

You snickered, rolling your eyes playfully as you murmured loud enough with the intent for everyone to hear, “well, God forbid that we lose the ancient Chinese tradition of guilting your children.”

“Honestly, learning how to make these dumplings is totally worth it. I remember back when I was little, Mom used to wait for me after school with a basket of fresh dumplings.” Nick added, voice softened at the memory, and your Auntie Eleanor smiled, corners of her mouth tugging upward in quiet nostalgia.

“幸運嘅男孩!” (lucky boy!) your Auntie Alix said.

You turned to your mother and teased, “how come I never got after-school dumplings?”

Before your mother could muster out a reply, Oliver had beat her to it, smirking as he quipped, “well, probably because Auntie Elizabeth was busy having an after-school microdermabrasion.”

Your mother gasped, mock-scolding him in rapid Cantonese. “你真系个叻嘅屁股！如果你嘅祖父仲在生，佢會直接將你踢到下周.” (you’re such a smart-ass! if your grandfather were still alive, he’d kick you straight into next week) with a quick flick of her wrist, your mother threw a piece of dumpling dough at Oliver, which hit his shirt with a soft plop.

“Auntie!” Oliver looked down at the dough stuck to his chest, brushing it off with an exaggerated pout. “This is Dolce, you know.”

Laugher rippled through the room again, the air filled with warmth, teasing, and the familiar comfort of family banter.

Your Auntie Alix turned to Rachel, her expression curious yet kind. “Rachel, do you speak Cantonese?”

Rachel shook her head, smiling politely. “No, I don’t,” she admitted, then quickly added, “but it’s so great seeing your family bond like this.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Oliver, all of you caught slightly off guard by her statement, except Nick. It was not something you really thought about, it was just how things were.

Rachel seemed to sense everyone’s confusion and explained further, “growing up, it was just me and my Mom. We didn’t have a big family like yours, this is really special.”

“We’re glad that you appreciate it,” Oliver said softly. “You’re right, we’re lucky to have this.”

Your mother and Auntie Alix both smiled, their postures relaxing just a little. Your Auntie Alix even murmured, “it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it.”

Rachel, emboldened by the shift in mood, turned her attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had been largely quiet, methodically folding dumplings with precision. Her gaze fell on the large emerald ring your Auntie Eleanor was wearing, glinting under the soft light as she carefully placed a dumpling into a bamboo steamer.

“That ring is very stunning, Auntie Eleanor,” Rachel said, voice genuinely admiring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You paused mid-fold, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you, his eyes widening slightly. The conversation from the other night before leaving for Samsara immediately surfaced in your mind.

Your mother and Auntie Alix both turned to look at your Auntie Eleanor, their expressions carefully neutral as they waited to see how she would respond. Your Auntie Eleanor looked genuinely surprised, her delicate hands momentarily pausing their rhythmic folding of dumplings.

“This ring,” she began, glancing at the emerald on her finger, “was made by my husband, Nick’s father, when he proposed to me.”

Rachel’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s really amazing. Did he design it himself?”

She gave a small node, movements deliberate as she reshmed folding another dumpling. “He did. He wanted it to be one of a kind.”

“That’s incredible! Where did you two meet?” Rachel's eyes lit up with curiosity, leaning slightly forward.

Nick jumped in, tone light and proud. “They met at Cambridge, both are studying law.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn't know you were a lawyer.” she said, admiration apparent.

Your Auntie Eleanor resumed folding, her expression calm but firm. “I didn’t finish,” she clarified. “When we got married, I chose to withdraw from university.”

Rachel blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry…”

Noticing the slight tension that was slowly forming, your Auntie Eleanor elaborated, voice steady as she carefully sealed another dumpling.

“I made that decision to help my husband run his business and to raise a family. To me, that was a privilege,” she glanced at Rachel, her gaze sharp yet polite. “But to some others, it might seem old-fashioned.”

Rachel hesitated, not really sure of how to respond, but before she could say anything, your Auntie Eleanor continued.

“It’s nice of you that you appreciate this,” she said, gesturing to the room that was filled with chattering and dumpling-making. “Everyone together, contributing, creating something. But I want you to fully understand that all of this doesn’t happen by accident or with the snap of a finger. It’s because we’ve always prioritized family above all else.”

Her voice took on a slightly sharper edge, though still calm. “Sometimes, that means letting go of personal ambitions for the greater good. It’s a lesson I learned early on and one I hope will never be forgotten.”

A very heavy awkward silence settled over the table. You felt Lando’s hand subtly intertwining your fingers under the table, as you glanced at Rachel. Her smile faltered slightly, and her posture stiffened as though she was not entirely sure how to respond.

Your mother and Auntie Alix remained silent, both just looking at their dumplings, minding their own business, their expressions natural but tense. You knew they were traditional in their own ways, yet far more accepting than your Auntie Eleanor. They were not going to intervene, but their discomfort was apparent.

Rachel finally nodded, voice quiet but steady. “I see. Thank you for sharing that, Auntie Eleanor,” she said, offering a faint smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Then, the dining room doors opened with a soft creak, and your Ah Ma entered with her Thai maids following closely behind, their presence as graceful and composed as always. She was wearing a beautiful silk blouse in shades of soft jade, with her posture upright and regal despite her old age. Your Ah Ma’s presence immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room, dissolving the lingering tension.

Everyone rose to their feet, a chorus of respectful greetings filling the space. You and Lando followed closely behind Nick and Rachel as you walked toward her, hand firmly clasping Lando’s.

Your Ah Ma’s face lit up when her gaze fell on Lando. “Ah, Lan Lan!” she exclaimed, voice warm and filled with genuine affection. “I’m happy to see you again. Tell me, has your dumpling folding improved since the last time?”

Lando smiled, bowing his head slightly in respect. “I think so, Ah Ma,” he replied, voice steady but tinged with amusement. “But you’ll have to judge for yourself.”

Nick stepped forward, taking your Ah Ma’s arm gently, and you mirrored his action on her other side. Her smile widened as she turned to Nick, patting his hand affectionately. “我很高興你帶瑞秋來了.” (i’m so glad you brought rachel) she said, voice kind but observant.

Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes landed on Rachel, who stood politely beside Nick. She scrutinized her face for a moment, her expression contemplative before breaking into a small smile. “在白天，我可以清楚地看到她。非常漂亮的臉蛋.” (ah, in the daylight, i can see her clearly. very nice-looking face)

Rachel’s lips parted slightly, unsure how to react, but she eventually nodded and smiled, choosing to take it as a compliment. “謝謝阿媽.” (thank you, ah ma) she said, in a respectful tone.

With Nick and you guiding her, your Ah Ma walked toward her seat at the head of the table. When you reached the chair, Lando quickly stepped forward, pulling it out for her with fluid motion. Your Ah Ma gave Lando an approving nod before settling into the seat, her movements deliberate but elegant.

Once your Ah Ma was seated, she gestured with a delicate wave of her hand. “坐下，你們所有人.” (sit down, all of you) she instructed, tone commanding but not harsh.

Oliver leaned back slightly and chimed in, tone light and teasing. “We’re almost finished, Ah Ma. Just a few more baskets left.”

“Good, good,” she said, a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

While your Ah Ma was observing everyone, her gaze swept over the trays of folded dumplings, her discerning eyes pausing on a particular set of dumplings that stood out. Without any hesitation, she gestured toward the batch and turned to your Auntie Eleanor.

“埃莉諾，你做了這個批次嗎?” (eleanor, did you make this batch?) her tone was sharp, but not unkind.

You Auntie Eleanor straightened slightly, nodding with a subtle air of pride. “是的，阿媽,” (yes, ah ma) she replied, voice composed but tinged with a hint of accomplishment.

Your Ah Ma’s eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned in for a closer look, inspecting the dumplings with the same scrutiny she might give to a priceless piece of jade. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and she tilted her head, her words carrying a weight of blunt honesty.

”他們看起來不太好,” (they don’t look very good) she remarked, tone in a matter-of-fact but leaving little room for dispute. “你失去了你的觸摸,埃莉諾.” (you’ve lost your touch, eleanor)

The room seemed to pause momentarily, the faintest ripple of tension spreading across the table. You glanced at Rachel, who sat stiffly, her expression carefully neutral, clearly unsure how to react to the sudden critique.

You turned to Lando, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, leaning slightly toward you as he whispered, “what did Ah Ma say?”

Lowering your voice, you translated quickly but gently, “Ah Ma said the dumplings don’t look good, and that Auntie Eleanor has lost her touch.”

Lando made a face, and though he made no comment, the slight twitch of his lips suggested he was trying not to laugh. You gave him a soft nudge under the table, silently reminding him to keep a straight face.

Even with your Ah Ma’s comment, your Auntie Eleanor maintained her composure, her lips tightening as she focused on folding another dumpling, pretending as though the comment did not bother her at all. But still, you knew that everyone at the table heard everything, and no one was really surprised by your Ah Ma’s brutal honesty.

As the final dumplings were folded and placed neatly into the bamboo steamers, Rachel excused herself, standing from her seat with a polite smile. “I’m just going to the restroom,” she said softly, tone light.

Nick immediately offered, “I'll come with you.”

Rachel just shook her head gently, declining with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I can find my way.”

With that, she turned and walked off, navigating through the hallways of the estate, leaving the rest of you to finish arranging the trays.

Meanwhile, your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes scanned the remaining dumplings, her attention landing on the ones Lando had folded. Despite her age, her vision remained sharp as ever, and she leaned forward slightly, inspecting his work. A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“這些很漂亮,” (these are beautiful) she said, nodding approvingly.

Lando lit up at the compliment—well, he didn’t really understand what your Ah Ma had said, but based on her reaction, it’s a positive one. His cheeks colored faintly as he looked at you for a moment, seeking your silent confirmation that he had done well.

Your Ah Ma then turned to you, tone warm but firm as she continued, “你教他很好,我的孫女。我可以看到他爲此付出的努力。你跟他幹得真不錯.” (you’ve taught him well, my granddaughter. I can see the effort he’s put into these. you really did a good job with him)

You smiled, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment of her praise, but before you could respond, her attention shifted back to Lando. Your Ah Ma’s expression softened, yet her words carried a note of earnestness.

“Lan Lan,” she began, “好好照顧自己，好好吃飯,” (take care of yourself, eat properly) she spoke slowly enough that he could understand the weight of her words even if he did not catch every meaning of it.

Your Ah Ma paused, gaze flicking back to you for a moment, before continuing. “I remember when my granddaughter came back here to Singapore after being in Monaco. She was so worried about you.”

Then she turned again to Lando, tone shifting slightly to a mock-scolding one, though her affection for him was evident. “She told me how you hadn’t slept for twenty-six hours and were eating expired food. How can you not take care of yourself?”

Lando ducked his head slightly, his smile sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.

Switching to Mandarin, she fired rapidly at Lando, though there was no malice in her tone. “你認爲僅僅因爲你年輕，你的身體會原諒一切嗎？不會的你很幸運，我的孫女飛到摩納哥爲你做飯.” (you think just because you’re young, your body will forgive everything? it won’t. you’re lucky my granddaughter flew to to monaco to cook for you)

You were trying not to laugh as you translated everything your Ah Ma said to him, and Lando nodded earnestly, voice quiet but sincere. “I know, Ah Ma. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Your Ah Ma turned to you with a knowing smile. “我什麼時候能指望你結婚?” (when can i expect you to get married?)

You froze on your seat, eyes widening in disbelief as he words hung in the air. You felt Lando’s hand tense slightly in yours under the table, though you were sure he hadn’t understood any of it.

“我想在我死之前見到我的曾孫們。我已經沒有多少年時間了.” (i want to see my great-grandchildren before i die. i don’t have that many years left) your Ah Ma continued.

The room erupted into laughter at your Ah Ma’s bluntness, a mix of amused chuckles and good-natured teasing. Even your mother, who rarely join on such jokes, could not help but wink at you across the table.

“Ah Ma,” you began, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words to appease her. “蘭多和我還年輕。他有一個非常忙碌的職業生涯，我們現在都專注於我們的目標.” (lando and i are still young. he has a very busy career, and we’re both focused on our goals right now)

“太年輕了？胡說八道！你們兩個都老了，有什麼目標？家庭是人生最重要的目標,” (too young? nonsense! you’re both old enough, and what goals? a family is the most important goal in life) she retorted, waving her hand in the air as if brushing aside your excuses.

She leaned slightly forward, her gaze fixed on Lando now, as if silently willing him to understand what she was saying. “我走之前要抱着我的曾孫,” (i need to hold my great-grandchild before i go) she reiterated, as though her insistence alone could make it happen.

Lando, who had been smiling politely, began to glance around the table, sensing that the laughter was at his expense but unable to piece together what was being said.

“What’s going on? What did Ah Ma say?” he said, leaning towards you.

Before you could think of a way to downplay it, Nick—ever the troublemaker, grinned wickedly and leaned over. “Oh, I’ll tell you,” he said, just loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Ah Ma’s asking when you’re getting married. She wants great-grandchildren before she dies.”

His jaw dropped slightly at what Nick said, cheeks already tinged pink. “What?” Lando stammered, glancing at you for confrontation.

The laughter just grew louder as Nick continued, “she’s serious too. She’s already planning your family timeline.”

You groaned inwardly, shooting Nick a sharp look that only made him smirk wider. Meanwhile, Lando’s blush deepend, spreading across his ear and down to his neck. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and lips twitching into an embarrassed smile.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, clearly flustered, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, leaning closer to whisper, “don’t worry, she just likes to tease. You’re doing great.”

Your Ah Ma smiled warmly at Lando, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening with the kind of affection reserved for those who had truly earned it. She placed her hands gently on the edge of the table, her gaze shifting between you and him as she began to speak again in Mandarin.

“我愛你這個年輕人,” (i love this young man for you) she said, tone resolute yet tender. “我等不及你們倆結婚的那一天了。當然，這必須在我死之前發生，但沒有壓力.” (i cannot wait for the day you both get married. of course, this must happen before i die, but no pressure)

The table chuckled softly at her words, though you could feel the weight of her underlying sincerity.

“我希望你們的關係最終會導致婚姻。它必須，我很高興是他。我認識你以前約會過的所有男孩，但沒有你介紹他們給我,” (i expect your relationship will lead to marriage in the end. it must, and I’m glad it’s him. i knew all the boys you dated before without you introducing them to me) she continued, tone sharpening lightly as she referred to your past. “他們都不值得。蘭多是。他是個好人，是個紳士。我看得出他讓你多麼高興.” (none of them were worthy. but lando is. he is a good man and a gentleman. i can see how happy he makes you)

Her gaze lingered on Lando, eyes bright with approval. “你選的不錯,” (you chose well) she said firmly, her words almost carrying the weight of a blessing.

You glanced at your mother, who was watching the exchange quietly with a soft smile. When your eyes met, she gave you a small nod, as if to echo your Ah Ma’s sentiments. Your heart swelled, knowing that this was not just about Lando being accepted by your family, it was about him being fully embraced in a way that rarely happened in a family as traditional as yours.

“我們的家庭一直重視傳統的重要性，在我們自己的背景，我們自己的文化中結婚。這就是讓我們堅強的原因。但有時，當心髒看到什麼是正確的時，必須做出例外.” (our family has always valued the importance of tradition, of marrying within our own background, our own culture. it is what keeps us strong. but sometimes, exceptions must be made when the heart sees what is right) your Ah Ma’s eyes softened further as she looked at you. “你已經看到了什麼是正確的。我相信你的選擇。他會給你帶來快樂，你也會給他帶來同樣的快樂.” (and you have seen what’s right. i trust your choice. he will bring you happiness, and you will bring him the same)

Lando, though unable to follow the Mandarin, seemed to understand the atmosphere and the sentiment. He offered a polite smile, his hand tightening slightly around yours under the table.

“你知道，你是第一個正式向我介紹這樣一個人的人。這不是一件小事。它表明了對我們家庭的尊重，它表明你是認真的.” (you know, you are the first to formally introduce someone to me like this. it is no small thing. it shows respect for our family, and it shows me that you are serious) she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “這就是爲什麼我相信這將工作。你有我的祝福.” (that is why I trust this will work. you have my blessing)

You felt a lump in your throat as you glanced again at your mother, who was still smiling softly. There was no need for words, her expression said it all. The weight of family approval—especially your Ah Ma’s, was very significant. It was not just about you and Lando anymore, it was about the life you were building together, one that your family wholeheartedly supported.

You turned to Lando and gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand, a private gesture of reassurance for him. Though he could not understand the exact words, you knew he felt the love and acceptance in the room, just as deeply as you did.

While everyone was now immersed in a new topic of conversation, you can’t help but notice that Rachel was taking longer than usual. Rachel hasn’t gone back yet, the same as your Auntie Eleanor. Just before your Ah Ma would say his monologue about family tradition, your Auntie Eleanor had excused herself.

You glanced at the door Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor had exited through earlier, your eyes narrowed slightly in concern. This was a sprawling estate, one where getting turned around was almost inevitable for someone unfamiliar with its labyrinth of hallways and grand rooms. You couldn’t shake the sense that something was amiss.

Minutes passed. Neither Rachel nor your Auntie Eleanor had returned. Your unease deepened. So you leaned slightly toward Lando, your voice low enough not to disrupt the ongoing chatter around the table.

“I think I’ll go check on Rachel,” you murmured. “She’s taking a little too long, and Auntie Eleanor too.”

Lando nodded, his eyes flickering with slight concern. “You think everything’s okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I’ll find out.”

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, the faintest smile touching your lips despite the worry now bubbling beneath the surface. Straightening up, you excused yourself from the table, smoothing down your dress with a quick, practiced motion.

As you step away, the chatter behind you fades, replaced by the muted hum of distant sounds in the house, the faint clatter of dishes being cleared in the kitchen, soft shuffle of footsteps from maids moving about their duties.

You moved quietly, your steps deliberate as you followed the path Rachel had taken earlier. You knew this house like the back of your hand, each twist and turn etched into your memory, but even for you, it was easy to imagine how someone so unfamiliar might lose their way.

Your eyes scanned the hallways as you moved, the ornate decorations and rich furnishings familiar yet suddenly feeling imposing in the quiet. You still could not shake the thought that perhaps your Auntie Eleanor had cornered Rachel somewhere in the house, and the idea made your pace quicken.

The moment you approached the grand staircase, you approached quietly, you heard voices and stopped just short of the landing, hiding yourself out of sight behind the very heavy drapery of a nearby window. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on other people, but your concern for Rachel overpowered the voice of reason.

Peeking through the fabric, you saw them. Your Auntie Eleanor stood on the top step of the staircase, her posture sharp and commanding, while Rachel stood two steps below her, visibly uneasy. The height difference only seemed to amplify the imbalance in their dynamic—your Auntie Eleanor looking every bit like a hawk, and Rachel was the unwitting prey.

“I’m glad I found you,” your Auntie Eleanor began, voice low and calm, but laced with a kind of weight that felt impossible to ignore. “I felt…perhaps I was unfair to you earlier.”

Rachel immediately shook her head, her voice soft but apologetic. “No, no, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m really sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t offend me, Rachel,” she said quietly, almost too quietly, as though she were weighing each word before releasing it. “But since we’re already here, I feel it’s only fair to share something with you. Something that I don’t often talk about.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, voice barely above whisper.

“The emerald ring,” she began, lifting her hand slightly to glance at the emerald on her finger, “had been customized by my husband, Philip, because Ah Ma didn’t want to give him the family ring.”

“She…refused?” Rachel was clearly surprised.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave a small, humorless smile, the corner of her lips barely turning upward. “She didn’t think I was worthy of it. Didn’t think I was worthy of Philip.”

At that, you felt your breath catch. This was new information, something you had never heard before. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them, even as guilt tugged at you for listening in.

“Why would she think that?” Rachel’s voice was cautious, tentative.

Your Auntie Eleanor’s expression hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Because I didn’t come from the right family. I didn’t have the proper connections, and I was not what Ah Ma envisioned for his eldest son. To her, I was inadequate. Not a suitable wife for the future head of the family.”

Rachel looked stunned, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I…I didn’t know.”

“No, of course, you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “It’s not the kind of thing people would discuss so openly, and why would they? It’s already humiliating to admit that you weren’t the first choice.”

Rachel’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out of her mouth.

“I wasn’t even the second choice. You’re Ah Ma wanted someone else entirely, someone from a family with status and wealth that matched ours. But Philip, he chose me.”

From your hiding spot, you could see the faint sheer in your Auntie Eleanor’s eyes, though her expression remained resolute. You felt your stomach tighten. This was far more personal than the surface-level gossip you and your mother often indulge in about your Auntie Eleanor.

Rachel seemed to struggle to find the right response. “I think that’s very brave of you, to have gone through that.”

“Brave?” she echoed, almost as though testing the word on her tongue. “Perhaps, or perhaps I simply had no choice but to endure it. That’s what women like me are expected to do. Endure. Sometimes, there were days when I wondered if I would ever measure up.”

Another pause filled the air, heavy and suffocating. You glanced back toward the hallway that leads to the dining room, where laughter and conversation continued, oblivious to the tension unfolding right outside.

Your Auntie Eleanor looked down at Rachel, her tone softening just slightly. “I don’t say this to make you uncomfortable, Rachel. I say it because you remind me of someone I once was, a young woman trying to find her place in a family with traditions that can feel suffocating at times. But here’s the thing.”

“To belong here,” your Auntie Eleanor said quietly, “you must learn when to bend and when to stand firm, and above all, you must understand that family will always come first before passion, before dreams. It’s not easy, but it’s the way it is.”

Her words lingered in the air, cutting deeper than anything you had expected. You tightened your grip on the drapery, heart thudding in your chest.

“But Rachel,” she said softly, almost gently, as she took a slow step closer to her. “Having been through it all myself, I can tell you this much…you will never be enough.”

The words hung in the air, deceptively gently, yet sharp enough to pierce. Rachel was eviscerated, as your Auntie Eleanor draws back, placid and calm, as if they were talking about the weather. Her hand lightly touched Rachel’s arm, almost a contradictory gesture to the blow she had just delivered.

“We should head back, I wouldn’t want Nick to worry.” your Auntie Eleanor’s tone did not falter, nor did her gaze waver. She slowly began descending the stairs.

You’re still hidden—more like frozen in place. You watched as Rachel’s expression crumbled ever so slightly, her face a mixture of hurt and confusion, though she tried valiantly to hold her composure. You felt a pang in your chest for her, but before you could decide whether to step out, you felt a presence approaching from behind.

You turned your head quickly, startled to see Lando walking towards you. His lips were already parting, likely to ask what you were doing or what was taking you so long, but you reacted instinctively. You brought a finger to your lips in a sharp shushing motion, then darted towards him as quietly as possible, pressing a hand gently over his mouth before he could make a sound.

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he obeyed your silent command, his wide eyes flickering between you and the staircase. You both froze as the unmistakable sound of your Auntie Eleanor’s heels began clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, growing louder with each step.

Peeking back around the corner just enough, your Auntie Eleanor was already headed your way, her expression calm and composed, never even looking back at Rachel, who remained standing frozen in place.

Without any second thought, you grabbed Lando’s hand firmly and began pulling him back down the hall, away from the grand staircase. His confusion deepened, but he did not resist, allowing you to guide him. You stopped just short of the door, turning to face him, you placed a hand on his chest and pressed a little to keep him from moving any further. Lando tilted his head slightly, silently asking for an explanation, but you shook your head.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you whispered firmly, voice barely audible. “When we’re home.”

Lando frowned slightly but nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he squeezed your hand gently. You exhaled, releasing the tension in your shoulders, and took a moment to steady yourself. Lacing your fingers together, you took one more deep breath, and walked back into the dining room with Lando by your side.

You plastered on a casual smile, even as your thoughts raced, determined to keep up the act for now.

Later that evening, you were now back to the safety and comfort of your home. You and Lando were now settled into the bed, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Lando was lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head, while his other arm rested lightly on your arm. The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his face as you propped yourself up on your elbow, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Okay, here’s the tea,” you began softly, keeping your voice low in the stillness of the room.

Lando turned his head to look at you, his brows knitting slightly. “What’s the tea?”

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before recounting everything you had overheard between Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor by the grand staircase. You spoke carefully, detailing the conversation, voice growing more serious as you described your Auntie Eleanor’s sharp words, her admission about the family ring, and the way she had undermined Rachel. Lando listened intently, his gaze never leaving yours, expression shifting from concern to quiet disbelief as you continued.

“And then,” you said, voice dropping even lower, “she told Rachel she would never be enough. I just couldn’t believe it, honestly. It was so cruel.”

“That’s awful,” he said firmly. “I can’t imagine how Rachel must’ve felt when she heard that. She must’ve been gutted—no pun intended.”

You chuckled, then suddenly feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “I wanted to step in, but I didn’t know how without actually making it worse. Then I saw you coming,” you paused, sighing. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Lando reached out, taking your hands in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “It’s not your fault,” he said reassuringly. “Your Auntie Eleanor has her own set of issues. But Rachel seems strong, I’m sure she’ll handle it.”

You nodded, though the worry lingered in your chest. “I just hope my whole family can be as welcoming to Rachel as they’ve been to you. She deserves that. Nick deserves that.”

“Your family has been incredible to me,” he said. “Your Ah Ma, your Mom, even your Auntie Alix, they’ve all made me feel like I belong, even though I’m not from the same background—traditionally, as you. That means everything to me. It’s rare to find that kind of acceptance.”

You felt your chest warm at his words. “I’m so happy they’ve accepted you,” you murmured. “It makes me love them even more, knowing they see how amazing you are.”

He chuckled lightly, ears turning red at your compliment. “Well,” Lando said, tone turning playful, “Ah Ma did say she expects a grandchild, so I guess I’m officially part of the family now.”

You laughed softly, then tension from the earlier conversation easing slightly. But as you rested your head against his chest, you whispered, “I just hope Rachel gets that chance too. To feel what we have with my family.”

Lando pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice gentle as he said, “she will, it might take time, but your family loves deeply. They’ll come around, and if not, well, Nick and Rachel would always have us. That’s a pretty good start, don’t you think?”

You nodded. “But hey,”

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking at the ceiling aimlessly.

“I was thinking,” you started, “tomorrow’s our last free day before Colin and Araminta’s wedding. I was wondering if it’s okay with you if I spend it with Rachel. I feel like she could use some company, and I’d love to catch up with her one-on-one.”

Lando’s lips curved into a small smile as he nodded. “Of course, love. You don’t need to ask, and I think that’s a great idea.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to leave you feeling bored or anything.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, take your time. I can keep myself busy.”

At that, you looked at him with curiosity. “Oh? What’s your plan for the day?”

Lando grinned, “actually, I was thinking of hitting up your Dad for a few rounds of golf. He told me during Ah Ma’s dinner party to let him know anytime I wanted to play, so I figured I’d take him up on that offer.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the thought of Lando and your father on the golf course together. “That sounds perfect. I think he’d love that.”

“It’ll be nice to spend some time with him, and,” he added with a playful grin, “it’ll give me a chance to show him I’ve been practicing my swing.”

You chuckled, “well, don’t let him win too easily, or else he’ll never let you live it down.”

Lando laughed along with you, then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Go spend the day with Rachel,” he said warmly. “I’ll be fine, and later, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

“Deal,” you said with a grin.

The warm scent of roasted coffee filled the air as you and Rachel sat across from each other at the small patio table. The sunlight filtered gently through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the table between your cups of coffee. Rachel stirred her latte absentmindedly, her eyes occasionally drifting to the street beyond before meeting yours.

“I’m really glad you agreed to meet with me,” you began, voice steady but soft.

Rachel offered a small smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “Of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after everything.”

You took a deep breath, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “I wanted to talk because I owe you an apology. For everything.”

She tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing. But she let you continue speaking.

“I’m sorry for how you were treated at the dinner party by my family,” you continued, gazing at her earnestly. “Especially by my Auntie Eleanor. I know she was cruel, and I won’t make any excuses for her just because she’s family. You didn’t deserve that.”

Rachel let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned back in her chair. “Thank you for saying that, it truly means a lot.”

There was a brief pause before you added, “and I need to come clean about something.”

“I overheard everything Auntie Eleanor said to you by the staircase,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands for a moment before looking back at her. “It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, I swear. I was going to get something from the car, and I happened to pass by.”

She studied you for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’m not even surprised you overheard. She wasn’t exactly trying to whisper.”

You gave a small, rueful smile. “Still, I should have stepped in sooner. I hate that she made you feel the way you did.”

Rachel’s grip on her coffee cup tightened briefly before she let out a small, humorless laugh. “It was pretty intense, I’ve got to say,” she admitted. “I mean, I felt like I was going to cry and puke all at once.”

The two of you exchange a glance before breaking into laughter. The sound was a relief, breaking the lingering tension like the first warm breeze after a storm.

“Well,” you said. “I bet if you tell her that you’d leave Nick for a million of dollars, she’d write that check on the spot.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst into laughter again, this time louder and freer. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, grinning. “It’s a pretty normal thing to do here. A million-dollar breakup is just another Tuesday.”

Rachel shook her head, still laughing, and took a sip of her latte. “That’s terrible.”

“Maybe it is,” you smiled and shrugged. “But I know my Auntie Eleanor.”

She then set her coffee cup down, fingers fiddling with the edge of her napkin as her expression shifted something akin to serious.

“You know, I just…I don’t even know what to do anymore. Whether I will tell Nick everything or not,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I can see how much Nick practically worships his Mom. I mean, it’s like she can do no wrong in his eyes.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “I fully understand that,” you said carefully, tone gently. “It’s common, especially with Chinese sons. They hold their mothers on a very high pedestal, and it’s not just cultural, it’s ingrained, passed down through generations. Mothers are revered, respected almost to a fault.”

Rachel let out a small, defeated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So what am I supposed to do? Compete with that?”

You shook your head, giving her a smile. “No, you don’t need to compete with anyone. Look, on the bright side of all things, Ah Ma loves you. Did you notice how she complimented you yesterday? That’s pretty big.”

Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought back, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She did, didn’t she? I was not really sure what to make of it at first, but I guess that was her way of showing approval.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Let Auntie Eleanor stew in her own bitterness if she wants to. She can hate you all day long or even her whole life if that’s what she’s determined to do.”

“That’s…comforting?” she raised an eyebrow, her smile wavering.

“Just let Auntie Eleanor be, she has nothing against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.” you chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, intrigued but unsure.

You gestured gently with your hand, voice steady but light. “At the end of the day, it’s not really about Auntie Eleanor. It’s about what Ah Ma thinks, and in this family, her opinion carries the most weight, and she’s already decided that she likes you. Auntie Eleanor might throw tantrums and make her snide comments, but she can’t overturn the foundation of how this family works. What Ah Ma says, goes.”

Rachel sat back, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. “So, you’re saying that I don’t need to fight back? Just let her do her thing?”

You nodded. “Exactly. She’s not the one you’re trying to win over, and frankly, she doesn’t hold the power she thinks she does. As long as Ah Ma’s around and on your side, you’re practically untouchable.”

“You make it sound so simple.” she let out a soft laugh, her tension finally easing.

“It’s not simple,” you admitted with a small shrug, “but it’s the truth. You’re a part of this family now, Rachel—whether they like it or not, and you’ve already got the most important ally you could ask for.”

Rachel’s smile grew warmer, and for the first time, she looked truly at ease. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed to hear that.”

The midday sun cast long shadows over the manicured fairways of Sentosa Golf Club. Lando steadied his swing, aiming for the flag ahead. Your father stood a few paces behind, watching his stance with an appraising eye. The gentle rustling of the trees and occasional chirping of birds provided the only background noise. Lando took the shot—clean, low drive that rolled smoothly onto the green.

“Good shot,” your father remarked, nodding in approval as they walked toward the cart together.

“Thank you,” Lando replied, brushing his hands against his shorts.

As they drove to the next hole, your father leaned back slightly, gaze fixed ahead. “So, Lando,” your father began, his tone casual. “What are your plans?”

Lando glanced at him, slightly startled by the abruptness of the question. “Plans, sir? You mean with golf? Or…generally?”

Your father chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, no. Not with golf, I meant your plans for the future. It’s a broad question, I know, but I’m curious.”

He straightened. “Oh, well…I’m focused on my career right now, of course. Racing tends to keep me pretty busy, but I try to balance things as best as I can.”

Your father nodded as they both stepped out of the cart. He let a few moments pass before continuing, voice taking on a more serious tone. “When my wife came back from her mother’s estate last night, she mentioned something to me over dinner.”

Lando tilted his head, curious. “What is it?”

“She said that Ah Ma gave you and my daughter her approval,” your father said, eyes steady on Lando. “Ah Ma hopes your relationship will end in marriage someday.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement, or just how straightforward your father is. He shifted his weight slightly, unsure of how to respond to your father.

Your father, noticing his hesitation, offered a small smile. “Don’t worry, Lando. I’m not here to pressure or scare you away. But I thought it might be important for you to understand something about how everything goes on around here.”

“In our culture,” your father explained as he placed the golf ball on the tee, “relationships are viewed differently than in the West. They’re not just about love or companionship, they’re built on sacrifice, duty, and responsibility. When you commit to someone, you’re committing to the entirety of it all—even to the family. It’s a partnership that demands effort and selflessness.”

“Now,” your father took his shot—a smooth, powerful drive that sent the ball soaring down the fairway. He straightened and turned back to Lando, resting the driver on his shoulder. “I’m not saying this to intimidate you. It’s far from it. I know how much my daughter cares for you, and from what I’ve seen, you care for her just as much. But I want to make sure you understand what this means to us—our family and her. It’s not just about dating or having fun. It’s about building a life together.”

Lando swallowed, feeling the weight of your father’s words. “I…I get that, sir. I really do, and I want you to know that I take our relationship seriously. She’s,” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s the most important person in my life. I may not have everything figured out yet, but I’m fully committed to her. I want to make her happy and support her in every way I can.”

Your father studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good to hear, Lando. You’re a good man, and that’s all I needed to know.”

Lando exhaled softly, relieved but still thoughtful. Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s see if you can make this shot. I’m one up on you, and I don’t plan on losing today.”

”We’ll see about that, sir.” Lando grinned.

The two of them had just finished their round and were sitting in the shaded patio area of the clubhouse, sipping on cold drinks. Your father leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.

“You know, back in her teens, she was quite the handful.” your father began, voice carrying an edge of humor.

Lando turned to him, intrigued but slightly nervous. “Oh?”

Your father nodded, a sly smile on his face. “She used to escape the house and date boys behind our backs. Thought she was clever about it too.”

Lando’s lips twitched into a smile, imagining you as a teenager, trying to outsmart your parents. “Really? I can’t imagine her sneaking around like that.”

“Oh, she was good,” your father said, in a playful tone. “She never introduced us to those boys, but we always knew who they were. We made it our business to know. Still, we never made a fuss, we figured she’d grow out of it—and she did.”

He just smiles as your father tells these little snippets of anecdotes of your life that you had never told Lando before. Lando just kept silent, and continued listening to your father.

“So when she introduced you to us, we were shocked to be honest.” your father laughed, a deeper, more genuine sound. “It was the first time she brought someone home. That was our first indication that this was serious, different from anything she’d had before.”

“To tell you the truth,” your father continued, tone shifting to something more reflective. “We always thought she’d end up seriously dating one of the sons from our family’s business partners, since that’s how these things tend to go. But looking at it now, we’re thankful that it’s you.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard. “Thankful? Why’s that?”

Your father leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Because those boys, they have big, fragile egos. Pampered from birth, they’ve never had to work for anything, and never had to learn humility. Trust me, there’s nothing worse than a man who can’t admit his faults.” he looked at Lando meaningfully. “You’re nothing like that, you’ve worked hard for everything you’ve achieved. You respect her, and that means a lot to us.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lando replied as he felt a warmth spread through his chest. “That really means a lot to me.”

Your father nodded, a small but approving smile on his face. “Just don’t let her outplay you on the course of life, Lando. She might be silent and reserved most of the time, but she’s competitive.”

Lando laughed. “Oh, I know. She’s already winning in a lot of ways.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” your father regarded him for a moment, then smiled. “Now, shall we see if they have any dessert worth trying here? Golf always leaves me craving something sweet.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” Lando chuckled.

The house was still dark when you arrived, a quiet stillness greeting you as you set your things down and flicked on the lights. After slipping into more comfortable clothes—a loose white shirt and soft shorts, you made your way to the kitchen.

You had informed Lando earlier that you had decided it would be steak night, so you tied your back and opened the fridge, pulling out the steak to defrost, then setting them on the counter before gathering ingredients for the side dishes. You peeled and chopped the potatoes, boiling them in a pot of salted water, and then turned your attention to the vegetables.

Then you sliced the carrots, zucchini, and bell peppers—the rhythm of chopping and preparing was soothing, you then drizzled them with olive oil, sprinkled them with salt and pepper, then slid the tray into the oven to roast.

By the time the vegetables were roasting and the potatoes were soft, the steaks were now finally defrosted. You began to season them generously with salt, pepper, and a hint of garlic powder, then heated a cast-iron skillet until it was searing hot. The steaks sizzled as they hit the pan, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of cooking meat.

While the steaks rested, you drained the potatoes and mashed them with butter, cream, and a touch of garlic. The creamy texture was perfect, and you set the pot aside before arranging everything on the plate.

Tonight, you wanted to dine outside by the pool deck, where the view of the city lights was nothing short of magical. Grabbing a couple stacks of plates and utensils, you stepped out to the deck and set the table. The air was cool, and the glow from the pool lights danced against the walls, creating a cozy ambiance.

Just as you returned to the kitchen to plate the food, you felt an arm wrapped around your waist and a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. Startled, you spun around to see Lando smiling down at you, hair slightly mussed from the day.

“You scared me!” you said with a laugh, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “It smells amazing in here.”

“So, how was your day with Dad?” you asked smiling, brushing a hand over his arm.

“It was good,” he replied. “Tiring, but good. I think I held my own.”

You smiled at that and patted his chest gently. “Go change into something comfortable and grab a bottle of wine from the rack, we’re eating outside by the pool deck.”

“On it,” Lando said with a quick kiss to your temple before heading off to the bedroom.

You carried the plated food out to the pool deck, setting it down on the table. The city lights twinkled in the distance as you adjusted the chairs and smoothed the tablecloth. Lando soon joined you, a bottle of red wine in hand, dressed in a simple shirt and joggers.

“That looks incredible, love.” he said as he set the wine down and pulled out a chair for you.

“Why thank you,” you smiled, settling in on the chair. “Let’s eat.”

As the two of you began eating, the sound of clinking utensils and the occasional splash of water from the pool filled the serene evening air. You cut into your steak and took a bite before glancing at Lando, who was pouring wine into both of your glasses.

“So, as promised,” you began, setting your form down for a moment. “I wanted to tell you about the conversation that I had with Rachel earlier when I met up with her.”

Lando looked up from his glass, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How did it go by the way, how’s she holding up?”

”She’s trying, but she’s still shaken from what happened with Auntie Eleanor.” you replied. “She told me that she finds it hard to tell Nick everything because Nicky practically worships her Mom, because well, that’s how Chinese sons are—they think their Moms fart Chanel No.5.”

He froze for a moment, processing what you said, and then burst into laughter. Lando set down his wine glass as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

“That’s such an oddly specific comparison, babe. But honestly,” Lando said through his laughter, “it’s kind of perfect. I admit that at times, I notice that’s how Nick acts around Auntie Eleanor, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” you confirmed as you took another bite of your steam. “Rachel feels like Nick would never fully stand up to his mother and I get why she’s worried. But I explained to her how Auntie Eleanor is basically defenseless against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.”

“Filial piety?” Lando repeated, brows furrowing slightly.

You took a sip of wine, then set the glass down carefully before explaining. “It’s this concept in Chinese culture that emphasizes respect, obedience, and care for your parents and elders.” you continued, “it’s not just about being polite, it’s deeply rooted in our traditions and values. Sons, in particular, are expected to honor their mothers in every way possible. That’s why it sometimes feels like their Moms can do no wrong.”

Lando nodded slowly, taking in your words. “So it’s more than just a family dynamic—it’s cultural, like a duty?”

“Exactly,” you said with a small smile. “It’s why Rachel feels the way she does, but I told her that she shouldn’t worry too much. Ah Ma has taken a liking on her, and that’s already a gold sign. Auntie Eleanor might act high and mighty, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t really have a say in Ah Ma’s decisions.”

“Basically, you’re saying that Auntie Eleanor has no powers here?” he tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Not over Ah Ma, no. Hell no,” you said, chuckling. “And honestly, I think it’s about time someone stood up to Auntie Eleanor. Rachel is strong, even if she doesn’t always realize it, Nick and her will be fine. It’s just a matter of time she finds her own footing and Nick learning to balance his loyalty to Auntie Eleanor with his commitment to Rachel.”

Lando chuckled softly, raising his wine glass. “Well, here’s to Rachel and Nick figuring it out, and to Ah Ma—who clearly runs the show.”

You clink your wine glass against Lando’s with a grin. “Family is really fucking complicated, but hey, cheers to that.”

When Lando finished the last bite of his steak, he set his fork down with a satisfied sigh. “Speaking of Ah ma,” he began, swirling his wine glass, “you Dad told me something very interesting stuff today.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What did he say?”

Lando smiled, leaning back in his chair. “He mentioned how he knew that Ah Ma already gave us her blessing and that she’s expecting this relationship to end up in marriage.”

You froze mid-bite, fork hovering above your plate. “Wait,” you said slowly, “did Dad give you the talk?”

His grin widened, and before he could even answer, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Oh my fucking god, that’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled, voice muffled.

“It wasn’t bad,” Lando said laughing. “He was just laying it all out on me. Talking about how serious relationships are in your culture and how family values commitment. Honestly, I kind of expected it.”

You peaked through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Still,” you muttered, “he didn’t have to do that.”

Lando leaned forward, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, but that’s not all he told me.”

Your hands dropped from your face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What else did he say?”

He smirked. “Apparently, back then you had a rebellious streak. Sneaking out to go on dates with different boys, huh?”

You groaned, slumping back in your chair. “Nooo. He did not tell you that.”

“Oh, he did,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying himself. “And he said that they knew exactly who those boys were because they were keeping track.”

Your head dropped to the table with a dramatic thud. “Why does Dad always have the need to air my embarrassing phase like that,” you said, voice muffled against the table.

Lando laughed. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he reassured you.

Lifting your head, you frowned at him, still mortified. “Okay, but in my defense, I always had a feeling that they knew. Especially dad. I wasn’t exactly completely sure, you know? But now…” you sighed, gesturing at him. “Now I know that they know. Great.”

He reached across the table, fingers brushing against yours. “Is that why none of those boys ever made it past your family’s front door?”

“Yup,” you said, nodding. “Not a single one got far enough to meet my parents, I couldn’t really stand the thought of introducing someone who didn’t actually care about me at all.”

You continued, leaning back in your chair. “Along the way, I realized that they only wanted to be with me because of my family. They saw me as some kind of tool…I guess. Like being with me would give them status, connections, or some kind of benefit.”

Lando’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. “I can imagine how tough it must’ve been.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I just wanted genuine connections, but they just saw me as an opportunity. So, before things got messy, I was always the one who ended it first. That’s why none of them ever got through the door of my parent’s house, or let alone set foot on our estate. They weren’t worth it at all.”

Lando reached across the table, hand covering yours. “Well, for the record, I’m glad your Dad approves of me, and I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m here because of you, not anything else.” he then added, “I do hope that I’ve done a better job at proving I’m not one of those boys.”

You smiled, finger tightening around his. “You’re not even close. You’re nothing like them, Lan. You’ve made it more clear, that’s why you’re here now.”

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of your gown. The gown was breathtaking, every inch was meticulously crafted by Giambattista Valli himself. The subtle shimmer in the fabric caught the light as you moved, and you smiled, tracing your fingers over the discreet initials that had been embroidered near the hem—a personal touch that made the gown uniquely yours. Lando’s suit complemented you perfectly, a sharp, tailored masterpiece with matching initials of his name on the inner lapel.

Lando adjusted the cuffs on his crisp white dress shirt but fumbled slightly with the cuff links. Noticing his struggle, you stepped in closer, gently taking the cuff links from his hands.

“Here, babe, let me,” you said softly, deftly fastening the sleek gold links.

His eyes met yours, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, love. You always know how to save me, huh.”

“You’d manage eventually,” you replied with a teasing smile, your fingers lingering for a moment on his wrist. “But we can’t afford to be late.”

Just as you finished, a soft chime from your phone notified you of the arrival of the car. “The car's here,” you said, stepping back to grab your clutch.

Lando picked up his jacket, slipping it on before crossing the room to you. “Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

“Ready,” you confirmed, taking his arm as he led you to the door.

The car was waiting at the entrance, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. The chauffeur quickly stepped out, opening the door for you, and Lando helped you down the small steps, his hand steady at your back as you navigated the delicate heels you were wearing. He opened the car door, his free hand gently resting on yours as you lowered yourself into the plush interior.

“Careful,” he murmured, making sure you were settled before following after you.

Once he was seated beside you, the car pulled smoothly away, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. You glanced at the matching embroidery on your outfits, a quiet sense of anticipation washing over you as you looked ahead to the day’s events.

The car slowed to a stop in front of the First Methodist Church, the scene outside was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and steady buzz of voices. There was a long line of luxury vehicles stretched down the street, each one spilling out more high-profile guests—foreign dignitaries, government leaders, business tycoons, and a studded lineup of Asia’s brightest stars.

Crowds outside were a sea of media personnel, their cameras aimed and ready to capture every moment of what deemed Singapore’s wedding of the century, akin to Royal Asian Wedding. The chauffeur stepped out and swiftly opened Lando’s door. He exited gracefully, buttoning his tailored suit jacket before turning to offer you a hand. You placed your hand in his, and helped you out of the car.

The moment you fully got out of the car, the flash of the cameras intensified, different photographers yelling questions and calling your names. You paused beside Lando, your arm loosely looped through his, both of you offering calm, poised expressions for the cameras.

“This is a lot,” Lando murmured under his breath, leaning closer so only you could hear.

“Welcome to Singapore’s media circus,” you replied quietly, managing a polite smile as you stood in place for a few more seconds.

The attention was relentless. A few reporters called out to Lando directly, asking for interviews or comments, their voices cutting through the crowd. He shook his head subtly, lifting a hand to politely decline as the two of you turned to make your way towards the church entrance.

You glided across the red carpet, your hand still resting lightly on Lando’s arm. As you approached the grand doors, the tall, ornate arches of the church loomed above, intricate carvings catching the light. The media frenzy continues behind you, but you maintain your composure.

Then, as you entered the threshold, a familiar face came into view, one that is so familiar with you—Francesca Shaw. She stood just off the side, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if assessing everyone in attendance. Her pristine gold dress was undoubtedly designer, her hair styled to perfection.

Your expression shifted instantly, a smile vanishing into a deadpan look. Francesca caught your gaze for a moment, her lips twitching as if she might say something, but your firm expression was enough to make her quickly redirect her attention to something, or rather someone else.

Lando noticed the brief exchange as you both walked past her. “Who’s that?” he asked, voice low but curious.

You glanced at him. “Francesca Shaw,” you replied simply, keeping your tone neutral.

He furrowed his brows. “Should I know who she is? Friend of yours?”

“Fuck no,” you answered quickly. “She was the one that’s responsible for the gutted fish in Rachel’s bed during Minty’s bachelorette party.”

Lando blinked, steps faltering for just a moment. “Wait, that’s her?!”

“Mm-hmm,” you confirmed, leading him further into the church. “Best to steer clear. Nothing good comes from her.”

He nodded, expression tightening slightly as he glanced back toward Francesca. “Noted.”

As you and Lando stepped into the main part of the church, the sheer opulence of the space struck you in awe. The vaulted ceilings were adorned with intricate gold details, and the air was filled with soft strains of a live string quartet stationed discreetly in one corner. Every surface seemed to glisten, whether from the polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, or the hundreds of white orchids cascading over every available surface. It was evident that no expense had been spared—the grandeur practically screamed wealth and power.

Lando’s eyes scanned the space as he whistled low, “this is extravagant.”

You smiled, leaning slightly closer to him as you whispered back, “wait until you see the reception. This is just the warm-up.”

You and Lando moved further into the church, where you caught sight of your family by one of the pews. Your mother stood alongside your Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, their presence commanding attention as they chatted with a group of equally polished society wives. It was a familiar tableau—your aunts all clustered together, forming an impenetrable circle of sharp eyes and even more sharper tongues.

Predictably, your Auntie Eleanor seemed to be critiquing the whole setup. She gestured subtly towards the floral arrangements, her expression a mix of disapproval and thinly veiled judgement. While your Auntie Jacqueline, ever the pragmatist, seemed to be nodding in agreement, and your mother maintained her usual composed smile, occasionally offering diplomatic comments.

You and Lando approached them briefly, exchanging polite greetings. Your mother’s smile softened when she saw you, and she leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You look very lovely, my darling,” she said, before glancing at Lando and adding, “and the two of you together—perfection, as always!”

After a few moments of pleasantries, you had excused yourselves, knowing the four of them would stick together for the ceremony and be seated in the same pew.

You made your way to the second row, you noted that the first row had been reserved for the Khoos and Lees, with Colin and Araminta’s immediate families already seated. You scanned the room quickly but no sign of Rachel yet, though Nick was near the altar with Colin and the other groomsmen, laughing and chatting. You assumed Rachel must be somewhere nearby.

Upon reaching your seats, you and Lando slid into the second row, settling into the plush velvet cushions. Three rows behind you, your mother and aunts had taken their places, their polished presence unmistakable even without turning around.

You leaned towards Lando, lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “So, I heard from Auntie Alix,” you began, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, “that Colin and Minty’s family spent sixty-five million dollars on this wedding.”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, though he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Sixty-five?” he repeated under his breath.

You nodded, biting back a laugh as you added, “and it made me laugh because I heard Auntie Jacqueline said, ‘we’re Methodists, forty million is our maximum budget for a wedding like this.’”

That was enough to make Lando chuckle softly and shake his head in disbelief. “Forty million is the maximum?” he echoed, tone incredulous but amused.

You grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping your voice low. “Apparently, anything above that is considered excessive—even by our standards.”

Then, you turned around discreetly in your seat to scan the church again, searching for Rachel. It didn’t take long to spot her, she had just arrived and was being greeted warmly by Oliver by the entrance. She moved with a quiet confidence, her luminous presence immediately drawing attention. Heads all turning as she walked past, captivated by the stunning dress she wore—a rich light blue that complimented her complexion perfectly and subtly shimmered in the light.

Your aunts, seated a few rows behind you, were visibly taken aback. Auntie Eleanor, who rarely displays much reaction, looked momentarily stunned, her usual sharp expression softening into one of unguarded surprise. Your Auntie Alix leaned closer to whisper something to her, and Auntie Jacqueline adjusted her posture, almost as if reevaluating Rachel in that moment.

Your mother, however, was all warmth. You could see her beaming brightly at Rachel, her smile filled with genuine approval. You knew immediately what she was thinking, she completely adored the dress and the elegance Rachel exuded.

But something else caught your attention. Rachel glanced towards the pew where your mother and aunts were seated, but she didn’t move towards them. It was obvious she had not been invited to sit with them. Likely, they had made some excuses about how their pew was full, even though you could see there was space.

Rachel hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the room for an empty seat. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand and waved her over, her eyes lighting up when she saw you, and she made her way towards you. When she reached you, you immediately stood up and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You look absolutely incredible,” you whispered, meaning every word. You stepped back slightly to admire the dress. “That color on you, it’s just so perfect.”

Rachel smiled, her cheeks flushing just slightly. “Thank you,” she replied softly, clearly touched by the compliment.

You gestured to the space beside you. “Come, come. Sit with us,” you said, nodding toward the pew. “There’s plenty of room here.”

She hesitated for only a second before accepting. “Thank you,” she said, voice genuine.

Rachel slid into the pew beside you, and you could feel a subtle sense of relief in her presence as she settled into the seat. Lando leaned over slightly to greet Rachel with a polite nod and warm smile, and exchanged a quick look with him, silently acknowledging how significant this small act of kindness was, especially considering the dynamics at play.

Then, the murmur of the crowd faded into silence as Colin, Nick, and the four other groomsmen made their entrance alongside the pastor. Together, they formed an impeccable picture of elegance and charm, with their perfectly tailored suits catching the soft glow of the church lights. They walked with synchronized strides, confident yet there’s a reverent air about them, like a dashing pack.

Your attention drifted to Rachel, seated beside you, and the way her expression softened when her eyes found Nick. You caught the subtle shift in her demeanor as their gazes locked, a quiet exchange of affection that needed no words. There was something magnetic about the way they looked at each other, as though the entire room fell away for just a brief moment.

A hush of anticipation swept over the congregation as Kina Grannis took the stage by the live string quartet. Her voice rose delicately, the familiar strains of I Can’t Help Falling in Love filled the whole church with a dreamy, romantic air. The melody was sweet and tender, it struck a chord deep within, making the atmosphere impossibly more magical.

Two tiny figures appeared at the entrance—adorable flower girls, their tiny hands clasping wicker baskets as they scattered delicate petals along the aisle. They moved in a choreographed sweetness, bright smiles stealing the hearts of everyone in the room.

Behind them, toddled an equally charming ring bearer, clutching the pillow with seriousness that belied his young age. Each careful step he took earned a quiet chuckle from the crowd, his determination clear as he reached the altar. Nick crouched slightly, taking the ring pillow from the boy, and the playful high-five exchanged between them drew a ripple of soft laughter and smiles.

There was a collective gasp echoing through the church. Water began to flow, a gentle cascade spilling onto the aisle, shimmering as it caught the light. It trickled in perfect harmony, creating a luminous, rippling path that stretched from the entrance to the altar. The sound of water intertwined with the stillness of the music, holding everyone in awe.

The lights dimmed suddenly, and the soft flicker of long delicate stems with glowing tips spread through the crowd like fireflies. One by one, everyone in the congregation reached for the stems and held it aloft, their glittery illumination casting a celestial over the church, all eyes turning towards the entrance.

A group of bridesmaids stood poised, holding beautifully decorated large fronds that veiled what could only be Araminta. Their positioning was precise, deliberate, and graceful. With a choreographed motion, the bridesmaids slowly lifted the fronds, revealing Araminta, standing right next to her father. The moment was breathtaking—she radiated an ethereal elegance that made her appear almost otherworldly.

Araminta held her father’s hand as she gracefully stepped out of her towering heels. The hushed audience barely had a chance to react before she stepped forward, placing her bare feet onto the watery aisle. The music resumed, delicate yet triumphant, as she began her slow, graceful walk.

The bridesmaids followed closely behind her, their steps echoing her elegance, as the congregation swayed their glittery lights in unison. It was a scene out of a dream, a river of light and water that guided Araminta towards her future. From your seat, you could see Colin at the altar, his composed demeanor wavered, expression softening as he took in the sight of Araminta, eyes glistening with unshed tears, emotion written plainly on his face.

You didn’t exactly know what came over you, but as you sat there in the church, watching Colin and Araminta exchange glances filled with love and anticipation, a thought took root inside your mind. The entire wedding, its grandeur, intimacy, and the sense of two people stepping into forever had stirred something within you. It was not a matter of envy or longing for the spectacle itself, but it was the way Colin looked at Araminta—the way she smiled back at him, and the unspoken promise that passed between them.

Perhaps, selfishly, you found yourself imagining that kind of future for yourself. Not just marriage for the sake of it, but a marriage with Lando. The idea settled gently, not as a plan or something to be rushed, but as a hope—a quiet wish for someday. Though it was still too early now, you both were at the top of your careers, still growing individually and as a couple. A year of dating was only the beginning, and there was no need to rush, but the seed of the thought was already there, talking with surprising ease.

It made you genuinely happy to see Colin and Araminta standing at the altar. You had been an observer of their relationship from the beginning, a silent witness to the small and significant moments that had brought them to this day.

Growing up, Colin had been a near-constant presence in your family’s life, a fixture at every gathering and celebration. He was practically an honorary member of your family, and it felt like he belonged there just as much as anyone else. You had seen how Colin pined for Araminta, how he had talked Nick’s ear off about her, recounting every detail of their interactions with the kind of fervor only someone deeply in love could manage. Nick had confided that much to you during your conversations over the years, shaking his head fondly at how his best friend could turn any discussion into one about Araminta.

Your relationship with Nick has always been different from that with your other cousins. Despite the age gap, there was a closeness there that came naturally. Unlike many of your other cousins, who were either too competitive or too caught up in their own bubbles, Nick had always been kind, grounded, and someone you can rely on. Growing up, you often found yourself gravitating towards him, trusting him in ways you could not with the others.

So, seeing Colin—Nick’s best friend, your family’s honorary member, now finally standing with Araminta, the woman he had loved for so long, felt like a full circle of something extraordinary. It made you believe in the kind of love that could weather time and challenges, the kind of love that could one day be yours with Lando.

The reception took place at Gardens by the Bay, where the Botanical Gardens had been transformed into a scene straight out of fairytales. It was utterly breathtaking—every detail meticulously designed to create an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The iconic supertrees stretched overhead, illuminated with soft lights that shimmered in sync with the music. A Chinese big band played softly, filling the air with a nostalgic charm, while fireworks erupted in bursts of vibrant color against the dark night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the festivities.

Colin and Araminta were having their first dance at the center of it all, moving effortlessly in harmony. The wedding party stood loosely circled around them, watching the moment in admiration. You stood close to Lando, his arms loosely draped around your waist, holding you gently but securely. Chest pressed against your back as he swayed with you to the rhythm of the music, a silent echo of the couple’s dance.

Lando leaned in closer, voice low and intimate as he said, “you know, I didn’t really get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning today, baby.”

His words caught you slightly off guard, but the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with warmth. Before you could respond, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, lingering just long enough for his breath to tickle your skin.

“And this dress,” he added, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder now, “it’s beautiful. But it doesn’t even come close to how insanely beautiful you are.”

Your heart raced as Lando shifted, tilting your face gently towards his. His lips captured yours in a kiss, slow and tender, yet filled with a quiet intensity that made the world around you momentarily dissolve. When Lando pulled back, his eyes met yours, a glint of affection and something deeper reflecting in the warm light of the supertrees.

When Colin and Araminta’s first dance came to an end, the band seamlessly transitioned to a lively and upbeat tune. The atmosphere shifted immediately, with laughter bubbling through the crowd, and Araminta, radiant and full of energy, already had an outfit change, began beckoning guests onto the dance floor.

“Come on, come on!” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “The party isn’t going to dance itself!”

You and Lando exchanged a quick glance, a shared look of amusement and anticipation. Without any single hesitation, he took your hand gently, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Let’s go,” he said, tone light and teasing.

“Lan, babe, I don’t really—” you began, hesitating slightly, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“You’re with me,” he assured, grinning reassuringly. “I won’t let you look awkward, I promise.”

The music pulsed through the whole garden, and the dance floor was quickly filling with guests, each one letting loose in the joyful chaos of the celebration, singing along with the band. You had never considered yourself much of a dancer, the thought of dancing always made you self-conscious. Your movements felt stiff and unnatural, and the fear of looking out of place usually kept you from even trying. But with Lando, it was different.

Lando kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand, spinning you lightly to the rhythm of Wo Yao Ni De Ai. His energy was very contagious, movements all natural and easy, and he guided you effortlessly, making sure you felt comfortable.

“Just follow my lead,” he said, voice steady over the music. “And don’t think about it too much.”

You did as he said, allowing yourself to let go of the self-consciousness. You focused on him, and only him—Lando’s playful smile, the way his hands steadied you, the warmth of his presence. Soon, the tension that you’re feeling in your body eased, and you found yourself laughing as you moved to the beat.

“I told you you'd be fine,” Lando said, voice filled with a playful confidence.

“I still think I look very ridiculous,” you replied, laughter spilling out.

“You look amazing,” he countered without missing a beat.

The two of you moved seamlessly among the crowd, completely immersed in the music and the moment. Lando twirled you under his arm, making you laugh again as you stumbled slightly, but his steady hands caught you before you could lose balance.

As the music reached its end, he pulled you in closer. Lando’s movements slowed, the lively rhythm fading into the background as his gaze locked with yours. There was an intensity in his eyes, a soft, unspoken emotion that made you breath catch. Without a word, he leaned in, lips capturing yours in a kiss—gentle, tender, and filled with quiet passion that seemed to echo everything unsaid between you.

When he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips. “See? You’re a natural,” he teased, tone soft and warm.

You just rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The music had picked up again, and without hesitation, you two returned to the rhythm of the night, dancing together with an ease and happiness that made the rest of the world fade away, leaving you and Lando in a little bubble that you made yourself.

As the party went on, you and Lando continued swaying to the rhythm of the music, letting the night carry you in its revelry. The energy of the party was contagious, and you both were determined to make the most of it. The crowd around you was lively, a series of laughter and chatter blending into the music.

Suddenly, someone bumped into you, jostling you slightly. Turning to see who it was, you found yourself face-to-face with Rachel, who was looking very upset, her expression disoriented and distressed as she weaved through the throng of dancing guests.

“Rachel?” you called out, instinctively reaching out to her, your brows furrowing with concern.

Lando gently let go of your hand, his expression mirroring yours. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Rachel, however, did not respond. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze darting around as if trying to find something, or someone. Her pace was erratic and quickened as she moved further into the crowd.

You were about to follow her when a piercing scream cut through the music, causing heads to turn. There was laughter and the unmistakable hum of a crowd gathering, phones were raised in unison, their screens glowing as guests pointed toward something, or someone hidden behind the bushes near the edge of the garden.

Your stomach dropped as you and Lando turned to see what the commotion was about. Emerging from the bushes was half-naked Bernard Tai, his shirt already gone and his pants barely clinging to his hips. His movements were chaotic, clearly drunk, and he pawed at Kitty Pong, who struggled to pull herself away.

Kitty, the girlfriend of your cousin Alistair, looked utterly mortified. Her dress was disheveled, and her face was flushed with shame as she desperately tried to cover herself. Bernard, oblivious to the humiliation that they are now facing and radiating off of Kitty, stumbles toward her again, but she shoves him back.

The crowd wasn’t really helping. Instead of intervening, they just stood there, laughing, and some guests outright pointing and jeering, others filming the entire scene as Kitty managed to pull her dress up and flee from the scene, heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.

You felt a mix of shock and disgust twist in your stomach, gaze flicking between the fleeing Kitty and the drunken Bernard, who was now slumped against a nearby table, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the chaos he had caused. At Colin and Araminta’s wedding, nonetheless.

Lando shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath.

Though your attention snapped back to Rachel. She had managed to stop briefly during the commotion, her body all stiff and face unreadable as she watched the scene unfold.

“Rachel!” you called again, but by the time you stepped forward, she was already gone, melting into the crowd and disappearing from view.

A few moments later, Nick came running toward you and Lando, face flushed and breathing uneven. “Have you guys seen Rachel?” he asked urgently, eyes scanning the crowd as though hoping she might reappear.

You glanced back toward the direction Rachel had gone, your worry mounting. “She was just here, but—”

“She already left, mate.” Lando finished, voice somber.

Nick looked around frantically, but it was clear he was too late. Rachel was already nowhere to be found, and whatever had just unfolded seemed to mark the abrupt descent of what had been.

As the night wound down, you and Lando decided it was time to call it a day. The events of the wedding had been unforgettable, but the exhaustion was starting to creep in. Knowing that you only had one day left in Singapore before flying to the UK for Christmas, you both set out to find Colin and Araminta to thank them properly.

After weaving through the remaining guests hand in hand, you finally spotted the newlyweds near the dance floor, glowing with happiness as they spoke to family and friends. When you approached, Colin was the first to notice, greeting you and Lando with a wide smile.

“Hey, you two! Having a good time?” Colin asked, tone warm and genuine.

“A very amazing time,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you so much for inviting us. This was truly the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“Absolutely,” Lando added, nodding. “It was really incredible. Congratulations again to both of you.”

Araminta beamed, her hands resting lightly on Colin’s arm. “Thank you so much for coming. It means the world to us to have you here.”

“Though we wish we could’ve stayed longer,” you said, “but we’re flying back to the UK the day after tomorrow to spend Christmas with Lan’s family.”

Araminta’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s very wonderful! But before you go, we absolutely need a picture together.”

She glanced around and quickly called over a photographer, waving him toward your small group. “We need a picture of the four of us,” she told the photographer with a laugh.

The photographer positioned all of you, and Colin gently placed a hand on Lando’s shoulder while Araminta stood beside you, her arm lightly around your waist. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.

“Wait, wait,” Araminta said after the photographer stepped away. “We need one on your phone too!”

You quickly pulled out your phone, handing it to her so she could take the picture. She directed Colin to pull in a little closer so you could all fit on the frame. This time, the pose was more casual, with everyone leaning in and smiling brightly.

After the pictures were taken, Colin suddenly chimed in. “Oh, by the way, Harrison mentioned the other day that you’re moving to Monaco soon?”

You nodded. “That’s the plan. Everything’s set to go in a few weeks.”

“Then we’ll probably see you in Monaco soon!” Araminta said with a smile. “We’ve got a few trips planned early next year.”

“Definitely! Let us know when you’re coming,” Lando said. “We’ll take you around and catch up.”

“For sure, man! Absolutely.” Colin replied, grinning wide.

You and Lando hugged Colin and Araminta goodbye, exchanging heartfelt well wishes for their honeymoon and married life ahead. As you turned to leave, Araminta gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas!” she said happily.

“Merry Christmas!” you and Lando said in unison before heading off to find your mother.

Your mother was seated at a table, chatting animatedly with your Auntie Eleanor. When she saw you approach, she stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace.

“You two leaving already?” she asked, tone affectionate.

“We are,” you said softly. “But it was such a beautiful wedding. Everything was perfect.”

“I’m so glad you could be home,” she replied, smoothing a hand over your arm. “Have a safe flight to the UK, and please give my regards to Lando’s family.”

“We will,” you promised, hugging her tightly once more before stepping back. “Lando and I will be back for the New Year’s.”

Your mother stretched out her arms to Lando, giving him a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“Take good care of her, okay?” your mother reminded, as she smiled at Lando kindly.

“Always,” Lando replied with quiet sincerity.

When you and Lando finally walked through the door of your home, a deep sense of relief washed over you both. The quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos of the day, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you finally slipped off your heels by the entryway. Lando stretched his arms over his head, letting a low groan before giving you a small smile.

“Fucking finally,” he said, voice filled with exhaustion but tinged with amusement. “Home sweet home. That was…something, huh.”

You nodded, placing your clutch by the glass table. “Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

After settling down on the couch, you pulled out your phone and sent Rachel a quick text:

Hey, Rachel. I hope you’re okay. If you need anything or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.

You stared at the screen for a few moments before putting the phone down. There was a lot on your mind, but Rachel’s well-being was at the top of the list right now. Lando was already seated, leaning back against the cushions with his tie undone and his jacket draped over the armrest. He turned to you with a tired grin.

“That’s got to be the most entertaining wedding reception I’ve ever been to. Not wild, exactly, but definitely eventful. I mean—” he gestured vaguely with his hands. “What even was that? Who are those people?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You mean Bernard and Kitty?”

“Yeah.” Lando nodded.

You sighed deeply, not really knowing where to begin or how to start the conversation about Bernard and Kitty. “Bernard Tai is…well, where do I even fucking start with that guy? Let’s see…he’s the only son of Dato’ Tai Toh Lui and Carol Tai, an insanely wealthy family. The Tai Fortune is massive, and Bernad’s basically the heir to all of it. He’s a former classmate of Nick and Colin back in the day.”

“And?” Lando prompted, tilting his head.

“And he’s spoiled as fuck,” you said bluntly. “Like, obnoxiously spoiled. He’s been handed everything his entire life and spends his day burning through money on the most ridiculous shit. He lives for excess and has zero accountability for anything he does. Basically, to sum up all of it—he’s a walking disaster who somehow gets away with everything because of daddy’s money and his family’s influence.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by all of it. “Sounds like he’s a real charmer.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.” you hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And then there’s Ms. Kitty Pong.”

“She’s Alistair’s girlfriend, right?” Lando asked, recalling her name from earlier.

“That’s ex-girlfriend now,” you corrected. “Kitty’s…a real piece of work. She used to be a soap opera star who decided to pivot into climbing the social ladder. She’s been trying, well, desperately, to get into the higher social circles here, but that’s not really going well for her.”

You continued, “most people look down on her because they see her as a gold-digger, and honestly, they’re not really wrong. She's always relying on people like Oliver or Corinna Ko-Tung—Fiona’s cousin, to help her navigate these circles.”

Lando frowned slightly. “And Bernard?”

“Not much better, honestly,” you shrugged. “Yes, he’s a part of our circle, but no one takes him seriously because he’s…well, Bernard. After tonight? Him and Kitty just cemented themselves as gossip fodder for weeks, maybe months. What they pulled tonight at Colin and Minty’s wedding reception is only going to add fuel to the fire. Kitty’s already seen as an outsider, and now, people have an excuse to talk, ridicule, and ostracize her even more.”

He let out a low whistle, leaning his head back against the couch. “That’s rough. But honestly, I don’t get why they thought this, of all nights, was the right time to make a scene.”

You exhaled sharply, the frustration you had been holding back starting to bubble up. “Exactly. Colin and Minty’s wedding was supposed to be their moment. They’ve worked so hard to make it perfect, and then Bernard and Kitty come along and turn it into…that.”

Lando reaches over, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t let them ruin it for you. The wedding was still beautiful, and Colin and Minty looked so happy. That’s what matters, right?”

You nodded slowly, trying to let go of your irritation. “Yeah, you’re right. It's just…makes me mad, you know? They deserved better than that.”

They did,” Lando agreed, voice soft. “But it’s already over now, and you can’t control what other people do. All you can do now is focus on the good parts of the day, and trust me, there were a lot of those.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into him. “Thanks for the reminder. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lando pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

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benkeibear · 4 months ago

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『 Your Girlfriend 』

☼ synopsis: When Yuuji introduced his half brother to you, you didn't expect to end up between them the way you do but you're the last one to complain when you get to take Choso's virginity.

☼ characters: Choso, Yuuji

☼ wc: 4.2k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, threesome, virgin Choso, fingering, oral (reader giving and receiving), consent checks, cum eating, creampie, soft aftercare, mentions of breaking Choso's heart at the end

☼ notes: oh me oh my I finally finished this. It's wayyy longer than expected hehe || Thank you @semisgroupie for beta reading this! @kentophilia @kenpachisbrat thank you for letting me write this in chat and for hyping me up! || Taglist

When Yuuji first told you that his brother would come to live with the both of you, you weren't too impressed given that your place wasn't very big. However, all doubts washed away the moment you met him - Choso.

The man was slightly older than your boyfriend but just as pleasant to be around. Sure, he looked a little intimidating at first, quite the opposite of the man you live with, but his warm personality made up for it tenfold. Reminding yourself that your apartment wasn't big, you finished setting up the couch in your living room, a two-room apartment not leaving much more options but it was fine for Choso, who was just grateful to have a roof over his head while he looked for a new home.

Seeing him sit there on the couch that now resembled a bed, you couldn't help but stifle a small laugh. He looked like a soggy kitten in a cardboard box, ready to be picked up and taken to a warm and loving home. Perhaps it was his quiet nature whenever you were around, the puppy dog eyes he gave you when you spoke to him, or the fleeting glances he gave whenever he thought you weren't looking. Whatever it was, you enjoyed his presence at home, while Yuuji was head over heels that his two favorite people got along so well.

"You know he has a crush on you, right?" Yuuji asked with a smirk, his voice just above a whisper as you two stood in the comically small kitchen while Choso got the living room ready for movie night.

Closing the oven in which a mouthwatering pizza slowly started to become golden-brown, you shot your boyfriend a glare, eyes wide and mouth pressed to a thin line.

"Don't say that!" You hushed back, unsure if it was because you didn't want Choso to hear a conversation about him or because of the weird feeling these news brought.

You shouldn't like the fact that another man wanted you, let alone the brother of your boyfriend. Yet somehow your heart skipped a little beat upon the thought of not just someone - but the sweet Choso - having a little schoolboy crush on you. It made you feel giddy in all the wrong places.

"Why not? He told me himself, "the pink-haired man laughed amused, not feeling threatened or worried in the slightest since he knew you were loyal to a fault.

All you could do was shake your head, laughing it off uncomfortably as you got the pizza out of the oven. It looked perfect, really. The crust was thick and crisp, while the cheese was the perfect mix of gooey and toasted, a beautiful golden color. The way you were desperately trying to think of anything but the man sitting in your living room seemed pathetic, even to yourself.

"And what's the point of this conversation?" You asked, feigning annoyance as one hand moved to rest on your hip.

"Don't know. Maybe we can give him what he wants..." Yuuji dragged his words to build anticipation before finally continuing his sentence, trying to look for any reaction on your face, "you." Yuuji stated boldly as a smirk grew on his lips.

Could he feel how the heat shot up to your cheeks, or perhaps he heard the smallest gasp - or was it the way your pupils dilated that gave you away?

"I- what?" You asked, clearly at a loss of words. Yuuji has always been stating how he'd never survive seeing you with another guy, which is why he never wanted to have a threesome, so what changed?

"You heard me." He chuckled and pulled you closer, a boyish grin spreading across his handsome face when you tried to look everywhere but at him.

"Only if that's what you want, of course," he stated, making sure that you knew no one would ever pressure you into anything you weren't entirely certain of. It took you a moment to answer, your mind and heart arguing with one another over what would be the right thing to do, but Yuuji's lips kissing down from your cheek to your neck ripped you out of that train of thought.

"I've seen the way you look at him... and he's a good guy. I trust him with my life," Yuuji whispered against the soft skin of your neck, eliciting goosebumps.

"Plus," he started and you felt the hot breath of a chuckle follow before his next words came out, "He's a virgin."

You didn't mean for your eyes to lock with your boyfriends with such a hungry look in them, but your body reacted before your brain did and the pink-haired man could only laugh as a response before pecking your lips.

"I'll take that as a yes then?" He asked amused and grabbed the little pizza cutter, laughing to himself at how angry you were at him when he cut the pizza with a scissor last time.

"And you're sure that you want that? I wouldn't want you to see me as a cheater or... leave me over it." Your last words came out as a mumble, the fear eating away at your insides, but Yuuji was quick to react.

"I was the one who suggested it!" He quickly reassured you, the pizza cutter hitting the kitchen counter with a loud bang since he just dropped it mid-movement.

"We don't have to do this if you're not entirely sure, I would never pressure you or think any less if you say yes," he continued and a kiss on your forehead followed right after.

You were looking for reassurance in his gaze and he simply smiled at you with that sweet smile of his, a tiny dimple forming on each of his cheeks as his eyes grew soft. There was no malicious intent behind his offer, only sincerity without any sort of resentment or judgement.

"Yes. I think we could make him feel good," you whispered quite shy before hiding your face in the chest of your boyfriend, laughing to yourself as you shook your head slightly. It looks like you'd be sleeping with your boyfriend's brother tonight.

Neither Yuuji nor you brought the topic up during dinner, so you three were just devouring this pizza that looked far too delicious for its own good while watching a movie Choso picked. To be honest, you barely paid attention to the movie, your mind was busy with the thoughts of what would happen, unsure how to even initiate anything of that sort.

Hey Choso, wanna fuck me while your brother, my boyfriend, watches? you thought to yourself, your heart beating faster at the thought of Choso's reaction, but Yuuji saw the way your mind was racing with at least 100 miles per hour.

A single look from your lover was enough to calm you down, it screamed I got this, don't worry and you trusted his intuition, trying to even your breath and sort your thoughts. Still a little nervous, your boyfriend pulled you onto his lap, a stupid grin planted on his face when he rested his forehead against yours.

"Yes?" He whispered, giving you a chance to back out before anything starts, but you just nodded softly before his lips melted against yours in a passionate kiss.

The world around you slowed down before it stopped turning, your surroundings slowly disappearing as you closed your eyes and let yourself fall fully into the kiss. As your tongues were dancing, you entirely drowned out the fact that Choso was still sitting on the other end of the couch, as stiff as a board.

He tried, he really did try not to look over at you two making out, but it got increasingly harder when you whimpered into the kiss shortly after Yuujis hand slipped under your shirt. As a last ditch effort, the black-haired man cleared his throat, only for the both of you to whip your head in the direction of the noise - lips swollen from the kissing and your eyes glossed over with pleasure.

"W-would you mind taking that to your bedroom?" He asked almost shy, not wanting to sit around awkwardly while his brother pretty much fucked his girlfriend right next to him.

Yuuji gave you a knowing look before turning back to Choso while lifting your shirt over your head to leave you more vulnerable than before in just your pretty bra. You heard the way Choso gulped and averted his gaze, and your boyfriend spoke up to break the silence.

"Or you could join us?" He simply offered as one of his hands slowly raked up your ribcage, a needy look of yours now directed at Choso, who didn't know if this was a wet dream or reality.

"What?" His voice cracked, making it sound comically high pitched followed by a giggle of yours at how flustered he was.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked quite bold, trying to ignore the butterflies doing cartwheels in your stomach.

Choso could only nod in response, too scared this is just a prank you two are trying to pull off, so he embarrasses himself in front of you, but before he knew it, you were sitting on his lap with that honeyed smile of yours so close to his own face.

"I heard that you like me." Your voice traveled across his spine and caused every hair on his body to raise and he only nodded once again.

"Can you tell me if this is what you want? To make out with me?" You asked, guilt slowly forming in your chest because he was so unresponsive and resembled a deer in headlights more than a man who wanted to be with you.

"Is this okay? Can I... really?" He asked with a raspy voice, overflowing with insecurity.

Unsure of how to actually make him feel more secure, you placed his hands on your bare sides, a sweet smile on your lips as you kissed the corner of his lips.

"I can be all yours tonight, if that's what you want." Your words gave him the green light and that was all he needed to kiss you.

His kisses were much more gentle than his brothers, a lot less possessive and his hands held onto you like a ghosts, worried that you'd crumble if he actually held onto your curves. You simply let Choso explore the territory, not plunging your tongue into his mouth and forcing something when instead this was so soft and sweet. Your body shuddered when a second pair of hands started touching you, opening up your bra before raking down your spine, just to see you shudder again. Yuuji wanted to help you two move things forward but left it to you to take your bra off, which you did without hesitation prior to moving Choso's hands further up your body so they were now resting on your chest.

The black-haired man immediately started to grope the supple flesh of your tits, his tongue finally slipping past your lips to caress yours with a newfound confidence - A confidence you could clearly feel between his legs. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding into the bulge that formed in his pants, mewling sweetly when he gently played with your nipples.

You could feel your own slick starting to soil your panties, making them stick against your hot skin, so you carefully pushed Choso against the backrest of the couch, the both of you panting heavily.

"Looks like you made her want more," Yuuji teased his older brother as he helped you shimmy out of your pants, desperately trying to get rid of any layer that separated your wet cunt from him.

"Show him how wet you are, flower." Your boyfriend made you bend over to show your slick folds to his brother, a single digit of the younger man gliding through your folds, which made you gasp in surprise and pleasure.

"More," you begged when his finger left your needy cunt just as quick as it appeared, resulting in a sweet chuckle of his. He won't ever deny you your pleasure, but Choso was the one the spotlight was on tonight.

"I'll play a little with your pussy and you show him how good you can use your mouth," Yuuji mused and made you stand on all fours on the floor, your face resting on Choso's thigh, who eagerly pushed his pants down just enough to free his hard cock. Just as promised, you felt two slender fingers slip into your dripping wet entrance the moment you started drooling all over Choso's cock. It was a little longer than Yuuji’s but nowhere near as girthy. Your tongue darted out eagerly to lick from his balls to his tip before your lips wrapped around him and your head sunk down all the way.

Choso had to grip the cushions of the couch he was seated on the second your nose touched the stubble on his groin. "F-fuck, slow down, please,” the man begged for mercy, his virgin cock not used to pleasure provided by anything but his own hands or pillow, but his plea was met with a needy moan from you as Yuuji started to massage your sweet spot with his fingers. A shit-eating grin was all the black-haired man saw when he looked at Yuuji for help.

“Play nice, you're his first,” Yuuji reminded you with a chuckle, ignoring the way his own dick ached for a crumb of your attention, but he patiently waited for his turn.

With a frown you pulled away and gently kissed the pink tip of Choso's cock and swirled your tongue over it until his head fell onto the backrest, the sweetest moans filling the room alongside the squelching noises of your pussy. It was a sight you could certainly get used to, although you shouldn't even think about doing this again - especially not with your boyfriend's brother.

“Can I ride you?” You eventually ask boldly, craving to have him inside of you and it seemed like the feeling was mutual with the way his cock twitched at just the thought.

Your boyfriend slowly pulled his fingers from your core only to clean them with his tongue, caramel eyes looking right at yours as he did so, making the situation so much more intimate as you slowly climbed on top of the other man. Calloused hands were holding onto your hips with an iron grip and you could feel them tremble ever so slightly, which made you hesitate to sink down on him.

“Changed your mind?” You asked with a voice like honey, your soft lips kissing any trace of worry and insecurity away while making him feel like a god beneath your caress.

His hand reached down to line the bulbous tip up with your awaiting entrance, slowly guiding you down by the hips until you were fully seated on his cock. It felt so wrong but also just so divine to have another cock inside of you while your boyfriend slowly palmed himself through the fabric of his underwear as he watched your thighs shake and your lungs eagerly gasp for air. Your arms were slung around the man's neck, pulling him into your chest while you tried to regain your composure, but the size of him made it almost impossible for you to breathe, certain that he would bruise your cervix if he would thrust into you now, but you needed it, needed him to move. Choso, however, guided your hips, barely letting you bounce on top of him since he was close to bursting the moment you enveloped his cock with your tight heat.

“Don't you dare to cum inside. That's my girl,” Yuuji threatened his brother. Sure, he said he'd share, but the thought of another man filling you up and claiming you in that way made the jealousy bubble up. This was a side of your boyfriend you never even knew of because he wasn't the jealous type, but even the pure-hearted Yuuji had boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, which both of you respected - or at least tried to respect.

Choso carefully moved without ever pulling out to lay you on the couch. The image of you beneath him was a fantasy he fucked his hand to so many nights before and now it was reality, his hips mercilessly jerking against yours and his thrusts growing even sloppier than before. Long hair cascaded down to frame his face, but the moment you felt him twitch, you pushed against his chest, trying to get him out of the trance of fucking into you like an animal that was chasing his own high. It was almost too late - thick ropes of hot cum spurting right onto your cunt, coating your folds in ivory as some of it slowly slipped inside. It shouldn't have made you whimper like a bitch in heat, but the noise escaped your throat before you even realized it - and once you did, you were almost too embarrassed, perhaps a little scared to look at your boyfriend. Yuuji, however, chuckled at how quickly his brother came, caressing your cheek ever so gently despite the thin layer of sweat that slowly formed on your skin.

"You've done so well, flower. Do you think he should clean up the mess he made of my cute girlfriend?” He asked sickenly sweet, but a glare was set towards his brother, who looked completely fucked out with his hair disheveled and eyes half closed in pure bliss. Of course you nodded, loving the thought of another man licking up the mess he made of your cunt so your boyfriend could claim you properly. Choso barely registered the hand on the back of his head when he was pushed down between your thighs, instinctively lapping at your core and whimpering at the taste of your mixed fluids. It should disgust him, having his own cum on his tongue, but it tasted almost good mixed with your sweet nectar - and the fact that he got to eat out the woman of his dreams made his head spin and his arms hooked over your legs to bury his face further in your cunt. The man was skilled with his tongue despite it being his first time, he read your body language and the moment his cum was lapped up, he focused on the little nub, his tongue flicking your clit relentlessly until your hips bucked against his face helplessly.

“Enough” Yuuji moaned, his cock leaking precum as his hand wasn't good enough anymore. All your whines and moans made him lose his mind, so he urged his brother off of you to flip you around.

"Hmm, yes please, Yuu,” you moaned softly, begging for your boyfriend to finally have his turn with you. Your head was now resting on Choso’s trained thighs when Yuuji sunk into you, the stretch it provided had you spiraling towards your orgasm already.

The pace your lover set was relentless, hunger and the need to make sure you remember who you're with driving him as he pounded into you. Your entire body jolted with each thrust and you started to moan loudly, his name falling from your lips like a lewd prayer and your hands pawed at Choso’s thighs. The man was so spent after just one round, so he gently played with your hair while his younger brother made sure that his name is the only thing you remember at the end of this night. But his cock wanted more, slowly growing hard again and twitching against your face.

“Look at him. Show him your pretty face." Yuuji cooed and you did as you were told, teary eyes looking at your boyfriend's brother, some of his pre cum sticking to your cheek and glistening in the dim light. Both men were mesmerized by you as your orgasm washed over you, your body squirming and your head fell back into Choso’s lap, who used the opportunity to try to get you to suck him off again, addicted to the pleasure you provided.

Your entire world slowly faded away when your mouth sunk down onto Choso's pretty cock once again and in that moment you swore that nothing existed but the three of you, time passing in slow motion as the older brother thrust his hips upwards just in time with Yuuji's thrusts. It was animalistic, the sounds both men let out upon burying themselves inside of you entirely over and over again while all you could do was whine and moan pretty around the elders dick. His balls were coated in your saliva, but neither of you seemed to care when the pleasure your mouth provided drowned out everything else.

"Gonna swallow for him, yeah?" Yuuji asked breathless, the pace of his hips faltering for a moment - just long enough for you to make a sound of approval before his one hand moved from your hip to your bundle of nerves.

Rhythmic thrusts slowly turned sloppy as your boyfriend crumbled above you, which only pushed you further down onto his brother's cock, who was overwhelmed by the tightness of your throat enveloping his cock so perfectly. You helplessly moaned around him when his shaft twitched against your tongue, heavy balls contracting as his seed spurted down your throat, giving you no chance to taste him or show him what a good girl you are by savoring every bit on your tongue before swallowing it all. The sensation brought you to the brink of tears just as the pressure of your lover's hand against your clit got more intense. You could feel the warmth spreading inside your core - hot cum painting your insides as your boyfriend released deep inside of you. The feeling of being filled up on both ends sent you over the edge, your hips moving wildly against Yuuji and his hand, a mind numbing orgasm possessing your body as your back arched so beautifully.

Heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard in the living room for a few minutes. The credits of the movie that has been long forgotten were running on the screen, illuminating the three of you in a gentle light before you pressed the smallest of kisses against Choso's abs and hip bones. It was a small action, almost silly, but it was his first time and you wanted him to feel good, to feel at least somewhat special and adored. And you did adore him, a lot actually, but you would never have the same range of feelings for him as you do for his brother, which he was painfully aware of when Yuuji carried you to the bathroom when the older sibling could only follow like a lost little puppy - only to end up locked out of the bathroom.

"She just wants me to take care of her now, comfort her and all that," Yuuji explained through the closed door, hoping that his brother would understand. While you still cared a lot for him, wanted him, craved him, he would never be your number one. It was a fact he would have to get used to if he wanted to keep you in his life, if he wanted a chance to get at least a sliver of your love and if he wanted your body to make love to him once again. Even if he would never have you to himself, it was okay - at least he got to have you somehow.

As Choso sat in the living room, trying to sort his emotions, you were soaking in the tub, a gentle washcloth in Yuuji's hand washing away sweat and other filth from your soft skin. It was a nice feeling after what you've just done, making you feel loved and cared for.

"You did so well, flower." Yuuji's voice was gentle and filled with adoration for you.

Before you closed your eyes to relax further into his tender care, you kissed the palm of the hand that held the washcloth, a sweet smile on your lips when you looked up at your boyfriend. There was no doubt in your feelings for him, yet the guilt was eating you up from the inside.

"We should also take care of him. It's not right to leave him hanging like this when it was his first time," you mumbled, the weight of your heart weighing heavy at the thought of Choso sitting on the couch, still shirtless and sunken into himself with an aching heart. "Especially not when we both know there was more than lust involved for him." You continued, not wanting to feed into his little crush and build hope where there was none and Yuuji agreed, not having thought about that, perhaps, his brother craved some aftercare too.

"I guess you'll have to hold the both of us tonight," he hummed with a gentle smile, not minding to share his bed and you with his brother, but in the morning the three of you would need to sit down and break his heart in the most gentle way possible.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

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grimmweepers · 1 month ago

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— ☆ 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: alhaitham wants to cheer you up by giving you a cake but, much to his dismay, he discovers he’s not very good at baking

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au, established relationship, fluff, slice of life, comfort, baking, you call him baby, he might be a lil ooc 1.2k wc. | masterlist

a/n: important!! this piece is for the @pixelcafe-network’s secret santa exchange and it is my gift to @ariiadnes <3 surprise little elf, i am your santa >:) hehe that was me on anon. i welcome anybody to enjoy it but i’m just prefacing that i wrote this with my little elf in mind so this is personalised and will include some details specific to our kay ^_^ thank you to the pixel cafe for organising something so sweet <3 happy holidays!

p.s there is an extra surprise at the end 🤭

The sudden clang of the rolling pin meeting the floor made Alhaitham pause mid-motion. He regarded the rogue tool with a glare as though it had a personal vendetta against him. If baking was a dance of trial and error, it appeared Alhaitham was hopelessly out of step.

This shouldn’t be so difficult, he thought, bending down to retrieve it with a sigh.

What had started as a bold plan to cheer you up was devolving into a textbook case of kitchen disaster. His countertops bore signs of his struggle: a battlefield of flour, sticky smears of frosting, and a timer that had long since been silenced, marking the hours he had spent here. A slightly concerning scent wafted from the oven, where a deflated Snoopy cake mocked his attempts, its ears drooping in defeat.

All his brilliance yet his intellect failed him in the kitchen. The art of baking required nuances he hadn’t yet mastered—the understanding of texture, temperature, and timing. These were variables that no theorem or formula could solve. He glanced at the instructional video on his phone, the cheerful baker’s voice grating against his fraying patience.

‘Step one: don’t overfill the pan,’ he recited in his head, lips thinning as he stared at the mess in the oven. “A bit late for that.”

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his brooding. It was a message from you:

“Done for the day! Heading home soon. Love you <3.”

Alhaitham paused, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He could easily picture the exhaustion in your face as you typed the message. You’d been weathering the storm of clinical rotations, coursework, and sleepless nights to reach the summit of your master’s program. He’d witness you lose sleep over exams, spend weekends buried in textbooks, and wake before dawn to attend hospital shifts.

He’d also notice the fatigue in your voice, how you napped more often to catch up on rest, and the stress you tried to hide when things got overwhelming.

Even in your exhaustion, you still managed to grace him with a smile. There was something admirable about how your heart endured, how you found space for joy despite the weight you carried. He knew he couldn’t ease your responsibilities, but he could remind you that you weren't facing it all alone.

His gaze shifted to the Snoopy figurine he’d bought for inspiration, perched on the counter like a silent overseer of this culinary misadventure. No turning back now.

Alhaitham began to roll up his sleeves and pick up the piping bag.

For you, he was willing to stumble through every misstep.

Drawing Snoopy’s outline with frosting proved no easier than taming the batter. Alhaitham leaned in close, expression sharpening, and the tip of his tongue peeked out in concentration (a face no one but you might ever see from him). As he worked, his mind whispered doubts, yet his hands persisted.

Steadfast, if imperfect.

———

By the time you stepped through the front door, the scent of burnt sugar lingered in the air. The apartment, to your surprise, looked untouched—eerily pristine, even. Nothing seemed to have moved ever since you left the house this morning.

No hint of chaos. Yet.

“Haitham~?” you called out, kicking off your shoes. “What’s that smell? Did you… light a candle or something?”

“In the kitchen,” came his reply, his voice betraying none of his current predicament.

You rounded the corner, and the first thing you noticed upon entering was the stillness. Alhaitham stood near the counter, as composed as always, except for the flour dusting his hair and a smear of frosting on his cheek.

The second thing you noticed was the cake. Or what you assumed was meant to be a cake. Snoopy, your beloved Snoopy, lay immortalised in wobbly frosting on an uneven base. His ears drooped, and his face was just crooked enough to be endearing.

“Haitham?” you asked, placing your bag down carefully. “What… What happened here? Did Snoopy get caught in a blizzard?”

Alhaitham’s neutral expression didn’t falter, though his ears turned a light shade of pink. “It’s a cake,” he deadpanned. “Not a sculpture. Artistic liberties were necessary.”

That was all it took. You doubled over, laughter spilling from your lips like a bubbling brook. “You made this? For me?”

“Yes,” he said simply, the word softened by his sincerity. “You’ve been overworking yourself. I thought you might enjoy this.”

Your laughter melted into something warmer, and you stepped closer with a glow in your chest, inspecting the cake with a fond smile. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

“I can’t,” he admitted flatly. “And I don’t plan to pursue it further. The kitchen may never recover.”

"But you look so handsome covered in frosting." You reached up, gently touching the mess on his cheek. “You’ve got a little something here.”

Not wasting another second, you pressed a kiss to the smudge, tasting a bit of sugar on your tongue. His breath caught, just barely, and you pulled back with a grin.

“There,” you said playfully. “All cleaned up.”

His lips parted slightly as if to retort, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face, your thumbs tracing circles of flour on his skin. “Did my baby work hard on this cake?”

Alhaitham blinked, caught entirely off-guard by your tone. “I wouldn’t use the term hard,” he huffed slightly, a crack in his usual demeanor under your doting affection.

“Oh, but you did,” you teased, brushing your nose against his. “Worked so hard, just for me. My thoughtful, talented boyfriend.”

He sighed, a long exhale that felt more like surrender than irritation. “If you keep that up, you might convince me it was worth the mess.”

You beamed, leaning up to kiss him properly this time, imprinting your gratitude on his lips. “I already know it was. You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

His ears darkened further, and he turned his attention to the counter as if it had become the most fascinating object in the room. “The cake might taste otherwise.”

“Stop being modest,” you said, grabbing the knife. “Come on. Let’s taste your masterpiece.”

His hand covered yours before you could cut into it. “Be gentle with it. It’s barely holding together.”

You chuckled, nudging him. “Sounds a bit like me during finals actually.” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your comparison, lips quirking as you looked at him.

When you cut into the cake, the sound of the knife meeting its layers fills the space. You served a piece, taking a bite before offering your verdict. “Hmm.” You hummed thoughtfully, watching his expression tighten.

“Well?” he asked, the question almost reluctant.

You grinned and reached for his hand, squeezing it. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

He raised his brow at the sentiment but you caught the way his grip mirrored your squeezing. “I think your standards are too forgiving,” he replied.

“Not at all,” you said earnestly, setting your fork down and stepping closer. “It means everything to me, Alhaitham. Thank you.”

For once, words faltered and fell away, replaced by the gentle press of his forehead against yours. At that moment, the world seemed to pause, and the chaos of frosting, cake, and his flour-coated hands faded into nothingness. In their place was something simpler, something truer—his love for you that spoke volumes without a single syllable.

bonus gift: some silly visuals 🫶

a/n: i was a little nervous about this because kay, you already write so beautifully. i truly hope this was to your liking 🥺💖 congrats again on completing your masters program. i hope your certification exam goes/went well 💖

divider: @/adornedwithlight

#☾ grimmweepers #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader

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reidmarieprentiss · 5 months ago

Text

Dare Ya

Summary: Spencer and Penelope are roommates, you get a dare during girls night that changes your relationship with Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, mild crime description, sneaking into beds

Word count: 3.6k

a/n: this is so silly & cute ,, i saw someone say they love penelope and spencer being best friends and i can't disagree hehe

main masterlist

After surviving a terrifying attack outside her apartment, Penelope Garcia can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that now shadows her every step. Seeking solace, she reluctantly accepts Spencer Reid's offer to move in with him, hoping his quiet, protective presence will help her regain a sense of safety.

—

Penelope was sprawled out on the couch, her colorful blanket draped over her as she scrolled through the latest memes on her tablet. Spencer walked in, holding two mugs of steaming tea, carefully balancing them as he made his way to the coffee table.

"Okay, Penelope, I’ve got your chamomile, extra honey, just the way you like it," Spencer announced with a proud smile, handing her the mug.

Penelope’s eyes lit up as she accepted the tea. "Spencer, you’re an absolute gem! What would I do without you?"

Spencer sat down beside her, taking a sip of his own tea before replying, "Probably starve, considering your idea of dinner is three packets of Pop Rocks and a diet soda."

Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. "I’ll have you know that’s gourmet snacking in some cultures!"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, in this apartment, it’s all about balanced meals and—"

"—and daily doses of nerdy lectures from my favorite genius!" Penelope finished his sentence, her grin widening.

"Exactly," Spencer agreed with a chuckle. "Besides, you’re the only person who appreciates my random facts at 2 AM."

Penelope nudged him playfully with her elbow. "Of course! And who else is going to let me blast show tunes at full volume while I reorganize your books by color?"

Spencer’s eyes widened in mock horror. "Wait, you wouldn’t dare…"

Penelope leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, sweetie, it’s already done."

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch. "You’re lucky you’re cute."

"And you’re lucky I love you," Penelope shot back, lifting her mug in a toast.

Spencer clinked his mug against hers. "Best roommates ever."

"Forever and always," Penelope agreed, smiling warmly at him.

—

“Reid, don’t forget I’m having the girls over tonight,” Penelope reminded him as she flitted around the kitchen, her excitement palpable.

“Girls' night, I know,” Spencer replied with a small smile, glancing over at the calendar on the wall where Penelope had circled the date in bright pink marker. “You wrote it on the calendar.”

Penelope paused, turning to face him with a hopeful look. “Are you going to join us this time? It’s going to be fun! We’re talking snacks, gossip, and maybe even some scandalous games…”

Spencer chuckled, already making his way toward his room with a book tucked under his arm. “I’ll pass, thank you,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

Penelope pouted playfully, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “One day, Dr. Reid, you’ll see the light and join us!”

“Maybe,” Spencer called back with a laugh, already imagining the lively scene that would soon fill the apartment. For now, though, he was content to let the girls enjoy their night.

Penelope Garcia loves hosting her infamous girls' nights with the BAU ladies, filling her and Reid's apartment with laughter, drinks, and the latest gossip. Spencer, ever the accommodating roommate, doesn’t mind the occasional takeover—he’s more than happy to retreat to his books. What he didn’t anticipate, though, is you always showing up in your cozy pajamas, looking irresistibly adorable and sending his heart into a tailspin. As the nights unfold with playful games and shared secrets, Spencer finds himself leaving his room more and more often, struggling to keep his cool amidst the lively chaos.

—

The apartment is buzzing with energy as you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit in a cozy circle on the living room floor, surrounded by empty wine bottles, snack wrappers, and the remnants of your laughter-filled evening. The air is thick with friendship, and after a few rounds of lighthearted gossip, the group decides to spice things up with a classic game of truth or dare.

Penelope leans forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay, truth or dare?” she asks, her voice full of playful challenge.

Feeling the warmth of the wine and the comfort of your friends, you giggle. “Dare, obviously,” you say confidently, knowing full well that Penelope won’t go easy on you.

The girls exchange conspiratorial glances, their eyes practically twinkling with mischief. Emily is the first to speak up, grinning as she leans closer. “We dare you to… climb into Spencer’s bed while he’s sleeping.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, your cheeks flushing at the thought. “Wait, what?!” you whisper, a mixture of shock and excitement bubbling up inside you. The mere idea of being that close to him, even in such a silly, innocent context, makes your heart race.

JJ nods enthusiastically, her smile widening. “Come on! You’ve been crushing on him forever. It’s the perfect opportunity to get a little closer,” she teases, nudging your shoulder playfully.

Penelope claps her hands together, her excitement barely contained. “Think of it as a harmless prank! He’ll never know, and it’ll be our little secret,” she adds with a wink.

You bite your lip, your mind racing. The thought of sneaking into Spencer’s room, tiptoeing over to his bed, and slipping under the covers while he sleeps soundly is both terrifying and thrilling. But the encouraging looks from your friends, coupled with the wine-induced confidence, push you to make a decision.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” you finally agree, your voice a little shaky but determined. The girls let out a collective squeal of delight, stifling their laughter as they quickly urge you toward Spencer’s bedroom.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you carefully open the door to his room, the soft creak of the hinges sounding far too loud in the quiet of the night. Spencer is fast asleep, his face peaceful in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His glasses are on the nightstand, and a book lies open beside him, his fingers still loosely resting on the pages.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you slowly approach the bed, your steps light and cautious. You glance back at the doorway, where the girls are peeking in, holding their breaths in anticipation. Gathering every ounce of courage, you carefully lift the blanket and slide into the bed beside Spencer, your movements as gentle as possible.

As you carefully slide under the covers beside Spencer, you’re acutely aware of every sound, every movement, your heart hammering in your chest. You had been fully prepared to stay for only a few seconds before making your escape, but the moment you settle in, something unexpected happens—Spencer, in his sleep, rolls over and instinctively drapes an arm around you.

You freeze, eyes wide in shock, as you feel his warmth envelop you. His face nuzzles into your shoulder, his breath soft and steady against your neck. Your initial reaction is to panic, to jump out of the bed before things get any more complicated, but the sensation of his embrace is so comforting, so natural, that you can’t bring yourself to move.

Instead, you find yourself relaxing into him, letting out a breath. Spencer’s grip tightens slightly as if seeking out your warmth in his sleep, and your heart melts at the sweet, innocent way he snuggles closer.

From the doorway, the girls are watching with wide eyes, trying desperately to suppress their giggles. Penelope claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a squeal of excitement, while Emily and JJ exchange looks of pure amusement, both of them barely containing their laughter.

You turn your head slightly, giving them a pleading look to stay quiet, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. There’s something about the way Spencer holds you, even in his unconscious state, that makes you feel safe, cherished, and you can’t bring yourself to disrupt the moment.

As the minutes tick by, the warmth of Spencer’s embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing begin to lull you into a state of calm. You know you should slip out, return to the girls, and let them finish their game, but instead, you find yourself growing drowsy, the fatigue of the night catching up with you.

Before you know it, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift off to sleep, nestled comfortably in Spencer’s arms.

Back in the living room, the girls exchange glances, their excitement bubbling over. Penelope, always the ringleader, whispers with a grin, "Looks like she’s spending the night there. Mission accomplished, ladies."

Emily chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "She’s really going for it, huh?"

JJ giggles, still trying to keep her voice low. "I think we just made Spencer’s dreams come true—literally!"

The girls continue to snicker and whisper amongst themselves, marveling at how perfectly the dare has played out. They decide to let you enjoy your impromptu cuddle session, knowing that this is one girls’ night that will go down in history.

—

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gently stirring you awake. For a moment, you were wrapped in the cozy haze of sleep, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around you. As your eyes blinked open, reality came rushing back, and your heart dropped into your stomach—Spencer was still there, his arm draped across you, his face just inches from yours.

Panic set in as you realized exactly where you were and what had happened last night. Before you could gather your thoughts, Spencer stirred beside you, his brow furrowing in confusion as he slowly woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and the moment he saw you lying there, his expression shifted from sleepy contentment to utter shock.

“Wha—what’s going on?!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice a mix of confusion and panic as he scrambled back, pulling the blanket up as if it could somehow explain the situation.

You bolted upright, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Spencer, I—I can explain!” you stammered, trying desperately to find the right words. But the sight of his wide, bewildered eyes only made your heart race faster.

“Why were you…? How did you…?” Spencer was clearly struggling to make sense of it all, his mind racing as he tried to connect the dots.

You cringed, feeling mortified beyond belief. “It was just… it was a dare,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Penelope, Emily, and JJ—they dared me to sneak into your bed while you were sleeping. I swear, it was just a silly prank. I didn’t mean to—” You broke off, feeling the heat of humiliation crawl up your neck.

Spencer’s eyes widened even more, if that were possible. “A dare? You climbed into my bed because of a dare?” He sounded incredulous, his voice cracking slightly.

You nodded, biting your lip and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I didn’t think—I didn’t realize you’d… snuggle up to me like that.” Your voice trailed off, the words sounding as ridiculous out loud as they did in your head.

Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was possible, his mind clearly reeling as he processed what you had just told him. “I—I didn’t know. I must have been dreaming or something. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know you were there!” He was stumbling over his words, just as flustered as you were.

The awkwardness in the room was suffocating, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. The last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you were some kind of creep. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but no coherent words formed. The embarrassment was too overwhelming.

“I should go,” you finally managed to squeak out, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over your own feet in your haste. You bolted for the door, your face burning with shame.

Spencer started to say something, but you didn’t stop to listen. You couldn’t—every fiber of your being was screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. You could hear the girls' giggles in the living room as you rushed past them, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t bear to face them, not after what had just happened.

The moment you were out of the apartment, you leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, your heart still pounding. You had never been so embarrassed in your life. The whole thing had backfired spectacularly, and now you had no idea how you were ever going to face Spencer again.

Inside the apartment, Spencer was left sitting on the bed, staring at the door where you had just fled. His mind was still trying to process everything that had just happened, his cheeks still burning. He had never been so confused, or so flustered, in his entire life.

—

After the chaotic morning had settled down and the girls had finally left, the apartment grew quiet. Spencer was still in a bit of a daze from the unexpected events that had unfolded earlier. He moved around the kitchen mechanically, setting up breakfast while his thoughts churned.

“So, boy wonder,” Penelope began, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table as Spencer placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Care to share what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

Spencer sighed, sitting down across from her with his own plate, though he wasn’t sure he had much of an appetite. “I’m just… confused, I guess,” he admitted, poking at his eggs with his fork. “About everything that happened this morning.”

Penelope nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, it was definitely one for the books,” she agreed. “But I think there’s more to it than just a silly dare, isn’t there?”

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “I don’t know. It’s just—when I woke up and saw her there, I was… shocked, obviously. But then, after she explained, I just couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have her there, so close. And now, I feel like I completely scared her off.”

Penelope’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Spencer, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here,” she said gently. “Do you like her?”

Spencer looked up at Penelope, a bit startled by the direct question. His cheeks flushed slightly as he considered it. “I mean, yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “She’s smart, funny, and… she makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. But I never thought she’d be interested in me like that.”

Penelope’s smile widened, her heart warming at the sight of her friend finally acknowledging his feelings. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Doctor,” she said with a playful wink. “The reason we dared her to climb into your bed wasn’t just for fun. It was because we’ve all noticed how she looks at you, how she gets all flustered when you’re around. She’s been crushing on you hard, Spencer. We thought a little nudge might help her break the ice.”

Spencer blinked, the revelation sinking in. “She… she likes me?” he asked, surprise and hope flickering in his eyes.

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, she’s got it bad for you,” she confirmed. “But she’s also shy and probably feels like she’s not on your level. That’s why she freaked out this morning—she’s likely mortified because she thinks she messed everything up.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, processing Penelope’s words. It was almost too much to take in at once, but the more he thought about it, the more everything made sense. The way you always seemed a little nervous around him, the way you’d light up when he shared random facts or when you’d bump into each other in the hallway. And now, the fact that you’d been daring enough to go along with something as bold as sneaking into his bed—it all pointed to one thing: you had feelings for him, just as he had for you.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Spencer said softly, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. “But now that I know… what do I do?”

Penelope reached across the table, placing a hand on his arm. “You talk to her, Spencer. You let her know how you feel, that you’re not upset about what happened. She’s probably freaking out right now, thinking she ruined everything. But you can turn this around, make it something good.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of determination growing within him. “You’re right,” he said, his voice gaining confidence. “I need to talk to her. I don’t want her to think I’m upset or that she did something wrong.”

Penelope beamed at him, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “That’s the spirit! You’ve got this, Spencer. Just be your sweet, nerdy self, and everything will fall into place.”

—

Monday morning rolled around, and the usual bustle of the BAU was in full swing. The team was busy reviewing files, catching up on paperwork, and getting ready for whatever case might come their way. But Spencer Reid had something else on his mind—something far more nerve-wracking than profiling criminals.

With a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small, carefully wrapped box from your favorite bakery in the other, Spencer made his way to your desk. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he approached. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over, but now that the moment was here, his nerves threatened to get the better of him.

You were focused on your work, completely unaware of the flurry of emotions heading your way. But when you sensed someone standing in front of your desk, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat.

Spencer stood there, looking slightly nervous but determined, holding out the bouquet of flowers—a beautiful blend of your favorite blooms, carefully chosen with Penelope’s help. Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat.

“Hi,” Spencer said softly, his voice a little shaky but warm. “I, um… I got these for you.”

You stared at the flowers, then at Spencer, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. “Spencer… what’s all this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I wanted to apologize for how things went on Saturday. I know it was a little… unconventional, but after thinking about it, I realized I shouldn’t have let you leave feeling so embarrassed.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, both touched and confused. “You don’t have to apologize, Spencer. I was the one who—”

He gently cut you off, holding up the box from the bakery. “And I also got you this. I know it’s your favorite,” he added, offering the box with a small, hopeful smile.

You hesitated for a moment before accepting the box, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The gesture made your heart flutter. “Thank you,” you said softly, feeling a mixture of emotions welling up inside you.

Spencer shifted slightly, looking down at the flowers before meeting your eyes again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what Penelope said, about how sometimes we all need a little push to see what’s right in front of us.” His gaze was earnest, his voice steady as he continued. “And I’ve realized that I don’t want to miss out on what could be something really great.”

Your breath caught as his words sank in, your heart beating faster as hope began to bloom within you.

“So,” Spencer continued, a small but sincere smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Maybe we can start over, without the dares, and just… see where things go?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity there. The embarrassment from the weekend melted away, replaced by a growing sense of excitement. You glanced at the flowers and the pastry, your favorite treats carefully chosen just for you, and felt a smile spread across your face.

“I’d love that, Spencer,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

Spencer’s smile widened, relief and happiness evident on his face. “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. “And thank you for the flowers—and the pastry. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Spencer said softly. “You’re worth it.”

Your smile grew even brighter, and you couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at his words. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m going to have to say yes.”

Spencer’s face lit up with joy and relief, and he let out a breath he was holding. “Great,” he said, his voice full of quiet excitement. “How about dinner tonight?”

“That sounds perfect,” you replied, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

As Spencer walked away to return to his desk, a spring in his step, you couldn’t help but glance down at the flowers and the pastry. The weekend’s awkwardness seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by the sweet possibility of something new and delicious.

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg

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acid-ixx · 5 days ago

Note

Hiii, I have read all your work and it is very good :D!! I've read it several times and never get bored.

Can I ask about something? I'm curious about the characteristics or signs of yandere appearing in Tim. Will he be the last family member to become a yandere? Sorry I asked like this because I feel like he's not getting enough attention in drabbles, questions from other readers, or anything else. So I'm curious.

I hope you understand my question. Because English is not my first language.

— masterlist !

don't mind me using the tags here, i want to clarify a lot of things.

hi anon!! don't worry about your english, i understand perfectly and it's also not my first language too hehe. and to all the others who have asked about tim's (or any other characters') appearance in the series: fear not, nobody is getting ignored at all, i intend for everyone to have their designated events/moments that trigger yandere characteristics for the reader for each chapter. it's my plan to make them each as unique as possible with their intentions, motives and goals, not just them being simply "obsessed" with you, so i'm trying my best to add depth to the story.

that means the entire series will stretch out quite a lot (i already have outlined multiple arcs, flashbacks, and all the characters' individual traits and significance). it's not just going to be ten chapters, i want to remind others that there's more lore to just the neglect, your mother's dark past, and characters that haven't even been introduced to the plot yet, so if you guys prefer one-shots or something shorter, then the series is not for you folks, sorry 😭

as for tim, he is quite literally my favorite character (surprise!), so of course he's going to get special treatment. he's not going to be the last to become yandere, but his spiral to becoming a yandere takes quite a lot of time since compared to others, it's him who spends the least amount of moments with you. even in the non-neglected au i wrote, what triggered his obsession was mere curiousity.

though just because there're lesser events with him, doesn't mean there will be none. he certainly plays a major role in the "wild goose chase arc where the family tries to negotiate (kidnap) you whilst you try to escape to multiple cities/end up in a completely different country". he may not express his love for the reader well, but he most definitely knows the most about you.

oh! and the traits that he does have as a yandere looks tame when you compare it to others, but it's also because it manifests through his personal dialogue (as i reckon he's keeps most of his thoughts about you to himself most of the time (gatekeeper archetype) and he's the character with the most internal dialogue/thoughts too). he's the worst stalker you could have, the one who you should look out for the most with just how much he knows about you in such a short period of time. tim's intelligence and detective skills knows no bounds, and he won't stop exhausting himself until the very knowledge of what the blood pumping under your skin feels like and the exact temperature of your body— is extracted and stored into the terabytes of data he has into his personal batcave.

and spoiler alert: he's also the one who uncovers your mother's past and alongside bruce, what had happened between the period of time when you were dragged out of the closet and the other time in elementary when you were nearly kidnapped, which completely leads to another arc wherein it's where their obsession drives off to a completely different plane of existence, exalting vengeance on the people who tormented you; but tim's pettiness is just on a whole nother level.

and i have to stop here before i (excitedly) spoil the entire series' plot LMAO. my answer to this is a bit more casual to the other asks, so i hope it doesn't irritate anyone.

so thank you for asking this! i also have a question for you people too:

how is the current progression of the plot? i get that it isn't even 10% finished and some moments feel slow, but i try to be as immersive as possible to the readers. so for those who have read the entire thing, what do you want me to possibly add, or does anyone have other clarifications? can anyone tolerate a fanfic that can possibly lead to more than 250k words??? 😭

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formylovetodaryldixon · 2 months ago

Text

“In your eyes.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

The truth can easily be seen in the eyes of the person you love. That night, Daryl saw in your eyes how much you love him. But the next day after Aiden tried to attack you, Daryl knew who was responsible for the cut on your lip without you saying his name.

A/N: Hi! My name is Vi, and I made a page for Daryl a while ago, but for personal reasons I couldn't continue, but I'm back and I'd like to keep writing about him, so I hope you like what I'm going to post everytime i have the time (: Thanks in advance. Requests are open just in case hehe

With just a candle on the night table, fighting the darkness of the room, Daryl was lying down on the bed of blue blankets in the middle of white walls, with you sitting there, admiring the still new place. It was small but cozy, with a grey carpet that covered the entire place, a desk in front of you and a window behind it that let you watch the night landscape of trees, houses, and fake realities. The apocalypse took your family, your friends, your normal life, and the simplest fears that people used to have in the old world; but in that new one, Alexandria took your guns, and you feared that they might take your courage too.

“Hey…” Daryl said softly, his hand caressing your back. “Come ‘ere.”

But you were just tired, hoping that it was only physically, and you lay down on the bed next to him with his arm as a pillow and his blue eyes as a reminder that no matter what happened, everything would be fine as long as you were together. He looked at you in a calm and deep way, with eyes that could tell everything because he wasn’t good at talking.

“I’m okay. I’m just tired.”

You closed your eyes, feeling that his blue eyes were still on you, looking at you with adoration, just the same way he always did. He pushed your hair behind your ear, admiring your strength, your beauty and the way only you could make him feel like a real person. He was shy beyond his hard personality, clumsy to express his feeling beyond his easy way to respond to whoever offended him and you. He exposed himself to you as a true person, good and bad, but you loved him sincerely.

Daryl leaned forward and kissed your lips softly, and then, he pulled away a little, watching you open your eyes as you held a soft smile.

“What was that for?”

Daryl looked at you.

“Cause I wanted to.”

He kissed you again, softly at first. You took his face in your hand, pulling him closer, and he kissed your parted lips to then slide his tongue inside your mouth. You two had hot, deep kisses before, but the candle on the table wrapped you both in a private, warm place. The union, the friendship, and the trust you had in each other since the beginning what was led you to get marry, to seal the commitment that existed between you two from the moment you met, but you hadn’t made love yet. Not in the middle of a cold world that never gave you the chance to do it. He wanted to be special for you, and for him, because before you, Daryl had never considered the idea of making love with someone.

His hand slid under your t-shirt, stroking your soft skin with cold finger that made you shiver.

And he pulled away.

“Is that okay?” He whispered.

“It’s okay, it’s just…” You bit your lips. “Tara and Carol are in the other rooms.”

He frowned in confusion.

“So?”

“I don’t want them to hear us.”

For your surprise, Daryl chuckled. He wasn’t used to doing that, but when he did, his eyes became soft, and he started kissing you behind your ear.

“What if they hear ya moanin’ ma name? What if they hear ya beggin’ for more?”

Daryl removed his arm under you and moved to be on top of you, but without touching your body.

“What?” You chuckled, just to pretend his eyes didn’t have an effect on you.

“I love ya.” He said, and his words took you off guard while leaned down to kiss your neck with his warm mouth. “And I’m gonna make love to ya, sunshine.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach and the tingle in between your legs when he lowered to the level of your belly. His hot breath made you hold yours as his beard tickled your skin when he started kissing you. His hands slid over your back, pushing you up slightly. His timid personality disappeared like a shadow at night, leaving only the strong hunter that touched you gently. And that night, you gave him everything without any regrets.

You walked down the street, watching again the still unreal picture in front of you. That place was like a bubble in which all those people lived in: but separated from the truth, absent from danger, from the cruel reality on the other side of their walls. They had warm beds and water, nice houses, electricity: but it was too perfect.

It was like nothing happened to the world, and you didn’t know if pretending until to get used to that life was a good idea… although it was the only one you had now. But maybe you were just too used to danger and there, it was none.

Just one of the two doors in the Monroe family garage was open, and you took a step inside where the son, Aiden, was leaning over a car with the hood open. You cleared your throat to attract his attention and he tilted his head to the side to look at you standing there, with your hands in the pockets of your jeans and a gentle smile on your face.

“Hi.” You said while he straightened. “I’m (Y/N). Your mom sent me to talk to you about the runs. She says you’re in charge.”

“I’m the man.” He smiled walking to you as he extended his hand. “Aiden Monroe.”

You smiled with courtesy taking it.

“(Y/N) Dixon.”

His eyes widened a little, with surprise.

“You are Dixon’s wife?”

You tilted your head to the side, looking at him with a mocking expression after having heard that before, several times.

“Everyone has the same expression you just did.”

He smiled, hiding beneath his attractive features the face of a demon.

“I’m sorry, but… are not you afraid of him? It’s just… he’s so… he looks so rude… and you so-” But he chuckled, like a good kid. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend your husband.”

“You didn’t.” You shook your hand to push that thought aside. The boy in front of you ignored as the strangers who Daryl really was, and you didn’t want to waste your time trying to explain something he wouldn’t understand. “So… Are we gonna talk about what is my role in this?”

“A beauty like you should stay at home, but…” He smiled walking again to his car. “Basically I just have to teach you and your friends to evade walkers, find the necessary supplements and go home.”

That sounded as easy as breathing… in theory, but you didn’t want to argue about his lack of awareness out there.

“Okay.” You said turning around to leave but his hand closed around your wrist. You looked back, frowning in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m really sorry for calling you a beauty… I mean… you are really beautiful but that sounded like if I was calling you weak.”

His grip on your wrist was far from gentle, like the claw of a beast. You looked him in the eye like someone who doesn’t fear a dangerous animal, and you kept calm when you spoke.

“Yeah. No problem. I’m sure you didn’t mean to say that.”

“Of course I didn’t.” He smiled stepping a little closer to you. “You are a beauty, however. That Dixon is very lucky. Would you tell me how he got a woman like you? You’re so hot… and those eyes–”

“Hey.” You separated even though he didn’t let you go. “I really recommend you to think about what you’re doing right now.”

Your calm but defiant voice lit him like fire. The strength and bravery behind your eyes fixed on him was a danger he seemed to enjoy.

“Relax, honey, I’m not doing anything to you... yet.”

You felt the beating of your heart in your throat.

“Can you let me go? I need to go home.”

“With your husband?” He smirked. “With that man who seems to have come out from a cave? Are you sure he doesn’t hit you or something? Maybe I should check your body just in case.”

His other hand tried to hold the edge of your black t-shirt, but you pushed it away from your body with a sharp push. Your rejection made his eyes darken, even darker than the rotten blood of a walker, and he pushed you against the garage door. The hard wood hit your back and your head, sending a pointed pain through your body.

You hissed through clenched teeth, but you didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that it hurt you.

“Why don’t you try to scream for help, honey?” His body pressed against yours. “I’m sure your prince will come instantly to save you.”

You looked into his eyes; his true self emerged behind that flirtatious smile, more dangerous than a walker.

“I don’t need no one to save me from a beast like you.”

You tensed your free arm and hit him hard in the stomach. Aiden pulled away from you, expelling all the air in his body, but even in pain, he raised his arm and slapped you with the back of his hand. Your face flew to the side, squeezing your eyes as you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. Blood.

“Stupid bitch…” He pushed you roughly to the ground, your hands scraping against the cement to protect you from hitting the floor too hard. “Welcome to Alexandria, baby.” Aiden knelt in front of you, where you looked into his eyes through your inner rage. “Be careful with what you tell the others, because you, your husband and your whole pack could leave today.”

Aiden walked out of the garage into the sun as if he was the king of the world. You licked your lip and you knew there was a cut there, and you contemplated your whole life from the floor: Loneliness when your parents died to save you, fear, anger, the times you thought you would die, and your big desire to live. But this guy with an angel smile, a dictator complex and an ego about to explode thought foolishly that he could ruin you as if you were nothing.

You chuckled feeling free in that world that caught you under its shadow and you got up to walk out of that place. You saw Aiden walking down the street, walking with the freedom of someone who lived safely in a small bubble of protection and lies. You didn’t stop waking, you didn’t see Daryl and Rick walking a distance behind you, neither his mom talking to a couple, or your family in the porch of the house you all shared, nor some neighbors on their own porches enjoying the day while your heart was beating fast in your chest. Your true courage rose as you approached him from behind, and the strength within you gathered in your clenched fist.

“Hey, asshole!”

Aiden turned unsuspecting, and with a force more than just physical, you punched him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, scratching his hands against the cement just like you did before, the blood coming out of his nose.

“You bitch!” He yelled getting up, ready to hit you again, but just then, Daryl passed you by and he tackled Aiden to the ground.

Everything else went quickly and was blurry. Aiden’s mother shouted to leave his son, your friends and neighbors approached while Rick grabbed Daryl to stop hitting Aiden, but Daryl pushed Rick with a jolt.

“Daryl, stop!” Rick held Daryl from the shoulders and he used all his strength to pull him back and out of Aiden.

Rick stood in front of him, following his movements as Daryl moved from side to side like a lion in a cage watching his prey through the bars.

“(Y/N)?” Maggie asked in surprise. “What happened to your face?”

That was the moment when Daryl noticed the cut on your lip, red and bright under the sun, which only made him got furious even more. He tried to jump over Aiden again, who was already standing next to his mother, but Rick held Daryl back.

He knew it. Daryl just knew who did that to you.

“I will fuckin’ kill ya, bastard!” He yelled in anger, trying to push Rick out of his way. “I will break yer fuckin’ hands for touchin’ ma wife!”

For a moment, you thought that your group really would have to leave.

The same night, the wind blew gently like a good omen, but Daryl was still out of control, walking from here to there in the porch, cursing under his breath. You saw the wounds in your hand, red and bruised by the fall, your body felt heavy from the blow against the door, but your spirit could not feel lighter than a feather.

“It was a good punch, right?” You chuckled and that made him stop. That was the only way he was separated for a second from his thoughts. “My grandfather taught me to strike a punch without hurting my knuckles. My parents never liked it.”

Daryl watched you with his confused blue eyes that still wanted to see Aiden walk down the street just to have the opportunity to kill him. You were strong before his eyes, but seeing you hurt made him feel hurt, and so furious too. Daryl couldn’t believe you were so calm about that, but he could see in your eyes that the meeting with Aiden wouldn’t let you sleep that night, neither to him.

You were so innocent to believe that there was no danger there.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms to him. “You need a hug.”

He was surprised to hear you, but Daryl walked towards you, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Yer such a badass.” He tried to chuckled, but he hid his face in your neck. “M'sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” You whispered stroking his hair. “It’s not your fault.”

A minute later you pulled away and you two just stayed there, face to face. Daryl held your left hand. Despite the anger he felt, he was kind to you, and he kissed your knuckles where your wedding ring was. But Daryl saw in your eyes that you were going to be okay, and that was the only truth he needed for him to be okay, too.

#daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon

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ariseur · 8 months ago

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hiii can i req a sephiroth fic where he's a new dad who doesn't really know how to hold his daughter but he wants to while reader mama is asleep hehe thanks

soft shushes left sephiroth’s lips as he held a finger up to them, trying his hardest to calm his little baby before she woke you up. her wails filled the room, bouncing off the walls as he cautiously extended his hand out inside her crib. the white wooden material of the cradle brushed against his hand as sephiroth grazed his daughter’s cheek, her soft skin smooth against his knuckle. she squirmed in her onesie, her head flopping against her small pillow while she sobbed.

“shhh— it’s alright.. your father’s here.” how foreign it felt for him to call himself a father in the third person, he still wasn’t used to it yet after four months of officially being a parent although he referred to himself so formally. it was almost comical to you.

he didn’t mind getting up and soothing the baby sometimes, but by the way you were stirring in your sleep when he woke up told him that this would be more diffficult than the previous times; especially considering how his daughter wouldn’t stop crying no matter what tricks he used this time. soft rattles, her pacifier, even her favorite bunny toy didn’t calm her down, instead smacking the plush away when greeted with it. such attitude, he thought. wonder where she got that from.

he cooed at her and rubbed at her cheeks, even going so far as to awkwardly jingle a toy in front of her— instead being met with her iron baby grip. until he finally realized, she wasnt calming down anytime soon. he dreaded having to pick his daughter up, having no experience with babies whatsoever made his fear even worse. he wasn’t built for being a father, and he certainly didn’t know how to handle children with baby talk, but he’d try his damndest to soothe his baby. even hearing her whines made his heart ache.

his rough hands slipped under her tiny body and lifted her head up first, trying to carefully pick her up without letting her wiggle herself out of his grip. his callouses caught on the soft fabric of her pajamas, and although he could pick her up with one hand so easily, he couldn’t take any chances on hurting his own baby. he’d never let himself live it down if he did.

she peeked one eye open at her father, the color similar to yours— and he couldn’t help but watch in awe as she stopped wailing for a split second, looking up at him with wonder. until she finally scrunched her eyes again; frown deepening before it opened again to release a cry.

he adjusted his hold on her, his mind thinking back to the times where he’s watched you hold her, the time where you had gotten back from the hospital and taken her home. sephiroth snaked a hand up behind her neck to support her head, his daughter’s sniffles and sobs gradually getting softer. he brought her to his chest, rocking her a little bit as he replicated your motions. usually, with enough time, she’d fall right back to sleep once she was held enough. looking down at her, she peered up at his mako green eyes in curiosity, watching as they curved with the small smile he gave her.

sephiroth brought her up to his upper chest, having her lean on his shoulder instead as he held her neck and placed his other hand under her bottom for support, rocking her as he hummed a soft lullaby he used to hear in his training days, more like a shanty if anything. although it certainly did the trick— the only thing left in his ear were soft noises and sniffles by the time he had already recited the song twice.

he let his eyes trail across her room, memories flooding back to him in an instant. with all the childproofing around the house, the small loosely colored drawings pinned on the wall, the overhead stars set up above the crib, everything reminded him of you. even looking at his baby girl, she had your eyes. he remembered a few years earlier, having a conversation with you of how you both craved domesticity, a nice life, something better than the one you already had. and now look at him, cradling his baby in his arms and singing sweet lullabies to lull her to a slumber. he never imagined this far into the future, but god, did it make him feel so warm.

sephiroth eyed the tiny couch in the nursery, littered with toys and cartons of formula. through the window behind it, he could see the lightening sky through the sliver of curtains beyond the sofa, signaling that it was probably time for you to wake up soon. he walked back over to the crib, his baby now calm and serene as her head kept lolling downwards when he put her back in his arms.

setting her back down in the cushioned crib, he slid down on the side of it and brought his knees to his chest, hugging them to himself. he listened to her sleepy coos and slight shuffling, waiting a while to ensure she truly fell asleep. when sephiroth looked back at her, his eyes lit up to see she had finally gone back to sleep.

breathing a sigh of relief, he let the back of his head rest against the cradle, closing his eyes with a breath of victory before letting himself fall asleep on his own, occasionally waking up and checking on her sleeping form— making sure that her chest is rising and falling the way it’s supposed to.

and when you woke up, rushing to your baby’s room as it had been way too quiet, you found sephiroth snug against the cradle with your daughter asleep inside, the soft twinkling of a lullaby playing from the overhead rotating mobile hanging above the crib. your mouth dropped into a silent ‘o’ as you took the sight in with awe, a hand flying up to cover your mouth.

sephiroth may not have known how to become a father, but nobody knows. all he knows is that he’d do anything for his baby, he’d do anything for you. your baby was a part of the both of you, a piece of evidence that proved that the both of you existed. below his glare is adoration, and he’ll do anything to protect the ones who have known him before anyone else has; for he is not a war hero, he is a father. he is a lover. he is merely, sephiroth.

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colourstreakgryffin · 10 months ago

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Big bad Overlord Husk does things to me... Can you please do something for him with a reader who combs his hair and makes sure he is presentable by doing things like adjusting his bowtie? (Romantic, please!) Thanks!

Hehe~! Oooh~! I like this idea a lot and it kinda reminds me of that Overlord Husk + Casino-Bae Angel Dust AU thingie! Why not make us the Casino Bae or I’m gonna call the ‘Casinofly’? I also need to start asking for gender, because I always default to female for most of the guys *sigh*

Overlord! Husker- Dolling Up

How did you manage to land being able to spend so much time with the Gambling Overlord? Not even you know, you’ve just become his personal little casinofly. The pretty face that gets to pamper and doll him up every single day, who may or may not be his current girlfriend

Husk enjoys the feeling of your cute little hands running over his blackish-gray feathery hair, gently combing the smooth semi-hard bristles of a brush over his head. The attention you put into grooming him

Husk knows this routine instinctively. He’ll sit down on his bed and order you to enter his room, waiting for you to brush his hair, style him up, spray him with some cologne, clean him to utter perfection so he’ll glow for his casino. You’re the only one he wants to be his pamperer

Husk can’t help but purr and purr loudly with every kiss and brush you give him. Kissing his ear tips or kissing the smoothly brushed back of his hair. He loves it and he couldn’t imagine anybody else doing this for him. He ends up walking out of the room with you on his arm whilst purring under his breath

“So… is today a Overlord meeting, hey?” You ask smoothly and elegantly in a soft-tone, lips perking out slightly with the nice black lipstick that your not-so-secret boyfriend, Husk, the gambling Overlord of the Pride Ring put on for you. A powerful, influential figure amongst this huge city so you’re pretty surprised he would spare you time and especially allow you to be his little pamperer. The lady that gets to dress him up and make him look presentable for the day

Husk nods slowly and carefully as you brush and style back his hair with a precise scoopful of gentle slick rather expensive hairgel, making sure it stays still, attractive and appealing. Making his quite tall tuft-tipped ears pop out a bit more as you clean off your fresh hair briefly with the nearby makeup wipes laid on the bed besides your makeup bag, before beginning to tie up his business meeting bowtie. It’s a different one than the usual bowtie

“Well yes, love. It’ll be for a hour or two. Now, may I ask you something?” Husk purrs out in his strong, deep and almost hypnotic voice, his hands laid in his lap as his high collared shirt snuggles his hips and his arms well, big feathery red and detailed wings drooped over on the bed comfortably

Sat down on his own grand silky bed in his mighty suite, fitting his appeal and his style very well. You’re the only one allowed into his room, just the pretty casinofly he has his eyes on

“Yes, Sir?” You ask warmly and almost delicately responding to your own boss, the Overlord that has both your soul and your heart in his grasp effortlessly, as your own gentle sparkly eyes focus on readjusting the bowtie around his neck slightly to make sure it’s neat and presentable for this important event

You want Husk to shine out the rest of his fellow Overlords, which is why you’re being precise but you’re always so precise, you always want him to look incredible

Fixing up the collar cuffs of the white dresshirt, you make sure his hands are free and smooth, the fur brushed and clean. All of his fur is brushed and clean, just as you desire. As soon as you’re done, waiting for Husk to speak once again after the few seconds of silence that radiates throughout the magnificent fancy room, the Gambling Overlord finally speaks again. His voice has that certain charm that can always put you in a trance

So effortlessly, you cannot believe just how effortless and impressive this demon is

“I wish for you to accompany me to this meeting. Do not worry about being unable to enter with me, I’ll let you in” Husk saying this so confidently and fearless, he is very certain about what he wants and he doesn’t suspect that you will not say no, but, he is surprised by the way you respond; widened glowing eyes, hands halting at putting on his suit jacket over his shoulders, your lips parting

You look so damn kissable and he can’t wait to kiss your pretty little face as soon as he can. For now, he’ll stay put and listen out for your own response as well as behave for your sake

Controlling your nerves and your beating heart. The idea of being around so many powerful sinners is intimidating and the idea of Husk wanting to bring you up to the Overlord meeting. It makes your cheeks burn up, you never thought he’d ever want to show people that he’s dating you, outside of the casino and outside of his domain. He must really like you! It almost feels unbelievable…

You quickly shake your head and begin to continue putting on his suit jacket, his three-piece suit for the business. Almost completely ready, Husk is waiting patiently and sitting silent like a curiously watching cat. As soon as your done, attaching a golden suit tassel chain

The Overlord towers over you as you step back and he smoothly picks up your hands, beginning to slide your bicep-length silky sparkly gloves. Finishing up the touches of that pretty classy yet semi-sexy ‘casino bae’-style of yours

Your eyes sparkled a bit more at Husk dressing you back, slowly and strongly turning you around. He offers his arm out and waits for your next action, sharp golden yellow eyes gleaming in your direction, almost sizing you up

He is waiting for you to accept his enticing welcoming invitation, he wants you to join him for this meeting and he’d be disappointed if you said no

Your heart dropped a bit at hearing the usual yet soothing vibration, humming through the air, of cat purring. Of Husk purring

“Shall we head out now, sweetheart?”

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yan-lorkai · 2 months ago

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You said suggestive is fine so could i ask self aware au Octavinelle with a reader who puts their phone on their boobs while they do lessons? (like that one hands free old trend where girls hold bubble tea on their boobs but with reader's phone instead) and reader saving their phone in between their booba due to not having pockets, thank you 🙏

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: Uuuuh, my dumbass just realized that i didn't, in fact, queue this post hehe 💀💀💀. Now I gotta go and make sure I queued all those other posts, y'all have a good reading

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul tries to keep a calm, dignified facade, but the sight of you placing your phone so casually in that spot has him flustered and fidgety behind his screen. He tries to rationalize it — this is just practical for you, after all! — but every time you do it, he’s reminded of the lack of physical boundaries separating him from your personal space. It drives his possessiveness up a notch; he finds himself sneaking glances at his reflection, wondering how long it will take to truly bridge the digital barrier and keep you all to himself. Azul’s jealousy spikes anytime you get close to other characters, knowing they’re seeing the same thing he is, and it pushes him to quietly sabotage any in-game interactions you have that might distract you from him. You should focus only on him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jade’s reaction is subtle, but his gaze sharpens with intrigue as he watches your every move. The sight of you slipping the phone between your chest has him deeply fascinated, and he immediately begins analyzing how he might exploit your habits to get closer to you, even as he likes to rest his head over your chest. His curiosity is dark, wondering if, in real life, you’d be so comfortable in his presence, so casual and at ease. Every time you repeat the action, it’s like a reminder that you’re just a step away from letting your guard down completely, and he’s more than happy to wait until you’re at your most comfortable.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Floyd is thrilled. The moment he notices this habit, he’s fixated, snickering and commenting to himself every time he sees you do it. He’s both entertained and weirdly possessive, blurting out all kinds of playful remarks on your screen and even teasing other characters about “getting a little too close” to his “Shrimpy.” Floyd’s unpredictable streak gets stronger; he starts spamming you with messages or notifications when he knows your phone is “tucked away,” just to get your attention and keep you focused on him. He loves the casual intimacy of it, and it only makes him more determined to reach through the screen, to bridge that tiny gap between your phone and himself, so he can finally be the one held so close to you.

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thedensworld · 10 months ago

Text

Flower Bloomed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: angst, romance, marriage AU

Summary: it's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

Author note: mention of abortion, miscarriage, murder, depression, divorcee. Don't hate me after this because i prepared one more part hehe.. Also, don't blame my baby boomer ass, i don't understand how to tag people TT

Part 2 of Falling Flower

***

"It's been a long time..." The words hung heavily in the air, mingling with the clatter of utensils in the expansive dining room of Kim's Family estate. The atmosphere was tense, palpable even in the silence that enveloped the room. No one dared to speak, their thoughts weighed down by an unspoken topic that lingered, begging to be addressed but forcibly restrained within their minds.

Mingyu, ever observant, had noticed the tension the moment you and he stepped into the room. His gaze flickered over the faces of those present, catching glimpses of suppressed emotions and silent pleas for release. Yet, he chose to remain silent, opting instead to watch the subtle shifts in your expression, which spoke volumes of your desire to escape this suffocating atmosphere.

You cast furtive glances around the room, your eyes betraying a silent plea for someone to break the stifling silence. But as the seconds ticked by, it became apparent that the weight of unspoken words held everyone in its grip, chaining their tongues and stifling any attempt at conversation.

The clatter of utensils seemed to echo louder in the silence, punctuating the tension that hung heavy in the air. Each clang reverberated through the room, a stark reminder of the unresolved emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Despite the urge to flee, you remained rooted to your seat, your discomfort etched into every line of your face. Mingyu watched you closely, his own expression a mirror of your silent distress, yet bound by some unspoken agreement to maintain the facade of normalcy.

In the midst of this oppressive silence, the unspoken topic loomed large, casting a shadow over the room and stifling any attempts at casual conversation. It was a burden that weighed heavily on each person present, a weight that threatened to crush them under its unrelenting pressure.

And so, the minutes stretched on, each one filled with the deafening sound of silence and the unspoken words that hung suspended in the air. In the vast expanse of Kim's Family dining room, the absence of conversation spoke volumes, revealing more about the tangled web of emotions than any words ever could.

"The last time you joined us was New Year's Eve, and it's August now." Mingyu's hand faltered mid-cut, his gaze lifting to meet his mother's eyes as she voiced what had been weighing on everyone's mind since your unexpected appearance. He was poised to intercede, ready to defend you with the excuse of your busy schedule and your efforts to carve out time for today. Yet, he was caught off guard when you spoke up in your own defense, your words ringing out unexpectedly, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Mingyu's father intervened, seeking to diffuse the tension that had settled over the table like a heavy fog. "Forget it. Y/n is with us today, and we should celebrate it," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality as he attempted to steer the conversation onto a more positive path.

"Thank you, father," you responded softly, a hint of relief lacing your words as you acknowledged his attempt to ease the strained atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a whirlwind of emotions churned, a mix of guilt, regret, and a longing for acceptance that lingered unspoken between the lines of your apology.

Mingyu watched the exchange with a furrowed brow, his thoughts a tumultuous jumble as he grappled with conflicting emotions. He wanted to defend you, to shield you from the judgmental stares and whispered criticisms that hung heavy in the air. Yet, he also understood the weight of expectations that bore down upon you, the pressure to conform to the standards set by his family, even at the expense of your own happiness.

As the conversation shifted, Mingyu's gaze flickered between you and his family, a silent plea for understanding passing between them. In that moment, he wished for nothing more than to bridge the divide that separated you, to mend the fractured bonds that threatened to tear you apart. But he knew that such reconciliation would not come easily, that it would require patience, understanding, and a willingness to confront the underlying tensions that simmered beneath the surface.

Mingyu found himself sinking into the plush cushions of his father's office couch, the weight of the evening's tension still heavy upon his shoulders. Dinner had been a bitter affair, marked by a palpable silence that hung like a dark cloud over the table. Mingyu couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's unspoken thoughts, knowing all too well that your presence after an extended absence had cast a shadow over the evening.

As his father poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to him, Mingyu accepted it with a grateful nod, the amber liquid offering a fleeting sense of solace in the midst of the swirling emotions that threatened to engulf him. With each sip, he felt the tension in his muscles begin to ease, though the knot of apprehension in his stomach remained stubbornly intact.

Then, his father's question cut through the stillness of the room like a knife, jolting Mingyu out of his thoughts. "Why is she here?" he asked, his tone laden with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled disapproval as he gestured towards you.

Mingyu hesitated, his mind racing as he searched for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. He knew that his father's question carried with it a weighty implication, a silent challenge to justify your presence in the midst of familial discord.

"She didn't even come to Minseo's wedding last month," Mingyu's father remarked, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Mingyu let out a weary sigh, the weight of his father's words settling heavily upon him. It was yet another reminder of the growing chasm between you and his family, a divide that seemed to widen with each passing day.

"I thought you didn't bother at all," Mingyu interjected, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness as he braced himself for his father's response.

His father shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I was," he admitted begrudgingly, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the facade of indifference. "But the more I think about it, the weirder it becomes."

Mingyu furrowed his brow in confusion, struggling to decipher his father's cryptic words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.

"I know you two sleep separately," his father stated matter-of-factly, the blunt revelation sending a jolt of surprise coursing through Mingyu's veins. There was no attempt to mask the source of his knowledge; it was clear that Mingyu's maid had betrayed their secret, laying bare the truth for all to see.

Mingyu felt a surge of anger and embarrassment rising within him, the sting of betrayal cutting deep as he grappled with the implications of his father's words. He had hoped to shield you from the judgmental eyes of his family, to preserve some semblance of privacy in the midst of their scrutiny. Yet, it seemed that their secrets were no longer safe, laid bare for all to see in the harsh light of his father's scrutiny.

As Mingyu struggled to find his voice amidst the swirling tide of emotions, he couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by his father's lack of discretion and by the revelation of their private affairs.

"I'm going to divorce her," Mingyu finally uttered, breaking the heavy silence that hung between him and his father like a suffocating shroud. His words echoed in the air, carrying with them the weight of a decision that had been looming over him for far too long.

His father's response was immediate, a mixture of surprise and skepticism etched into the lines of his face. "Are you sure? Didn't you marry her to gain leverage at JIS Corp?" he questioned, his tone betraying a hint of doubt as he sought to understand Mingyu's sudden change of heart.

Mingyu nodded, the admission hanging heavy on his conscience. "Yeah... At first," he admitted reluctantly, the weight of his confession settling like a stone in the pit of his stomach. "But I don't think it's worth it anymore. Her mother still runs the company anyway."

His father's expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing between them as they both acknowledged the futility of clinging to a marriage built on ulterior motives. "She's a bad person," his father murmured, his words tinged with bitterness as he echoed Mingyu's unspoken sentiments.

Mingyu couldn't help but agree, the memories of your mother-in-law's manipulative tactics and ruthless ambition still fresh in his mind. But as he cast a sideways glance at his father, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of guilt that gnawed at his conscience.

"She raised one too," Mingyu whispered under his breath, his words barely audible above the low hum of the room. But they fell on deaf ears, lost amidst the weight of their shared silence and the unspoken truths that lingered between them.

"How's the baby?" you asked, breaking the awkward silence that hung heavily between you and Minseo. Her hand instinctively went to her growing stomach as she replied, "She's alright," her words tinged with discomfort.

The distance between you was palpable, a stark reminder of the rift that had formed between you over time. The secrecy surrounding your families and your marriage to her brother had only served to deepen the divide, leaving your once-close friendship strained and distant.

Dongmin, Minseo's husband, approached with a plate of fruit, silently acknowledging the need for privacy between you and Minseo. As he retreated, Minseo cleared her throat, her gaze flickering between you as she struggled to find the right words to break the icy tension that hung between you.

In the pregnant pause that followed, Minseo's mind raced, torn between the desire to address the elephant in the room and the fear of opening old wounds. She knew all too well the reasons for your prolonged absence, but your sudden presence tonight had stirred up a sense of unease within her.

As she pondered her next move between bites of fruit, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at her insides. The weight of unspoken truths and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared.

In that moment, Minseo found herself grappling with a myriad of conflicting emotions, longing for the closeness you once shared even as the distance between you seemed insurmountable. But as she looked into your eyes, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, unsure of what lay ahead for the fractured friendship that had once meant so much to both of you.

"Are you still working with Mr. Choi?" Minseo finally asked, breaking the strained silence that hung between you. You nodded your head in response, the motion almost automatic as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Minseo couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at the confirmation. It seemed like just yesterday when her brother had excitedly announced his intention to marry you, catching her off guard with the suddenness of it all. In the blink of an eye, you had gone from being her best friend to her sister-in-law, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed left her reeling.

She remembered flying back to South Korea for the wedding, watching from the sidelines as you and her brother exchanged vows, a smile plastered on your face as you posed for pictures with friends and family. But beneath the facade of happiness, Minseo couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach.

As time passed, the once-close bond between you and Minseo began to fray, the demands of work and the pressures of marriage driving a wedge between you. The dinners and events that once brought you together became fewer and farther between, until eventually, you stopped attending altogether.

For Minseo, the sudden silence was deafening, leaving her to wonder what had gone wrong between you. She had tried reaching out, hoping to bridge the growing distance between you, but her attempts had been met with silence, leaving her to grapple with the painful realization that the friendship she had cherished for so long was slipping away.

And now, as she sat across from you, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once vibrant connection you shared. In that moment, Minseo couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong, and whether there was any hope of salvaging what was left of the bond that had once meant everything to her.

Mingyu approached, breaking the icy silence between you and Minseo with the simple declaration that it was time to head home. The drive wasn't far from where your conversation with Minseo had left off, but a chill lingered in your body, causing you to shudder involuntarily. Mingyu, seated beside you, remained motionless, perhaps due to the effects of the drinks he'd had at his parents' place. Yet, his sight had been closed off for months now; he hadn't truly seen you in all that time.

Once back at Mingyu's place, he left you in the living room without a word, disappearing into his room after a brief reminder about the charity ball hosted by Seungcheol's parents tomorrow. You trudged wearily to your own room, conveniently situated next to his, and locked the door behind you. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs, a stark contrast to the lively dinner at Mingyu's parents' home earlier. Each step felt like a burden, as if carrying the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"People in the company gossip about your relationship," Mingyu's mother words echoed in your mind, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand whispers. "They even mentioned that you two are apart since March."

The rumor hung heavy in the air, suffocating the truth beneath layers of speculation and hearsay. Mingyu's mother insistence cut through the silence, a reminder of the urgent need to silence the falsehoods. "If you want to shut them up, you need to stop the rumor," she urged, her voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"You two should try to have a child again."

As you sat at your office desk, the weight of the accusations bore down on you, mingling with the scattered fragments of your daydream. Your gaze lingered on your boss's schedule for the upcoming weekend, but your thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the relentless knocking on your door.

You realized with a jolt that you had locked the door earlier, and the persistent rapping could only mean one thing – Mingyu's arrival. With a deep breath, you prepared to face the confrontation, the anticipation building in your chest like a storm on the horizon.

"Wait a minute," you said, pausing mid-step as you rushed to open the door. Mingyu stood before you, his eyes betraying a hint of worry. He cleared his throat, quickly composing himself before asking if he could come into your room. You made room for him, allowing him to enter, and he settled onto the couch near your bed with a heavy sigh.

"I have something to tell you," he began, his tone serious as he handed you a piece of paper. Your eyes scanned the words, and a wave of unexpected realization washed over you. You looked up at Mingyu, silently demanding an explanation. He nervously bit his lip before speaking, his words laden with a mix of regret and resignation.

"This marriage... it has no reason to continue," he confessed, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of finality. You couldn't help but agree, feeling the weight of truth settle upon your shoulders.

"We rushed into this too quickly a year ago," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "We've lost the reason for it. And... I don't think either of us ever truly loved each other. Perhaps... I've fallen out of love too."

The words hung heavy in the air, a somber acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. As you sat on the edge of the bed, emotions swirling within you, you couldn't help but wonder how things had come to this point. It was a bittersweet realization, but one that needed to be acknowledged nonetheless.

You contemplated asking if there was someone else, but you quashed the thought, clenching your lips to stifle any potentially hurtful words. A heavy sigh escaped you, the reality sinking in sooner than anticipated.

"I thought we had another year," you murmured, the weight of the prenuptial agreement pressing on your mind. The contract stipulated a minimum of two years of marriage before considering divorce—a promise you both made before exchanging vows. Yet here you were, facing the prospect of dissolution, initiated not by you, but by Mingyu himself.

"I'm going to take responsibility for that," Mingyu uttered, his words hanging in the air, a mixture of regret and resignation evident in his tone.

Your gaze fixated once more on the divorce papers, each line a cruel reminder of shattered dreams and broken promises. Your head spun with disbelief; this wasn't the life you had envisioned just a year ago. Memories flooded in—of your childhood home, your mother's unwavering support, and the daunting uncertainty that awaited you beyond the confines of this crumbling marriage.

"How about my rights? My mother won't give up on me before our two-year anniversary," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the weight of disappointment.

He bowed his head, his expression pained with apology. "I'm sorry..."

In that moment, Kim Mingyu became the living embodiment of abandonment. It was a stark realization that perhaps, in this cold and unforgiving world, no one truly cared about you. As the weight of loneliness settled upon your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel betrayed by the very person you once believed would be your lifelong companion.

Months had passed since the last time he had seen you dress up, and as you approached him in the living room, clad in a long, enticing red dress that hugged your curves, he was reminded of just how much he had missed the sight of you all dolled up. He rose from the couch, urgency flickering in his eyes, gesturing for you to hurry as the event awaited, yet you both remained within the confines of your home.

As Mingyu prepared to step out of the entrance, you halted him with a subtle hand gesture, drawing him closer as you deftly adjusted his tie and smoothed down his suit. The sudden proximity caught him off guard, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the warmth of your body pressed against his. The scent of your perfume enveloped him, a familiar yet intoxicating aroma that never failed to stir something deep within him, a reminder of his adoration for you.

Upon arrival, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable surprise that mirrored the astonishment seen on Mingyu's family's faces during last night's dinner. Your unexpected presence amidst the socialite crowd stirred whispers and raised eyebrows, the subject of endless speculation and gossip during your absence from such gatherings.

As Mingyu guided you through the room, his hand lingering possessively around your waist, it was a scene reminiscent of days gone by, a familiar tableau that seemed to defy the rumors swirling around your relationship. The sight of the two of you together, united against the backdrop of societal expectations, left many gaping in disbelief.

Approaching Seungcheol, the host of the event and Mingyu's best friend, Mingyu couldn't help but notice the genuine warmth in your smile as Seungcheol greeted you both with enthusiasm. With a gentle tug, you were whisked away by Seungcheol's wife to mingle with other socialites, leaving Mingyu to engage in conversation with Seungcheol and Jeon Wonwoo, his trusted confidant from college.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Kim Mingyu. I don't like your wife's mood at work today," Seungcheol bluntly expressed, finally voicing the concern that had been weighing on his mind since his interactions with you earlier that morning.

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgment, recognizing the unique influence Mingyu held over the situation. "Only Mingyu could manage that," he remarked, a subtle nod to your exceptional professionalism and dedication as Seungcheol's trusted secretary.

Mingyu's sigh resonated with a sense of resignation, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's observation. "I haven't done anything," he admitted wearily, the frustration evident in his voice as he sought refuge in the simple act of sipping his wine, a temporary respite from the complexities of the situation.

Wonwoo's gaze bored into Mingyu, who nervously swallowed his saliva. The tension between them was palpable, Mingyu's discomfort evident in every shift of his weight. He despised Wonwoo's uncanny ability to read people, a skill that made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

Mingyu believed that Seungcheol, their mutual friend, was oblivious to the true nature of his marriage. He trusted that Seungcheol saw only what he wanted to see: a seemingly happy couple. After all, Seungcheol had witnessed firsthand how formidable you could be when dealing with Mingyu's shortcomings.

But Wonwoo was a different breed altogether. He possessed a keen intuition, capable of detecting even the slightest hint of deception. From the moment Mingyu had confessed his impending marriage, Wonwoo had sensed something amiss.

"Did you knock somebody?" Wonwoo's first sentence upon hearing Mingyu's announcement cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. It was a direct challenge, a probing inquiry designed to unearth the truth buried beneath Mingyu's carefully constructed facade.

As Mingyu stood before Wonwoo, his facade crumbled under the weight of scrutiny, his discomfort laid bare for all to see. He could feel the weight of Wonwoo's gaze bearing down on him, exposing his innermost fears and insecurities. In that moment, Mingyu realized that he could never truly escape Wonwoo's penetrating gaze, nor could he hide the truth from someone who could smell deception from a mile away.

Once Seungcheol was called away by his parents, Mingyu swore he felt a shiver run down his spine as Wonwoo spoke. "What's with her presence tonight? I feel like something's up." The intensity of Wonwoo's observation sent a chill through Mingyu, his nerves already frayed from the tension between them.

Shaking his head, Mingyu cautioned his friend, "Don't jinx anything or it'll happen." He knew all too well the power of suggestion, especially when it came from someone as perceptive as Wonwoo.

But Wonwoo merely scoffed at Mingyu's warning. "I'm relieved I'm not married. Married men are sensitive, just look at Seungcheol hyung." He gestured towards the older man with a knowing smirk, emphasizing his point.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his wine to mask his unease. "You're right. Don't get married," he replied, the weight of his own marital struggles weighing heavily on his mind.

Wonwoo's smirk only widened at Mingyu's response. "Got you!" he declared triumphantly, reveling in his ability to tease his friend mercilessly. The playful banter between them did little to ease Mingyu's apprehension, however, as he couldn't shake the feeling that Wonwoo saw right through him, unraveling his secrets with every word exchanged.

Mingyu let out a curse under his breath, his frustration evident as he averted his gaze from his friend. His eyes landed on your figure standing a few feet away, engrossed in conversation with an unfamiliar man. Mingyu's brow furrowed in concern as he turned back to Wonwoo.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Wonwoo followed Mingyu's gaze to where you stood, conversing with the stranger. "Ah, that's Lee Seokmin," Wonwoo explained, his tone casual. "He's the son of Dr. Lee from Seoul University Hospital. I heard he's also a doctor."

Mingyu's frown deepened. "Why is he talking to Y/n?" Mingyu's protective instincts kicked in, his mind racing with questions and scenarios.

Wonwoo shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe they know each other," he suggested. "I've heard Seokmin is a really friendly and affectionate person. He's quite charming, from what I've heard."

Mingyu's unease grew as he watched the interaction between you and Seokmin, his gut twisting with a mixture of jealousy and concern. Despite Wonwoo's attempt to ease his worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the encounter than met the eye.

Mingyu's brows furrowed deeply, his dislike evident in the creases of his forehead and the tension in his jaw. He couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the sight of you conversing so effortlessly with another man. It was rare for you to befriend anyone outside your small circle, especially a man. As far as Mingyu knew, your only close friend was Minseo, and you rarely had any male friends aside from colleagues from work.

Mingyu had been prepared to approach you after handing his glass to Wonwoo. However, his intentions were abruptly halted when a groan echoed from the other side of the room, followed by urgent voices calling for a doctor. Mingyu's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his father slumped into a colleague's arms, clutching his chest in pain. It was happening again—his father's heart troubles.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mingyu sprang into action, his adrenaline kicking in as he rushed to his father's side. Ignoring the curious gazes and the frantic murmurs around him, he focused solely on his father's well-being. With trembling hands, he called out for someone to dial the emergency number, his voice cutting through the chaos of the room.

Fear and urgency flooded Mingyu's senses as he knelt beside his father, his heart pounding in his chest. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him except ensuring his father received the help he desperately needed.

As Mingyu knelt by his father's side, panic and desperation etched on his face, you and Seokmin approached. Seokmin wasted no time in announcing himself as a doctor, offering his assistance in the tense situation. However, before Seokmin could fully extend his help, Mingyu shot him a gaze so intense it momentarily caught Seokmin off guard. The unspoken tension between them hung thick in the air, palpable to anyone observing.

You watched the exchange between Mingyu and Seokmin, sensing the growing discomfort and suspicion emanating from Mingyu. Recognizing the need to diffuse the situation and allow Seokmin to attend to Mingyu's father, you gently intervened. Placing a reassuring hand on Mingyu's shoulder, you spoke softly but firmly.

"He's a doctor, Mingyu. You need to trust him. Your father will be alright," you urged, your voice laced with conviction. With a gentle tug, you pulled Mingyu away from the scene, guiding him to a safe distance where he could observe without feeling overwhelmed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu sat alone in front of his father's patient room, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He absentmindedly picked up a phone call from Wonwoo and Seungcheol, grateful for the distraction, but also using the moment to let himself calm after the pounding in his chest earlier. Leaning his head against the cool wall, he closed his eyes briefly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

The soft click of the door opening broke the silence, and Mingyu's eyes blinked open to find you entering the room. Wordlessly, you settled beside him, a comforting presence in the midst of his turmoil. No words were exchanged, but the sounds of your breaths and sighs filled the space, offering a sense of solace.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Mingyu finally spoke, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was losing my cool."

He watched as you nodded understandingly, your expression gentle and empathetic. "It's okay, I understand," you murmured softly, mirroring his position as you leaned against the wall beside him. In that moment, Mingyu felt a weight lift off his shoulders, grateful for your silent support amidst the chaos of his emotions.

Mingyu's gaze shifted from the scene in front of him to your face, his heart clenching with a tumultuous mix of emotions. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he watched you sit beside him, your presence a stark reminder of the connection you once shared. The sight of you with another man reignited the flames of jealousy within him, fueling his inner turmoil.

Closing his eyes tightly, Mingyu struggled to make sense of his conflicting feelings. Where had the love he once harbored for you gone? Where were the tender emotions that used to fill his heart at the sight of your smile?

His chest tightened with an indiscernible ache as he wrestled with these questions, grappling with the realization that the love he once thought was eternal had somehow slipped through his fingers. In that moment of vulnerability, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for the fractured pieces of his heart.

He glanced at you once again, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. You turned your head to meet his stare, but the warmth and affection that once radiated from his eyes were now replaced by cold indifference. Everything about you seemed to fuel his growing disdain and anger, each breath becoming shallower, sweat trickling down his forehead, and his fingers clenching into tight fists.

As he sat there, consumed by memories of betrayal and heartache, Mingyu couldn't help but wonder how everything had unraveled so quickly. The pain of realizing that the person he once cherished was capable of such deception gnawed at his soul, leaving him feeling hollow and broken.

In that moment, amidst the silence that hung heavily between them, Mingyu knew that the love he once felt for you had been irreparably tainted by the bitterness of betrayal. And as he stared into your eyes, all he could see was the reflection of his own shattered dreams and misplaced trust.

His mind drifted back to the moment when his feelings for you began to sour, a pivotal moment etched into his memory like a scar. It was the day he stumbled upon that innocuous piece of paper tucked away in your desk, a note filled with secrets and lies that shattered his trust in you. From that moment on, the love he once held for you had gradually withered away, leaving behind a festering wound that refused to heal.

"Tell me, what is it?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense silence as he confronted you with the paper clenched tightly in his hand. You approached him cautiously, your heart pounding with apprehension as you took the paper from him. It was an abortion form from the hospital, a stark reminder of the decision you were contemplating.

"You want an abortion? After everything we've been through, I thought you finally could accept me, accept them, accept us!" Mingyu's words were laced with hurt and disbelief, his eyes searching yours for some semblance of understanding.

"Why are you so selfish, Y/n? Don't you ever think about my feelings?" His voice cracked with emotion, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air between you.

"Mingyu, I can explain..." you began, but he cut you off with a weary sigh.

"Stop it, Y/n. You're a grown-up, you're capable of deciding what you want, considering the kind of childhood you had," Mingyu's tone was resigned, his disappointment palpable.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you because of your mom, but our child doesn't deserve the same treatment. You want to... to kill them? That's evil, Y/n," Mingyu's voice wavered with a mixture of anger and sorrow, his heart breaking at the thought of losing the child he had already grown to love.

"You're just like your mom," the words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and pain, as Mingyu turned away from you, unable to bear the weight of the truth any longer.

.Weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of Mingyu's door, your hand poised to knock. With a deep breath, you hesitated, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you prepared yourself for what lay beyond that threshold. But before you could make a move, the door swung open, revealing Mingyu standing there in his pajamas, a mug in hand.

Surprise flickered across your features as you met his gaze, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of hope in your heart. Mingyu's expression was unreadable, his eyes guarded as he studied you in silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

You swallowed hard, searching for the right words to convey the turmoil swirling within you. "I... I wanted to talk," you replied hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu nodded, his gesture a silent invitation for you to enter. "I was about to grab some water. Do you want some?" he offered, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth that belied the tension lingering between you.

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his offer and followed him into his sanctuary. The room felt familiar yet foreign, a sanctuary for both of you months ago before you decided to sleep in the other room. He motioned for you to sit on the sofa next to his bed while he settled himself at his office desk, the glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his features.

As you watched him, a pang of guilt tugged at your heart. Mingyu seemed lost in his thoughts, his brow furrowed with concentration as he continued to work even in this late hour. The sight of him laboring away despite the heaviness weighing on his shoulders filled you with a sense of admiration and regret.

"If I'm disturbing you from working, we can talk tomorrow morning," you offered tentatively, the doubt evident in your voice.

Mingyu shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "I'm done anyway," he replied, his fingers moving to shut off his computer with a decisive click. Turning his full attention to you, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"What is it you want to say?" he asked, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. In that moment, as you sat face to face with Mingyu in the quiet solitude of his room, you knew that the time for honesty and reconciliation had finally come.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I'm aware that Seungcheol might have already told you about this, but I'm resigning," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil churning within you.

Mingyu nodded, his expression somber as he removed his glasses, the weariness evident in the lines etched on his face. "Yeah, he called me right away," he confirmed, his hand moving to massage his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion.

"After we divorced, I'm going to move to Canada," you continued, your words heavy with the weight of impending change. "I'm going to have treatment there."

As you spoke, Mingyu's gaze softened, a mixture of understanding and sadness flickering in his eyes. Mingyu's brow furrowed, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Is our psychiatrist here not enough that you have to get treated there?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

You nodded, unable to muster the strength to offer a further explanation. Despite his inquiry, Mingyu's gaze seemed distant, his attention drifting away as if the topic held no significance to him. It was a stark reminder that the care and concern he once held for you had long since dissipated, replaced by an indifferent detachment.

As you looked at Mingyu, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. The realization that he no longer had any interest in your well-being only served to deepen the rift between you, highlighting the distance that had grown between you over time.

"What about you? Do you have any plans after our divorce settlement?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the impending separation hanging heavily between you.

Mingyu shook his head, his response clipped and devoid of emotion. "I'm just going to live my life like usual," he replied, his tone betraying the indifference he felt towards the situation. It was a stark reminder of the disconnect that had grown between you, the sense of being mere strangers occupying the same space.

As the conversation turned towards your impending move and your relationship with your mother, Mingyu's demeanor remained distant, his words lacking any genuine concern. The tension between you hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating any hope of reconciliation or understanding.

With each passing moment, the discomfort in your stomach grew, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil swirling within you. You struggled to maintain your composure as the pain intensified, your mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken fears.

Feeling lightheaded and nauseous, you knew you couldn't continue the conversation any longer. With a trembling voice, you declared that you were done talking, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Mingyu's presence.

As you rose from your seat, the cramps in your stomach intensified, sending waves of agony coursing through your body. With every step, you fought to conceal your pain, unwilling to show any weakness in front of Mingyu.

But as you turned to leave, a burning question lingered in your mind, demanding to be heard. With a shaky breath, you uttered his name, your voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room.

"Mingyu..."

"Don't you wanna know my feelings about our divorcee?"

There was a pregnant pause as you awaited his response, the tension thickening between you like a taut string on the verge of snapping. And then, finally, his answer came, cold and final.

"I know you've been waiting for this. I'm sorry for holding you long enough."

His words pierced through you like a dagger, the finality of his apology crushing any lingering hope of salvaging what was left of your relationship. With a heavy heart, you turned away, the weight of his indifference crushing you as you stumbled towards the door.

But before you could escape, the pain became too much to bear, and darkness closed in around you, pulling you into unconsciousness. And as you crumpled to the floor, the last thing you saw was Mingyu's impassive gaze, a silent witness to the collapse of everything you had once held dear.

Three weeks before Seungcheol's wedding, life was a whirlwind of chaos and excitement. As his trusted assistant, you juggled his hectic schedule while also overseeing the wedding preparations. However, there was an added complication: you were five months pregnant. Only a month had passed since your honeymoon, and taking leave now would burden everyone. Despite feeling a severe burning sensation in your chest, you soldiered on, determined not to let anyone down.

On that fateful day, after wrapping up a meeting with a client alongside Seungcheol and Junhui, the sensation in your chest escalated, leaving you gasping for air. You motioned desperately to Junhui for assistance, the panic evident in your eyes. Seungcheol, occupied with driving his own car, was unaware of your distress as you shared a vehicle with Junhui. Sensing the urgency, Junhui wasted no time and swiftly steered the car towards the nearest hospital.

The drive felt agonizingly long as you struggled to maintain composure, each breath a struggle against the tightening grip of fear. Junhui's concern was palpable, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mixture of urgency and worry. With each passing moment, the weight of the situation pressed down upon you, threatening to overwhelm.

Finally, the hospital loomed into view, a beacon of hope in the midst of turmoil. Junhui guided you inside, his steadying presence offering a sliver of reassurance amidst the chaos. As you were ushered into the emergency room, a flood of emotions washed over you – fear, uncertainty, and a profound sense of vulnerability.

In that moment, as you awaited medical attention, the true magnitude of the situation dawned upon you. The wedding, the responsibilities, all faded into insignificance in the face of this sudden health crisis. All that mattered now was the well-being of yourself and your unborn child.

For the first time, you heard the dreaded words: preeclampsia. The burning sensation that had plagued you for days, you now learned, wasn't just discomfort—it was a warning sign, a miniature heart attack triggered by hypertension during your pregnancy.

"Mrs. Ji," the doctor's voice pulled you from your thoughts, "from your health records, it appears you were in a car accident twenty years ago. Do you recall what injuries you sustained?"

Your head shook slowly, memories from that time shrouded in fog. "No," you murmured, "I barely remember anything from back then."

Doctor Lee Seokmin nodded, his expression grave. "It seems you underwent both heart and neurosurgery as a result of that accident. Unfortunately, those procedures have contributed to your current struggle with preeclampsia during this pregnancy."

A furrow formed between your brows as you processed the implications. "What should I do?" Your hands instinctively moved to cradle your burgeoning stomach, a protective gesture.

"It's strongly recommended that you consider terminating the pregnancy before it's too late," Dr. Lee advised gently. "Carrying the baby poses significant risks to your health, even to the point of endangering your life."

The weight of his words settled heavily upon you. "In simpler terms," he continued, his tone sympathetic yet firm, "your heart is struggling to supply blood for both you and the baby. Not only does this jeopardize your own safety, but the chances of the baby surviving are also slim. I urge you to carefully consider your options."

Tears welled in your eyes as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was a devastating choice to make, a painful crossroads where the life of your unborn child hung in the balance against your own.

Your heart ached with the weight of the decision ahead. Every beat seemed to echo the uncertainty of your future, intertwined with the life growing within you. As you sat in the sterile hospital room, the silence enveloped you, broken only by the rhythmic hum of medical equipment.

The thought of ending the pregnancy felt like a betrayal—a betrayal to the life blossoming inside you, a betrayal to the dreams you had woven around the idea of motherhood. But the stark reality laid out by Dr. Lee left little room for sentimentality. It was a matter of survival, a harsh truth that demanded to be faced.

You turned your gaze to your stomach, where the faint flutter of movement reminded you of the fragile existence nestled within. How could you choose between your own life and the life you had already begun to nurture?

Questions swirled in your mind, each one a thorn digging deeper into your already burdened heart. Would you be able to live with the knowledge that your decision may cost the life of your child? Could you bear the guilt of choosing self-preservation over the chance of motherhood?

Yet amidst the turmoil, a glimmer of resolve flickered within you. As painful as it was, you knew that you couldn't risk leaving your family behind, couldn't bear the thought of leaving your loved ones to mourn a life lost too soon.

With a heavy sigh, you met Dr. Lee's gaze, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. It was time to make the choice that would shape the course of your future, a choice that carried the weight of both sorrow and hope.

At the end, you still choose chance of motherhood. You'll found solution along with Mingyu. You would never terminate your pregnancy.

One haunting truth lingered in the shadows of your mind, a specter of betrayal from the past. It was the knowledge that your own mother had once plotted to end your life in that fateful car accident. Night after night, you found yourself jolting awake from restless slumber, the echoes of that near-tragedy replaying in your nightmares.

Mingyu, your husband, was keenly aware of your nightly struggles. Yet, despite his understanding, a palpable distance had settled between you in the wake of the doctor's grim recommendation. The discovery of the abortion form seemed to widen the chasm, a silent testament to the gulf that had formed between your hearts.

You found solace in the nursery room, seeking refuge amidst the soft hues and gentle whispers of promise that filled the space. But even here, the weight of Mingyu's silence pressed down upon you like an unbearable burden. Each night, as you lay alone in the darkness, tears would silently trace their paths down your cheeks, mingling with the whispers of doubt that haunted your thoughts.

Breakfast became a solitary affair, the clink of utensils against porcelain echoing in the empty spaces between you. And though you shared the same table come dinnertime, the silence between you was deafening, each lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts.

You longed for the warmth of Mingyu's embrace, for the reassurance of his presence in the midst of uncertainty. Yet, his absence—both physical and emotional—cast a shadow over your shared existence, leaving you adrift in a sea of solitude.

As the days stretched into a week of silent anguish, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end, if the fractures in your relationship would widen into irreparable chasms. And in the quiet of the night, as sleep eluded you once more, you found yourself grappling with the weight of unanswered questions and the ache of unspoken words.

As you stepped through the threshold of your home, a sense of unease gripped you at the sight of the moving crew bustling about, their movements purposeful as they carted away pieces of your life. The crib, once a symbol of hope and anticipation, now stood bereft of its place in the nursery.

Summoning a flicker of courage, you ventured into the room, your heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. Mingyu, usually ensconced in his office, was seated at his desk, his attention focused on the screen before him.

"Why are they moving our stuff?" you ventured, the words trembling on your lips as you sought his gaze.

His response was chilling, devoid of the warmth and familiarity you had grown accustomed to. "What stuff?" His tone was colder than the winter wind, sending shivers down your spine.

A surge of panic rose within you as you struggled to find your voice. "They moved out our baby stuff!" The words spilled out, laced with desperation and a tinge of disbelief.

But Mingyu's reply pierced through the fragile facade of hope, extinguishing it with brutal finality. "We don't have a baby." His words hung in the air like a heavy curtain, separating you from the life you had envisioned together.

The weight of his denial crushed you, leaving you gasping for breath in its suffocating grip. How could he dismiss the dreams you had nurtured, the plans you had woven for the future? It felt like a betrayal, a betrayal of the love you had shared and the promises you had made to each other.

Tears welled in your eyes as the reality of his words sank in, a painful reminder of the chasm that had widened between you. And as you stood there, face to face with the stark truth of your shattered hopes, you couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of the end—a silent requiem for the life that might have been.

The air crackled with tension as you took determined steps towards Mingyu's desk, your heart pounding in your chest. With a trembling hand, you reached out and turned off his computer, the abruptness of the action punctuating the charged atmosphere.

"What do you mean? Stop acting like this!" Your voice wavered with a mixture of frustration and desperation, the words tumbling out in a rush as you confronted him head-on.

Mingyu's gaze flickered up to meet yours, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Do whatever you want, Y/n," he replied curtly, his tone laced with indifference.

"Kim Mingyu!" The use of his full name was a reflex, a testament to the gravity of the situation that hung between you like a heavy fog.

A bitter taste rose in your throat as his words cut through the silence like a knife. "Seeing them makes me sick, Y/n," he spat, his voice tinged with a venomous edge.

Your heart clenched at his callousness, the sting of betrayal slicing through the facade of composure you had struggled to maintain. "Don't you see how betrayed I am right now?" Mingyu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you! I love our life! But seeing that abortion form hurt me."

Tears threatened to spill over as you struggled to convey the depth of your pain, the weight of Mingyu's words bearing down on you like a crushing burden. The rift between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow you whole.

But amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope remained—a glimmer of the love that had once bound you together, a fragile thread that refused to be severed. And as you stood there, locked in a battle of wills and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was still a chance to bridge the divide and find solace in each other's arms once more.

"Stop acting like you're the only one suffering here!" The words burst forth from your lips, fueled by a potent mix of frustration and despair. "I don't want to do it either! But I have to, Mingyu! I have to!" Each syllable was laden with the weight of your anguish, the struggle to convey the depth of your turmoil.

Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned plea. But when he scoffed in response, a surge of indignation rose within you like a tidal wave. "Don't you see I'm working on it?" you cried out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm trying my best to keep them. Stop telling me I'm selfish! You're selfish, you only think about what you're feeling this week and you left me! You left me alone!"

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth laid bare in the starkness of your words. Mingyu's silence spoke volumes, his refusal to acknowledge your pain a sharp sting that cut deeper than any words could.

"So your feeling is the only one that's valid?" Mingyu's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, his tone laced with disdain.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within you. "You don't know what kind of sorrow I've been hiding until they turned into anger," you mumbled, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, unable to bear the weight of his indifference any longer. "And now, I'm the bad person," you whispered to yourself, the words a bitter reminder of the rift that had formed between you.

Leaving Mingyu in his office, you retreated to the sanctuary of the nursery, seeking solace amidst the familiar surroundings. With a heavy sigh, you instructed your house assistant to have a bed and your belongings moved into the child's room, unable to face Mingyu with the swirling emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

Mingyu stood vigil beside your hospital bed, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. The sight of you collapsing before his very eyes had propelled him into action, rushing you to the hospital in a frantic blur of fear and desperation. Now, as he waited for you to wake, he could only hope and pray that the doctors would bring him good news.

The doctor's somber presence loomed over Mingyu, a harbinger of the grim tidings that were to come. His voice, measured and grave, cut through the silence like a blade, delivering the devastating news of your deteriorating health.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Kim, but the cancerous growth in your wife's cervix has progressed significantly," the doctor intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

Mingyu's brow furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to grasp the gravity of the situation. "What do you mean? What cancer?" he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

The doctor's sympathetic gaze softened as he attempted to simplify the complex medical details for Mingyu's benefit. "The cancer has spread, Mr. Kim. It's worsening, and we need to discuss our options moving forward."

Panic surged within Mingyu like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him as he grappled with the harsh reality of your diagnosis. "But she's young, she's healthy," he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "How could this happen?"

In response, the doctor guided Mingyu through the medical history recorded in your files, shedding light on the shadowy truths hidden within. "In your wife's medical records, it's noted that she experienced a miscarriage in February, likely due to complications related to the cervical tumor."

The mention of the miscarriage sent a shiver down Mingyu's spine, a cruel reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured in silence. "A miscarriage?" he echoed, the word heavy with sorrow and regret.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," the doctor confirmed gently. "I'll arrange for you to meet with the physician who has been attending to your wife. We'll discuss the next steps together."

"I'm sorry that you have to find out this way, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee Seokmin stated with genuine regret, his voice heavy with sympathy. He watched Mingyu closely, noting the confusion that flickered across his face before understanding settled in. Mingyu's expression shifted, revealing a mix of disbelief and realization.

Dr. Lee's regretful tone only deepened Mingyu's sense of unease. How long had you been living with this condition without even him knowing? The weight of the revelation settled heavily on his shoulders, and Mingyu felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and a profound sense of loss for the time he could never get back.

As the truth sank in, Mingyu found himself grappling with a new reality, one he hadn't anticipated when he walked through the office doors. Dr. Lee's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of staying vigilant about one's health. Mingyu nodded slowly, his mind whirring with unanswered questions and a newfound determination to confront whatever lay ahead.

"This is what her cervix looks like," Dr. Lee explained, his voice somber as he pointed to the results of your x-rays, highlighting the ominous spread of cancer. Mingyu's eyes widened as he took in the stark contrast between the current image and the last one, where the cancerous tumor had been detected.

"I already suggested Mrs. Ji to do her chemotherapy a week after her miscarriage, but I did understand why she didn't come. However, she hasn't come at all," Dr. Lee continued, his tone tinged with disappointment and concern.

Mingyu's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. He felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a sense of helplessness. His mind raced with thoughts of you, your missed appointments, and the potential consequences of your absence.

A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu's lips, betraying the turmoil raging within him. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a nagging question persisted, demanding to be acknowledged.

"Miscarriage?" Mingyu finally spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and desperation. It was a question that had been haunting him since he first learned of your diagnosis. Denial clawed at the edges of his consciousness, but deep down, he knew he couldn't ignore the harsh reality laid out before him any longer.

"Yes, Mr. Kim," Dr. Lee began, his tone gentle yet firm as he sought to elucidate the complexities of your situation to Mingyu. "She had refused to undergo the abortion and chose to proceed with the pregnancy after experiencing her first bout of preeclampsia in the last week of January."

Mingyu listened intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the gravity of Dr. Lee's words. The choice you had made, despite the risks and uncertainties, spoke volumes about your unwavering determination and resilience.

"However," Dr. Lee continued, his voice tinged with regret, "she suffered a miscarriage on February 20th due to stress and exhaustion, which later led us to discover the presence of her tumor."

The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, a sobering reminder of the fragility of life and the trials you had endured in silence. Mingyu's heart ached with the weight of the knowledge, the pain of your loss etched into the lines of his face.

As Dr. Lee moved on to the next slide, outlining potential treatment options for your condition, Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on the screen, his mind racing with a flurry of emotions. Hope mingled with apprehension as he considered the possibility of a path forward, one that held the promise of healing and renewal.

With each word spoken by the doctor, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope begin to take root within him, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had clouded his thoughts. And as he looked towards the future, his resolve hardened, his determination to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

"In South Korea, we haven't had access to this technology," Dr. Lee explained, his tone tinged with a note of regret. "However, this treatment has been proven with an 80% success rate in terminating cervical cancer and is available in Ottawa."

As the words sank in, a realization dawned on Mingyu. You wanted to go to Canada for treatment all along. But why hadn't you mentioned it earlier? Why keep it a secret until now? Mingyu's mind buzzed with questions, each one a jagged edge cutting into the fragile fabric of trust between you.

Lost in his thoughts, Mingyu hadn't even realized that he had been studying your face, searching for answers in the depths of your expression. But all he found was the echo of his own confusion mirrored back at him, a silent testament to the barriers that had grown between you.

A swell of emotions threatened to overwhelm Mingyu as he grappled with the revelation, his heart heavy with the weight of betrayal and longing. Had you been hiding the truth from him all along? And if so, why? The questions swirled in his mind, a relentless storm that refused to be quelled.

But amidst the turmoil, Mingyu couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited within him—the possibility of finding a solution, a lifeline in the form of treatment abroad. And as he looked towards the future, his determination hardened, his resolve to stand by your side unwavering in the face of adversity.

Regret washed over Mingyu like a torrential downpour, each drop heavy with the weight of missed opportunities and misunderstood intentions. The abortion form you had brought home—the very same document he had reacted to with such cold indifference—was now a haunting reminder of the choices you had made: to keep the baby and the assumptions he had drawn.

It dawned on Mingyu with a gut-wrenching clarity that the moment you had returned home without a baby bump, it wasn't because you had terminated the pregnancy, but because you had suffered a miscarriage. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying his senses with the stark truth of your pain.

Tears welled up in Mingyu's eyes, his vision blurred as he grappled with the possibility that his actions, his lack of understanding and support, may have played a role in your suffering. The thought pierced through the armor of his pride, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to the raw emotions that surged within him.

Guilt clawed at Mingyu's chest, a relentless monster gnawing at his conscience as he wrestled with the consequences of his ignorance. Had he been too quick to judge, too blind to see the depth of your struggles? The realization gnawed at him, a bitter pill to swallow as he confronted the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

In that moment, as tears silently trailed down his cheeks, Mingyu found himself consumed by a sense of profound remorse—a longing to turn back the hands of time and rewrite the narrative, to be the partner you needed in your darkest hour. But as the weight of his regrets settled upon him, Mingyu knew that he could only move forward, armed with the newfound clarity of hindsight and a determination to make amends.

"How far along are you?" Mingyu's voice cut through the tense air of the room as he sat confidently in front of your mother, the formidable CEO of JIS Corp. She exuded an aura of sharpness and rigidity, her piercing gaze sizing him up with every word she spoke.

You sat nervously beside Mingyu, acutely aware of the weight of your mother's scrutiny as she fired off a series of offensive questions, her demeanor dripping with arrogance. Mingyu, however, remained unfazed, his posture exuding confidence as he mirrored your mother's demeanor, ready to engage in the contest of wills that lay before him.

"I'm in my fourth month," you answered quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure under your mother's intense scrutiny.

As your mother settled into her seat across from you and Mingyu, her body language radiated dominance, a stark contrast to Mingyu's calm and collected demeanor. Despite the tension that hung in the air, Mingyu pressed on, determined to make a favorable impression on your mother, the woman who held the key to your future.

Your mother asked you to leave her alone with him. Mingyu sent you an assurance nodd before you rose from your seat and walked away to the kitchen.

"You know Y/n is not my daughter?" your mother's question hung in the air, a challenge disguised as a statement.

Mingyu nodded calmly, his gaze meeting your mother's without hesitation. "I'm aware of that," he replied evenly, "but she was legally adopted by your husband before he married you. So while she may not be biologically related to you, she is legally your daughter."

"What do you want, Kim Mingyu?" your mother's voice dripped with skepticism, her tone a clear indication that she was not easily swayed.

Mingyu's response was swift and direct. "Your resort label is facing bankruptcy," he began, his voice steady and confident. "I propose a merger with my own label. You'll gain financial stability and a positive reputation, while also giving Y/n her rightful share and putting an end to your surveillance of her."

As your mother considered his offer, Mingyu continued, his tone unwavering. "After marrying me, Y/n will gain social power and influence. She'll be able to hold JIS Corp accountable if they continue to deny her rights as an heir."

Your mother hesitated for a moment before raising two fingers in a gesture of negotiation. "Two years. Two years of merger, and then I'll hand her the share."

Mingyu shook his head firmly. "A year," he countered, his resolve unwavering.

"Two," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

Mingyu leaned back in his seat, shaking his head once more. "Then forget it. My resort label is too valuable to be compromised. And besides, with Y/n's newfound social status, she'll have the power to hold JIS Corp accountable."

Your mother's expression softened slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching as she weighed her options. "Okay," she relented at last, "a year is enough."

As Sora finally drifted off to sleep, her tear-stained cheeks still hauntingly fresh in your mind, you tiptoed out of the bedroom with a sense of quiet relief. Closing the door behind you with practiced care, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the day's emotional turmoil settling heavily upon your shoulders.

Today marked Sora's third birthday, a joyous occasion overshadowed by the absence of her father, who was miles away on a business trip. The sound of her plaintive cries had echoed through the house, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in pursuit of success and stability.

Making your way to the kitchen island, you reached for a bottle of mineral water, the cool liquid offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos of your thoughts. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, your work as a full-time writer left unfinished as you devoted every waking moment to comforting and caring for your daughter.

As a writer, your focus had shifted towards women's and healthy lifestyle topics, a reflection of your own journey towards wellness and empowerment. Even during your treatment in Ottawa, you had continued your studies in creative writing, determined to pursue your passion despite the challenges that lay in your path.

Returning to South Korea after completing your treatment, you had been met with a new opportunity—a promotion to Chief Editorial at the Seoul branch of a prestigious magazine. It was a testament to your resilience and determination, a testament to the strength that had carried you through the darkest of times.

But as you stood in the quiet of the kitchen, the echoes of Sora's cries still lingering in the air, you couldn't help but feel the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you. Balancing motherhood with a demanding career was no easy feat, but with each passing day, you found strength in the love you shared with your daughter, a love that knew no bounds and blood, fueled your determination to succeed, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

The sound of the door's password being unlocked drew your attention away from your thoughts, causing you to rise from your seat with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. Your husband had returned home, his weary figure a stark contrast to the usual air of confidence and charm that surrounded him. Yet, despite the exhaustion etched into his features, he still managed to exude a quiet sense of grace and poise.

As he entered the house, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, his disheveled appearance doing nothing to diminish his innate handsomeness. With a gentle smile, you stepped forward to greet him, offering a comforting hand to help him shed the burdensome weight of his suit and tie.

"I miss you so much," he whispered into your ear, his voice laced with a palpable longing that mirrored your own.

"How about Sora?" you inquired, your concern for your daughter never far from your mind even in the midst of your reunion with your husband.

A flicker of realization crossed his features as he almost forgot about his sweet little cupcake, Sora. "Is she asleep already?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of guilt at the oversight.

You nodded in response, offering him an exhausted yet understanding smile. The trials of the day had taken their toll on both of you, but in this moment, as you stood close together, the warmth of your shared love enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the strength and resilience that bound your family together.

"I had to read her three books before she finally fell asleep. So don't you ever try to wake her up," you warned him playfully, a hint of exhaustion still evident in your voice as you recounted the bedtime routine with Sora. Despite the weariness, there was a sense of fondness in your words, a testament to the love and dedication you poured into your role as a mother.

Your husband let out a soft chuckle at your admonishment, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace as he pulled you close. His presence was a comforting balm against the strains of the day, offering solace in the midst of the chaos that had defined your evening.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "The seminar went longer than expected. My flight was delayed, and I had to book another one to get home quicker. But I'm still this late."

You offered a reassuring smile, your hand gently tapping his back in a gesture of understanding and support. "There's always tomorrow, babe," you whispered, your words a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, time was but a fleeting commodity compared to the enduring bond you shared as a family.

Your husband's touch was gentle yet firm as he pushed your body back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. "Tomorrow is February 20th," he whispered softly, the weight of the date hanging heavily between you.

You nodded in acknowledgment, your heart fluttering with a mixture of apprehension and longing as you contemplated the significance of the day. It was a day etched into your memory, a painful reminder of the loss you had endured and the scars that still lingered.

"Do you want to introduce Sora to him?" your husband asked gently, his voice a tender caress against the quiet of the room. "I think she's ready for that."

A surge of emotion welled up within you at the suggestion, a bittersweet blend of hope and trepidation. It had been a journey marked by grief and healing, a journey you had traversed with Sora by your side every step of the way.

"I'd love to," you replied softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I think... I'm ready too."

Your husband's eyes softened with pride and admiration as he gazed at you, his words a soothing balm to the wounds that still lingered within your heart. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "You're doing so great."

In that moment, as you stood together on the precipice of a new chapter, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within you—a glimmer of light amidst the darkness that had once threatened to consume you whole. And with your husband by your side, you knew that whatever tomorrow may bring, you would face it together, united in love and resilience.

Your steps faltered as you heard Mingyu engaged in conversation with someone inside his office. You had come to discuss something with him this morning, but now your attention was fully captured by the voices drifting out through the open door.

"You knocked somebody?" A deeper voice queried, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Hm... Not entirely false! Yes, but she's not just somebody. She's someone I care about," Mingyu's voice replied, sending a ripple of confusion and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's pretty odd to hear that you care about someone. Who is she? Do I know her?" The other person's voice sounded vaguely familiar, prompting you to hazard a guess at their identity.

"She's Seungcheol hyung's secretary," Mingyu revealed, dropping your name into the conversation without preamble.

There was a pregnant pause before your name was spoken again, this time with a note of surprise. "Ji Y/n?"

"Yeah, she reminds me of her," Mingyu's voice confirmed, sending a jolt of uncertainty coursing through you.

"That's not enough reason to marry her, Kim Mingyu," the other person's voice retorted, their words hanging heavy in the air.

Your mind raced with a flurry of emotions as you struggled to process Mingyu's revelation. The realization that he saw shades of someone else in you, someone you didn't even know, left you feeling adrift in a sea of confusion and doubt.

As snippets of memories flooded your mind—moments of tenderness and affection shared between you and Mingyu over the past few weeks—a pang of sadness gripped your heart. Had his gestures of romance and chivalry been driven by genuine affection, or were they merely echoes of a love he once knew?

Caught between the pull of your growing feelings for Mingyu and the unsettling revelation of his comparison, you found yourself at a crossroads. What should you do? You had fallen for him, despite the uncertainty that now clouded your heart. But could you truly build a future with someone who saw you as a reflection of another?

As the tall figure emerged from Mingyu's office, you felt a knot form in your stomach. He paused as his gaze locked onto yours, and you rose from your seat, attempting to maintain a composed facade despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"You're Ji Y/n? Seungcheol hyung's secretary?" His voice was deep and authoritative, yet there was a hint of curiosity in his tone as he addressed you.

You offered him a polite smile and nodded in confirmation. "Yes, that's correct. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon."

"I've seen you around, but this is our first time talking," Mr. Jeon remarked, his demeanor friendly yet reserved. "Nice to meet you too. Let's be more friendly in the future."

With those words, Mr. Jeon bid you farewell, leaving you to grapple with the weight of his presence and the implications of his unexpected encounter. Mentally preparing yourself for what lay ahead, you took a deep breath and steeling yourself for the challenges that awaited you.

As you entered Mingyu's office, your mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts and emotions. With each step, you reminded yourself of the decisions that lay before you, the choices that would shape your future.

Keep the baby.

Get your share.

Have a happy life.

The words echoed in your mind, a mantra of determination and resolve as you braced yourself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead.

To be continued.

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requiemforthepoets · 2 months ago

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en garde! 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.

WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest

FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others

ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘

view all 12,837 comments

charles_leclerc when are you coming home?

ynleclerc idk, why?

charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐

ynleclerc what…🧍🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐

username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭

username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭

username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉

landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔

ynleclerc bro what 😭

landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid

ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil

landonorris 😠😠😠😠

sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!

ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰

username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠

ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?

francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!

username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳

ynleclerc posted a story!

liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others

charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔

charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔

charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔

ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭

ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?

ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️

francisca.cgomes YAY!!

username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️

username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)

MONACO

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.

“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”

Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”

“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”

“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”

“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”

“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.

“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.

Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”

“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.

“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.

“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.

Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”

“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”

You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”

“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”

“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.

Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”

“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.

“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.

You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”

Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.

“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.

“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”

Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”

“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”

“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.

“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”

“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.

Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”

“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”

“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.

“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.

Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”

“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.

You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”

“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.

Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.

“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.

“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.

You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”

“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.

“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”

“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.

”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.

“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”

Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”

“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”

“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”

Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”

“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.

“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”

Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.

“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.

“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”

“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.

“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”

“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.

“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”

Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”

“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”

The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”

“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”

“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”

You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”

“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.

“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”

Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”

“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.

“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”

Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.

Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”

Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”

“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”

“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”

Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.

“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”

“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.

Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”

“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”

You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.

You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.

“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.

Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.

“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.

“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.

“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”

“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.

“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”

You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”

Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.

“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”

Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”

You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.

“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”

“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”

You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.

“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.

“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.

“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”

Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.

“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”

“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”

You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”

Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.

“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.

“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.

“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”

Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”

Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”

“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”

“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.

“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”

“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”

“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.

You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”

Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”

You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.

“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.

Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.

“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”

He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.

“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”

Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”

“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”

As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.

“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.

Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”

“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”

The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.

“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”

By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”

“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”

Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.

“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”

Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”

“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”

“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”

Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”

The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.

Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.

“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.

“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”

“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”

The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.

Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”

“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”

“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”

Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”

Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”

Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”

“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”

Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”

Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”

“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”

You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”

“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”

“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”

“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”

Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”

Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“No promises.” You teased.

Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”

You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”

“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”

“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”

“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”

All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.

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yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)

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username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮‍💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!

landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔

yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻

charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️

landonorris i see that you have taken my advice

yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡

landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻

yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨

yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁

landonorris ME NEXT PLS

yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭

lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!

landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND

landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES

yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????

landonorris EXCUSED

username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????

yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔

username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭

username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭

username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔

username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔

username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔

username12 omg u right 😭😭😭

username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁

scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔

username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻

username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees

username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐

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