#slam dunk masterlist

[callmerainman]

CALLMERAINMAN'S MASTERLIST

↳ my AO3

↳ my TikTok editing acc

𝐌𝐎𝐁 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝟏𝟎𝟎

Reigen Arataka

✧˚ · . one shots

Still Into You | fem!Reader

Nowhere Near You | fem!Reader

The Morning After | fem!Reader 18+!

Wishing You Godspeed | fem!Reader 18+!

Cameras | model!fem!Reader

✧˚ · . headcanons and playlists

Reigen Arataka's shady playlist to scam people

Reigen Arataka with a s/o who works as a model

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋

Alastor

✧˚ · . headcanons and playlists

Alastor with a pure hearted s/o | gn!Reader

Alastor in a relationship with a pure hearted s/o | gn!Reader

Alastor realising his feelings for a pure hearted s/o | gn!Reader

Adam

✧˚ · . headcanons and playlists

First Man on the Earth still couldn't hit this | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

Hellfire | Adam x fire-demon!Reader

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

Knuckle Bine

✧˚ · . oneshots

You Before The World | fem!Reader

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐌 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐊

Hanamichi Sakuragi

✧˚ · . headcanons and playlists

Hanamichi Sakuragi's pre-game hype playlist

Dating Sakuragi would include

Hisashi Mitsui

✧˚ · . headcanons and playlists

Dating Mitsui would include

[winternet-s]

jujutsu kaisen :

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*begin, beginning - g. satoru: [name] living creature of Frost, a planet where girls have little to no rights decide to leave after hearing the story of a woman who escaped the planet to live on Earth. And this one night [name] also tried.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cupid is dumb - g.satoru : in which [name] is the cupid of her after helping tons of students with their relationships or crushes, satoru included - but who could fool cupid in terms of romance ?

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ stuck in you - platonic, fem!reader : in which [name], yuuji, megumi, and nobara had one mission to eliminate the curse but find themselves into each other's bodies.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･la foule - g.satoru: after a rough day your friends encouraged you to go to the festival of the village, the moment of dance came into the frame, and by changing partners destiny gave you that one brown-haired man.

!★ totally...spies ‐ g.suguru: it's the story of four friends who are spies living a life as high school students that is anything but normal. Undercover for the secret organization Whoop, they travel the world to protect the innocent and save lives. Balancing dangerous missions with the everyday challenges of adolescence, they navigate a world filled with secrets, betrayals, and thrilling adventures.

SLAM DUNK

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ misunderstood - slam dunk: After moving to Japan over a year ago, [Name] faces the challenges of xenophobia, cultural barriers, and fitting into a society that sees her as an outsider. As she struggles with isolation, an unexpected encounter with Hanamichi Sakuragi, the school's notorious red-haired delinquent, throws her life into even more chaos. Between harsh whispers in the hallways and the surprising friendships she forms, [Name] is about to discover that fitting in means more than just blending into the background. – – prologue, pt.1, pt.2

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･camping is for falling in love – r.miyagi : After Shohoku’s big win, you invite the team to your family’s camping site for a night under the stars. It’s supposed to be all fun and games—until Ryota Miyagi sees his chance to finally confess his feelings for you. With the fire crackling and the team teasing, he’s ready to open up… if his nerves (and Sakuragi's ego) don’t get in the way first.

[luvf4ngz]

In Bloom - jason todd.

Contents: Marking, Biting, Scratching, Possessiveness, Implied Sexual Content

Word Count: 464

Authors Note: Consider this a love letter to Jason Todd and my marking kink - taken from my AO3 <3

For the most part, Jason Todd enjoys the powers that he got from his dunk in the lazarus pits. Increased strength, increased speed, and increased stamina - things like that made it easy for him to do his job. To take down the baddies of Gotham and clean her from the inside out. To protect the ones he cared for, to protect the ones that didn’t have anyone else.

One thing he hated, however, was his healing factor. 

He hates how fucking fast your scratches and hickies disappeared off his body, leaving him a blank and loveless canvas once again. 

He always craves your marks on his skin. He absolutely adores the scattered love bites and dark bruises decorating his frame. He can often be seen in the bathroom of your shared home, body twisted in the mirror as he admires the deep carmine strokes that paint his back, or leaning in close to lovingly rub at the mauve blotches that stain the skin of his neck. 

He makes it a habit to show off your markings, often refusing to sport a shirt wherever he’s out and about - or at the very least a quite revealing muscle tee. His marked skin makes his friends’ eyes roll, makes his brothers give him disgusted expressions, and makes strangers on the streets grimace at him. 

He doesn’t care. He's shameless, especially when it comes to you. 

He always just wants to show you off, to express how fucking grateful he is to be yours. 

That's why he always encourages you to sink your teeth in harder, to rake your nails down his back harsher, anything to make those little symbols of your love for him last longer.

“That’s right, princess, there you go. You’re taking me so well, huh? Hold onto me a little tighter.”

In return, he’ll slam his cock into you faster, grip onto the soft of your hips harder, bite and mark you up himself. He paints your body like Monet, because to him you’re definitely as precious as the most exquisite work of art in the world.

He’ll never get enough of feeling how your skin gives way to his sharp canines, or how your shaking body feels under his calloused fingertips.

It’s the thought of losing you, of ever having to let you go that makes him fuck you rougher - that makes him hide his face in the crook of your neck and dent your skin with his teeth.

He relishes the sight of you the next morning: spread out on the bed with telltale signs of lovemaking covering every inch of your flesh. 

He can feel his heart beating out his chest, feel his blood thrumming furiously under your veins because you’re so wholly and undoubtedly his.

Just as he is yours. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him. 

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it. 

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing. 

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject. 

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!" 

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back. 

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment. 

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it. 

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you. 

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her. 

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it. 

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt. 

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw 

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email. 

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

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind. 

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him. 

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions. 

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight. 

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now. 

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[cyripticchronicler]

Ink and Destiny - James Potter

In a world full of soulmates, the last thing you'd expect is James Potter to be yours.

Warnings: Soulmate au, swearing

Masterlist

Part two Part three Part four

The Hogwarts Library was always your place to go if you needed to escape. Nothing but the quiet turns of pages and whispers to keep you company. It was where you found yourself on a lazy Sunday afternoon, wanting to catch up on some reading. 

As you scan the old shelves you pause at the sight of an old book. It wasn’t the fact it was old that drew your attention, no there were many old books in Hogwarts, it was the name of the book. ‘How To Find Your Soulmate.’

My soulmate. You’ve never cared for my soulmate. Never tried to write to him on your arm like everyone else. And he never did either. 

And even though you deny it, it’s rather lonely. Maybe that’s why you pick up the book. To fill the loneliness in your heart. 

The book opens on the first step and you read eagerly;

Start conversations with them

You scoff, no shit. You slam the book shut and place it back on the shelf. You wouldn’t even know what to say to him. 

There are limits to what you can say. You can’t say your name, where you live or anything that can reveal your identity straight away.

But as you find an empty table, planning to catch to do some homework, you grab your quill, dunking it in ink, pausing above your arm. 

A droplet of ink falls from the quill and onto your arm and you swear quietly. The ink shimmers until it’s gone. 

Not allowing yourself to think, you write a sloppy ‘sorry’ on your arm and get back to your homework. 

You block it from your mind, ready to forget about the whole situation. But as you exit the library you can’t help but glance at your arm, tensing at the sight of black ink across your arm. 

“It’s alright, Love. How are you?”

You don’t respond until you are back in the confines of your dormitory, responding with a hurried, “I’m alright. How are you?”

He responds immediately and you cross your legs on your bed eagerly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” You roll your eyes, knowing a playboy when you see one- or read one per se.

You ignore him, going downstairs into the Gryffindor common room to hang out with your friends. 

Your eyes roll once again when you hear James Potter’s loud voice at the top of the stairs, his voice getting louder as you make your way down the stairs. 

“-Hasn’t responded,” James says, his voice laced with defeat. You ignore him, smiling when you find Lily painting her nails in the corner. 

You place your hands down on the table, smiling sheepishly and she rolls her eyes before starting to paint your nails.

“I did something,” You mutter shyly and she raises her eyebrow in question. “I talked to my soulmate.” 

She grins brightly before falling slightly, “James did too. He's talking about it really loudly.”

You tense, shrugging your shoulders, “So? It’s not like we’re going to be soulmates. I hate him.”

She relaxes slightly, going back to painting your nails a pretty pink, “Yeah. You can’t be soulmates with someone you hate. What did you say anyway?”

You nod in agreement, recalling the things you said just moments ago.

You converse until she’s finished your nails and then you both make your way downstairs for dinner. 

Not looking where you’re going, you bang into a hard chest, looking up, you scowl at the man in front of you.

“Sorry, Love.” James grins, letting go of your waist. You tense. Love? It’s just a coincidence. Heaps of people call someone Love.

You nod your head silently and walk around him, your stomach rumbling with hunger.

—-

“Are you still ignoring me?”

You roll your eyes at the message on your arm. It’s been three days since you first talked to him, three days since you started ignoring him.

Lily notices the message on my arm, wiggling her eyebrows playfully before leaning into whisper, “Respond. He can’t be that bad.”

You shake your head in disagreement but go to respond anyway. 

“Yes.”

His response was immediate, “What did I do?”Your cheeks are flushed as you respond. He didn’t even do anything, “Nothing.”

“That’s very helpful, thank you.” You roll my eyes as more words appear on your arm, “Why is Professor McGonagall so creepy?” 

You laugh quietly in agreement, sneaking a look at the front from where she’s watching Sirius and James like a hawk. 

You freeze. It’s just a coincidence. 

“She’s not that bad.”

“She probably likes you.”

You laugh quietly, “You probably mess around too much.”

“You got me there, I do like a good prank.” You freeze again, everything pointing to James Potter. As subtle as you can, you peek over at where he’s sitting, hunched over his desk, quill in his hand. He’s probably just taking notes.

It’s not like you hate James, it's just he’s loud, and arrogant. But he’s cute, you’ll give him that.

You scan the room, noting many other people with quills in their hand. It could be anyone.

“Do you play quidditch?”

You watch James tense, looking around before slouching again.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m the seeker.”

You tense. He can’t be my soulmate. 

You pull up your sleeve immediately, not wanting anything to do with him.

Maybe you're being too harsh. You’ve only talked to him once and that was when you walked into him. But you’ve heard things about him. How he always pranks people, how his ego is as big as Hogwarts himself. 

You sigh, pulling your sleeve up again, “Gryffindor seeker?”

His handwriting comes out shaky, “Yes.”

Fuck. What do you say? Should you meet him?

You jump when everyone starts packing up. You follow suit, ignoring the way James’s eyes are roaming around the room. 

You ignore his gaze as you make your way out of the classroom. It’s only when you’re in potions class that you look at your arms again. “Do you want to meet?”

You decide to answer truthfully, “I’ve heard things about you. I’m not sure I like you.” Was that rude?

“Maybe you should meet me before assuming things about me.”

“Astronomy tower. 10pm”

“See you then, Love.”

You don’t look at your arm for the rest of the day. Only when you're sneaking through Hogwarts and making your way to the tower do you let yourself be nervous.

I’m about to meet my soulmate, you think, James Potter is my soulmate. 

You pause at the sight of James pacing the tower, hands wringing together. You don’t let yourself think, walking through the door and making yourself known. 

His head whips around, eyes widening at the sight of you standing there. 

“You.” He whispers, eyes roaming your face.

“Me,” You whisper back, letting your eyes trace his face. He really is beautiful.

“I sure hit the jackpot,” He says playfully and you smile, cheeks flushed, “What bad things have you heard about me?” He asks, slowly stalking closer. 

“Things,” You mutter, running your fingers across the balcony edge, “Like your ego is huge and you’re a dick.”

His eyebrows raise, “My ego is huge but I wouldn’t call myself a dick.” He stalks even closer, your bodies almost touching. 

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” You state and he nods his head in agreement. 

“How about a date? On Saturday near the lake.” You pretend to think for a moment, though your mind is already made up.

“You have one chance, Potter. One chance to prove yourself to me.”

His eyes narrow playfully, head moving closer, “What about you, L/N? I’ve heard things about you too.” 

You laugh, “Like what?”

He smiles, “Like you read too much.”

You scoff, “Forgive me for my sins.”

“I will on our date.”

Your eyes narrow, his forehead touching yours, “Deal.”

[svt-luna]

ᡴꪫ ⋆ GAME CATERERS X SVT ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 3-2.

Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 3-2! We are finally at the last game of the series! Basketball with a twist that ultimately decides if they can go home or not…

oh my goodness!!! we have finally reached the final episode of the game caterers series!!! i just want to quickly thank you lovely humans for patiently waiting for every episode which took so many weeks btw!! i am super grateful that you guys are continuously waiting and supporting me to this day! i am really happy and proud that we have finally finished the first series in my blog. the stan twitter reactions for episode three will officially be the last post for game caterers… and after that… we are officially off to Italy!!!

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ game caterers masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ᡣ𐭩

bold dialogues are spoken in english ᡣ𐭩

The cameras shifted position, now angled toward the opposite side of the open field, directing their gaze toward the basketball court. The crew had set up there, capturing the vibrant, warm-toned scene as the SEVENTEEN members began to trickle down from the green room.

[This is the most calm video of all SEVENTEEN's videosin the last 9 years]

Each one wore a bright red basketball jersey with their number in the official order, emblazoned across the back in bold black and white. As they headed toward the basketball court, a mix of chatter and laughter accompanied them.

Hoshi stretched his arms overhead, a determined look on his face. “I’m not good at basketball. I’ll just go with guts,” he declared, eyes fixed on the court as if sheer willpower would guide him through.

Dokyeom grinned, walking beside him with casual confidence. “Hoshi, sports is all about guts,” he replied, giving Hoshi an encouraging pat on the back. As they neared the edge of the court, he added, “Sports bring you closer by making you run into each other.”

“Yes, like ‘Slam Dunk’,” Dokyeom continued, nodding with a theatrical expression of seriousness.

“I’ll be like Hanamichi Sakuragi,” Hoshi told them.

Jeonghan, hands tucked lazily in his pockets as he walked, glanced over at Hoshi, amused. “Okay. Come on, Hanamichi,” he indulged, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Who else is there aside from Hanamichi Sakuragi? I want to join,” Dokyeom said as they finally stepped onto the court.

Wonwoo, who had been listening to their animated conversation, looked over at him thoughtfully. “Do you want to play Takenori Akagi?” he suggested, his voice low but playful.

Dokyeom nodded immediately, adopting an exaggeratedly serious face. “Okay!”

Around them, members continued filtering onto the court, their laughter filling the air as they warmed up, but Luna and Seungkwan were noticeably absent. Hoshi, energized by the anticipation, suddenly darted across the court and stopped at the free-throw line. He raised his right hand high and imitated a shot, exclaiming with conviction, “The left hand only assists the right!”

Vernon raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he watched Hoshi’s exaggerated form. “What was that?” he asked, a smirk spreading across his face.

S.Coups shook his head with a chuckle, mimicking Hoshi’s earlier movement with his hands. “The left hand only assisted,” he laughed, rolling his eyes as he did so.

The members began lining up one by one, each taking turns shooting the basketball as they waited for everyone to arrive. Mingyu, holding the ball for his shot, grinned. “Nice. One ball is enough to have fun,” he remarked, dribbling a few times before taking his shot.

[Everyone is here except for Seungkwan and Luna]

A few minutes passed, and still no sign of Luna and Seungkwan. Hoshi, now restless with excitement, glanced toward the direction of the green room and called out, his voice carrying across the field. “Seungkwan-ah! Jiyeonie! Hurry up! We’re waiting for you!”

His shout was met with laughter from the members, some shaking their heads in amusement. And then, just over the hill, Luna and Seungkwan appeared, Seungkwan dragging a laughing Luna along by the arm with a dramatic look of exasperation on his face.

[He looks tired already]

As they drew closer, Seungkwan called out, “Noona was taking forever to decide if she wanted her hair down or up,” his tone playful yet mockingly exhausted.

Luna struggled in his hold, laughing as she tried to keep up with his pace. Her hair was down, loose waves framing her face. She wore her red SEVENTEEN basketball jersey in her own unique style— one side tucked up, giving it a cropped look that revealed a hint of her side, paired with a relaxed, white pair of parachute pants that moved with every step.

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, finally reaching the group with an apologetic smile. “It was a genuine problem.”

The members laughed, watching her with fond smiles, each accustomed to her usual dilemmas when it came to fashion and styling choices. For them, it was all part of her charm.

Mingyu walked over to the bleachers, a thoughtful look on his face as he sat down. After a moment, he lifted his hand, gesturing to the group. “Let’s get a group picture,” he announced, his voice carrying with a hint of excitement. “Everyone, this way, please.”

One by one, the members slowly made their way toward the bleachers. Some moved with ease, hands tucked into pockets or slung over shoulders, while others laughed and nudged each other as they picked their spots. They settled in three rows, their jerseys bright red against the muted, natural tones of the field around them.

As he took his seat, Dokyeom’s gaze landed on a small stuffed bunny positioned beside Mingyu. The plush toy sported a tiny SEVENTEEN jersey and even had a pair of glasses perched on its nose. His eyes lit up with recognition.

“Oh, I know this one,” Dokyeom exclaimed, pointing at the bunny. “I drew it,” he added with a proud smile, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he settled into his spot, admiring his earlier prize from the ‘Super’ Store game segment earlier.

[DK's favorite doll, Torong]

Luna took her place in the middle row, wedging herself between Hoshi and Seungkwan, who made exaggerated gestures to make room for her with playful smiles. She leaned back, catching her breath, then adjusted her jersey, her hair falling around her shoulders.

As they all settled, each member struck a different pose. Some threw peace signs, others leaned forward or back with playful grins, and a few simply folded their arms, attempting a serious look for the picture.

[The photo theme: basketball players]

After a few clicks, Mingyu raised his thumb, directing them all with a smile. “Right thumbs up,” he told them, and the team lifted their right thumbs in unison, matching smiles spreading across their faces as they held the pose.

After the group photo, they made their way down from the bleachers, gathering at the center of the field where the camera crew and production team had set up once again. PD Na, seated comfortably up front with the other writers, smiled as the group assembled in front of him.

“This is the last part,” PD Na started, his tone both serious and playful. “You’re going to play basketball.”

Minghao stood to the side, clutching a small whistle, his expression more reserved. PD Na continued, explaining with a glance in his direction, “Since The8 has a shoulder problem, he’ll be the referee. Luna’s fingers are also injured, so she’ll be the cheerleader.”

Minghao brought the whistle to his lips, letting out a light, somewhat hesitant blow, which was barely audible, earning quiet chuckles from the group. Luna nodded, visibly content with her role on the sidelines, her fingers carefully resting in front of her.

“It’ll be six on six,” PD Na added as he glanced at the group, while Minghao gave another soft whistle.

[Even with two missing, they can still play 6 on 6]

“You’re pretty good,” PD Na complimented, causing Minghao to break into a shy smile.

As the whistle’s sound faded, PD Na resumed, moving on to the team selection. “The two best players will come forward and choose five people each with rock-paper-scissors,” he said, eyes scanning the group as he waited.

[Team selection rules]

With a slight nod, S.Coups stepped forward, a hint of a grin on his face. “Seungkwan and I will do it,” he declared, glancing back with confidence.

Dokyeom, however, was already making his way forward with a mock swagger, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, feigning a look of cockiness. PD Na couldn’t contain his laughter at the sight. “DK is coming forward,” he laughed, watching as S.Coups gently nudged Dokyeom back, causing laughter to ripple through the group.

[Takenori Akagi is out]

Meanwhile, Mingyu tilted his head, glancing over at PD Na with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “Are we playing real basketball?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly. “I thought we had to use a scoop to score or something.”

“No, you’re playing real basketball,” PD Na confirmed.

Almost everyone chorused, “Really?” their expressions were a mix of amusement and skepticism, finding it hard to believe that the game wouldn’t come with some sort of twist.

Luna, observing their reactions with a laugh, shook her head. “The catch will come soon, watch.”

Seungkwan chuckled, enthusiasm radiating from him. “I played basketball at Jamwon Han River Park yesterday too.”

Dokyeom chimed in, nodding toward PD Na, “We love basketball.”

[That's why we prepared this game]

[Team selection]

[S.Coups versus Seungkwan]

With that, the rock-paper-scissors showdown began. After a quick match, S.Coups won the first round and wasted no time in selecting his team. “Mingyu,” he called out, gesturing confidently toward him.

“No,” Mingyu replied playfully, though a grin spread across his face.

Jeonghan chuckled, watching the selection with a spark of mischief. “Right. You need someone big,” he commented, earning a laugh from the group.

With the next pick, Seungkwan’s voice rang out with a clear choice. “I choose Jeonghan,” he announced.

[2 ace players team up]

Another round of rock-paper-scissors followed, ending with S.Coups victorious once again. “Joshua,” he called.

Seungkwan countered, glancing around as he chose Vernon with a smile. “I’ll go with Vernon. He’s a zombie defender.”

The two continued their picks, with each choice narrowing down the players until two teams were fully assembled. Finally, the teams stood divided: Team White with S.Coups, Mingyu, Joshua, Dokyeom, Jun, and Dino, while Team Red consisted of Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Vernon, and Woozi.

[Team White versus Team Red]

With the teams established, the members of Team White moved to change, swapping out their red jerseys for fresh white ones bearing the SEVENTEEN logo, their excitement palpable as they readied for the game ahead.

Once Team White finished changing into their fresh jerseys, they gathered at the center of the field alongside Team Red, eyes turned expectantly toward PD Na. He glanced around to make sure everyone was listening.

“The rule is simple,” he began. “It’s three on three. But each of you must play at least once.” The members nodded, some of them voicing their understanding with murmurs of agreement.

“Another important rule.” But as PD Na took a brief pause, Luna chuckled knowingly, anticipation lighting up her face. “There it is.”

PD Na continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’ll be Hunminjeongeum basketball.”

The group immediately erupted in groans, knowing exactly what that meant. This wasn’t going to be a normal basketball game.

PD Na raised a hand to explain further. “The moment the players or the audience speak a foreign language, the score resets.”

“Does it really reset?” Dokyeom asked, eyebrows raised.

“To zero,” PD Na confirmed, a smirk playing on his lips.

Woozi crossed his arms, leaning back a bit with a shrug. “That works for me. I can’t play basketball at all.”

Mingyu looked at him, unconvinced. “You know how to pass and shoot.”

Woozi tilted his head, conceding slightly. “I know that much.”

“That’s all English,” Mingyu pointed out.

“You can’t say shoot,” Jun added, glancing pointedly at Woozi.

Hoshi jumped in, breaking out in English with a playful confidence, “Hey. Okay.” He threw himself into an exaggerated re-enactment, pretending he was mid-game, showing the others exactly what they couldn’t do.

Seungkwan turned to PD Na with a thoughtful expression. “Are the names okay?”

PD Na shook his head. “No, not even the names.”

Everyone looked around in surprise, murmurs, and exclamations breaking out all at once, caught off guard by the strictness of the rule.

Luna deadpanned, a serious look crossing her face. “I don’t think we will be going home today.”

Joshua raised a hand, smiling as he posed a question. “What about foreigners?”

PD Na nodded in Luna’s direction as she answered on his behalf, “Everyone will use their Korean names.”

Vernon raised his hand, a slight smile on his face. “Hansol,” he said, pointing at himself.

Jun’s brow furrowed as he looked at PD Na, hesitant. “Does Jun count as English?”

PD Na shrugged. “This is not an official game. So all rules are up to the referee.”

[What the referee says is the law]

Minghao, the appointed referee, tilted his head innocently, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “What if the referee doesn’t know the rules?” he asked, his voice laced with mock innocence.

Everyone burst out laughing, PD Na included. Mingyu echoed the question with a laugh, “What if he doesn’t?”

Luna grinned, reaching over to give Minghao’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. “I’ll help you, Hao,” she said affectionately, finding his comment both adorable and endearing.

[Anyway, it's all up to the referee]

With a smirk, PD Na gave the final directive, “The first team to get twenty-one wins.”

Luna didn’t miss a beat, deadpanning once more as she leaned against Minghao’s side, her face scrunched up in doubt. “I don’t think we’ll reach the tens,” she remarked, earning another round of laughter from the group.

[She has no faith in them whatsoever]

Mingyu, always one to tease, pinched her side playfully, making her jerk back slightly. She shot him a look, sticking her tongue out at him with a grin.

“It’ll be zero the whole time,” Jeonghan added, sharing in Luna’s skepticism.

As the laughs subsided, the players steeled themselves, ready for a game that would clearly be anything but typical.

[Hunminjeongeum basketball begins]

The teams began to disperse, each group huddling together, strategizing with enthusiasm and an eagerness that hinted at their competitive sides. Some members bounced the basketball, others shuffled around, loosening up.

Meanwhile, Luna, lighthearted as ever, skipped over to the sidelines, hand in hand with Minghao, her fingers interlaced with his. “Let’s go, Hao,” she said, her voice full of playful energy as they made their way toward the bleachers to watch from the sidelines.

Jeonghan looked at his team, calm but focused. “Let’s go with Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Vernon,” he instructed, his tone low and clear, suggesting his confidence in their abilities as he glanced between the three members. They nodded in agreement, quickly organizing themselves as the first lineup.

Across from them, Team White finalized their lineup with Mingyu, Joshua, and Dokyeom stepping forward, the three of them preparing with a blend of focus and excitement.

[Big people against big people]

The rest of the members settled themselves on the bleachers, eagerly watching the setup unfold. Minghao stood at the right side of the bleachers, while Luna positioned herself on the left, her stance casual as she waited for the game to begin.

Seated comfortably on the bleachers, Jeonghan reached over, his hand brushing against Luna’s arm with a gentle, almost absentminded touch, inviting her closer. She shifted toward him naturally, her attention still on the game ahead as they stood side by side, shoulders nearly touching. With a slight smirk, Jeonghan called out to the players, “Hoshi, just run to the place with no people.”

Hoshi took off immediately, following the advice, darting toward an empty spot on the court.

[Since Hoshi doesn't know anyway, he just warms up]

Jeonghan nodded his head with approval. “Good,” he murmured quietly, turning back to Luna as he traced gentle circles into her hand, which rested in his.

Just then, a staff member walked over, slowly handing Luna a set of red and white pom-poms. Luna chuckled, her gaze drifting from the vibrant pom-poms to the staff member, amusement evident in her smile. “Is this really necessary?” she asked with a soft laugh, her eyes bright as she accepted the pom-poms with one hand, keeping her other firmly intertwined with Jeonghan’s.

[She’s a cheerleader for today]

From his spot on the bleachers, Wonwoo leaned over, raising an eyebrow at her. “What team are you cheering for?”

Luna shook the pom-poms lightly, fluffing them up with a playful shrug. “Both…” she replied, her voice lilting with humor. She gave the pom-poms a final shake before adding in a softer tone, “Whoever wins,” her casual remark drawing laughs from the group.

Jeonghan looked at her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he pointed out, “You’re wearing red.”

Luna tilted her head at him, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. “Then win,” she shot back, punctuating her challenge with a wink.

Jeonghan’s grin widened as he looked back at Luna, her wink and confident challenge igniting a spark in his eyes. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that only she could hear. “Alright,” he murmured, his tone soft but filled with determination. His gaze lingered on her, holding her attention for a beat longer, the hint of a competitive glint in his eyes promising he’d give it everything he had.

Minghao stepped forward, his voice clear as he took up his role as referee. “To your positions,” he instructed, gesturing for the players to take their places on the court.

The first three players from each team responded immediately: Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Vernon for Team Red moved to one side of the court, while Mingyu, Joshua, and Dokyeom from Team White positioned themselves on the opposite side. The rest of the members, anticipating the match, gathered on the bleachers, eager to watch the action unfold.

Luna, with a mischievous smile, shook her pom-poms and called out from her spot near the bleachers. “Fighting! I believe in you guys!” Her voice rang cheerfully, bringing a wave of encouragement to both teams.

Seungkwan quickly looked to Vernon, determined to start the game strong. “Hansol, mark Mingyu,” he instructed, emphasizing their focus on strategy and using Vernon’s Korean name to avoid slipping up on the language rule.

Mingyu, sensing Seungkwan’s readiness, chuckled and reassured him with a laid-back attitude. “It’s okay. It’s only 0:0,” he pointed out, nodding towards Seungkwan, already in the spirit of the game and noting the smooth switch to Korean names.

Meanwhile, Dokyeom made his own preparations, eyeing his opponents carefully. “I’ll mark Soonyoung,” he offered, squaring his shoulders.

Hoshi nodded in agreement, glancing back at Dokyeom with a grin. “Okay, Seokmin,” he replied, “I can’t call you DK, can I?” Already aware of the no-English rule, Hoshi’s playful tone underscored the competitive but lighthearted nature of the match.

[DK is okay, but okay is not okay]

From the sidelines, Jeonghan, lounging casually on the bleachers, gave his team a confident signal. “Good. Let’s go. Start.” He declared with a nod, giving them the final encouragement to get going.

[The game begins]

Mingyu took advantage of the moment to remind them of a slight technical loophole, a last-minute suggestion as they shifted into action. “We can speak English until we score,” he pointed out, just loud enough for his teammates. Then, in English, he added, “Can you pass me the ball?” gesturing to Seungkwan, who dribbled carefully, eyes darting for openings as his teammates positioned themselves strategically.

Observing Seungkwan’s movement, S.Coups leaned forward, offering insight from the bleachers. “Hoshi’s turning around,” he called, as Hoshi quickly moved across the court, marking his territory on the other side.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Seungkwan passed the ball to Vernon, who, without missing a beat, caught it smoothly. In a swift, calculated motion, he scanned the court, recognizing Hoshi’s position on the other side, and passed the ball across the court to him. Hoshi received it and seemed poised to shoot, but Dokyeom’s defense was tight. Realizing he had no clear shot, Hoshi pivoted, aiming a precise pass back to Seungkwan instead.

“Seungkwan, come up. Lay up,” Dino’s voice rang out from the sidelines, encouragement evident in his tone. Seungkwan, fueled by the support, moved swiftly toward the basket. He took the shot— a smooth layup— but luck wasn’t on his side, and the ball bounced off the rim.

Joshua, acting on reflex, caught the rebound. He dribbled once, trying to line up for a quick shot. He aimed, but the ball clanged against the rim, missing again.

“Leave the box,” Mingyu’s voice cut through, directing Joshua to back out of the key. Joshua stepped out, positioning himself outside the paint, scanning for a potential three-point shot.

[Joshua got a chance for a 3-pointer]

“He has to leave, right?” Minghao asked, looking toward PD Na for confirmation.

PD Na nodded, confirming, “You need to leave the box.”

Once Joshua was in position, he took a deep breath, braced himself, and launched a three-point attempt. The ball arced toward the basket, everyone holding their breath as it hit the top of the backboard and bounced out of bounds.

[Bounce]

A chorus of groans rose from the bleachers. Woozi’s voice was the first to break through the disappointment. “It’s out,” he called, arms crossed as he leaned back, his face showing a hint of frustration.

Jeonghan shook his head from the sidelines, letting out an amused sigh. “That was a ridiculous shot,” he observed dryly, adding a bit of levity to the moment.

Luna, catching the mood, shook her pom-poms with exaggerated enthusiasm, calling out with a bright tone. “It’s okay! Fighting!” she encouraged with a mock cheerful voice, causing PD Na to laugh and point at her from his spot, clearly entertained by her dramatic cheer.

Mingyu, still focused, checked the scoreboard and shook his head. “It’s still 0:0. No one’s going to score,” he said, hands on his hips, as he looked back at his team with a determined expression.

With that, Seungkwan took control again, dribbling the ball with focused energy as he scanned for an opening. Hoshi, ever the energetic tiger, darted around the court, narrating his moves in a loud, confident voice. “The counterattack of the tiger!” he announced as he circled around, trying to break through Mingyu and Dokyeom’s defense.

[While the tiger jumps around, Seungkwan got a chance]

Seungkwan seized the opportunity and took a sharp shot. The ball flew through the air, finally making its way into the basket.

[He scores easily]

The bleachers erupted in cheers, Luna jumping up and down with enthusiasm as she shook her pom-poms vigorously. “That’s two points,” PD Na announced, finally marking a breakthrough.

“No English from now on,” Mingyu reminded his teammates firmly.

“Good,” Hoshi replied, his tone brimming with excitement as he jogged back.

“He scored,” Wonwoo confirmed, flipping the scoreboard numbers with a grin.

Woozi, ever the strategist, leaned into the red team with a serious expression. “We need to focus from now on,” he instructed, drawing nods of agreement from his teammates.

“Be careful,” Jeonghan added, his voice a steady reminder from the sidelines, signaling the players to stay sharp and avoid mistakes that might reset their hard-earned score.

Seungkwan, breathing heavily but with a triumphant smile, slapped hands with Hoshi and Vernon in a quick team celebration. “Hansol, Hoshi, Seungkwan. Good job,” he told himself and his teammates with a quiet, self-assured nod.

With the briefest pause, Mingyu then gestured toward the Red Team, keeping the game momentum going. “Excuse me. Please start. Please,” he said with an authoritative tone, his words conveying both a tease and a hint of challenge.

Joshua, still in the zone and with his team scoreless, seized the chance to keep things light but competitive, smirking, he added, “Let’s go. Hurry up,” hoping to tease Red Team into losing their focus.

Dino, seated on the bleachers, grinned at his team’s freedom with language for the moment. “Okay, we haven’t scored yet. Good,” he observed aloud, almost in approval of their strategic advantage.

The ball returned to play, this time firmly in Vernon’s hands. He glanced around, calculating the pass, and with a practiced flick, he sent it toward Hoshi. But Hoshi, his focus wavering for a split second, almost missed. He chased after the ball, eyes locked as it bounced closer to the sidelines, only to lose it as it rolled out of bounds toward the production team.

[The tiger finally got the ball for the first time]

“It’s okay,” Seungkwan called out, the reassurance in his tone bringing Hoshi’s frustration down a notch.

With a quick movement, Dokyeom scooped the ball up and lobbed it toward Mingyu, who took position, lining up his shot. He stepped back, squared his shoulders, and, with a measured push, sent the ball arcing toward the basket. It swished cleanly through the net, catching the White Team up to tie the score.

[Team White catches up]

As his teammates celebrated, Mingyu clasped his hand over his mouth, a half-smile creeping in. He raised a finger to his lips, his eyes flicking meaningfully between each teammate as a shushing motion— no more English, no more slip-ups that could jeopardize their points now that they were finally even.

From her spot on the sidelines, Luna couldn’t contain her excitement. She jumped up, pom-poms flying in a flurry of color, and shouted, “Wow! Kim Mingyu!” The admiration in her voice was unmistakable, her cheer earnest as she praised anyone who made a good shot.

Even PD Na joined in, nodding toward Mingyu. “He’s really tall,” he commented, unable to resist noting Mingyu’s natural advantage on the court.

On the bleachers, S.Coups folded his arms, his expression one of measured caution. “You need to be careful from now on,” he warned, his voice carrying across the court like a coach reminding his players of the stakes.

Joshua now had possession, dribbling steadily as he sought an opening. His eyes locked onto Mingyu, who signaled his readiness. Joshua aimed a pass in his direction, but Vernon, quick as ever, sprang forward, intercepting with a well-timed block. The ball ricocheted off his fingers, only for Joshua to recover possession. Pivoting, he squared his shoulders and released a shot— only for it to bounce off the rim, missing the net by inches.

The ball bounced into Dokyeom’s hands, who immediately took advantage of the rebound. He dribbled twice, calculating his next move, before aiming a pass toward Mingyu. But just as he threw it, Seungkwan lunged forward, intercepting the ball with a skillful grab. He dribbled fast, Joshua at his heels, trying to steal it back with quick, agile movements.

From the bleachers, Jeonghan straightened, calling out to him with a calm yet firm tone. “Seungkwan.”

S.Coups followed up, “Joshua, get closer,” his voice steady and strategic, urging Joshua to close the gap.

Hoshi darted in behind Seungkwan, matching his speed and murmuring quietly, “Kwan, I’m right behind you,” a note of encouragement evident in his voice, urging him to pass.

Seungkwan glanced back at Hoshi, who seemed ready to take over. But before he could make a move, Joshua shifted closer, cutting off his line of sight. Seungkwan gritted his teeth, waiting for the right moment, finally breaking free from Joshua’s block. In one smooth motion, he passed the ball to Vernon, who, without hesitation, relayed it to Hoshi with a precise, angled pass.

Hoshi caught the ball, his gaze settling on the basket. He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a grin creeping in. “Do you think I can do it?” he asked, his voice carrying a trace of playful challenge as he adjusted his grip.

Luna, from the sidelines, raised her pom-poms, her voice clear and full of encouragement. “Oppa, you can do it!”

Seungkwan, positioning himself in front of Mingyu to prevent interference, called out, “Give it a shot. Trust yourself.”

“Soonyoung, Shoot!” Jeonghan’s voice rang out in English, the unintentional slip causing his eyes to widen as he caught his own mistake. He clamped a hand his mouth shut, freezing as he realized the consequences.

Luna, her reflexes quick, spun to face him. Her body blocked the camera’s view as she chuckled at his blunder, a hand over her own mouth to stifle her laughter. “Ya!” She whispered under her breath, her voice playful but low, hoping no one else caught the slip.

Oblivious to Jeonghan’s mistake, Hoshi refocused, releasing his shot with a flick of his wrist. The ball sailed toward the net, only to bounce off the rim and back onto the court.

[Soonyoung failed to score]

From the bleachers, Jun’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint in them as he pointed toward Jeonghan. “Jeonghan spoke English!” he announced gleefully, his tone triumphant as he snitched.

Jeonghan turned, feigning innocence with a casual shrug. “What?” he replied, his tone smooth, as if unaware of any mishap. He glanced at Luna, his eyes searching hers with a playful look. “Did I?”

All eyes turned toward her, expecting confirmation. Her expression froze, her wide eyes betraying her surprise. Realizing the focus was now on her, she slowly turned her head away, her gaze lifting to the sky as if she’d found something fascinating in the clouds. Her lips curved into an innocent smile, trying to hide the fact that looking at Jeonghan any longer might make her burst into laughter.

[Out of sight, out of mind]

From his spot on the bleachers, S.Coups chuckled, crossing his arms and pointing at Jeonghan with amusement. “You clearly did.”

PD Na nodded, clapping his hands once. “It’s back to zero,” he announced, resetting the Red Team’s points with a definitive call.

Jun, unable to contain his satisfaction, grinned widely, pumping a fist in the air. “Gotcha,” he said excitedly, looking straight at Jeonghan, who just shrugged, leaning back on the bench with a lazy, nonchalant air, seemingly unbothered by the setback.

Luna, still shaking with silent laughter, pointed at Jun, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re next,” she muttered with a knowing smile, her tone low enough for only him to hear, fully aware that Jeonghan would surely have a playful comeback waiting for Jun soon.

Hoshi’s voice cut through the chatter as he clapped his hands, rallying the players on the court. “Okay,” he called, a spark of intensity in his tone as he encouraged them, eager to keep the game moving.

“Let’s go, guys!” Luna’s pom-poms flashed as she raised them high, her voice filled with energy.

“We need to continue broadcasting for our friends,” Jeonghan reminded the players with a smile, knowing they had an audience eager to see them give it their all, his eyes scanning his quieter teammates. He gave a pointed look to those who had fallen silent, cautious about slipping into English.

Jun met his gaze with an exaggerated nod as if to confirm his dedication. “Yes. I am,” he replied, his voice calm yet filled with mock solemnity.

On the court, Dokyeom had secured the ball, eyes keenly watching Hoshi, who positioned himself squarely in his path, arms spread to defend. Dokyeom’s gaze darted, analyzing Hoshi’s stance, his movements swift as he shifted to feint. Hoshi mirrored him, moving with agility, staying just close enough to keep Dokyeom from making an easy pass.

[Hoshi is the busiest, but he's not really doing anything]

After a quick fake to his left, Dokyeom took advantage of the narrow gap and pivoted, sending the ball soaring across to Joshua, who stood ready, anticipating the pass. Joshua’s fingers wrapped around the ball in a smooth, practiced catch.

“Let’s go!” Jeonghan cheered from the sidelines, his voice ringing out in support of Hoshi’s tight defense.

“Come on!” S.Coups added, his encouragement directed at Joshua, rooting for his attempt to break through Hoshi’s defense.

Joshua moved with intent, sizing up Hoshi, who met him head-on with a determined gaze. Hoshi shifted his stance, maintaining his stance directly in Joshua’s line. Joshua angled his body, feeling the pressure of Hoshi’s close guard, and with a final glance at his options, passed the ball smoothly back to Dokyeom, who had shifted into an open space.

With fluid movement, Dokyeom redirected the ball, passing it off to Mingyu, who now held control, watching the defenders around him.

“Mingyu, go for it!” S.Coups’s voice rang out in support, his words carrying both urgency and anticipation.

But instead of attempting the shot himself, Mingyu spotted Dokyeom near the basket and made a quick decision. With a swift pivot, he sent the ball to Dokyeom, who caught it, turned, and jumped, releasing the ball in a clean, practiced shot. The ball soared through the air and sank into the net with a satisfying swish.

[DK scores again]

A cheer erupted from the White Team, who clapped in celebration as they witnessed Dokyeom’s successful shot.

[Perfect teamwork of boys born in '97]

“Nice!” S.Coups shouted, his enthusiasm overriding his caution, as he stood up in a burst of excitement. But realization dawned immediately as his hand flew to his mouth, his eyes widening in shock at the English word that had slipped out.

[Slip of the tongue]

Luna turned to S.Coups with a chuckle, her tone teasing as she said, “The members on the bleachers are the ones messing up.” She let out a laugh, shaking her head as she looked at him.

Jeonghan’s hand shot up with the speed of a kid eager to answer in class. “Producer Na!” he called out, his finger already pointing at S.Coups as expected, wasting no time. His voice was filled with mock righteousness, almost as if he’d been waiting for the opportunity to call out someone else.

[Snitch]

“S.Coups said ‘nice.’ The score resets.” PD Na nodded in agreement, his tone final as he announced, “The score resets,” loud enough for everyone on the court to hear.

Confusion flashed across Dokyeom’s face as he turned to Mingyu. “Who said ‘nice’?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“He did.” Mingyu pointed toward S.Coups, who was already making his way to the court as the teams prepared to switch members. Team White rotated, with Dokyeom, Mingyu, and Joshua heading to the bleachers, while S.Coups, Dino, and Jun took their places on the court.

“Why did you say ‘nice’?” Dokyeom’s voice carried a hint of mock disapproval, his expression exaggeratedly serious as he questioned S.Coups.

Luna chimed in, her tone playfully scolding, though laced with amusement, “No fighting, guys. You’re both tied at zero now anyway.” She swayed the words in a sing-song tone, knowing neither of them were genuinely upset.

Jeonghan gave a firm nod, his expression one of comical agreement. “No, we must compliment,” he added, his voice feigning the utmost seriousness.

“Good job,” Wonwoo piped in from his seat, keeping the spirit of praise going with a casual nod toward his teammates.

PD Na chuckled, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion as he addressed the commentators. “The commentators are speaking too much English. We better watch them,” he said, motioning to his team. He and the two other producers and writers moved to sit behind SEVENTEEN, clearly prepared to monitor the situation more closely.

Jeonghan glanced back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why don’t we let it slide if the producers don’t notice?” he suggested, raising a brow, his voice carrying a note of sly humor.

“But we point it out. We tell them,” Mingyu replied, holding a straight face as he held Jeonghan’s gaze.

“Let’s not tell them,” Jeonghan countered, his tone casual, enough to draw laughter from Mingyu and Luna.

Luna turned to Jeonghan, her voice filled with playful accusation. “You snitched earlier. So fast, in fact,” she teased, giving him a gentle bump with her hip.

Jeonghan’s grin widened as he looked down at her, unbothered. “Ey, that was just one time,” he replied, his voice a mixture of self-assurance and playfulness.

Luna chuckled, nodding toward PD Na and the writers seated behind them. “Plus, why didn’t you think of that earlier? PD Na is right behind us.”

Mingyu turned to S.Coups, his face filled with mock disappointment. “We were playing nice and quiet. Why did you have to say ‘nice’?” His voice carried an air of exasperation, though the smile that tugged at his lips gave him away.

Dokyeom followed suit, shaking his head. “Seriously, Park Bo Gum,” he muttered, the nickname still in play from S.Coups’s earlier blunder.

S.Coups shrugged, meeting their looks with a challenging grin. “Hey, S.Coups. Do it right,” Mingyu warned him with a teasing tone, pointing in mock admonishment.

“I’ll be watching you,” S.Coups replied, his finger aimed back in defiance.

“Come on!” Seungkwan, now holding the ball, shouted, his eyes lit with determination as he cheered his team forward.

“Let’s go!” Luna and Wonwoo chorused, their voices blending as they encouraged their teammates from the sidelines.

Dino, adrenaline rushing, started to cheer for his team, “My team—” he stopped, catching himself mid-sentence as the realization hit him that he’d spoken in English.

S.Coups, still lighthearted, reassured him, “It’s okay. We’re at zero.” He eyed Dino with a grin, calming any concerns.

[No points to lose]

Mingyu, always quick to keep things entertaining, stood up with a dramatic flair. “Calm down, calm down,” he repeated in English, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he continued, “Not yet, not yet.”

“That’s okay, bro,” Dokyeom followed, his words slipping into English as he added his own brand of encouragement.

“Just do, just do,” Mingyu chimed in again, his laughter evident as he sat back down.

Luna, her laughter bubbling over, pointed at Mingyu, her voice filled with affection as she teased, “Gyu-gyu and Kyeomie are so cute.”

As the whistle blew, signaling the start of the new round, the atmosphere crackled with renewed energy. Minghao stood with an air of official authority, the whistle still dangling from his fingers as he took his place on the sidelines.

[The game resumes]

Team Red remained steady with Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Vernon, ready to secure their lead. Across from them, Team White shuffled in fresh players: Jun, S.Coups, and Dino stepped onto the court, each visibly focused intensity.

Seungkwan gripped the ball, his eyes darting between Vernon and Hoshi, who was already breaking into motion, weaving around Team White like synchronized dancers. He smirked, shaking his head in amusement at their fervor. “You don’t have to run around so much, or you’ll be tired,” he teased, loud enough for both teams to hear, drawing hearty laughter from everyone on the court and the sidelines.

After a beat, Seungkwan lobbed the ball towards Vernon, who leaped and caught it, instantly setting up for a shot. He lined up his aim and released, but the ball arced just shy of the hoop, bouncing off the rim before Dino lunged forward, catching it in both hands with impressive speed.

[Failed to score]

“Good job. I’m proud of you,” Seungkwan said with mock solemnity, pointing at Vernon. On the sidelines, Wonwoo chuckled, commenting dryly, “They had a chance.”

Dino took over possession, dribbling with agility as he searched for an opening. He maneuvered with quick, nimble steps, clearly aiming to get closer to the hoop. As he neared the basket, he attempted a layup with an air of confidence— only for the ball to slip from his hands, veering behind the backboard in a surprising misfire.

Mingyu’s gaze tracked Dino’s movement, and he muttered, “The way he dances…” His words trailed off, his appreciation lost in hesitation. Dokyeom, seated beside him, couldn’t resist intervening. “Think before you speak,” he advised, patting Mingyu on the shoulder with a wise expression.

“Okay,” Mingyu replied, resigning himself with a sheepish grin, while PD Na chuckled loudly behind them, clearly enjoying the banter.

[They're funny]

The game resumed, and Seungkwan took the ball again, launching it from across the court to Vernon, who was positioned near the hoop. “Nice attack,” Woozi observed approvingly as Vernon caught the pass, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he set up for a layup. But to everyone’s disbelief, the ball once again veered off course, sailing past the hoop and landing behind the backboard, leaving the members in a chorus of laughter and groans.

“Come on. That was a bad attack,” Jeonghan commented dryly from the sidelines.

“Not a good attack,” Woozi added, his tone flat as he shared a knowing look with Jeonghan.

On the sidelines, Luna, pom-poms in hand, stood with her hands on her waist, her expression frozen in disbelief. “Wow, that was really… what was… it was right there,” she muttered, genuinely baffled. The members quickly turned towards her, pointing and laughing at her reaction, clearly delighted by her unfiltered commentary.

[Our cheerleader is in disbelief]

PD Na, noticing Luna’s stunned expression, chimed in with a laugh. “Luna, you’re the cheerleader. You’re supposed to be cheering them on.”

Mock realization flashed across Luna’s face, and she spun around to face the players, waving her pom-poms with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Wow! Good job, Hansolie! It’s okay, that was amazing!” she declared, her voice dripping with faux sincerity, which only set off another wave of laughter. Vernon laughed, pointing at her with an exaggerated shake of his head.

“You need to relax,” Seungkwan told Vernon, who made an “okay” sign with his fingers and replied, “I’ll relax. Sorry.”

“Soonyoung, keep it up,” Jeonghan called out from the sidelines, sending an encouraging nod toward Hoshi, who grinned, looking a bit flustered. “Okay.”

“Cute,” Luna muttered under her breath as she took in Hoshi’s smile, her own lips twitching with amusement.

“Why don’t you find the man you need to mark?” Seungkwan instructed Hoshi, his tone deadpan.

“Sure,” Hoshi agreed, scanning the court cluelessly. “Who is it?”

Jeonghan chuckled from the sidelines. “Seungkwan, don’t get mad.”

Meanwhile, S.Coups took possession of the ball, expertly maneuvering it across the court before passing to Dino, who, without hesitation, took the shot. The ball swooshed cleanly through the hoop, and Team White broke into cheers.

[Dino of Team White scores]

Mingyu leaped to his feet, raising a finger to his lips as he looked around at his teammates. “Hey,” he murmured, gesturing for everyone to stay quiet.

“Hey, hey,” Dokyeom echoed, rising with him in a show of support. But just then, Luna, standing nearby, caught the English phrase, and her head snapped towards them, eyes widening before she burst into laughter, doubling over at their unintentional slip-up.

“The game has only begun,” Mingyu added, missing the irony of his words, still gesturing for silence.

PD Na’s voice cut through the laughter, amusement laced in his tone. “‘Hey’? Did you just say ‘hey’?” His teasing made the sideline erupt, the team members doubling over as the realization dawned on them.

Mingyu’s face froze in disbelief as he looked over at Dokyeom, who couldn’t contain his own laughter. PD Na held up a hand, grinning triumphantly. “DK said ‘hey.’ The score resets,” he announced, his tone definitive. Team Red’s members burst into gleeful laughter, their cheers echoing through the place as they celebrated their stroke of luck.

“Why did you have to speak English?” Dokyeom muttered to Mingyu, pretending to be frustrated, though his grin showed he was far from genuinely upset.

[He started it]

S.Coups, watching with a mixture of exasperation and humor, shook his head. “DK, you deserve it,” he called out, a mock-serious tone undercutting his smirk.

Dokyeom didn’t miss a beat, looking at S.Coups and nodding with a solemn expression. “Same, same,” he responded in English, earning another bout of laughter from the sidelines. “We do speak a lot of English,” he admitted to Mingyu as they finally sat back down, the air between them still crackling with energy.

Mingyu sighed, deadpan as ever. “But why aren’t we good at it?”

Dokyeom’s laughter caught him mid-sip from his water bottle, causing him to choke slightly as he set the bottle down, his shoulders shaking. The rest of the team, still laughing and recovering, looked on in amusement, clearly enjoying the unintentional comedy show.

As the game continued, all eyes were on S.Coups as he clutched the ball, strategizing his next move. His eyes scanned the court, and in one swift motion, he passed the ball to Jun, who moved with agile precision— only for Vernon to intercept, arms outstretched as he blocked Jun’s shot with ease.

[Vernon's nice block]

“Good job, Hansol,” Woozi encouraged, his tone calm but approving. Vernon offered a quick nod in acknowledgment, already refocusing as the ball bounced back to S.Coups. Seizing the opportunity, S.Coups passed it to Dino, who took a breath and attempted a shot toward the basket. The ball, however, bounced off the rim, narrowly missing its target.

“Dino’s bad throw,” Woozi observed dryly from the sidelines.

Jeonghan chuckled, watching Dino fumble slightly. “He’s not playing basketball. He’s just playing with the ball.”

Laughter rippled through the spectators, and Dino threw them a sheepish grin as the ball found its way back to Jun’s hands. This time, he passed it back to Dino, who saw his chance and shot with determination. The ball arced perfectly, swishing through the net.

[He is playing basketball. He scored!]

“Good!” Joshua clapped, rising from his seat alongside the cheering Team White members. “Very nice,” he repeated, as both Dokyeom and Mingyu stood, mouths shut as they silently applauded.

Luna, from the sidelines, waved her pom-poms excitedly. “Good job, Chan-ah!”

“Hey, Dino,” Wonwoo called out with a teasing smile, “are you an ace?”

Jeonghan, catching the energy in the air, turned toward the production crew, his tone suddenly serious. “You need to listen carefully now,” he warned since Team White already had a score to lose.

The game resumed with intensity, and this time, S.Coups received the ball again. Determined, he took his shot from beyond the three-point line. The ball flew through the air, heading for the basket, only to bounce off the rim.

[The ball bounced off]

“That was close, Cheollie,” Luna encouraged, her eyes tracking the ball’s rebound.

“He tried… he threw a three-pointer,” Dokyeom said, his voice hesitant as he picked his words carefully.

Mingyu, next to him, waved his hand, signaling silence, both of them wary of another reset due to a slip-up. PD Na’s laughter rumbled from behind them, amused at their cautious commentary.

[Be careful]

“We still need to broadcast it,” Dokyeom reminded him, almost as if convincing himself.

“We do,” Mingyu agreed with a nod, taking the responsibility seriously.

Jeonghan joined in, adding, “We need to keep talking.”

[Professional]

The game continued, and the ball was now with Seungkwan, who held it with an intense look. “Go inside. Get in there,” he instructed, his eyes set on Hoshi, who was running close to the hoop.

“Seungkwan, don’t take it too seriously,” Dino chuckled from nearby, sharing a grin with Hoshi.

“No, not at all,” Seungkwan replied with a smirk, just as S.Coups swooped in and stole the ball from him, dribbling it down the court with newfound energy. Seungkwan shook his head, laughing. “We’re doing great.”

On the bleachers, the other members watched the match with focused interest, and Dokyeom leaned forward, a question hovering on his lips. “Are you not broadcasting?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Jeonghan, who stood, hands in his pockets, absorbed in the game.

Jeonghan glanced over, replying calmly, “We’re worried that the audio will overlap.”

But before he could say more, Dokyeom’s finger shot up, pointing at Jeonghan, his expression caught between surprise and triumph. Jeonghan beat him to it, though, chuckling. “We’re at zero,” he said, and Dokyeom laughed in defeat.

[He got tricked big time]

As the ball moved back into play, Vernon seized his chance, attempting another shot. But as the ball ricocheted off the rim once more, Seungkwan was ready, catching it mid-bounce.

Jeonghan’s voice called out from the sidelines. “Be careful.”

“Seungkwan, I’m here,” Hoshi called out from behind, raising his hands, ready for a pass. But Seungkwan, perhaps caught up in the moment, passed it back to Vernon. Vernon took the shot once more, but luck wasn’t on his side, and the ball missed, bouncing back to Seungkwan.

“Nice attack,” Jeonghan said encouragingly, watching as Seungkwan, with a determined look, took the shot himself. The ball sailed through the air and, finally, sank into the hoop with a satisfying swish.

“Nice attack,” Jeonghan repeated, his tone appreciative as Team Red cheered, now tied with Team White at two points each.

[His practice in Jamwon Han River Parkpays off]

Luna’s voice rang out in excitement, pom-poms held high. “Let’s go, Kwanie!”

“Good job, Seungkwan,” Hoshi added with a clap on the back.

“It’s one all,” Dokyeom said, nodding with the air of a seasoned commentator.

Mingyu nudged him, correcting him with a grin, “It’s two all.”

Dokyeom blinked, a sheepish look on his face. “Two all?” he asked, checking.

“Yes,” Mingyu confirmed, his tone half-amused, half-serious.

“Thank you,” Dokyeom replied, slipping back into his “commentator” voice as the game continued, both teams locked in their friendly yet fierce competition.

[Hunminjeongeum game makes you say only the important stuff]

[It's two all]

Seungkwan dribbled the basketball with precision. His movements were sharp and calculated, weaving through the defense like a seasoned player. The opposing team scrambled to block him, but Seungkwan was relentless, his body twisting and turning as he dodged each attempt to steal the ball.

[Everyone on Team White marks Seungkwan]

“Seungkwan!” voices called from his team, but his focus was unyielding.

A chorus of cheers and shouts filled the air as Seungkwan made his way to the hoop. The gym echoed with the rhythmic chanting of his name. “Seungkwan! Seungkwan!” The members leaned forward, anticipation etched on their faces.

Luna’s pom-poms swayed furiously as she called out, “Go, Kwanie!”

Seungkwan leaped for a layup, his body extending toward the basket. The ball arced gracefully, only to graze the backboard and miss the hoop entirely. Gasps and laughs filled the room, but Seungkwan remained undeterred. He caught the rebound, landing firmly on the court as his teammates shouted encouragement.

Dodging an advancing block from Dino, Seungkwan maneuvered around the perimeter, his quick footwork leaving the defenders scrambling.

“So it’s true that he practiced in Jamwon,” PD Na remarked, leaning forward with visible interest.

“Seungkwan, Hoshi’s behind you,” Hoshi called out, positioning himself near the hoop. Without hesitation, Seungkwan passed the ball to Hoshi, who caught it mid-air. But before Hoshi could make a move, Dino appeared beside him. In a moment of camaraderie and humor, Hoshi handed the ball back to Seungkwan, their laughter ringing through the court.

[Not so confident here]

[Returning after touching it for a second]

Seungkwan, amused but focused, resumed dribbling. The ball bounced rhythmically as he faked out an opponent and swerved around another. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and took a clean shot. The ball soared through the air, its trajectory perfect. It swished through the net, the sound eliciting an eruption of cheers from the Red Team.

[And he scores]

“That was so cool, Boo Seungkwan!” Luna cheered from the sidelines, her voice rising above the noise. The Red Team gathered around Seungkwan, their excitement was palpable.

The scoreboard now read 2:4 in their favor.

“I loved how you returned it back to me,” Seungkwan said, laughing as he patted Hoshi on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Hoshi replied with a grin, pulling Seungkwan into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” Seungkwan said, squeezing him with a hug before they separated.

“Score one more, and let’s change teams,” Mingyu suggested from the sidelines, his eagerness to play again evident.

“Mingyu said ‘team,’” one of the writers announced, their voice cutting through the commotion.

A wave of disbelief swept through the court, especially among Team White. Mingyu’s face twisted in confusion. “Me? When?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Why did you do that?” Dokyeom asked, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his tone.

“I didn’t,” Mingyu insisted, still oblivious.

“Don’t you know how to speak Korean?” Jun teased, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Laughter erupted as the scoreboard reset, now reading 0:4.

Seungkwan made his way to the bleachers, his face glowing with satisfaction despite the penalty. “When do you want to switch?” he asked his team, glancing around for opinions.

“It’s up to you,” Woozi replied nonchalantly, leaning back against the bleachers.

“Do you want to switch now?” Jeonghan chimed in, his voice calm but ready.

“I’m in,” Hoshi agreed, raising his hand.

“Shall we?” Seungkwan prompted, looking to the referee.

“Okay. Switch,” Minghao said, signaling the change.

[Hoshi of Team Red is out, and Jeonghan's in]

With that, Hoshi was replaced by Jeonghan, who strolled onto the court with the ease of someone who had been watching and waiting for his moment.

Luna, standing at the sidelines, couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. She loved watching Jeonghan play sports; there was something captivating about his casual confidence and smooth movements.

“Wah! Yoon Jeonghan! Show them!” she cheered, her enthusiasm drawing his attention. Jeonghan turned to her with a lazy grin, nodding in acknowledgment before stepping up to play.

On the bench, Dokyeom and Mingyu leaned into each other, their hands shielding their mouths as they mock-whispered conspiratorially. Their fingers pointed at Luna, who immediately noticed their antics.

“What?” she asked, crossing her arms as she approached them.

“You really have favorites,” Dokyeom teased, his grin widening.

“I’m hurt,” Mingyu added, pretending to glare at her.

Luna laughed out loud, her head tilting back as she waved them off. But she played along, raising her pom-poms. “Wah! Kim Mingyu! Lee Seokmin! Show them!” she shouted enthusiastically, earning laughs from the two.

Still laughing, she returned to her post at the front, her eyes fixed on Jeonghan as the game resumed.

Luna’s voice rang out in a cheerful sing-song tone, cutting through the sound of the constant buzz of conversation. “Guys, remember: safety first, safety second,” she announced, shaking her pom-poms with exaggerated enthusiasm.

[Bunny’s safety announcement]

A chorus of loud and playful “Yes!” erupted from all the members, their responses unified and energetic. Luna grinned, clearly satisfied with their reaction.

“She only said that now that Jeonghan is playing,” Mingyu whispered to Dokyeom, loud enough to ensure Luna could hear him, his tone dripping with mock suspicion.

“You’re right,” Dokyeom agreed, nodding sagely as if Mingyu’s observation was groundbreaking.

Luna chuckled a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, not denying nor confirming their claims. She turned to them with an amused yet commanding expression and said simply, “Shut it.”

Being the oldest among the 97-line— Dokyeom, Mingyu, and Minghao— Luna naturally fell into the role of their designated mother or older sister. In response, both Dokyeom and Mingyu mock-pouted, their exaggerated expressions earning a playful roll of her eyes.

On the court, Seungkwan glanced at Jeonghan, his concern showing as he called out, “Jeonghan, don’t push yourself.”

Jeonghan gave him a reassuring nod, acknowledging the worry. Seungkwan, just as concerned as Luna, patted his own elbow— a subtle but clear reminder of Jeonghan’s past elbow injury.

Jeonghan nodded again, his movements careful as he positioned himself for the next play.

[Team Red's other ace Jeonghan appears]

The whistle blew, signaling the beginning of the next round. Dino quickly dribbled the ball past the halfway line, his eyes scanning for an opportunity. Jeonghan raised a hand, signaling for a pass. Dino hesitated for a fraction of a second, then lobbed the ball toward him with precision.

As Jeonghan caught the ball, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The casual, lazy demeanor he had carried up until now was gone. With a sudden burst of energy, he dribbled the ball with sharp, controlled movements, weaving through the opposing players with practiced ease. His feet moved with agility, the ball bouncing rhythmically as he dodged each attempted block with finesse.

Just as he reached the edge of the key, Jeonghan spotted Seungkwan open near the basket. Without breaking stride, he passed the ball with a quick flick of his wrist.

[Perfect pass from Jeonghan to Seungkwan]

“Good, Jeonghan,” Woozi called out from the sidelines, his tone neutral but encouraging. “Go, Seungkwan!”

Seungkwan caught the ball, adjusted his position, and jumped for a layup. The ball rolled off his fingers with perfect backspin, hitting the backboard and sinking smoothly into the net.

The Red Team erupted in cheers, Luna among them. She waved her pom-poms enthusiastically, her voice rising above the noise. “Nice pass,” Seungkwan said to Jeonghan as they regrouped.

Jeonghan’s response was immediate and wordless—a dramatic, exaggerated face that drew laughs from everyone.

“‘Nice,’” PD Na repeated the English word, his tone deadpan.

Seungkwan groaned, his energy draining in mock defeat as he dramatically lay down on the court, covering his face with his hands. Laughter rippled through the gym as the scoreboard reset to zero once again, much to Team White’s delight.

[The score resets]

Team White celebrated their victory loudly, Dino and S.Coups high-fiving as they jogged to the sidelines to swap out with Dokyeom and Mingyu.

“‘Nice!’” S.Coups mocked playfully as he passed by Seungkwan, mimicking his choice of words with an exaggerated tone.

“Seungkwan, very nice,” Dino chimed in, grinning.

Still sprawled out on the court, Seungkwan groaned louder.

“Still, you did well,” Hoshi added, his words genuine as he gave Seungkwan’s shoulder a supportive pat.

“What’s the point?” Minghao asked from his referee position, his tone carrying the weight of exasperation. “The score is at zero.”

Luna couldn’t help but laugh, her earlier prediction about the game’s slow pace coming true. None of the teams had even broken into double digits, and yet the energy in the field was electric.

The ball found its way back into Jeonghan’s hands, his grip firm as he turned his gaze down the court, searching for his next move. His stance was relaxed, shoulders loose, yet there was a sharpness in his eyes that hinted at his focus. With an effortless rhythm, he dribbled, bouncing the ball in steady, controlled beats, switching it smoothly between his hands. With each step, he shifted his weight, weaving the ball skillfully in a figure-eight pattern between his legs, his movements sharp, yet fluid.

[Excellent dribble]

Joshua, tasked with blocking him, moved in closer, face set in concentration. Basketball wasn’t his strength, but he did his best to match Jeonghan’s energy, his body pressing forward until they were almost chest-to-chest. The members watched as the two closed in, Joshua’s determination painted clear in his eyes. But as he moved to intercept, Joshua pushed against Jeonghan a little too forcefully. Jeonghan stumbled, losing his balance as he was pushed outside the boundary line.

“Out!” Mingyu called out immediately, his voice firm, as he pointed to the line where Jeonghan’s foot had stepped.

Jeonghan’s brows furrowed as he straightened, the ball still tucked securely under his arm. “He pushed me,” he said, his tone laced with both amusement and mild exasperation.

“Joshua, that’s a foul,” Minghao clarified the slightest hint of a grin on his face.

Joshua blinked, looking at his teammates, his confusion evident. “Really?”

Wonwoo, who was watching the interaction closely, leaned toward PD Na standing nearby. “They’re serious when it comes to sports,” he explained, a touch of humor in his tone as if to explain the playful intensity each member brought to the game.

With a deadpan expression, Hoshi called out, “Manners makes man, man,” in a low, practiced accent, earning a few chuckles.

The game restarted, and the ball found its way back to Jeonghan’s hands. This time, his gaze was sharp, brows drawn as he scanned the court with a calculating look. He dribbled again, his movements crisp and precise, weaving the ball through his legs with ease as he danced past his defenders. A quick dodge here, a sidestep there— Jeonghan moved as if he were gliding, each step purposeful and smooth, skillfully slipping past Mingyu’s and S.Coups’ attempts to intercept him.

He glanced at his teammates, his eyes flicking briefly to the left where Seungkwan was open. But then his gaze landed on Vernon, stationed far across the court, his stance ready. Jeonghan’s lips curled into a chuckle. “That far?” he murmured, his voice barely audible but laced with quiet confidence.

Luna’s voice called out from the sidelines, urging him on. “Seungkwanie is free, Han,” she said, her tone encouraging, her pom-poms raised as she bounced slightly on her toes.

“Get in there,” Hoshi’s voice joined from next to her.

And then, as Seungkwan moved forward, Hoshi shouted out an additional bit of advice, his voice rising in excitement. “Seungkwan, the left hand only assists the right!” he said, emphasizing the importance of the lay-up technique.

Seungkwan took the shot, attempting a layup, but the ball missed, bouncing off the rim. For a moment, the area was filled with the sounds of scuffling and the members hustling as they fought for control. The ball bobbled in the air before landing right in Mingyu’s hands.

“That’s right,” Hoshi commented, narrating from the sidelines, “One more time.”

Mingyu’s fingers closed around the ball, his eyes narrowing as he looked for a teammate to pass to. But before he could make a move, S.Coups called out, “Mingyu!” in an attempt to gain his attention.

Suddenly, in the scramble, the ball slipped from Mingyu’s grasp, bouncing away and leaving them both crouched low, struggling to reclaim it. Joshua dove forward, managing to get his hand on it just before anyone else, but with a misjudged throw, he sent it rolling away from them, right at Mingyu’s feet.

The ball bounced, rolling slowly across the court, leaving both teams frozen for a brief, absurd moment before they burst into laughter.

“What is happening?” Luna clapped her hands, laughing as she watched the chaotic scene unfold, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“This is no basketball,” S.Coups muttered from the bleachers, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and frustration.

Wonwoo nodded, his tone completely deadpan. “It’s pretty messy.”

[A combination of dodge ball, foot volleyball and basketball]

From somewhere in the group, Woozi’s voice cut through, his tone a mix of dry wit and resignation. “We’re not going home today, are we?”

“No,” S.Coups confirmed, shaking his head with an air of resignation.

“We can never go home like this,” Minghao announced, his tone dripping with humor and a sense of defeat as everyone broke into laughter once again.

[0:0 for 15 minutes]

Joshua grabbed the ball with a renewed determination, his stance firm as he scanned the court for an opening. With a decisive movement, he pivoted slightly and launched the ball across the court to Dokyeom, who was stationed near the basket. Dokyeom caught it effortlessly, his grip sure as he assessed his options. Without hesitation, he passed it to Mingyu, who was better positioned in the paint. The ball zipped between them, Mingyu catching it securely. However, instead of taking the shot, Mingyu passed it back to Joshua.

[Team White keeps passing]

Joshua planted his feet, bent his knees, and shot. The ball soared through the air, spinning perfectly before it swished through the net. The white team erupted in cheers.

“Hong Jisoo!” Luna’s voice rang out, her excitement palpable as she clapped from the sidelines.

“Nice!” Dokyeom yelled in English, his enthusiasm getting the better of him. The realization hit him instantly, his face falling into mock regret as he turned to Joshua. He moved toward him, wrapping him in an apologetic hug as Mingyu’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide with betrayal.

[They won a point, but it's gone]

It might have gone unnoticed by the production team, but Jeonghan wasn’t about to let it slide. He pointed at Dokyeom, his grin mischievous as he announced loudly, “‘Nice’ as soon as he scored.”

The members burst into laughter, Mingyu collapsing to his knees, unable to contain his amusement.

“Why?” S.Coups asked, his brows knitting in confusion.

“Who was it?” PD Na inquired, leaning forward in curiosity.

“Yes, it’s zero,” Mingyu admitted through chuckles, “DK said ‘nice.’”

“Why did you blame me?” Dokyeom protested, feigning innocence as he broke into their signature chorus. “Very nice,” he sang, his voice exaggerated, drawing even more laughter from the group.

[Anyway, it's back to 0:0]

The game resumed, and Joshua once again gained possession of the ball. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he threw a no-look pass to Dokyeom. Dokyeom caught it with ease, deftly dodging Jeonghan, who lunged to block him. In a fluid motion, Dokyeom passed it back to Joshua, who scanned the court before spotting Mingyu on the move. Joshua’s pass reached Mingyu in stride, who surged forward for a layup attempt.

The ball hit the backboard and bounced off the rim, sending the players into a frenzy as they jumped to grab the rebound.

[He missed, but it was a good move]

Amidst the chaos, Jeonghan snatched the ball, pulling it close as he pivoted away from his defenders. With quick, deliberate movements, he began dribbling, weaving through the opposing team with a finesse that had become second nature.

“Jeonghan, leave the box,” Hoshi called out, his tone half-serious, half-exasperated.

“They’re serious about basketball,” PD Na observed, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement.

Jeonghan ignored the commentary, his focus unwavering as he passed the ball to Seungkwan, who had managed to maneuver into an open position.

“Seungkwan! Kwan, where are you going?” Woozi’s voice carried across the court, his tone laced with both confusion and amusement.

“The thing about him is that he’s good at dodging,” Hoshi chimed in, his voice tinged with admiration as Seungkwan deftly avoided two defenders.

Seungkwan glanced at Jeonghan, who had moved closer to the basket, and passed the ball back to him.

[He dodges and passes to Jeonghan]

Jeonghan caught it, dribbling with precision as he navigated the defensive line.

“Jeonghan, shoot!” Hoshi yelled, his voice rising in urgency. Jeonghan aimed, but the ball bounced off the rim.

As it ricocheted, Seungkwan leaped mid-air, catching it before anyone else could react. With an effortless motion, he shot it back toward the hoop. This time, the ball sailed cleanly through the net.

[Seungkwan shoots again]

The members erupted in cheers, their voices mingling through the place.

“That was amazing, Boo Seungkwan!” Luna shouted, her face lit up with excitement.

“He’s a weasel,” Dokyeom remarked, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“He scored!” Hoshi exclaimed, jumping to his feet, his energy infectious. The red team was now on the board with two points.

“It’s only the beginning,” Jeonghan said carefully, his tone calm yet laced with confidence.

“It’s very nice,” Hoshi added, nodding approvingly.

“Nice score,” Woozi agreed, his voice steady as he gave two thumbs up.

“Retrieve the ball and repeat,” Wonwoo instructed, his tone practical as always.

Jeonghan, his gaze sharp, turned to Vernon. “Hansol, why don’t you switch?”

Vernon nodded in agreement, standing up to tag out with Wonwoo, who removed his jacket before stepping onto the court.

[Vernon of Team Red is out, and Wonwoo is in]

“Okay, change,” Minghao confirmed, signaling the adjustment as the players repositioned themselves for the next play.

[The man in glasses is in]

[The game resumes]

Luna clapped her hands together, a teasing glint in her eyes as she raised her voice over the noise of the court. “Keep it up, guys, so we can go home!” she called, her words playful but charged with enough encouragement to draw the players’ attention.

PD Na chuckled at her from the sidelines, adjusting on his seat as he shook his head in amusement. “You’re excited to go home,” he remarked, his tone lighthearted.

Without even a hint of denial, Luna nodded firmly. “I didn’t have that much confidence at first,” she said, her mock-serious expression drawing laughs from the members in the bleachers, “but I can feel that they’ve gotten the momentum.”

[She wants to go home the most]

Her dramatic delivery had PD Na and the writers doubling over in amusement, while the SEVENTEEN members exchanged grins.

“You can do it, guys!” Luna cheered, cupping her hands around her mouth for emphasis. “Whoever scores the most… will officially be my favorite, and I will love you forever!”

The players on the field burst into laughter, her cheeky incentive setting a competitive fire alight.

With that said, the ball was in Jeonghan’s hands. His fingers curled around the leather as he dribbled it with precision, the sound of his shoes shuffling filled their ears. His stance was focused, his gaze locked on the basket ahead. He accelerated, his movements fluid and determined, weaving between defenders as Joshua stepped forward to block him.

Jeonghan didn’t falter. Dribbling outside the three-point line, he shifted his weight, guiding the ball smoothly between his legs. Each bounce was calculated, his body moving in sync with the ball as his hair swayed with his movements.

“Jeonghan, nice move,” Woozi observed, his voice filled with quiet admiration.

“Nice move,” Hoshi echoed, leaning forward in his seat. “His hands never let go of the ball.”

Jeonghan paused, his sharp eyes scanning the court as he calculated his next move. His opponents crowded the area near the basket, leaving little room for an easy shot. Without warning, he lifted the ball in his hand slightly and threw the ball underhand from beyond the three-point line.

[He threw it lightly]

The ball arced gracefully through the air, spinning perfectly before it swished cleanly through the net.

For a moment, there was silence— then chaos erupted.

[He scores a 3-pointer]

Jeonghan’s teammates on the bleachers jumped to their feet in unison, their cheers reverberating around the court. Even the opposing team stood in stunned disbelief, their mouths slightly agape.

[Standing up]

“What?” PD Na exclaimed, standing up from his seat as he stared at the basket in shock.

“That’s three,” Vernon said simply, his tone as disbelieving as the others’.

Jeonghan remained composed, his expression cool as he dapped up Seungkwan, who was still wide-eyed with surprise.

[Mitsui Hisashi and surprised Miyagi Ryota]

Turning casually, Jeonghan’s gaze landed on Luna. She was standing frozen, her eyes widened in amazement— she was so amazed that she forgot to do her assigned job and cheer. Though she fought valiantly to suppress it, the corners of her lips quirked upward, threatening to break into a full smile.

Their eyes met, and Jeonghan’s smirk deepened. He raised three fingers, holding them up deliberately. Then, one by one, he dropped each finger, mouthing, “I. Love. You.”

Luna’s face turned a deep shade of red as the realization hit her— Jeonghan had taken her earlier incentive seriously. So seriously, in fact, that he’d shot a perfect three-pointer.

Dokyeom, ever the mischief-maker, walked towards her, his grin wicked. “Well, what else is new?” he muttered, throwing her a teasing wink. He gestured toward Jeonghan, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as he added, “He’s your favorite now, right? As if he wasn’t already.”

“Shut up.” Luna let out an embarrassed laugh, her hand flying to her face as she tried to compose herself.

“That was a wonderful shot,” Minghao chimed in, his voice calm but clearly impressed.

“That was amazing,” Wonwoo added, nodding in approval.

“It’s 0:5,” Minghao noted, his tone matter-of-fact as he glanced at the scoreboard. “You scored three minutes… what was it? You scored a three-pointer.”

Jeonghan, as always, played it off coolly, his smirk lingering as he casually walked back to his side of the court, the game continuing with a renewed energy and excitement.

Jeonghan caught the ball again, his movements were fluid and graceful as he surveyed the court. The game felt electrified, each pass, dribble, and shot loaded with a heightened sense of competition. Without wasting a second, he passed the ball to Wonwoo, the spin and speed of the ball precise as it reached his teammate’s hands.

Wonwoo steadied himself, gripping the ball tightly as he pivoted to position for a shot.

[The man in glasses throws for the first time]

Wonwoo aimed for the basket, his release was clean, the ball sailing through the air, but it hit the rim and bounced out.

“That was close,” Woozi commented, his tone measured but encouraging.

“Still, good job,” Hoshi added, patting Wonwoo on the back as the latter retrieved the ball.

“Nice try?” Wonwoo asked, his expression half-serious, half-hopeful as he glanced at his teammates for reassurance.

Luna finally snapped out of the trance she had been in since Jeonghan’s earlier performance. “It was so good,” she said with a sincere smile, her voice loud enough to reach Wonwoo.

“Better than me,” Hoshi chimed in with a laugh, earning a round of lighthearted chuckles.

As the game continued, the ball found its way into Joshua’s hands. He maneuvered it skillfully, dribbling down the court with an easy confidence. A swift pass sent it to Dokyeom, who caught it mid-stride.

“Wonwoo, defend!” Seungkwan’s voice cut through the action, sharp and commanding.

Wonwoo sprang into action, his long strides carrying him toward Dokyeom, who was readying for a pass. Seeing Wonwoo closing in, Dokyeom redirected the ball to Mingyu.

Mingyu bolted forward, his towering frame giving him an advantage as he aimed to secure the pass. But before he could reach it, Wonwoo threw himself into the fray, stretching his arms wide and blocking Mingyu from intercepting the ball.

[He's clearly better than Hoshi]

“Good job, Woo!” Luna cheered, her pom-poms shaking enthusiastically.

“You have long arms,” Hoshi observed, dramatically extending his own arms to emphasize his point.

“Team Red is playing for real,” S.Coups remarked, his tone filled with a mix of amusement and admiration as he watched the intensity ramp up on the court.

Dokyeom, undeterred, recovered the ball and sent it flying back to Mingyu. This time, Mingyu caught it cleanly, pivoted, and charged toward the hoop. With a powerful leap, he shot the ball, and it sailed smoothly into the net.

[Throwing using his height]

[Team White is playing for real too]

“Nice!” Dino cheered from the sidelines, pumping his fists into the air.

“Wah! Kim Mingyu!” Luna exclaimed, her pom-poms shaking furiously as she joined the cheers.

The scoreboard updated to 2:5.

The game resumed, with Seungkwan now in possession of the ball. He dribbled with precision, each bounces purposeful as he dodged opposing players attempting to block him. His quick footwork allowed him to slip past their defenses, and with a well-timed pass, he sent the ball to Jeonghan, who was positioned strategically near the hoop.

Mingyu, seeing the opportunity, moved swiftly to block Jeonghan. But Jeonghan, ever the strategist, anticipated the move. With a sharp pivot and a burst of speed, he dodged Mingyu, his movements fluid and controlled.

Jeonghan shifted the ball between his hands, the rapid motion disorienting his defender. With a graceful leap, he executed a layup, the ball arcing beautifully before swishing through the net. His hair swayed with the motion, catching the light as he landed effortlessly.

[Receives the ball from Seungkwan and scores]

“Jeonghan scored!” Woozi announced, his voice filled with awe.

“Good job,” Hoshi added, clapping enthusiastically.

[Jeonghan and Seungkwan are leading the team]

Luna, ready to do her job to jump in and cheer, froze when Jeonghan turned toward her. His back was to the cameras, shielding his next move from the public eye.

He raised seven fingers this time since their current score is 2:7, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. One by one, he lowered each finger, mouthing, “I. Love. You. So. Much. It. Hurts.”

Luna’s face turned crimson, her heartbeat quickening as she processed his words. A smile broke across her face, so wide she was momentarily shocked it didn’t split her cheeks.

“Yoon Jeonghan… really…” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she stuttered.

Unable to contain her giddiness, she turned away, walking briskly toward the bleachers. Reaching Hoshi, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, hiding her flushed face against his shoulder.

“Why?” Hoshi asked, laughing softly as he patted her back, his other arm wrapping around her in a comforting gesture.

Luna didn’t respond immediately, her smile growing impossibly larger as a zoo of emotions surged through her chest. She covered the small mic pinned to her top and reached for Hoshi’s mic, ensuring no one could hear her next words.

Leaning in close, she whispered, “Yoon Jeonghan is driving me fucking insane. What do I do?”

Hoshi chuckled, his hand lightly patting her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Woozi’s calm voice came from the seat next to Hoshi, his brows furrowed in mild concern.

Luna shook her head, letting out a soft laugh. “No… I think I’m going insane,” she admitted, her voice laced with a mix of exasperation and delight.

The three of them shared a quiet moment before turning their attention back to the game, where the action continued to unfold with no less intensity.

The ball was with Joshua, his movements sharp and calculated as he dribbled down the court. He sidestepped a defender, feinting a pass to Mingyu before taking a decisive leap. His form was textbook perfect as he released the ball in a clean arc. It soared through the air, kissed the rim, and fell neatly into the net, earning two points for his team.

[Followed by Joshua's score]

“Cool,” S.Coups said, his tone calm but laced with genuine admiration.

“That was cool,” Jun echoed as he stood up from his seat, clapping enthusiastically. “Jisoo, that was cool,” he repeated, emphasizing his words.

“Hong Jisoo good job!” Luna cheered from her place in the bleachers, her voice bright and encouraging.

S.Coups glanced at Dokyeom. “DK, do you want to switch?” he asked, his voice casual but expectant.

Dokyeom nodded in agreement, stepping onto the sidelines while S.Coups moved to the court.

[DK out, S.Coups in]

“All the ace players are playing,” Minghao observed from his seat, his tone thoughtful as he watched the dynamic on the court shift.

[Aces are playing in both teams]

“All the members are playing,” Hoshi added, his voice carrying a hint of pride as he surveyed the scene.

Luna, seated next to Hoshi, turned to him, her lips twitching as she suppressed a laugh.

Hoshi frowned in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to understand the source of her amusement.

A beat later, realization dawned on him. His eyes widened as he murmured, “Wow,” before covering his mouth in embarrassment.

“Did I—” He cut himself off, dropping to his knees dramatically, clearly mortified.

[Apologizing]

“It’s okay,” Luna said quickly, patting his back in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay.”

Seeing Hoshi’s guilty expression, Wonwoo and Seungkwan joined in reassuring him. “It’s okay.”

“Let’s be careful from now on,” Mingyu reminded his team, his tone firm but lighthearted as he glanced over at the court.

Minghao, who had been monitoring the scoreboard, made an announcement. “It’s changed to zero from seven,” he said, pointing to the scoreboard with an amused expression.

“It’s okay,” Luna said again, this time chuckling as she leaned over to hug Hoshi, who still looked remorseful.

Nearby, PD Na turned to the writer seated next to him. “We could reduce it to eleven points,” he suggested, his tone contemplative as they considered a change in the game’s goal.

Back on the court, the game resumed with Joshua once again taking possession of the ball. His movements were precise as he dribbled, scanning for an opening. Spotting one, he moved toward the hoop, only to be blocked mid-shot. Undeterred, he reclaimed the ball, pivoting swiftly and regaining his rhythm.

“Keep calm,” Dino said from the sidelines, his voice steady and encouraging. “Okay,” he added, almost automatically, before freezing as the realization hit him.

[In vain]

Dokyeom, seated next to him, clamped his mouth shut, side-eyeing Dino as if to say, Did you really just say that?

[He needs time alone]

PD Na, who had been standing right behind Dino, didn’t miss a beat. “Dino said ‘okay,’” he announced, his tone teasing as he pointed out the slip.

Dokyeom burst into laughter, his head tilting back as he tried and failed to contain himself. The rest of the members followed suit, their laughter echoing through the field as Dino sat frozen in place, his expression a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

Luna, now seated back in the bleachers, sighed dramatically. “I retract my previous statement… I don’t think they have found the momentum at all,” she deadpanned, her tone so dry it made the members laugh even harder despite themselves.

“Who?” Mingyu asked, looking at her in confusion.

“Dino,” Luna replied with a chuckle, pointing toward the younger member, who still hadn’t moved.

“This is never going to end. What are we going to do?” Dokyeom asked, his voice slightly high-pitched as he gestured toward the scoreboard.

PD Na stood up, making his way toward Minghao, who had been monitoring the score. “Referee, I’m sorry, but we’ll reduce it to fifteen points. Twenty-one points are too much,” he said decisively.

“Let’s go for fifteen points,” PD Na added, nodding at Minghao.

[They're more fluent in foreign languages than expected]

“We haven’t even reached two digits,” Luna pointed out, her tone light but teasing as she leaned back in her seat. Her comment earned another round of laughter from the members.

[Not even close]

“We can’t even reach ten points,” Vernon said, agreeing with her as he shook his head.

“Then let’s go with eleven,” PD Na concluded.

[Score 11 points first to win]

[The current score 0:0]

“Let’s score eleven points,” Woozi said, his voice calm but resolute as the new goal was set.

The members nodded in agreement, refocusing their energy as the game continued.

[The game resumes]

Seungkwan gripped the ball with determination, his fingers finding the familiar grooves of its surface as he bounced it against the court. Each dribble was controlled, a steady rhythm as he scanned the opposing team’s defense. His eyes darted, analyzing potential openings, before he darted left, faking out the nearest defender with a quick crossover. The ball moved seamlessly from one hand to the other, and Seungkwan surged forward.

As he neared the basket, his pace quickened, his movements fluid and deliberate. With a slight hop, he launched himself into the air for a layup. The ball left his hand in a smooth arc, aiming for the backboard—but before it could reach its mark, S.Coups’ hand shot up like a spring. The older member’s timing was impeccable; his palm met the ball mid-air with a satisfying smack, redirecting its trajectory. In one swift motion, S.Coups caught the ball, cradling it close to his chest as he landed.

[Nice defense by S.Coups]

“That was good defense,” Dokyeom called out from the bleachers, his voice cheerful as he munched on a bag of snacks.

S.Coups nodded, his lips curving into a brief smile before he pivoted on one foot, protecting the ball as he began dribbling. His movements were measured yet aggressive. Wonwoo moved in quickly, his arms outstretched as he shadowed S.Coups, his fingers flexing in anticipation.

With a sudden lunge, Wonwoo swiped at the ball, his hand grazing its surface just enough to send it rolling away. S.Coups scrambled to regain control, his sneakers skidding slightly as he chased after it. But the ball rolled just beyond his reach, crossing the boundary line and forcing a turnover.

[Out]

“Seungcheol, that was a shame,” Jun called out from his seat, his tone both teasing and encouraging.

“Praise for your tenacity,” Dino added solemnly, his comment earning a chuckle from the sidelines.

The ball was now in Jeonghan’s hands. The court seemed to hum with anticipation as the members shifted positions, their focus zeroing in on the new play.

“Here comes Jisoo and Jeonghan,” Woozi narrated from the sidelines, his voice calm but laced with intrigue.

Joshua stood between Jeonghan and the basket, his posture firm as he prepared to block his teammate’s advance. Jeonghan feinted left, his body dipping slightly as if to sprint past Joshua’s right side. The sudden movement caused Joshua to shift his weight, but Jeonghan pivoted at the last second, slipping past on the opposite side with a burst of speed.

“He breaks through,” Woozi observed, his tone rising with excitement.

Jeonghan’s steps were quick and calculated as he weaved through the remaining defenders, his dribbling precise and unrelenting. Nearing the basket, he leaped gracefully, releasing the ball with a flick of his wrist. It arced beautifully through the air before sinking cleanly into the net.

[Jeonghan scores]

The red team erupted into cheers, their voices overlapping in excitement. The scoreboard was changed with the updated tally of 0:2.

On the sidelines, Luna leaned over toward the white team’s bench, her curiosity piqued by the sound of crunching. “Kyeomie, can I have some of that please?” she asked, eyeing the snack in his hands.

[Focused on something else entirely]

Dokyeom wordlessly passed her the bag, his focus still on the court. Luna took a handful, but her attention snapped back to the game as the cheers reached a crescendo. She turned just in time to see Jeonghan’s shot go in, her mouth still full.

“Wah! Yoon Jeonghan MVP!” Luna cheered through a mouthful of biscuit, raising her snack triumphantly instead of her pom-poms. Her impromptu gesture sent the members into fits of laughter.

[She still cheers]

The game resumed the ball once again in Jeonghan’s hands. He maneuvered down the court with ease, his dribbling smooth and practiced. But as he approached the basket, the white team closed in, their arms raised in a wall of defense. Realizing his path was blocked, Jeonghan made a split-second decision, tossing the ball blindly over his shoulder.

“There are so many people,” Hoshi commented from the sidelines, his voice tinged with disbelief.

The ball arced toward Mingyu, who caught it effortlessly. Scanning the court, Mingyu spotted Joshua and aimed a sharp pass in his direction. But before the ball could reach its target, Jeonghan intercepted it mid-flight, slapping it away. The ball skidded across the floor, rolling dangerously close to the boundary line.

Joshua didn’t hesitate. He dove forward, his body hitting the ground as he scooped the ball back into play.

[Joshua saves it]

“Joshua, that was a nice touch,” Hoshi said instinctively, his words earning an immediate reaction.

Luna turned sharply, smacking Hoshi on the arm. “Ya, you…” she muttered, her voice dripping with exasperation.

Realizing his mistake, Hoshi clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with regret.

“Hoshi said ‘Joshua,’” PD Na announced, his tone teasing but firm.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on,” Hoshi said hurriedly, his voice muffled behind his hand. Turning to his teammates, he added, “I’m sorry. I won’t say anything from now on.”

[He becomes a hamster from guilt]

“Hoshi is the villain in that team,” Dokyeom said, pointing an accusatory finger at Hoshi.

“Mafia. He’s the other mafia,” Luna deadpanned, her focus back on her snack as if completely over the chaos.

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo reassured from his position on the court, though his words were ironic given the beads of sweat on his brow.

[Panting]

“I think this might go on until tomorrow,” Minghao remarked from his referee seat, his expression neutral as he leaned back.

His comment elicited laughter from PD Na, who was sitting next to him.

[He finds it funny]

“I’m very happy to watch you. You make me happy,” Minghao added, his voice so dry it bordered on comedic.

The game, chaotic yet entertaining, showed no signs of slowing down.

[Both teams switch after the score resets]

The game momentarily paused as there was switches in players.

Team White rotated Dino, Dokyeom, and S.Coups into the game, while Mingyu, Jun, and Joshua made their way to the bench. Similarly, Team Red had Seungkwan, Vernon, and Woozi, giving Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Jeonghan a chance to rest.

[Mingyu, Joshua, Jeonghan, Wonwoo out]

[Dino, DK, Woozi, Vernon in]

Jeonghan, as casual as ever, strolled over to the bench. With his characteristic cool demeanor, he sat himself between Hoshi and Luna.

Seungkwan, now on the court, turned toward the bench and quipped with a grin, “Jeonghan, you could cover Hoshi’s mouth.”

The words elicited a chorus of laughter, with Hoshi dramatically clasping his hands over his mouth as if preemptively preventing another slip.

[Covering it himself]

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at the comment, amusement flickering in his eyes. He leaned back slightly, stretching his arms behind the bench, his calm aura contrasting with the game’s chaotic energy.

As the laughter subsided, Luna reached down without a word, her fingers curling around a water bottle. She straightened and handed it to Jeonghan, her gaze flicking to his briefly.

Jeonghan accepted the bottle without hesitation, a faint smile playing on his lips. He unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, the cool water easing his exertion from the earlier plays.

“I feel so bad,” Hoshi murmured from Jeonghan’s other side, his voice tinged with genuine remorse.

Jeonghan shook his head lightly, his expression soft yet reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle as if absolving Hoshi of his guilt.

Turning his attention to PD Na, Jeonghan asked with subtle curiosity, “What’s the prize?”

Luna, now watching him with a playful smirk, interjected, “It’s the only thing keeping him going right now.”

[Motivated]

The bench chuckled at her comment. Jeonghan, unbothered, leaned forward slightly as Luna wrapped her arms around his, resting her head on his shoulder. He let her settle there, his demeanor entirely nonchalant as if her affection was the most natural thing in the world.

PD Na grinned mischievously. “Oh, I haven’t told you. There’s a huge prize. You’d want to win.”

Luna, still nestled against Jeonghan, tilted her head slightly, her attention drifting to his hands resting on his lap. She noted their slight stiffness and how they seemed paler than usual in the chilly open field. Without a word, she reached down, enveloping both of his larger hands in hers. Her small hands tried their best to cover his, her palms pressing against the cold surface of his skin.

Jeonghan glanced down at her, his gaze softening as he watched her efforts. She yawned then, her head tilting against his shoulder.

“You tired?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur.

“Mmm… sleepy,” Luna replied, yawning again as her eyes fluttered closed momentarily.

“Aigo,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice barely audible as he leaned his head down against hers. The moment was brief but tender, a silent acknowledgment of their shared closeness.

The tranquility of their moment was shattered by a sudden outburst from Mingyu, who was sitting further down the bench.

“S.h.o.t. Shoot!” Mingyu shouted toward the players on the court, his enthusiasm causing heads to turn.

From beside him, Joshua leaned towards him and corrected, “S.h.o.o.t.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked, visibly surprised, his eyes wide as he processed the correction.

Luna, unable to contain her amusement, pointed at Mingyu with a laugh. “Cute,” she said, her voice tinged with playful affection.

Mingyu’s confused but endearing expression earned a round of chuckles from the bench, lightening the mood before the game resumed.

The ball was with Woozi, who dribbled it carefully, his small but quick hands controlling the orange sphere as he scanned for an opening. He faked a pass to Vernon on his right but instead launched the ball towards Seungkwan with precision. Seungkwan caught it effortlessly, quickly pivoting as S.Coups stepped in to block.

“Now it’s getting real,” PD Na commented, his tone tinged with anticipation.

“I’m going to play seriously,” Seungkwan declared, a determined glint in his eyes as he began dribbling with renewed vigor.

From the sidelines, Wonwoo observed the intensity building. “Seungkwan looks tired,” he remarked, his sharp eye noticing the slight lag in Seungkwan’s footwork as he backed up on S.Coups.

“Seungkwan needs to keep playing,” Hoshi said, leaning forward with interest, his excitement palpable.

Seungkwan, undeterred by S.Coups’ towering frame, dribbled to the right, then swiftly crossed over to his left, the ball nearly invisible as it passed between his legs. S.Coups stepped forward to block, but Seungkwan spun around, slipping past him with remarkable agility.

With a clear lane to the hoop, Seungkwan charged forward. S.Coups lunged to recover, but Seungkwan executed a clean layup, the ball kissing the backboard before sinking into the net.

[He scores again]

Cheers erupted from Team Red, the sound claps mingling together. Even Team White couldn’t help but clap at the impressive play.

“That was so cool, Boo Seungkwan!” Luna said enthusiastically, her voice carrying from the bench as she stayed nestled beside Jeonghan.

“I approve,” Jun added, his applause sincere.

“You deserve an applause,” Minghao chimed in, nodding appreciatively.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Hoshi muttered, not wanting to mess up again.

“Good. Good job, team,” Jeonghan said nonchalantly, leaning back as if Seungkwan’s effort was exactly what he expected.

The ball was now in Vernon’s hands. He moved cautiously, dribbling down the court while keeping his eyes on his teammates. Spotting an opportunity, he attempted a jump shot from mid-range, but Dokyeom and Dino closed in swiftly, their combined height blocking the ball.

The rebound fell back into Vernon’s hands. Wasting no time, he passed it to Woozi, who looked ready to shoot.

“Go for it. Shoot,” Luna encouraged, her voice light but supportive.

Woozi hesitated for a moment before returning the ball to Vernon.

“Shoot,” Jeonghan added lazily.

Vernon looked determined but chose to pass back to Woozi, who finally took the shot. The ball arced beautifully through the air, but it bounced off the rim, missing by inches.

“I thought he scored,” Joshua said, her voice tinged with shock as everyone’s eyes followed the rebound.

Seungkwan grabbed the loose ball, dribbling quickly as he maneuvered around defenders. He tossed it up toward the hoop, aiming for another layup, but S.Coups intercepted mid-air with a perfectly timed block.

Stealing the ball, S.Coups sprinted out of the three-point line, dribbling with precision as he planned his next move.

“Just shoot,” Mingyu called from the sidelines, his voice impatient yet supportive.

S.Coups feinted a shot, drawing two defenders toward him, then passed the ball to Dokyeom, who quickly tossed it back after seeing the Red team crowd around him.

“Three-pointer. Go. Three-pointer,” Mingyu urged, standing now as he clapped.

With a confident flick of his wrist, S.Coups launched the ball from beyond the arc. The members fell silent as the ball soared, swishing cleanly through the net.

[3-pointer by S.Coups]

The members erupted in cheers, Team White celebrating their first three-pointer. The score now stood at 3-2.

“Nice,” Mingyu said, the word slipping out in English as he clapped and stood up, caught in the excitement.

Luna, still leaning against Jeonghan, tilted her head, her sharp ears catching the English slip. She chuckled but didn’t comment, her focus shifting back to the game.

“He just said it,” Wonwoo said suddenly, his calm voice cutting through the cheers as he pointed at Mingyu.

“Who said what? We said nothing,” Mingyu replied, visibly confused as he looked around.

“After I said it, he scored a goal,” Mingyu explained, his tone earnest as if he didn’t realize his mistake.

“‘Goal’?” PD Na repeated, turning toward Mingyu with a raised brow.

[Dang it]

Luna doubled over, laughter spilling from her as she threw herself onto Jeonghan’s lap. Tears streamed from her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

“He scored a ‘goal’?” PD Na repeated, his confusion evident.

“‘Gong,’” Joshua interjected, attempting to cover for Mingyu.

“I said ‘gong.’” Mingyu played along.

“In what context will you need to use the word ‘gong’ in that sentence?” Jeonghan asked, his deadpan delivery earning another burst of laughter from Luna, who clung to his arm as her shoulders shook.

“I said ‘gong,’” Mingyu insisted weakly, his face flushing as he tried to salvage the situation.

“What does it matter? You said ‘nice’ seconds before that anyway,” Luna chuckled, pointing at Mingyu as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

[She’s crying]

“She’s right. You did,” Wonwoo added, nodding toward Luna in agreement considering only the two of them noticed Mingyu’s earlier slip-up.

“Gosh,” Mingyu sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping as the laughter continued.

“Gyu-gyu is so funny,” Luna said as she stood up, her voice still shaky from laughing. “He was quick with it, too. Cheollie didn’t even get to celebrate and feel himself for his three-pointer.”

Her comment sent them into another wave of laughter, including S.Coups, who walked over and hugged her around the waist in mock exasperation.

“How long is this gonna take?” Luna sniffled dramatically, her tone playful as she turned toward Jeonghan. Gently, she pushed him toward the court. “Go over there and play, hurry,” she said, her mock urgency making everyone laugh again.

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head as he stood before making his way to switch with Woozi.

“Always watch what you say,” Minghao advised the group, his voice laced with humor.

“What do I do? Should I try to be funny for the show or…” Mingyu asked PD Na, his tone both genuine and exasperated.

[Fundamental question]

“Be careful, yet still be funny,” Jun replied, his voice full of mock wisdom.

“That’s right. That’s the answer,” PD Na added, laughing.

“You learned Korean when you were young, didn’t you? You didn’t learn English,” Jun scolded teasingly.

“Right. That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, his tone resigned.

“Or we can all shut up altogether,” Luna deadpanned as she sat back down, earning another round of laughter as PD Na pointed at her.

“Our cheerleader…” PD Na trailed off, shaking his head with a grin.

Luna pretended to suddenly remember her role, shaking her pom-poms. “Let’s go, guys! I believe in you guys, really!” she cheered, her exaggerated enthusiasm drawing more laughter as the game resumed.

[Jeonghan of Team Red goes back in]

“The game resumes,” Minghao said, his calm voice cutting through the ambient noise.

Seungkwan took control of the ball, dribbling it purposefully as he moved forward. His left hand guided the ball with precision while his eyes scanned the court, reading the defensive setup. His movements were steady, keeping the ball close to his body to avoid turnovers.

“Keep calm,” Seungkwan murmured, his tone both encouraging and firm as he directed Vernon with a sharp nod.

Vernon darted into an open spot near the right wing, ready to receive the ball. Seungkwan quickly transferred the ball with a crisp chest pass, the orange leather spinning slightly as it traveled straight into Vernon’s waiting hands.

Without hesitation, Vernon pivoted on his right foot to face the basket. He briefly considered a shot but noticed Jeonghan cutting to the top of the key. Vernon flicked the ball to Jeonghan with a clean bounce pass.

Jeonghan caught it effortlessly, his body fluid as he adjusted his stance. With a quick dribble, he squared up and took the shot. The ball arced high, spinning in perfect backspin as it descended toward the rim.

“It’s a perfect team,” Woozi commented, his voice low but filled with pride.

“My team is great,” Hoshi said quickly, his excitement bubbling over.

“My team is amazing,” Woozi added with a small smirk, eliciting a chuckle from those nearby.

The ball hit the rim and spun around in a near-perfect circle, causing everyone to hold their breaths collectively. It teetered on the edge before bouncing out, narrowly missing the basket.

Seungkwan wasted no time. He dashed to recover the ball, his speed and agility unmatched as he secured the rebound near the baseline. With the White team scrambling to reorganize, he sprinted back into the paint, weaving between defenders.

He leaped for a layup, but the ball slipped out of his hand mid-air, sailing out of bounds. Gasps filled the area, but Seungkwan remained composed, quickly turning to chase after it.

Recovering the ball just before it crossed the sideline, he pivoted sharply, planting his left foot while his right swung around. With a powerful jump, he launched the ball toward the hoop once again. This time, it swished cleanly through the net.

[Seungkwan scores]

“Seungkwan’s really good,” PD Na commented as Team Red erupted into cheers, their voices echoing across the open field.

The scoreboard updated: 0:4.

“Nice!” Luna exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm as she clapped.

“Yay!” Wonwoo said softly, raising a hand in quiet celebration.

“The game will end soon,” Woozi remarked, his tone matter-of-fact.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Hoshi muttered, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Go score, Mingyu!” Dokyeom called out, his voice filled with encouragement as he clapped his teammate on the back. The two quickly switched positions, with Dokyeom retreating to defend while Mingyu moved into an offensive role.

[Mingyu of Team White also goes in]

All eyes turned to S.Coups as he caught the inbound pass. His dribbling was steady but purposeful as he made his way across the half-court line, his eyes locked on the basket.

“Seungcheol… Cheol?” Hoshi’s voice wavered, trailing off as he gulped audibly.

“I get nervous every time I speak,” Hoshi admitted, earning a chuckle from the sideline.

[His heart is about to explode]

“It’s okay,” Luna reassured him, her voice light with amusement.

“I feel so bad for them,” Hoshi said, glancing at the White team’s frustrated expressions.

“Mingyu, break through. You’re good at it,” Dokyeom encouraged, gesturing for Mingyu to move into position.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan intercepted a pass meant for S.Coups and quickly took possession of the ball. Dribbling in place for a moment, Jeonghan assessed his options, his expression cool and unreadable.

With a sudden burst of speed, he sidestepped Mingyu’s attempted block, his movements smooth and calculated. His shoulder dipped slightly as if to feint a pass, but he held on, cutting through the defense with ease.

Reaching the free-throw line, Jeonghan rose into the air, his form impeccable as he released the ball. The gym went silent as the ball soared toward the basket, spinning perfectly. It hit the backboard and dropped through the hoop with a satisfying swish.

[Jeonghan scores]

“That’s it! Nice!” Luna cheered, leaping to her feet with her pom-poms in hand.

“A point!” Woozi announced, clapping briefly.

“Good job,” Hoshi said, nodding in approval.

“Jeonghan, that was so cool,” Dokyeom added, his tone filled with admiration.

The scoreboard updated: 0:6.

“Five more points and Team Red wins,” Minghao noted, his tone even as he gestured toward the scoreboard.

Seungkwan was back in control of the ball, dribbling confidently as he weaved through White’s defense. He faked a pass to Vernon before pulling up for a mid-range jumper. The ball arced beautifully, hitting nothing but the net.

[Team Red is on a roll]

“Nice,” Woozi said with a small smile, his quiet approval carrying weight.

“Good! We’re almost there!” Luna said, standing again to cheer, her pom-poms shaking enthusiastically.

[Almost home]

“Very nice,” Wonwoo said, raising his hand in a subtle gesture of celebration.

The scoreboard updated: 0:8.

“Three more to go,” Luna said confidently, her gaze shifting toward the court.

“They’re on a roll now,” Minghao observed, his tone calm but impressed.

Sensing the pressure, the White team huddled briefly, their expressions serious as they discussed their next play. Mingyu, ever the jokester, decided to shift the mood.

“Can you just be funny and say ‘nice’?” he called out, his voice laced with mischief as he turned toward the Red team.

Seungkwan, who was standing near the half-court line, kept his lips tightly pressed together, refusing to take the bait.

“We’re SEVENTEEN. What’s the name of your team?” Mingyu added, his playful smirk widening.

“We need to cheer up, especially in times like this,” Woozi said, his voice steady as he reminded his teammates to stay focused.

Luna chuckled softly from the sidelines, shaking her head at Mingyu’s antics.

“Let’s make it funny,” Mingyu continued, his persistence unwavering.

“Very nice,” Jeonghan said, his tone calm and deliberate as he tried to steady his team’s nerves.

“Say ‘very nice’ for once,” Mingyu quipped, trying one last time to provoke a reaction.

“Is it our ball or your ball?” he asked, his tone feigning innocence.

Seungkwan didn’t respond verbally, instead pointing to himself to indicate that it was Team Red’s ball.

[Our ball]

“Team White better watch out. Even if you do, you’re at zero,” Minghao reminded, his delivery sharp and matter-of-fact.

Seungkwan held the basketball tightly in his hands, his eyes laser-focused as he surveyed the court. Dino was positioned in front of him, his arms spread wide, his feet shifting rapidly to match Seungkwan’s every move.

Seungkwan feinted to the left, his shoulders dipping subtly as if preparing to drive past Dino. Dino, quick on his feet, mirrored the movement, his body low and centered, ready to block any advancement. But Seungkwan had anticipated this. In an instant, he spun on his pivot foot, his body twisting fluidly as he changed direction, the ball moving seamlessly from his left hand to his right.

Dino lunged, attempting to close the gap, but Seungkwan was already a step ahead. Using his body to shield the ball, Seungkwan shifted his momentum forward, his dribble tight and controlled. As Dino reached out, trying to disrupt the play, Seungkwan expertly bounced the ball behind his back, switching hands and slipping past his defender.

Seungkwan’s gaze darted across the court, spotting Vernon positioned just outside the three-point line, his hands ready. Without breaking stride, Seungkwan executed a crisp chest pass, the ball zipping through the air in a perfect arc.

Vernon caught it effortlessly, his hands absorbing the ball’s momentum. He squared his shoulders to the hoop, his knees bending slightly as he prepared to shoot. And as Vernon released the ball, his shooting form was textbook perfect. The ball spun in a flawless backspin, soaring through the air before swishing cleanly through the net.

[Vernon of Team Red scores]

“Chwe Hansol, good job!” Luna’s voice rang out, her excitement evident as she clapped enthusiastically. “The game is almost over!”

The scoreboard updated to: 0:10.

“It’s awesome,” Wonwoo said, his soft voice tinged with admiration.

“The game will end soon,” Woozi observed, his tone calm yet anticipatory.

Hoshi, unable to contain his nervous energy, stood up from his seat, covering his mouth with both hands as he watched the action unfold.

“One more point,” Luna said, her eyes darting toward Jeonghan, who was now facing Hoshi. Jeonghan, ever the composed strategist, raised a hand and made a subtle “calm down” motion, silently reminding Hoshi to stay focused and avoid any accidental slip-ups in English.

[One more and Team Red wins]

Luna approached Hoshi, her expression gentle but firm. She reached out, taking his hand in hers as if to ground him. “Hold back,” her gesture seemed to say, her silent encouragement calming his nervous fidgeting.

Back on the court, Seungkwan had regained possession of the ball. He dribbled with purpose, his eyes scanning the court. His gaze landed on Jeonghan, who had positioned himself near the basket, his stance relaxed yet poised for action.

With a swift and calculated move, Seungkwan lobbed the ball toward Jeonghan. The pass was precise, arcing gracefully through the air. Jeonghan caught it smoothly, his hands moving instinctively to secure the ball.

Without hesitation, he turned on his heel, his movements fluid and deliberate. He jumped, his body extending fully as he released the ball with perfect form. They fell silent as the ball soared toward the hoop, spinning in a controlled backspin. It hit the backboard and dropped through the net with a satisfying swish.

“It’s over!” Luna cheered, her voice rising above the noise as the scoreboard updated: 0:12.

Team Red erupted into cheers, their voices a mix of excitement and relief. “It’s over!” Seungkwan exclaimed, his grin wide as he high-fived Vernon and Jeonghan.

The team huddled together, their arms wrapping around each other as they jumped up and down in celebration, their energy infectious.

Meanwhile, Team White sighed collectively, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. Despite their loss, they clapped good-naturedly, their smiles showing they had enjoyed the game.

Luna, unable to contain her excitement, jumped up and down on the bleachers, her pom-poms shaking wildly as she cheered.

“Good job, team!” Jeonghan said, his tone calm but proud.

“It was amazing,” Hoshi added, his eyes wide as he demonstrated how he had covered his mouth in nervous anticipation. “I was like this the whole time because I felt so bad!”

“Good job. It’s okay,” Seungkwan reassured him with a pat on the back.

“Good game. We did our best,” Joshua told Mingyu, his tone warm and encouraging.

“Is it over now? No more?” Dokyeom asked, looking around with mock disbelief.

“I guess so,” Mingyu said, his lips forming a pout as he crossed his arms.

[Please drive Mingyu to Jamwon Han River Park]

From her spot on the bleachers, Luna noticed Mingyu’s exaggerated expression. Her face lit up as she skipped toward him, her steps light and playful. “Aigo, Gyu-gyu. You did a good job,” she said, her voice sweet as she threw herself into his arms.

Mingyu caught her easily, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off her feet with a grin. He spun her slightly before placing her back down gently.

“Seungkwan, your dribble,” Dokyeom said, turning to his teammate as the group began gathering near the bleachers.

“It was crazy,” Seungkwan admitted, shaking his head with a small laugh.

[They haven't played basketball together for a long time]

“Seungkwan’s good,” Jeonghan said, his tone approving.

“He is. You did great too,” Luna chimed in, her gaze shifting to Jeonghan as she smiled. Jeonghan responded by casually throwing an arm around her shoulders, his demeanor effortlessly cool.

“You’re good at laying up,” Joshua told Seungkwan, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Jeonghan and Seungkwan are good,” Minghao noted, his calm voice carrying a hint of pride.

[Satisfactory game]

“Hunminjeongeum game is fun,” Jeonghan remarked as they all settled onto the bleachers, their laughter and chatter filling the field.

[Hunminjeongeum basketball is over]

“Good job.” He started, his tone measured and approving. The members’ attention turned to him immediately, their expressions expectant. “Come forward, please.”

The instruction had them shifting in their seats, exchanging brief glances before standing up one by one. Minghao, ever the calm and observant one, softly encouraged the group as he rose. “Please come to the front,” he said, gesturing toward the center of the field.

Jun, with his signature wry humor, added as he followed Minghao’s lead, “Now we can speak English.”

The light remark drew a ripple of laughter from the group as they filed off the bleachers. “Nice game,” Mingyu said, his voice warm and genuine as he clapped lightly.

“Good game. Good game,” Joshua added, nodding appreciatively toward his teammates and opponents alike.

As they assembled at the front, facing both the cameras and PD Na, their movements were fluid, their postures reflecting the energy and camaraderie still fresh from the game.

“Well done. For Hunminjeongeum basketball, Team Red won,” PD Na announced, his voice steady but tinged with amusement.

A cheer erupted from Team Red— Seungkwan, Vernon, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Woozi —punctuated by exuberant clapping. The rest of the members, joined in the applause, their smiles a mix of pride and acknowledgment.

“Well done, everyone,” Luna chimed in, her tone bright and encouraging as she clapped along, her pom-poms now resting at her sides.

“Good game, Team Red,” Dokyeom said, his voice carrying a blend of sportsmanship and lighthearted banter.

PD Na waited for the applause to settle before adding, “I said there’s a huge prize.”

That single statement reignited the members’ energy, their expressions shifting from satisfied to intrigued anticipation.

[Time to meet the huge prize]

“Is it a huge prize? Literally?” Mingyu asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in playful skepticism as he leaned forward, his hands resting on his hips.

“It is a huge prize,” Wonwoo said, his usually understated demeanor breaking into a soft laugh as his gaze shifted toward the staff members moving at the court’s edge.

“It really is a huge prize,” Jun confirmed, his head tilting slightly as he squinted at the approaching figure.

“What is that? It’s huge,” Luna said, her laughter bubbling up as she pointed toward the object being carried in by a staff member.

“Wow,” Dino and Seungkwan echoed almost simultaneously, their tones filled with genuine amazement.

“That’s a really huge prize,” Minghao remarked, his tone flat but his eyes betraying his amusement.

[Prize: Very huge trophy]

A collective gasp rippled through the group as the staff member finally came into full view, revealing an oversized trophy made up of multiple smaller trophies intricately stacked and bolted together. The gleaming monstrosity stood nearly as tall as some of the members, its absurdity matched only by its undeniable presence.

“That’s huge,” Wonwoo repeated, his tone slightly awed as he adjusted his glasses for a better look.

Seungkwan stepped forward, a mix of pride and incredulity on his face as he reached for the trophy. He gripped it carefully, his muscles tensing as he adjusted to its awkward weight and height.

PD Na chuckled lightly at the sight before addressing the group again. “I’m sorry, but you need to place it at home… Take a picture of it and post it on social media.”

The members broke into laughter, their amusement blending seamlessly with their agreement.

“Anyone wants to take it home?” Jeonghan asked, his tone casual as he glanced around, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

After a beat of collective hesitation, they all turned toward Seungkwan, who was still holding the massive trophy.

“Let Seungkwan have it,” Mingyu declared, earning a chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement.

“We’re giving you this prize, so you can get an even bigger prize. Congratulations,” PD Na concluded, his voice carrying a mix of humor and sincerity.

“Thank you!” the members chorused, their voices overlapping as they clapped once more, their spirits high despite the exhaustion lingering from the game.

[Review]

“Before we wrap up, let’s hear some final thoughts. Anyone want to start?” His gaze naturally shifted to S.Coups, the leader, who stepped forward slightly.

“It’s a shame that it’s over,” S.Coups began, his voice carrying a note of wistfulness, “but we have ‘Youth Over Flowers’.” The mention of the upcoming show made PD Na chuckle knowingly, his amusement was contagious as a few of the members laughed softly.

“That’s the fact,” Woozi affirmed with his usual matter-of-fact tone, nodding at S.Coups as if sealing the statement with finality.

S.Coups smiled and looked at the camera. “We’ll come back later. It’s coming. Trust Producer Na and wait.”

The group nodded in unison, their agreement punctuated by light laughter. Dokyeom, always the energetic spark, took this opportunity to speak next. He raised his hand slowly, dramatically, earning curious looks from the rest.

“A round of applause to this hand that picked ‘Youth Over Flowers’,” he declared, holding his hand out like a trophy as they erupted into cheers and claps.

[DK played a big role today]

“The true winner. The true lucky guy,” Dino quipped, giving Dokyeom a hearty pat on the back as the group clapped louder.

Dokyeom, basking in the moment, grinned wide. “I had so much fun today. We’ll have fun again on ‘Youth Over Flowers’. Please look forward to it. See you next time!” He waved enthusiastically, his energy infecting the group as a few mimicked his wave.

When Dino stepped forward, his youthful energy matched Dokyeom’s but with a tinge of sincerity. “I had so much fun today—”

He was abruptly cut off by Mingyu, who couldn’t help but laugh as he gestured toward Dino’s sleeveless basketball jersey. “Aren’t you cold?”

The members echoed with laughter as Dino glanced at himself and chuckled, clearly unfazed. Meanwhile, the camera panned to the rest of the group, most of whom were wearing long-sleeved shirts under their jerseys or jackets over them.

[Dino likes sleeveless shirts]

“Lulu too,” Mingyu added, pointing toward Luna, who was also sleeveless in a red jersey.

The group’s attention shifted to her, and they broke into laughter again.

“I’m cold even in these. Aren’t you two cold?” Woozi asked, tugging at his jacket for emphasis.

“I like the cold,” Luna replied simply, her hair catching the light as a breeze swept through the gym, brushing it back elegantly. The casual grace of her response made the members laugh again, nodding in amused agreement.

[Luna likes the cold]

Jeonghan, standing beside her, shook his head with a fond smile. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began rubbing her arms briskly with his palms to warm her up.

“It’s pretty cold,” Dino admitted, now slightly subdued. He looked around the group, his sincerity returning. “Anyway, it was fun today. I made a lot of good memories with them. It was a meaningful day.”

PD Na glanced around, waiting for someone else to step forward and speak, before pointing at Luna. “Our cheerleader,” he called out, prompting the group tolook at her.

“Our Ice Princess,” S.Coups teased, grinning as Luna scrunched her nose playfully and chuckled.

Luna stepped forward gracefully, adjusting her hair away from her face. “I just want to thank PD Na and the rest of the Game Caterers staff and crew for making us feel welcome and taking care of us,” she began, her voice steady and warm as she addressed both the group and the cameras. “We had a lot of fun, and I know CARATs will too once they watch this. I am also really excited for ‘Youth Over Flowers’, which will be coming soon.” She ended with a bright smile, her sincerity evident.

Seungkwan, still clutching the oversized trophy, decided to finish things off. He stepped forward, holding the trophy like a prized possession.

“Thank you for making good memories for us and for CARAT,” he said, his voice earnest and filled with gratitude. “I’m not tired at all. It was so much fun.”

“It couldn’t get any better.” Dokyeom raised two thumbs up.

The members murmured their agreement, nodding as the cameras captured their warm smiles and the camaraderie that radiated from the group.

Mingyu stepped forward, patting S.Coups on the back with a grin. “Go, leader,” he said, his voice playful but encouraging, signaling the leader to take charge of their final team goodbye. S.Coups gave a small nod, straightening up as he prepared to rally the group for their trademark farewell.

“We’re SEVENTEEN. Say the name…” S.Coups began, his tone commanding but warm, as he raised his hand in the familiar team gesture.

“SEVENTEEN!” the group chorused, their voices harmonizing as they completed the hand sign together. It was a moment of unity, their energy radiating as they all bowed in unison to the cameras.

“Thank you!” the members echoed, their voices overlapping as they began waving enthusiastically to the crew, staff, and cameras.

As if on cue, the chorus of ‘Very Nice’ burst through the speakers, instantly reigniting the playful atmosphere. Some of the members immediately broke into the iconic choreography, moving to the beat with exaggerated enthusiasm.

['VERY NICE' ending]

[Automatic reaction]

Luna, standing slightly to the side, couldn’t help but bounce along to the music, her steps lazy but rhythmic as she swayed in time with the beat. Her movements were lighthearted, her smile growing as she watched the chaos unfold.

Meanwhile, a few of the others— like Joshua— began revisiting the meme-worthy dance moves he had displayed earlier during the game. Mingyu and Dokyeom gleefully copied his exaggerated arm movements, adding their own flair, as the rest of the group either danced or clapped along.

The chorus of ‘Very Nice’ reached its peak, the members’ energy infectious, before the song faded out. As the final notes ended, PD Na leaned forward with a look of amusement in his face.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, his words simple but filled with gratitude.

Another chorus of “Thank you!” rang out from the members, accompanied by bows and waves as they expressed their appreciation to the staff and cameras one last time. Their voices mingled with laughter and cheerful goodbyes, the atmosphere light and celebratory as the filming officially came to an end.

[Their quick meet ended]

['Super' Challenge]

[April 27, 2023, SEVENTEEN's comeback week,CJ ENM in Sangam-dong]

The energy at CJ ENM was palpable, the staff bustling as SEVENTEEN’s comeback week hit full stride. The dressing room was filled with the faint buzz of conversation and last-minute touch-ups as the members prepared for their upcoming performance of Super.

The room was bathed in a mix of gold and deep blue— a reflection of the modern hanbok outfits they wore. Each piece was tailored to perfection, embodying a fusion of tradition and modernity.

[They're here for 'Super' Challenge]

Luna stood by the far wall, her back leaning casually against it. She wore a dark blue hanbok-inspired ensemble trimmed with gold accents. The modern twist came through in the short, pleated skirt and fitted bodice, which was adorned with delicate patterns reminiscent of celestial constellations. The sleeves were sheer, billowing lightly at the wrists, adding an ethereal touch to the look.

Jeonghan stood in front of her, one hand braced against the wall just above her head, his posture effortlessly casual. His long hair, framed his face as he leaned closer to speak. His voice was low, carrying a softness that only she could hear, while the corners of his lips curled into a smile. It was a sight that had become second nature to them— a stolen moment of their own amidst the chaos.

Their private bubble was abruptly pierced by a commotion of greetings from the hallway. A chorus of polite “Hello!” and excited murmurs filled the air.

Joshua, ever the observant one, peeked out of the doorway to investigate. His sharp eyes caught sight of PD Na and his crew approaching with their cameras already rolling. Without a word, Joshua turned back into the room and swiftly tapped Jeonghan and Luna on their shoulders, the urgency in his gesture clear.

Jeonghan immediately stepped back, his hand falling to his side as Luna straightened her posture. Their movements were seamless, and practiced. Though their relationship was known to their members, it remained a well-kept secret from the public. They both knew how to switch gears in an instant, their professionalism taking over.

Mingyu and Joshua were the first to step into the hallway, their smiles bright and their bows respectful. “Hello,” they greeted warmly.

“I can’t do it,” was the first thing PD Na said, his tone tinged with mock defeat. “I’ve seen it. Even singers can’t do it. How am I going to do it?”

[Whining]

Mingyu clapped wordlessly, his large hands creating a sound that echoed through the hallway, while Joshua chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

[Only the deities can do 'Super' challenge]

One by one, the members began filing out of the dressing room. S.Coups and Dino appeared next, their strides confident but relaxed.

“Did anyone do it?” PD Na asked, his curiosity genuine.

“Only one… Taeyang,” S.Coups replied, his tone matter-of-fact, earning a groan from PD Na.

[Na will be on the same level as Taeyang after this]

As Jun, Woozi, and Hoshi joined the gathering, PD Na’s shoulders slumped dramatically. “I’ll look forward to it,” Hoshi said, his tone teasing.

“It won’t be possible,” PD Na countered, shaking his head before grabbing Hoshi’s hands in genuine desperation. “Isn’t there an easy version?”

[Desperate look + Holding hands]

The hallway was now bustling, and most of the members already gathered to watch the challenge unfold. The atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and anticipation.

“Hello!” Luna stepped out next, her presence drawing immediate attention— not just because of her striking outfit but also because of the aura she carried. Jeonghan was right behind her, his gaze flickering briefly to ensure she was comfortable before he joined the others.

Jeonghan chuckled, glancing at Hoshi. “Hoshi, you should teach him.”

The members collectively moved closer, forming a loose semi-circle around the impromptu dance lesson. Dino leaned against the wall beside Luna, his arms crossed, observing the unfolding scene with a faint smirk. “Are you really going to teach him?” he asked skeptically.

“It’s a challenge, after all,” Hoshi replied with confidence, already rolling up the sleeves of his modern hanbok.

Hoshi stepped into the open space, his movements precise yet relaxed, demonstrating his mastery of the choreography.

He positioned himself, and with a deep breath, began. “‘Sono…’” Hoshi started, his voice carrying the iconic line from the song ‘Super’ as he stepped forward, demonstrating the first move.

PD Na mirrored the movement with hesitant precision, echoing, “‘Sono…’” His voice cracked slightly, drawing immediate cheers from the members watching.

“Oooohhh!” they chorused in unison, their exaggerated enthusiasm filling the hallway. The sound was loud enough to echo, making PD Na freeze mid-step. He turned to glare at the group, his expression caught between annoyance and amusement.

[SEVENTEEN cheers at Yung Suk's dance]

“Be quiet, for goodness’ sake,” he scolded them, though his tone lacked true bite. “Are you trying to lure people?”

[They're loud enough to draw everyone in the company]

The members erupted into laughter, clapping for him. Luna, resting her weight casually against the wall, grinned but said nothing, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Are you sure about this? We should find a way,” Mingyu interjected as they watched Hoshi teach PD Na, his tall frame towering over some of the others as he spoke. “Let’s all stand in a line and let him appear as he shakes.”

[Worried]

“That’s not a bad idea,” Wonwoo added thoughtfully, his arms folded across his chest.

[Or record each move separately and combine them]

Hoshi raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-step. “Should I record one at a time and edit it out?” he asked, the suggestion tinged with practicality.

“No. PD Na is a good dancer,” Luna said suddenly, her voice calm yet definitive. She had shifted to lean against the wall, her eyes fixed on the ongoing practice.

“He’s pretty good at it.” Mingyu chimed in, nodding in agreement.

“Left hand. Right hand. Gather. Stretch. Bam,” Hoshi instructed as he continued breaking down the choreography. His movements were slow and deliberate, ensuring PD Na could follow. PD Na tried again, his brows furrowed in concentration as he mimicked the steps.

From the sidelines, Wonwoo and S.Coups began shadowing the moves, their bodies swaying slightly as they followed Hoshi’s lead.

It wasn’t long before PD Na sighed, breaking the rhythm. “I won’t be able to memorize it,” he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation.

“But… you look like you can do it,” Joshua said encouragingly, earning a burst of laughter from PD Na.

“The song is too fast,” Wonwoo chuckled sympathetically, his tone almost apologetic.

“There’s a slow version, right?” Hoshi asked, glancing at the group as he paused to consider how to make things easier.

“Really?” PD Na perked up, hope flashing across his face. “Let’s use that. You should’ve told me earlier.”

[Smiling]

“That’s the happiest I’ve seen him today,” Luna deadpanned, her chin now resting lightly on Dino’s shoulder as she watched the scene unfold. Her dry remark sent another ripple of laughter through the group.

“You can fast forward it later,” PD Na quipped, shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

[He sees hope in 'Super' Challenge]

The group soon realized that their activity was drawing attention in the busy hallway. With SEVENTEEN members, their staff, and PD Na all gathered together, they were occupying an inconvenient amount of space. One of the managers gestured for them to move inside, and the group began filing back into their dressing room.

The room was bustling with energy as they entered, with costumes and makeup tools scattered around, and water bottles and snacks sitting on the tables. The warm, slightly chaotic environment made the transition seamless.

Once inside, the members naturally dispersed into smaller groups. Some settled into chairs, a few stood near the mirrors fixing their outfits, while others lingered near the snack table. Luna found a seat beside Mingyu at the long table where they often sat to eat or rest. She pulled out her phone, her attention immediately consumed by something on her screen. Mingyu, meanwhile, sat with a plate of food in front of him, chewing as he observed the ongoing commotion with quiet amusement.

In the center of the room, Hoshi stood ready to resume the lesson, his energy unflagging. PD Na stood opposite him, looking slightly frazzled but game to continue.

“Look at Mingyu’s face. He has no faith in me,” PD Na suddenly said, pointing toward Mingyu. His tone was half-serious, half-teasing, and it immediately drew laughter from the room.

Mingyu, mid-bite, glanced up at the accusation. His chewing slowed, and he raised an eyebrow in mock offense.

[Eating]

Jeonghan, standing nearby, chimed in teasingly, “That’s disappointing.” He gestured toward Mingyu, his expression feigning disapproval.

“You look mean,” Mingyu shot back at Jeonghan, his words slightly muffled by the food in his mouth. He paused, then continued with exaggerated seriousness, “Jeonghan is smiling, but he has a bad intention behind his smile.”

The observation earned a laugh from Jeonghan, who couldn’t help the mischievous glint in his eye. His shoulders shook as he leaned back, clearly amused.

PD Na shifted his gaze, suddenly aware of the time crunch. “When does M Countdown begin?” he asked, his tone shifting to something more urgent.

“They have to be on standby in five,” one of the staff members answered promptly.

PD Na pulled out his phone, checking the time for himself. “We only have five minutes left,” he muttered, his expression growing slightly panicked.

Realizing the need to hurry, Hoshi and Jeonghan wordlessly teamed up, their natural camaraderie making the transition seamless. Hoshi gestured for PD Na to watch closely as he demonstrated the move again.

“‘I feel like Sonogong’,” Jeonghan and Hoshi sang the first line of the chorus of ‘Super’, his movements sharp and fluid. Jeonghan immediately mirrored him, harmonizing the line in perfect sync. Together, they moved through the choreography, their voices blending as they repeated the steps. “Left hand. Right hand. Gather. Stretch. Bam.”

PD Na mimicked their moves with increasing confidence, though his motions lacked the precision of the two seasoned performers. “One more time,” Hoshi said, his tone patient but firm.

They repeated the sequence, with Jeonghan stepping in closer to correct PD Na’s posture, while Hoshi slowed the tempo slightly to make it easier.

From the sidelines, S.Coups burst into laughter. He clapped his hands together, his body doubling over as he leaned into Luna and Mingyu, wrapping an arm around each of them for support.

“I can’t believe it works,” Dino commented from where he stood, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Good. Good,” S.Coups chuckled, still draped over Luna and Mingyu, his amusement infectious.

Just as the atmosphere hit its peak, one of the SEVENTEEN staff members entered the room, their voice cutting through the chatter. “Vocal team, standby!” they announced, their tone brisk and authoritative.

[Vocal Team has to go]

The mention of standby immediately set the vocal unit into motion. Joshua, Woozi, Seungkwan, Dokyeom, Jeonghan, and Luna moved toward the door with practiced efficiency, their casual demeanor never betraying the professionalism they exuded on stage.

[Time is getting near]

Dokyeom turned back just before leaving, offering a warm smile and a quick, “Good luck,” to PD Na. Jeonghan and Luna both paused to bow politely in his direction, their gestures respectful yet swift.

“Fighting!” Luna added her voice light but encouraging as she stepped out alongside the others. The door closed behind them, leaving the rest of the group to resume their antics inside.

[They're running out of time]

[They proceed before other teams go]

The group transitioned smoothly to the next segment of filming— the dance challenge.

SEVENTEEN’s staff was already setting up, a camera in hand, adjusting its angle to focus on PD Na, who stood at the forefront with Hoshi and Vernon. The rest of the members lingered toward the back, casually chatting and watching the preparations unfold. The room buzzed with anticipation, the energy lively but focused.

The camera operator stepped into position, holding the lens steady in front of PD Na. “Here we go. Producer Na, smile please,” the staff member directed cheerfully, their tone lighthearted yet professional. PD Na’s lips twitched into a nervous, awkward smile that immediately drew quiet laughter from the observing members.

[His debut is near]

[The original 'Super' challenge video]

“Oh, this is so much fun. I’m so happy,” PD Na muttered dryly, his tone dripping with sarcasm, which only made the group laugh harder.

Hoshi, ever the performer, clapped his hands together once. “Okay. We’re ready,” he announced confidently, his enthusiasm practically infectious.

From the back of the room, Mingyu’s voice cut through the chatter, a touch of playful encouragement in his tone. “Let’s go,” he said, his eyes on the small group preparing to dance.

The camera operator gave the signal, and the recording began. The room fell silent except for the faint sound of the music cueing up in the background. The slowed version of ‘Super’ started to play, the opening beats recognizable and immediately captivating.

“‘I feel like Sonogong,’” Hoshi sang softly in sync with the music, his voice steady as he led the opening line. He immediately transitioned into the dance, his movements sharp but slowed for PD Na to follow. “Left hand. Right hand. Gather. Stretch. Bam,” Hoshi directed patiently, his voice clear as he guided each step. Vernon mirrored Hoshi’s movements, his casual energy balancing Hoshi’s intensity, while PD Na tried his best to keep up. His steps were a bit offbeat, but the earnest effort was enough to keep the room entertained.

[Even you can do 'Super' challenge]

From the back, the other members watched with amusement, their faces alight with pride and humor as PD Na fumbled through the steps. Dino and Seungkwan exchanged grins, while S.Coups subtly mimicked the dance in his spot, his movements exaggerated for comedic effect. The playful energy radiating from the group was infectious.

As the song reached its conclusion, Hoshi called out, “Everyone, gather for the ending.” His voice carried over the music, and the rest of the members jumped into action, stepping into the frame with practiced ease. They surrounded PD Na, forming a loose circle as they struck playful poses, waving and smiling toward the camera.

“Bye!” they all chorused, their voices overlapping as they waved enthusiastically. The final shot captured their bright expressions, the harmony of their personalities blending seamlessly into a single moment of lighthearted fun.

[Nice wrap up]

When the camera stopped rolling, applause erupted from the group. The members clapped for PD Na, their cheers loud and encouraging. The producer grinned sheepishly, clearly relieved that the challenge had concluded successfully.

“I’ll be out of town for a while,” PD Na said, straightening up and adjusting his jacket. “Call me when you’re done performing. Bye now.” He waved as he turned to leave, the members bidding him farewell with warm smiles and cheerful gestures.

['Super' Challenge is over]

As the door closed behind him, the room seemed to exhale collectively, the energy shifting back into a more relaxed rhythm as the group prepared for the next activity.

[Let's meet again one day]

[The Game Caterers]

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[jolalibrary]

12. stormy sky

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter twelve of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.6k chapter warnings: anxious!reader. allusions to bad mental health day/sadness. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is dedicated to all those who sometimes just need a day, a hug and a love. i see you, and i love you (notes at the bottom).

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It wasn’t often you felt the storm coming before it arrived.

At times, it was kind enough to make itself more obviously known than on other occasions. Sometimes, it just happened, almost beyond your control—a feeling that wells up inside, leaving you in a funk for a day or two.

An unexplainable force that commands you to smile outwardly but crumble inwardly.

Then, you rise again the next morning, or in a few, completely anew—like nothing had ever happened.

Occasionally, it rides in on unexplainable sadness that follows you like a rain cloud, spreading out into swelling grief that chokes you from the inside out. Other times, it would be a headache that bloomed behind your eyes into something uncontrollable, unmanageable, that only settled with bedsheets and darkness.

As soon as the email appeared in your inbox, you felt the latter. It throbbing, pulsing—beginning somewhere between your second to final nerve.

Things shifting; a wave forming. One which rose inside of you when you weren’t aligning with the person you were working with. It growing. Swelling. Expanding inside of you to the point you were sure it was going to dislodge bone and deform you forever. The words on the screen slowly blur, barely discernible as sentences and not just another paragraph of failure.

You knew this could happen. From time to time creative visions weren't always going to align. A thing you reminded yourself of regularly, routinely. Telling yourself it in the shower, mirror or as you make your third coffee past midnight.

It never does lessen the sting, though.

Just like now, when your hand can't seem to stop slamming the lid of your laptop shut, or when you find yourself nervously nursing your lower lip between your teeth, a bubbling sensation begins within. Your mind fractures, allowing a flood of negative thoughts to pour forth, corroding, spewing and slathering itself over everything good.

You clutch at your phone, feeling the rubber of your case. Not even thinking; not even checking the time—just calling.

And hoping.

Waiting.

As soon as you hear his sunshine-like voice say your name and 'Are you okay?' (practically spoken as one word), you feel yourself take a breath.

Becoming aware, only then, of how damp your cheeks are, that your hand is shaking as he repeats the question, more gently, less dunked in worry.

Surprisingly, it feels easy to say no. To unravel silently to him as he asks you a question you rarely have been asked: 'Do you want to talk about it or something different?'

It’s small, a simple thing. But your heart swells. Your shoulders unlodge themselves from your ears and your spine softens, making the choice, all with far too much ease. Taking in the sound of his voice as he clears it, you hear him ask lowly and gruffly if you're comfortable before he begins explaining how he has a non-permanent tattoo of a creature on his arm.

Not a dinosaur, Rainy. Not even something born or created from Jurassic Park—and how he was worried that due to its placement, people would think Harold’s had become rougher, more dangerous business.

“Dangerous?”

You swear you hear him shrug. “People might see me, all tattooed up and think the worst of the place.”

Giggling, your fingers massage your head. “Where is it?”

“Guess.”

For a brief moment, like when light shines from behind the clouds, you grin. Guessing, naming body parts you know it couldn’t be, but only to hear his laugh—bathe in the joy that he can only summon, rinse your woes in it in the hope tomorrow you wake lighter.

“Ass.”

“They’d definitely think Harold’s had fucking changed if my ass is out baby.”

Smirking, climbing into bed (his advice, one you happily took). “I think I’d visit more. It’s peachy.”

Peachy he scoffs, but you swear he’s grinning. Adjusting the t-shirt as you lie down—one of his, stolen (with permission) from the drawer you’d made for him, taking in the scent of him, all musk, wood and man as you welded it with the voice as you discover it’s on his cheek.

“How are you going to explain that one?”

His laugh flows down the phone, meeting your ear as you lean against your pillows, trying (with all that you have) to almost convince yourself that he was here—and not streets and streets away.

Morning, guess what doesn’t come off with soap and a scrub? A monster.

Hope you slept okay, baby. Can bring a coffee round on my break. Can even see if I can sweet-talk a larger one for you. Put it in a flask.

Rainy, you awake?

Baby I don’t mean to worry, I bet you’re fine, just busy caught up in doing work, but just let me know you’re okay.

I have the spare key still from that delivery. If you don’t want to see me, tell me.

You’re not sure of the time—drifting on wood out at the sea of your own making. Having done so for a while.

Distantly aware of the passing of time. That it was no longer 3 am, which had been the last time you'd last checked the time. The sun is far too bright through your curtains; desperate to claw its fingers in and yank you from your sheets.

It doesn't, can't.

Instead, you're floating; lost somewhere between awake and asleep—only being disturbed, rocked from it, at the sound of your front door opening. The stiffness of the door, the squeak of a floorboard. All things which should fill you with alarm, but barely make your head move.

Because it's thumping.

Pounding.

Too much stuffed in there to do anything but lie there. Split at the seams, the rest of you shaken like a snow globe.

It crosses your mind—briefly—that if they were here to rob you, they’d find very little to take. If they were here for you, they were most definitely mistaken. Your eyes struggle to stay open, even if your ears are tuning, trying to twist to each noise, only relaxing when you hear the intruder mutter fuck.

Because you know that fuck. Know the exact voice as though it lives in your head with the one that wouldn't quiet at 3 am.

For the most part, you have to admit Frankie is quiet. A skill he likely gained from his former life, the one where it was a necessity. He just didn’t know your home. You only being able to tell he’s here from the little things, like that he’s not completely aware your front door gets a little stuck when it’s really warm and that some floorboards are looser than others.

In the same way, he doesn’t know that if you open your partially shut bedroom door slowly, it groans like it’s being personally offended—

“Mierda.”

You’re sure you croak a Hi Frankie.

You think it anyway; wanting to give an invitation to come closer, to move further in as your eyes try to focus on the money tree named Moana. With each blink, the leaves slowly come into focus as you begin to adapt to the brightness cast in by, what you now assume must be the afternoon. Blinking when you see him crouch down, all soft curls and silky brown eyes.

“You worried me.”

Swallowing, struggling to shove the dryness back, you clear your throat. “Headache.”

He’s gentle, slowly placing his palm on the side of your head, thumb brushing over the skin above your brow as he shifts in his crouched position. “Worse than that time you told me about?”

“About the same.”

It’s quiet, the way he answers with okay. Thumb doing a final swipe before you hear a pop of his knee as he stands, a mumble of Be right back, baby before the floorboards creek and you can hear him opening and closing cupboards in your kitchen. With a sigh, you close your eyes briefly, being roused by a gentle breeze caressing your cheek to find he'd returned, a glass of water in one hand and a crinkling packet in the other.

“Do you want to get in?”

“Sure,” he says, in the familiar deep voice—as you shuffle with ease.

Not daring to lift your head, to move too quickly or violently. The mattress dips as the bed groans when he throws his feet up, sliding into the warmth you’ve been creating for hours, finding his eyes—how that worry is still there. It swirling, likely mixing with the gold flecks and deep browns you admire every chance you can get.

You worry you've spoiled them, tainted them. Made them swirl with sadness caused by worry. And the thought makes your insides hum, as though someone has plucked all your strings. The twang of it trying to mix with the other emotions you don't feel equipped to unpiece.

“I’m s—”

“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, firmly. Not accompanied by any smile.

A thing you know he means when he asks you, voice wrapped in satin, if you can take a sip for him. His arm slides around you, trying to pull you close as you do more than that, but rather consume, drain, and finish the glass.

When you hand it back, you think about the fact that a you with your head not coming apart might have teased him, might even throw your leg over his and asked him if he thinks sex gets rid of migraines like it does headaches. But, the words catch, stick and clag to the roof of your mouth.

Something rising, the emotions you’d shoved down trying to weave up. Climb. Stick their spikes into your oesophagus and crawl out your mouth. That is, until his palm spreads out, the width of his fingers sliding further up and along your spine. The act aiding you, guiding you to take a measured breath. One that stammers, hammers. One that floods inside of your chest, rising and rising like it wishes to crash against a beach and take everything to shore—

But, then it eases, calms.

All being gobbled back up, calmer waves lapping as you shift, seeing him lit by muffled, golden yellow. Listening to his heart, the breaths he takes as you try to follow them—even the scratching of his beard as he tucks himself closer and asks nothing, except silently, to be here.

Eventually, when you stop counting seconds, the quiet is broken—not rudely, or unnecessarily, but just with: “What can I do?”

“You’ve done it.”

Turning to see him—to find the gaze you know will already be on you. To look at the face you think of and have truthfully only wanted to see, there. You begin to explain, letting it all unravel, it unspooling from your tongue. Maybe sharing too much, like that no one you’ve dated has shown up like this before, and that you don’t ever expect him to do it again.

Shifting closer, as you continue talking, eyes closed to not aggravate what is trying to lessen, as you add extra context, sharing what happens, that you’re okay—but that sometimes you’re not. Statements, mainly. Likely broken sentences you somehow mash into paragraphs. Filling in the gaps, from the last weeks to now, to the email and then the call. How it happened—

“Maybe it’s because I’m happy.”

“Hmm?”

Shrugging gently against him, your chest fills with air before you exhale it in one long drag through your nose. “Maybe because I’m happy, my work isn’t that good.”

“Maybe.” His fingers find your chin, turning your eyes to his. “Or maybe he’s got very high expectations and the two of you just aren’t a good fit.”

Chewing your lip, you lower your gaze. “Yeah, maybe.” Unconsciously turning into the palm resting on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as you dare yourself to find his eyes. “I really hate people sometimes.”

Snorting, you feel his lips press to your forehead. “Let me tell you about this fucking asshole who tried to tell me the white paint he was buying wasn’t white.”

You press yourself closer to him ready to listen, hand sliding across his middle as you grasp more of his shirt, finding the smallest smile trying to crack through.

The next time you wake it’s to the smell of breakfast.

There's humming too, occasional words floating from the kitchen through the open door of your bedroom.

A coy smile already tugging across your cheek, the storm having waned, moved to the distance. But still, you test to see if it's safe as you lift from the pillows—sleep rubbed from your eyes as you spot the crumpled side of the bed. See the empty glass you’d drank before he held you, the jacket he’d been wearing when he’d showed up impromptu folded on the floor near the dresser.

Then, the grossness hits. The awareness that your skin feels claggy and awful, shuffling your feet from the bed, all the way to your bathroom.

His t-shirt peels from you with reluctance. The sadness eventually glides down the drain as the water falls down your skin—stepping out feeling refreshed.

Smiling as you head down the hallway, not forcing a smile as you slide your hands around his waist, fingers moving under the band of his tee, as they stroke over soft, warm skin and the dark hairs that swirl across his middle.

“Thank you,” you say, the words so large you hope they land with the weight you intend them to.

He turns and kisses you, whispering a don't against your minty mouth. Hovering for a moment there, before his mouth finds you again, more hungry, more laced with words as he presses you against the counter. Nowhere to go as he tilts your chin up. “You're worth showing up for, Rainy.”

You swear your heart triples in size as you bury your face in his tee and grin something stupid against him as he continues to sing whatever is playing out loud on his phone.

Do we need to go furniture shopping before or after you put the shelving in?

Probably before in case we need to order things. How’s your mini project coming along?

Well, I followed this tutorial by this very handsome man, and it seems easy to do, but my kitchen shelf isn’t straight.

Did you follow all of the instructions?

Now why would you assume I didn’t?

Because it sounds like you didn’t make sure it was level, baby.

Rude.

But did you?

I may have assumed that my eyesight was good.

How many holes do I need to fill in?

Oh, just the one.

In the wall.

Oh. Eight.

Since the moment he picked you up, you've been buzzing with excitement, just as you have been all week since he told you where he was taking you.

A skip in your step when you locked your door, the sun warming your skin in the short walk to the door he'd opened for you. Remembering how he teased you on the phone last night—you made a Pinterest board of what it could look like?—as you sat cross-legged on the couch, listening to him, shaking your head at the camera.

He handed you the coffee—brewed and made by him—only when you were seated. Another thing you were also sure had added to the swirling excitement in your stomach.

The drive, thankfully, hadn't been long. Undoing your belt when he kills the engine, his palm pressing down on your knee.

“No plants.”

“Are you asking me, or are you telling me?”

Leaning across the centre of his vehicle, he pulls your lips to his. “A very polite ask.”

“You don’t fancy your own Benedict or Henry?”

The tip of his nose touching yours, “I really don’t.”

You suggested other names as the two of you walked to the store's entrance, hand slotting inside his. Only silencing from your torment when your footsteps echoed softly against the glossy tile floors—blending with the rumbles of distant, murmured conversations, phone rings and furniture being rearranged.

Suddenly, the two of you were enveloped in the scents of polished wood and fresh upholstery, a scent you’re sure you used to like, but now really freaking loved.

Because this place is nice. The soft glow of overhead lights bathed the showroom in a warm, inviting ambience—casting a gentle spotlight on each carefully curated display. It was a scene straight out of a home decor magazine—every homeowner's dream.

"C'mon, Rainy," he coos, guiding.

Adding a soft this way from the back of his throat, becoming aware of his fingers brushing over the back of your jeans—along the pockets, along the expanse of your ass as you eye him, finding that same shy smirk that could explode into something more devilishly and ridiculously hard to resist.

A thing he already is without trying.

A thing which worsens when his arm comes around and keeps your side flush to his as the two of you make the way to the rows and rows of desks.

It makes sense to begin here.

To choose the ‘centrepiece’ of the room—as Frankie had explained on the drive—because everything has to fit around it. A thing you’d teased that you thought he was good at making things fit. To which he’d, playfully, replied that he was good, but he wasn’t fit-a-desk-and-a-dresser-an-armchair-and-shelving-good. A thing you'd promptly argued.

Stepping from his side, fingers brushing over the top of one, you glance over at them all. How they’re all vying for your attention, each with a unique allure. From sleek modern to rustic wood.

Catching Frankie's eye and with a mischievous grin, you take a seat behind one of the desks.

“Frank DIY’s office, how I can hammer you a good time today?” you say into the faux telephone, “Oh, I am sure Mr Morales would be able to… bend over and get himself in—I mean, you in.”

Frankie shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you get up and sit behind another, typing on the desk as a keyboard, pretending to stare at the unplugged monitor that had no computer with it. Then moving to another, one with a desk mat and no other items than a plant that looks chewed by tiny teeth, before pulling yourself on the wheels behind one with drawers and a keyboard but nil else.

“Oh, hello sir. Your 2 o’clock is here.”

“Is that right?” he asks, folding his arms. “What am I doing for this appointment?”

Smirking, fingers poised over the keys. “They wish to know how to check if a desk is stable. For two people.”

You hear him take in a breath. Lips threatening to spread into a smirk before he clears his throat. “To work at?”

Shaking your head, you grin.

“I’ll have to call my assistant in. She’s a handful, bad with drilling, but, she can help me.”

Laughing, almost hiccuping from it, he stares down at you—palms still very flat against the desk—as it fades and spreads into a smile that hurts your cheeks. “There it is.”

“There’s what?”

“My smile.”

Eyes widening, you snort. “Your smile?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Mine.”

Rolling your lips, standing from the wheely chair, you raise your brows. Moving around the edge, fingers dancing along the wood until you’re standing perfectly in front of him—eyeing him, as always unable to take your eyes from him.

“I think I like this one,” you add, running the tips of your fingers over the smooth surface of the desk. “There’s no price though—or sizing.”

Frankie glances at it, eyes flicking from each of the sides as he likely does math gymnastics. “You’ll have a lot of space for your dresser—the butterscotch one.”

“You just know that do you?”

“Grab a measuring tape and I’ll confirm it,” he grins.

Hand on hip, you arch a brow as Frankie's laughter fills the air, but you can see it in his eyes, the challenge.

“Get it yourself, Morales.”

Pinching your ass, he walks around it. “I’ll remember that.”

Shaking your head, he snaps a photo of the desk—staring at his screen to check it before locking it. His hand offered to you.

“Chairs?”

Leaning close, voice dropping, you—all velvet-like— whisper, “Your face not on offer when I’m working?”

Pink spreads up his neck, tongue clicking against his teeth, he smiles. Grins. His fingers tighten around yours as you’re sure his eyes actually sparkle. “From the way you weren’t able to form sentences last time, not sure you’d get much work done.”

The chairs, for how colourful and varying they were, felt less fun than desk shopping. Most of them were out of reach, high up on shelves—having to assess whether they were as comfortable as they looked or if it was a lie. A game that got less and less fun the more you trailed.

Frankie, likely guessing your joy was wavering, grabbed a basket at some point—allowing you to peruse the mini plant aisles and other decorative things. For your shelves, he said, for the shelves, you replied, grinning, even as you grabbed a particularly wiry cactus you named Cisco.

“You think you’ve got at least one of everything in here?”

Fake laughing, your elbow confidently finds his side—hearing a gruff huff from him. “Almost. I just need—”

Eyes spotting it, body moving all of its own accord as though the required item had been lit under a spotlight and heaven-like noises had begun playing. Fingers gliding over each, brushing over fleece fluff that left marks of your touch, to more knitted, firmer types, too many choices all to be shared at, contemplated.

You feel it before you see it. Pain flaring from your side as your head whips—meeting the disgruntled face of another shopper, the end of their cart still firmly against your side as though somehow, you were the one who was required to move. Even after he’d practically rammed the cart into you.

“Hey man, watch it,” Frankie says, arm sliding around you, pulling you close.

The smallest of gaps made, created, between yourself and the offending cart. The pain throbbing, the embarrassment simmering, as you fight rubbing the impacted sight as it continued to pound, hearing:

And maybe, if you had looked across, you would have seen the man scoff—observed the expression that made Frankie tense even more protectively next to you You would have noticed why his usually soft smile shifted into a thin line as a storm brewed inside of him before you heard:

“She's the one in the way.”

An adult-like response if you've ever heard one. A thing you shake your head at, but reach your hand up to touch Frankie's chest, tapping lightly as you watch him visibly swallow whatever had been about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he mutters a few choice curses under his breath, shooting a silent but determined look to the person as they mumbled the most pathetic apology known.

But, you didn’t, don’t.

Because, if you had, you'd have missed the way it all vanished when his eyes met yours. How it was erased, wiped all clean. Every affliction on his face, from the hardened eyes to the twitch of his nose, slipped away back to its recess.

“You alright, baby?”

Not one blame placed on you; not even a thought to do so, as his knuckles brush your cheek.

“I’m fine, Butterscotch. It's nice to meet protective you, though.” His eyes shifting from you quickly, the deepest of reds flooding his ears, you flatten your hand to his chest. “I appreciate it.”

Meeting your stare, he swallows. “You sure you're okay?”

Biting the inside of your cheek when his palm, warm and spreading heat, begins stroking over the offended area, you nod. Grinning.

Because if anything, you're pretty sure you might be in love with him.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

notes: i've drip fed rainy's difficult client for a few chapters now, as well as her little wobbles with anxiety. i know this isn't everyone's experience, but i think we can all relate to those days when getting out of bed just feels hard. i hope you're all okay, and just know i'm always here. no one is ever alone when the grey clouds are overhead, even if they clouds hope to make us feel that way. ily all, jo.

[saintescuderia]

ANTINAL // CS55

(a pancakes oneshot!)

AKA - carlos tries the local food in jeddah without you - and suffers as a result

series masterlist here :)

the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: this was written as a coping mechanism for the fact that carlos is sick and might not make jeddah

“Please tell me what you were thinking.” 

You walked into the room to see the Spanish driver sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes from the nap you had just woken up him from. Good. You had seen his Instagram story and the bragging of the 50km bike ride around Jeddah. With the Ferrari contract coming to an end, Onoro was working overtime. Carlos’ schedule was now jam packed with all these PR moments, both official in having meetings and dinners, and unofficial and his Instagram was now becoming his CV. 

Case in point, let me show off my athleticism. 

“I wanted to go for a bike ride.” Carlos said simply. His ran a hand through his bed hair, wild from his nap, and then his eye adjusted to you. “Don’t dump your bag there.”

“Then don’t keep your shoes here.” You retorted as, of course, his shoes were right by the door. You two had often argued about it, him haphazardly taking them off as he walked into the hotel and you tripping over them and then nagging him about it as you kicked them to the side. As now, you nagged at him and kicked the white sneakers out of your path. 

However, in doing so, you stopped and bent down to pick up the shoes. You looked at him and then back at the shoe with the Nike swish. A surprised smile found its way on your face, distracting you from the issue at hand. 

“You went out in dunks?” 

“You bought them for me to wear.” He said as if it were obvious. “Girlfriend affect.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute that was. For a second, the whole thing disarmed you and made your forget why you had rushed to the hotel room in a huff. 

Then Carlos reached for some pills on his bedside table and it all came rushing back. 

It wasn’t like you disagreed with all the extra stuff Onoro had his cousin do. Carlos needed to start working now if he wanted to find another seat for next year. You all agreed to it. What you didn’t agree to was Carlos taking stupid risks with his training and doing stuff like a 50km bike ride in Saudi Arabian weather without you. The heat stroke alone was enough to knock him out and prevent him from actually racing that weekend. 

Case in point, right now. 

“Alright kids I gotta get to work, if I don’t input those numbers… doesn’t make much of difference.”

You snorted, immediately tuning into the iconic voice of one Chandler Bing. You look to where the TV was playing one of the earlier season of FRIENDS, the cast looking especially younger. You looked back at Carlos and frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“What? You always say I should watch it.” He said. 

It wasn’t that Carlos was watching FRIENDS. It was the fact that he was in bed watching FRIENDS. If there ever was someone more pedantic about sleep hygiene, it was him. If he had just woken up from a nap, it wasn’t planned. Suddenly, your worry about his wellbeing overtook your anger. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you came to sit on the edge of the bed he was still reclined in. You brought a hand to his forehead and noted his temperature. Nothing alarming. Though, he was shirtless and the AC was on. You also noted the green gel of aloe vera he had likely stolen from your own suitcase. At least he was taking care of himself. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He said and reached up to bring the hand that was feeling his forehead to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your fingers. You rolled your eyes but still couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re not going to get out of this.”

“Out of what?”

“Carlos, I saw your story.” You said. 

“One second mi amor.” Carlos flipped the bed sheets back and then climbed out of bed. He rushed to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. You stared at him confusedly as suddenly there was music playing from inside the bathroom. You were really at a loss with this one. Especially since you recognised the song and wondered since when your boyfriend willingly listened to Metro Boomin? 

Carlos was particular about his bathroom time and if he was playing music, you could only assume he wasn’t in there just to take a piss. Evidently he was going to be in there for a while and that meant you would have to occupy yourself until then. 

There was a coffee machine at the small kitchenette that was calling your name. You had woken up earlier than usual to help Oscar through some drills before the race weekend and the need for caffeine was all too real. As you popped the pod into the Nespresso machine, you realised the spread of half-eaten food Carlos had likely ordered - and dumped into the kitchen sink. 

You knew his diet well since you had been the one to essentially create it. It had been a painstaking process to carefully craft a regime that allowed Carlos to hit his protein goals - and indulge in his love for food. Because man, did Carlos love food. He had pretty much wept at the sight of you poached chicken breast all those many months ago. Since the relationship between the two of you had shifted on from the strictly business of a trainer-driver relationship to becoming a fully fledged romantic couple, Carlos had taken you out to countless restaurants. He had a list in his Notes app of all his favourite restaurants, bars and cafes all around the world and had decided to take you to every one come a Grand Prix weekend.  

You thought it was stupid since he needed to work but one could never be mad at those eyes. It was how he managed to get you to let him eat all that he did. 

So to see that Carlos Sainz, the Spanish foodie Carlos Sainz, had ordered a lunch of plain fruits and plain toast— you were immediately confused. Suspicious even. Carlos eating plain toast was… unfathomable. 

You made your coffee and opted to just wait until Carlos could explain his choice of breakfast. The way you saw it was that he was restricting himself with such low calorie foods in the hope of shedding weight and hopefully then bettering his race. 

The coffee had finished pouring and you huffed as you picked up the cup and went to sit on the bed. 

“I can’t stop smiling.”

“I can see that. It’s like you slept with a hanger in your mouth.”

Sitting on the bed, you blew on your coffee and tried to focus on Rachel and Monica on the TV - and not how Carlos was currently his own worse enemy. It was no use to tell him off now. Reyes had told you how the Junior was like the Senior in the toilet being a sacred space. You don’t bother Carlos on the toilet. 

You had done that once and it was the only time Carlos had ever snapped at you. 

Something buzzed in your pocket. It was likely Oscar asking about lunch and so you went to set the coffee on the bedside table to free up your hands and respond - when you saw it. 

You recognised the Ferrari water bottle with the personalised 55 decoration. 

You also recognised the Antinal box of pills that were half opened beside it. 

Oh. 

Suddenly all the puzzle pieces clicked into place. The plain foods, the lack of forewarning as he jumped to the toilet, the impromptu nap. Carlos wasn’t unfit for Jeddah because he was overworking himself, Carlos was unfit for Jeddah because he had diarrhoea.  

Looking down at the familiar bottle of pills, your only question now was how in the fuck Carlos knew to take it. Sure, Antinal would’ve been your go to if you were hit with gastro or food poisoning or whatever it was that was now plaguing your boyfriend. Your auntie used to have a hoarded stock of the medication in her cupboard above the microwave. You swore that the stuff was magic. It was better than any of the medication you had found in the US or UK. Though, how Carlos had managed to get hold of Egyptian diarrhoea medication was beyond you. 

You looked back at the white dunks by the door and remembered how while you had been training with your brother, your boyfriend had been doing some PR for Saudi Arabia and touring the local streets. 

The door finally opened and out came Carlos, patting his stomach. You said nothing as he came to sit on the bed beside you, not questioning how you took his side. He wordlessly climbed back under the covers and you felt all the anger, all the worry wash out of you. All you felt now was genuine fondness for the sick boy beside you. 

“You tried the local food without me.”

It was a statement but Carlos still curled up beside you and mumbled an affirmative “Yes.” to your side. Your arm came up to wrap around him and start playing with his hair. 

“How the fuck did you find Antinal?”

“I asked Oscar.” 

“Oh, habibi.” You couldn’t help but croon as you had to imagine Carlos going to your brother, someone he admittedly didn’t get along with all too well and asking for help because he had stomach problems. Still, you knew Oscar wouldn’t have said anything or made jokes. No matter his feelings towards Carlos, Oscar wasn't like that. Besides, you had taught the young driver enough.

For example, to always have gastro medication. No matter what. 

Carlos didn’t saying anything and you didn’t feel the need to add anything. Instead, you slowly got up from sitting on top of the covers and came to slide yourself underneath them. You brought your arm back around Carlos and resumed your comforting massage as he rested beside you, eyes closed. You, however, were sipping on your coffee, half your attention on the 90s sitcom currently playing - “I can’t believe you didn’t know it was a line!” - and the blue and grey text bubbles between you and the driver you considered your little brother.

Oscar was now asking if dinner was an option since lunch was evidently now forgone that Carlos was asleep next to you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Or so you thought was asleep. You blinked, looking down at the boyfriend you thought had drifted off again. 

“For what?” You said, dropping your phone and sliding down to bring your face to his. You lightly traced his face and saw the way his frown between his brows eased, his lips lifted slightly. 

“Ricciardo made a joke about my contract in front of Lewis. It’s why I went out for that bike ride and posted about it.” He admitted. You bit back any of the words that immediately came to mind and how you wanted to rip into the stupidity of letting someone like Daniel Ricciardo getting to him. Sure, there was some clear bad blood but you really had hoped Carlos wouldn’t have let it get to him. Danny was just a scorned ex after all.

“If anything, I should be mad that you went to explore restaurants without me." You said lightly. "What happened to us having one couple date a weekend?”

Carlos’ eyes blinked open at that as his smile grew. You felt warmth inside you bloom seeing that beautiful, beautiful smile of his. Your phone buzzed again and you turned over to pick it up and read the message from Oscar. You snorted. 

“What?” Carlos asked. 

“Oscar says he hopes you feel better.” 

“That’s nice of him.” Carlos said, sitting up slightly to reach over you and go for his water bottle. This made you sit up also and now you both had your backs to the headboard, sitting up in the bed. 

“I think he just wants you to race so he can get payback for Spa last year.” You said. Oscar’s next text thread confirmed this and you chuckled and went to pick up your coffee to take a sip. Carlos shook his head and went back to lay his head on the pillow. 

“When does this kick in?”

“The antinal?” You asked, grinning as you still couldn’t believe Carlos Sainz was using your Middle Eastern auntie’s magical cure for anything stomach related. “Maybe an hour after taking it, depending on how bad it is.” Carlos frowned and closed his eyes, shifting a lot as he tried to get comfortable back in the bed. Your grin fell slightly and you brought your hand back to his hair. 

“Sleep it off, habibi.”

“What are you going to do?” 

“Watch FRIENDS.” You said with a shrug. 

“I was supposed to watch it.”

“Not my fault.” You sassed back. “I’ll rewatch it with you again later. You just work on fixing your stomach and I’ll read through race strategies and debrief you later in case you can race.” You paused and took a sip of your coffee. “I also need to convince Lando to come to dinner.”

“Why?”

“Since you and I haven’t had dinner and I was supposed to be with Oscar for lunch but I’m here with you.” You explained. "He's wanting dinner plans."

“He saw you all of yesterday and this morning.” 

Carlos' complaints made you smile. “We’ll go out us four. You two can bond again.”

He only huffed. “When have we ever bonded?”

“When you got over yourself and asked him for antinal because you wouldn’t stop shitting?”

Carlos’ response was to reach his hand up and flick you on the nose. 

[katareyoudrilling]

Evidence ✂️ (Tim Rockford One-shot)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Summary: Tim knows a lot about vasectomies

Word count: ~1.8k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Vasectomy kink (aka the opposite of breeding kink), unprotected PIV, vague detective work (don’t worry about it), destruction of important documents?

A/N: It has been a while since I wrote one of these! Big thanks to @veryprairieberry for sparking the idea and for patience while I pondered it for a very long time.  Also, thanks to @burntheedges for the beta and assuring me I was not crazy lol.  All my vasectomy kinks are marked with “✂️” and linked on my new Vasectomy Kink Masterlist!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Think,” Tim admonishes himself, staring at the board filled with crime scene photographs and bits of evidence.  “What are we missing?”

“We’ve been staring at it for days.” You pull at your neck, trying to relieve the tension, a habit you likely picked up from your partner.  Sharing an office with someone will do that.  You sigh and sit down at your desk, leafing through pages of witness testimony you’ve gone over a hundred times already.  “Maybe we should call it a night.  Look again in the morning?”

A knock at the door interrupts you. “Excuse me, detectives, the medical records you requested arrived. Thought I’d drop them off on my way out.” A lackey from the records office holds out a manilla envelope in Tim’s direction.

“Thanks,” Tim stands up from the chair he had been straddling and takes the envelope.  He pulls out the stack of papers and begins to scan them one by one.

“I don’t know what you expect to find in there.” Your frustration over this case has made you pessimistic.

“You never know,” Tim mumbles under his breath as he continues reading page after page.  You go back to your testimony, looking for anything you could have missed.  Apparently, you’re not done for the evening.

“Got it!” Tim exclaims making his way over to you and dropping the stack of papers on top of your desk with a thud.

You read the top page.  “He had a vasectomy?”

“He had a vasectomy,” Tim repeats back to you.  “Five years ago.  He isn’t the father.”

“You don’t know that.  Vasectomies fail.” It’s compelling, but not the slam dunk Tim seems to think.

“No, they don’t, not if…” He shuffles through the papers some more.  “There,” he points to a test result a few pages later, “he gave a follow up sample and no sperm was detected.  The chance of a vasectomy failing after that point is basically zero. Men just say that to get out of having it done.”

“How do you know so much about vasectomies?”

“Well, I had one.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, long time ago,” he says distractedly as he makes his way back to the board of evidence, rearranging things in light of this new discovery.  He picks up his mug of, what has to be by now, very cold coffee and takes a sip.

You, on the other hand, are frozen at your desk.  Tim had a vasectomy?  Tim is shooting blanks?

This information is eliciting a strong reaction in your body.

It’s swooping through your gut.

It’s making your palms sweat and your skin prickle.

It’s…

Rage.

Burning rage floods your system, heating your skin and making your heart pound.

“You had a vasectomy?” you ask him again, trying to keep your tone even.

“Yeah, are you… angry?” Tim turns to face you, looking confused.  Maybe your voice wasn’t as neutral as you hoped.

“I’ll be asking the questions, Detective Rockford.”  You push back from your desk and stand up slowly. You take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose, keeping your voice deadly calm, as if you’re interrogating a suspect. His forehead creases in confusion, but he waits for you to speak. “When did you have it done?”

“Twelve years ago now, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I decided kids weren’t something I was interested in, seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I see,” you pace across the room, tapping your finger to your lips, rage still simmering below the surface of your skin.

His eyes follow you as you go.

“You made this decision on your own?”

“Well, yeah.  I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. I don’t und….” You hold up a finger to silence him mid-sentence.

“You found the doctor, scheduled it, all of that?”

“Of course.”

“So, you are telling me…” You turn to face him as he takes another sip of his coffee, “that I could have had you bare these past six months?”

Tim chokes.

When he finally stops coughing, he wipes his hand across his mouth.  “Is that why you’re upset?”

“Yes! We’ve been using condoms when we didn’t need to!”

“There are other reasons to wear a condom.”

“Do I need to be worried about any of those reasons with you?”

“Well, no.”

“You don’t need to be worried about them with me either.”

“I never thought I did.”

“You’re so fucking responsible.”  The words come out angry, but there’s a new heat growing in your core. Responsibility is fucking hot.

“I’m… sorry?” Tim apologizes as you make your way to the office door and lock it.

“You should be sorry.”  You stalk towards him until you’re close enough to grab him by the holsters.  You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat.  You pull yourself flush with his front, noting the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“How can I make it up to you?” he rasps.

“Fuck me on your desk, Detective.  Bare.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re angry,” he growls, pulling you into a searing kiss.  His tongue invades your mouth as you both scramble with belts, buttons, and clasps.  You’ve come to love the taste of bitter coffee and Chinese takeout on Tim’s tongue.  Tastes you will forever associate with him as it’s never been very long since he’s had either.

Your clothes come off quickly in between frantic kisses, but you stop him as he moves to remove his shirt and holsters. “Don’t… I need something to hold on to.”

“Fuck, baby, when you say things like that…” his fingers dig into your bare hips as you set your ass at the edge of the desk and lean back on your elbows, opening yourself up for him with a smirk.  

Tim’s cock bobs eagerly in front of you, framed by his open shirt.  He takes it in his hand, stroking slowly up and down the thick length.

Pages of documents crinkle underneath you, but you can’t care.  Right now, all that matters is the beautiful man looking down at you with lust blown eyes.

“I want your cock, Tim. Now.”

He steps into the space between your open legs, cock in hand, and guides the tip through your wet pussy.  You both groan as he nudges at your clit and drags back through your folds.

“So wet,” he whispers, reverently.  He repeats his path several times, coating his cock in your slick before notching the head at your entrance.  “You sure you don’t want my fingers first?”

You vehemently shake your head and bite your lip as you look down between your legs.  He nudges at your entrance gently and you whimper.

“I know baby, I know,” he soothes you, and probably himself, from how completely wrecked he looks – slack jawed and panting.  With a guttural groan, he breaches your entrance.

You both watch as his bare length disappears into your wet heat.

“Oh god, fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head as he enters you slowly, stretching your sensitive pussy around his cock, working his way in inch by inch.  You feel the thick ridge of his head drag along your walls as your body gives way.  Without any barrier between you, the sensation is divine.

“Fuck, baby,” Tim breathes as he bottoms out inside you.  “I need a second.  You feel so good.”  He closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling of you. His hands flex against your bare thighs as he takes deep, centering breaths. 

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze with yours and, slowly, starts to move.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with each slow thrust and drag of his cock.  Sex with Tim has been good, great even, but this… this is heaven.  You glance down to watch his clock slide in and out of you.  The sight of him veiny and glistening is almost too much to bear.  Your pussy begins to flutter.

Tim leans over you, pressing your knees into your chest. “Fuck, you’re amazing.  So wet and hot and tight. It’s been…. oh god… so long…”

The new angle hits just right and you can feel your orgasm building.  

“Yes, just like that,” you throw your head back.  “Fuck, your cock feels good.”

Tim licks his thumb and finds your clit between your bodies, speeding up your impending release.

“Are you going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you beg, feeling the telltale pressure deep in your core.

“You have to be quiet for me,” he rumbles under his breath.  You’re not new to sneaking around at work, but until now you had saved the fucking for outside the office.  “Look at us,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

You look down and gasp at the sight of his thick cock entering your pussy. The last of your control snaps and you’re pulsing around him as you try not to scream his name and announce your relationship to the entire precinct.

When you come back to yourself, Tim is still slowly dragging himself through your sensitive walls, nostrils flared, clearly fighting to delay his own release.

Aftershocks zing through your body and you clench around him.

He hisses and pauses, “Baby, if you squeeze me like that, I’m going to come.”

You smile to yourself as he picks up his rhythm again, then squeeze as he pulls most of the way out.

He gasps and pulls out the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to your knee and laughing, “You have to stop that.”

“What if I don’t want to stop that?”  You reach between your legs with one arm and grab his holster, pulling him to you for a sloppy kiss.  “I want you to come.  Fill me up, Detective.”

Tim practically growls as he lines himself back up with your entrance and slides in fast and deep.  You bring your other hand up to grab the holster on the other side, balancing on your ass and holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you.  His strong arms cage you in and support you as he pants into your neck.

“You feel so good, what was I thinking not fucking you bare this whole time? Oh god… oh fuck…” he stutters as he empties himself inside you.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and his scruff as he catches his breath.

“Who would have thought… responsible Detective Rockford fucking in his office.”

Tim chuckles into your shoulder. “Can’t be responsible all the time.”

You smile and pull his lips to yours for a soft kiss.  “Let’s get out of here.”  You peel your ass off the papers on the desk and turn to survey the crinkled mess you’ve left behind.  “That’s going to be a problem.”

Tim wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “Eh, I’ll just spill some coffee on it, no one will know the difference.”

You laugh, “Tim Rockford, you are just full of surprises.”

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

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – in reblog

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Latina Reader

Summary: Flashbacks creep into your dreams, causing you to wake up in a panic…it’s a good thing Jake is there to calm you. Jake finds out what happened to you, what happened with your ex, and why you’ve been getting paid off.

Content: Flashbacks(kinda gory), torture, anxiety attack, talks of suicide, some swearing, DV, will end on a happy note.

Word count: 4,019

A/N: While I think you can assume this is a middle eastern place that she was taken/sent to, I didn’t label the people for obvious reasons. Please be mindful of this and really put yourself in her shoes. Next chapter will be a lot less traumatic. I promise 💗 (Please do go back and read the other chapters, this won’t make a lot of sense if you don’t. All linked in my Masterlist!)

Chapter 8

“What were you sent here to do?” The man asks. His dark hair and even darker eyes bare into yours, daring you to speak. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, his mouth and nose covered in a mask.

You’d figured out that he was the leader of the terrorist organization whose weapons you were supposed to bomb. You’d been in their custody for a few days, tied to a pole on the ceiling like a slab of meat in a butcher shop.

They did this to weaken you for torture, you knew that. You’d been trained for this.

“Answer me!” The man yells. When you don’t say anything but stare at him, he nods to a man on your left.

This one compared to the leader, was huge—broad shouldered and muscular even under the loose shirt he wore.

The other man smiles, a whip coming into your view. Before you had time to brace yourself, the whip cracks and slams into your skin.

You seethe in pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of screaming in pain.

Except, when the whip is pulled away from your back, a chunk of flesh follows. You let out a blood curdling scream at that.

“All you have to do is tell us who you were working for,” the Leader tells you. “Your Admiral must’ve told you something.”

“I don’t know anything,” you gritted.

He sighs. “Fine.”

And again, you’re whipped.

Over and over again.

So much so, you could feel the blood trail down your spine and legs.

You knew you’d bleed out before they could get anything out of you. You almost begged for it to happen.

After a week of being whipped and beaten by a wooden so badly it broke, you knew you weren’t making it out alive.

Day after day, the same questions.

“Who do you work for?”

“Why are you here?”

“Where’s your back up?”

And each time, you’d give them nothing. An occasional spit in the Leader’s face but that would result in him slapping you, followed by the larger man’s fists.

By the end of that week, they’d send you to a medic who would treat you, let you heal for a week, and then it would start again.

Two months into it, you began losing hope that you’d ever be found.

Two months in, you were still being tied up to the bar in the ceiling. Occasionally you’d be sat down, given food, only for them to turn you upside down and dunked in water. They’d ripped out your nails, cut your skin, burned your healing back.

And still, nothing from you except for an occasional “fuck you”.

By the end of the third month, you’d come to expect the lashings. You’d come to expect the beatings.

But that last day, you were taken to a clean room. A surgical room. Fear riddled your body, beginning to expect the worst. When a doctor walked in with the Leader and his torturer, you were tied to the bed, your pants pulled down your legs.

“You are leaving,” the Leader tells you. “But not before we leave you with a parting gift.”

His eyes crinkle in what you assumed was him smiling. Behind him, the doctor walks up to you and marks your hip with a blue marker.

“Here is safe,” he tells the torturer.

You hear a machine whir behind him and when he moves, you see the torturer holding a hot stamp. A skull and bones symbol red as a chili pepper is being heated by some sort of portable hot stove.

“No,” you say, quietly at first but louder the closer they get to you. “NO!”

They only laugh. The torturer comes close, before whispering, “This will hurt. Do not move.”

You feel the doctor and the Leader hold your legs in place as the hot stamp finally makes contact with your skin.

You scream, blood curdling and raw. You scream until you can no longer breathe, the scent of burning flesh fills the small room. You feel yourself falling in and out of consciousness, but the doctor wakes you up completely with some smelling salts.

They pull your pants back up before untying you and dragging you out of the room and into a garage before putting a hood on your head. They throw you into the back of a truck before laughing and driving you somewhere.

“You’re lucky we didn’t do more than that with your pants down, girl.” The Leader tells you. “Thank your God we didn’t.”

You only sob. You were sure they were going to kill you. But when they stop and pull you out of the truck, you have to blink when they pull the hood off.

You were in an open field. The sun gloriously kissing your skin and grass whistling in the soft breeze.

They push you to your knees before you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Thank your Admiral for us,” is the last thing they say before shooting up in the air.

It was flare. They shot…a flare.

Instantly, you hear the whirring of a helicopter coming from behind a mountain in front of you. Behind you, the truck doors slam before the two men leave you on your knees, bloodied all over your body, and tears running down your face.

You were going to be okay. You were going to be saved.

So then why did the man’s words echo in your mind?

* * *

“Thank your Admiral for us.”

You woke up with a jolt, someone’s hand was holding yours and you had to fight to free yourself from their grip.

You were sweating, panting for fresh air.

It was just a dream. You’re home, safe.

You tried reasoning with yourself but it was no use. You were panicking, and hard.

Beside you on the floor, Jake sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning to you.

“Hey, did you sleep–”

Jake stops talking when he sees the way you hold your chest, face frozen in panic and breathing rapidly. “What happened?”

“They’re here,” you breathe, staring off into space. “They want me back. They’re gonna kill me this time.”

“Hey, hey,” Jake soothes, squatting beside you. “Breathe.”

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” you sputter. “It’s–oh my god–Jake I can’t–”

“You can,” he tells you. “C’mon, Sweetheart. You’ve got this, just like me.”

He brings one of your hands to his chest, the warm surface clothed in cotton, heart beating under your fingertips. “Feel my heart?”

He grabs your other hand and brings it to your chest, your heart pounding against your hand. “Match my heartbeat, Y/N. You can do it.”

You feel yourself slow down, the world around slowing. Jake’s green eye is the only thing you’re focusing on.

“Count with me,” he goes on. “One.”

“O-one.”

“Two.”

“T-two.”

“Three.”

“Three.”

“Four,” Jake smiles.

“Four,” you smile back.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes, thank you.”

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asks, rubbing the hand on his chest with his thumb.

“Yes,” you tell him, feeling yourself fully relaxed. “It was like a movie.”

“How so?”

“I saw what they did to me in a compilation,” you shudder. “I saw every lashing, every cut, everything.”

“Tell me about it.” Jake’s eyes are soft on you, encouraging you to go on.

“I saw them beat me that first week,” you tell him after a few deep breaths. “They had whipped me and beat me with a wooden bat.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with anger before he nodded for you to go on.

“They-they did that for a month. The next month was the same but this time they let me sit instead of being chained to a bar on the ceiling.” You drop the hand on your chest in your lap, squeezing Jake’s hand in yours.

“They pulled my nails out next and cut my back wounds open again,” you went on. Tears form in your eyes again before you tell him, “The last day of the third month, they branded me. Called it a ‘parting gift’.”

He remembered. The skull and crossbones on your hip.

“They told me to be glad I didn’t get…you know, while my pants were down. That I should thank my God.” You were fully sobbing now. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“They told me to thank my Admiral,” you cried.

Jake let go of your hand before wiping the tears that fell with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“That was the only thing I could focus on when the Navy saved me,” you tell him, tears drying. “‘Why would he say that?’, I asked myself. And then it hit me.”

You look up at Jake again before saying, “I think Simpson knew I was going down. Even after I radioed in that I was.”

Jake’s blood runs cold, he wanted to tell you what he knew but wanted you to tell him what you knew first.

“I think that’s why they paid me off,” you continue, tears long gone now. “They must think I know something.”

“Well do you?” he asks, not able to contain the curiosity anymore.

You nod. “I think the weapons they wanted me to bomb were U.S. made and that’s why they sent me to bomb them.”

“Why do it themselves when they can send one pilot to bomb them?” he adds.

“Exactly,” you agree. “That’s why they wouldn’t let Rooster or Phoenix and Bob come with me. They knew I was going down or dying trying to fight my way out.”

“But why keep you for three months?” he asks.

“Who knows why the Navy does what they do,” you sigh. Changing the subject you tell him, “When I got back, I was so broken–physically and emotionally. Maybe that’s what made me an even bigger target to Nick.”

Jake’s spine straightens at his name. “Why’s that?”

“I was a walking target, I had the look of someone who had been through something horrible.” You shake your head and chuckle. “I was so open to wanting someone to show me love and affection, I fell right into his trap.”

You look at him, watching as Jake’s eyes harden before he asks, “What did he do?”

“He was nice,” you start. “At first he was. Asking if I wanted to talk about what happened, then asking if I needed company. He moved in not even two months into knowing him.”

You scoff, remembering how naive you were.

“Rooster hated him the moment I introduced him to him and Nat,” you continued. “He was a lot like you actually.”

“How so?” Jake asks.

“Nice, a ladies man, handsome…” You look away at that last word.

“That’s why you didn’t trust me at first,” he fills in the blanks.

“Yeah.”

“Do you trust me now?” he asks.

You turn to him, a small glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why?” Jake asks. “If I’m the same as him, why do you trust me?”

“You never made a move to kiss me the first few times you were with me,” you whisper.

* * *

Jake only stared.

That motherfucker tried to kiss you the first few times he saw you? He was ready to pummel that fucker into the ground if it meant you would never see him again.

You must’ve seen the anger in his eyes because he shakes it away and swallows it down. “I’m you trust me.”

“I am too,” you tell him. “I’ve never told anyone that, about what I suspected with the Navy and with Nick.”

“I’m glad you finally got it out,” he tells you. “I really am. It’s good that you talk about what happened to you.”

“What about you?” You ask. “Has something like that happened to you?”

Jake shakes his head, remembering his old weapon system officer. “Not me, but my old back seater.”

“What happened?”

He’d told this story twice in his life. Once at court after everything happened and the second time to Lt. Addams’ parents.

“We were sent to bomb some important buildings in Afghanistan,” he starts. “They held all sorts of jets and weapons that could’ve comprised the U.S. military that were stationed there. So they sent Lieutenant Addams and I—that was my partner’s name.”

He smiles to himself.

“He was my best friend,” he continues. “I grew up with him and we joined the Navy together and then eventually flight school and so on.”

He looks up at you, watching as you listen so intently, you’re practically holding your breath.

“Well, we got into a disagreement,” Jake tells you. “He wanted to take things slow and I wanted to speed up, elimisome time from our arrival time.”

He takes a deep but shaky breath before looking away, down at the hands he held in your lap. He takes his time, caressing each of your knuckles, examining the small scars on your right hand. He flips your hands over to see your smooth palms, coated in light sweat.

“I went faster and didn’t anticipate the upcoming turn,” he goes on. “It was too late. I was too late. I should’ve died but I yelled for him to eject and I thought he was coming with me. But he—”

Jake’s breath hitched in his throat as an angry sob trickled up instead. He blows out a few breaths before looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“He didn’t eject in time.”

“Oh Jake,” you start.

“I should’ve listened to him,” he tells you. Then quietly he adds, “It should’ve been me.”

“Jake,” you start.

He feels your hands let go of his and move to his cheeks, you tilt his head up to face you before saying, “You are exactly where you need to be. If you weren’t here, I’d probably still be dealing with Nick. Or worse.”

Jake’s eyes glisten with tears, hearing you say that means so much to him. Being able to definitely say that he was a hero for you, meant that his mistake with Addams was paid back in full.

Because it may not have been Addams, but it was someone else who needed his help the most.

“You’re exactly the person I needed when I least expected,” you go on. “I know it hasn’t been long but I do think of you as a good friend. Thank you, for everything.”

He smiles up at you. This beautiful woman before him was a fighter, and he damn well deserved to be here—even just for her.

A knock on the door startles you both out of the mini staring contest you were in, making Jake turn in the direction of the front door.

He checks his watch which reads 2:45 AM.

“Who could be here so early in the morning?” He asks.

Before you even get to answer, you both hear pounding on the door. Jake feels you freeze, terror paralyzing you into speechlessness.

“Y/N!” He hears Nick yell. “Get your sorry ass out here! We’re going home.”

“How did he find my house?” Jake asks himself.

“He must’ve followed us home after we left Hard Deck.” You answer.

Jake looks at you, taking your hands in his again. “Go into my room, there’s a box under my bed. The code is 07-12-89. There’s a gun in there, just in case you need to use it.”

“What about you?”

Jake looks at you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. He tries to memorize your eyes, the way your lips pull back when you smile. He brushes a strand of your hair back before smiling at you.

“I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

When Nick pounds on the door again, Jake points for you to be quiet and go to his room. You obey, running as quietly and quickly as you can.

Once Jake is sure you’re safe, he calmly walks to the front door, opening it just as Nick was about to pound on it again.

“Can I help you?” Jake asks.

“Yeah,” Nick says, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s in there.”

“Girlfriend?” Jake pretends to think. “Wait, I thought you were single.”

Nick angrily grunts before adding, “No, she’s confused. She’s sick in the head.”

“Well if that’s the case, she’s definitely not here,” Jake smiles. “I only allow sane people in my house.”

“Then let me in to look for her,” Nick drawls.

“No can do, buddy,” Jake says, blocking Nick when he makes a move to enter the house. “See, I don’t know you and you w already tried to kick my ass earlier today—well, yesterday. So that’s a hard no from me.”

Nick frowns in anger, face contorting into something ungodly. “Let me in. I saw her go into the house.”

Jake’s heart was pounding.

Not because he was scared, but because he was furious. Why can’t this guy just get the hint?

“Dude, even if she was here,” Jake starts. “She doesn’t wanna see you. So, take the hint.”

“Who the hell even are you?” Nick asks, pushing Jake back a bit.

“I’m just a guy who doesn’t like the way you’ve been treating Y/N,” Jake states. “And quite frankly, I don’t want you in my property so get the fuck off my porch and go home.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick seethes. “I want her and only her. So get her out here or I’m burning your house to the ground.”

“Those are some strong words for someone who’s worked really hard to become a pilot,” Jake smiles. “Do you really wanna throw that all away for some girl?”

Nick seems to ponder his words, brows furrowing in thought.

“Because that’s what? Two years of your life down the drain? And for what? A girl who doesn’t even want you?” Jake continues. “Is she really worth it all?”

Nick’s eyes focus on something behind him and Jake doesn’t even need to turn around to know who he’s looking at.

“Y/N,” Nick says. “Let’s go.”

Jake turns around to see you standing there, head held high, body squared, and feet planted. You look like the woman you once were, the one he’d seen pictures of in the Top Gun classroom and halls.

Strong and bold. Confidence radiating from your glossy bronzed skin.

You weren’t scared, and you made sure Jake and Nick knew it.

“I’m not leaving with you,” you say firmly.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?” Nick bellows. “You’re coming home with me and we’re gonna talk about…us.”

“No,” you say, pushing past Jake and squaring up to Nick. “You’re going home and I’m staying here. You’re not good for me.”

“What? And he is?”

“Yes,” you say simply, catching Nick off guard. “He’s good for me. He and my friends, the ones you tried to keep me away from.”

Nick scoffs at that, rolling his eyes.

“What do you want? My apartment? You can have it,” you say, tossing your keys at him. “But what you can’t have is me. I’m done, I’ve been done for a long time, Nick. From the first time you put hands on me, to the last time you did. You will not hurt me again. So get off his porch and go home.”

Nick stares at you incredulously—Jake does too. He knew you’d finally had a breakthrough and was prepared to do anything to get Nick out of your life. Even if that meant standing up for yourself and doing the scariest thing you could ever do.

Confront him.

With a swipe at his face, Nick shakes his head before slapping you across the face. Your head turns but your body doesn’t move.

“You made a mistake,” Nick says darkly.

“No,” you say. “You made a mistake.”

You point behind Nick, where two officers, Bradley, and Natasha stand.

“Goodbye, Nick.”

* * *

2 months later

It’s been a fairly good two months. You’d been living with Jake since that night. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your lonely apartment. And besides, you liked living with Jake.

Every morning since that night, Jake has made a point to leave you notes on the fridge, telling you when to expect him home. Granted, you’d be at work. But it’s the thought that counts.

Nick was kicked out of the Navy and served a few months in jail for the assaults he committed in the week before his arrest. You were also granted a permanent protection order against him.

Life was starting to look up.

You’d been hearing nicely, emotionally at least. You even told your therapist everything you told Jake.

The only thing you worried about now was whether or not Jake was going out on a date on weekends.

You hated to admit it, but I fell for him. And hard.

You didn’t want to, but the way he treated you was so different to what you’d ever experienced, you couldn’t help yourself.

But it seemed like Jake went back to his man-whore ways. You’d be at work and glance over to where he and the rest of the group were to see him all over a new girl each week.

You tried not to let it get to you, but it still did.

You figured you’d use this time to heal yourself—better yourself. You’d get to be as great as you could be so that when—and if—Jake wanted you, you’d be ready.

So now, you’d focus on you. Until the time was right.

Because even though it wasn’t meant to be right now, you knew it was meant to be. Otherwise, why would he leave you flowers and notes everyday? No man who wasn’t fawning over a woman would ever do that.

And yeah, there was a little voice in the back of your head that says maybe he’s just trying to be nice…but why do all that?

Either way, you were doing what was best for you. Because you owed it to yourself to do it.

No matter the outcome.

For now, you would go to work, go to your weekly therapy sessions, and smile at the life you get to live.

But that’s exactly what you get to do.

Live.

* * *

Jake’s date for the week smiled up at him as she attempted to seem hotter than she was. He’d brought her to Hard Deck to meet the group but now, he kinda didn’t want her around.

She smelled too sweet, she laughed a little too loud, and she just felt…wrong.

She wasn’t his Bullseye.

Not his. But his.

You’d just brought over a round of beers and were talking to Natasha when your date tapped on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t drink beer. Can I have a white wine?” She says, rudely snapping at you to hurry. “Chop chop.”

Bradley’s eyes widen and he takes a long swig of his wet before looking at Jake with a wild expression.

“Sure,” you say. Jake watches as you take the beer, glancing his way with a dissatisfied expression.

She’s gonna rip me a new one later.

“Why don’t I get it for you?” Jake suggests. “Just in case.”

“Oh, Jakey,” his date says. “That'd be great. But honestly, we can just leave. This place is dingy and old.”

Behind her, Natasha and Bob’s mouths fall open, Coyote and Payback following suit. Bradley only cackles, making his date turn around in annoyance and Bradley turn around to avoid her gaze.

“So Jakey,” Bradley starts. “Are you leaving or are you staying?”

Jake looks at Bradley, then his date, and lastly you at the bar. You were serving Maverick a beer and smiling at something he said.

You were beautiful tonight. Your hair was curled and half tied up in a white bow, a white linen shirt and jeans your uniform for the night.

As if feeling his eyes on you, your turn just in time to catch him smiling at you before he turns to his date.

“You know what,” he starts. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

Bradley smiles. “Good choice.”

Next part

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me. I had a hard time with this chapter mainly because I wanted it to be sensitive but also raw. So thank you for reading it if you read it. And remember that there’s always someone out there that loves you 💗

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[slamdunk-headcanons]

Slam Dunk boys who would tease you to call your attention

Miyagi Ryota

Do it only to make you laugh. So if you start getting really mad, he stops. If he notices you're uncomfortable, he apologizes;

Never uses physical touch to tease you;

Do it in a really polite way, and only when he feels you're in the mood;

Prefers to tease you in a way that he can show off at the same time;

Nobunaga Kiyota

Nobunaga only teases you if you're friends. If you're childhood friend, teasing is the basis of your comunication;

Nobunaga can be such annoying as a young brother, and he'd become even worse if he starts falling in love with you;

He starts to make you mad by teasing you as a defense mechanism, like he's trying to prove to himself that you're not the type of girl he would fall for. "See how horrible she is when she's mad? How would I ever fall for a girl like her? I like the cute ones that are gentle and calm!"

Can use physical touch to tease you, but stops if he starts falling in love, because touching you makes his heart pound;

Mito Yohei

Do it to make you laugh;

Loves to poke your cheeks;

He melts inside when his teasing make you run after him to give him a noogie;

Assumes he's the only guy that can tease you if you're good friends. So he gets really mad if he sees another guy teasing you;

Immediatly stops and apologizes if he feels you're umconfortable with the teasing;

If Mito realizes he's in love with you, his teasing becomes kindda clumsy;

Ookusu Yuji

His teasing is professional;

He doesn't stop until you hit him with a slap on his back or a punch on his head;

Likes to pull your cheeks with his fingers;

Sometimes steals your food during lunch if you're not giving him enough attention or ignoring his teasing;

He does it only if you're good friends;

Only teases you because he's madly in love with you and cannot think of a better way to call your attention because he thinks you're too much for him;

I feel so sorry for the guy that teases you in front of Ookusu

Sawakita Eiji

His teasing is so adorable and childish that is hard to get really mad at him;

Do it to make you laugh, but if you're mad, is a bonus for him;

Because he thinks your mad face is the most adorable thing;

Sudden pokes on your ribs during class and then pretend that nothing happened are his favorite

Only do it if you're friends;

Laugh loud at your energetic reactions;

Sometimes he does it until you run after him in the hallway to hit him with your school bag;

Hates to see other guy teasing you. However, Sawakita knows that he's popular, so he uses only his presence to discourage the guy;

Sendoh Akira

THE TEASING KING™

Sendoh is the most terrifying teaser because he does it and STAYS CALM WITH THAT BUM FACE imagine a guy that can easily break all your composure down in seconds and stay calmly grinning at you that's Sendoh

Sendoh is able to do it even if you're not friends. But to do it, he has to be extremelly interested on you. And if you're not interested in basketaball at all, or if his reputation on Ryonan doesn't make you give him even a bit of attention, prepare yourself, because Sendoh is

STUBBORN, STUBBORN, STUBBORN, STUBBORN LIKE HELL so he won't stop til he gets what he wants

Teases you to test your reactions and he has a lot of fun doing it;

Don't you dare show nervousness around him because is EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTS;

Asks to taste your lunch and doesn't even wait your answer to take something from your bento;

Openly wants to do school activities with you so he'll have more opportunities to tease you;

Doesn't use physical touch to tease you at first, only if you grow closer;

When you're closer enough, he learns to poke you in a way that makes you jump suddenly on your place. And he does it in a way nobody notices him, only your sudden move.

If you ever try to hit him because of something he did to tease you, it's done. He won;

Silently protects you from guys that could be crazy enough like him to tease you;

Masterlist/ Ask box open!

[amethystarachnid]

Please, please, I need to ask you for a part 2 of Snowy Love now... they had a little boy, an exact copy of Tony, and of course, his name is Anthony Edward Stark Jr. 🥰 and just as Tony promised, they are going back to the same place with their baby boy now 🥰 Tony is the best hubs and dad, always so soft and protective... one night, as they observe their beautiful baby boy sleeping so peacefully, Tony will tell her that he wants another one, and they decide to have another baby 🥰 if you want you can spicy things up too, thank you 😘

I love the idea of Tony and reader having a special place like this to go 🥰

SNOWY LOVE - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff, a tiny tiny spicy scene

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ Summary: after your son, Edward, comes in the world your little Alps getaway get more interesting, so interesting that you and Tony decide you wouldn't mind another baby Stark.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of birth, a little spicy scene

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

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The weeks leading up to your due date are a mix of excitement, nerves, and more than a few late-night talks about the baby’s name. You’d both been bouncing ideas around since the second trimester, but nothing had fully clicked for both of you. Then, one evening, Tony hit you with a proposition that he was sure would be a “slam dunk.”

“What if…” Tony begins, giving you his best salesman smile, “we make him a junior?”

You nearly choke on the sip of water you’re drinking. “Junior?”

“Think about it.” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, already envisioning it. “Anthony Edward Stark Junior. Our little legacy. Our kid gets a great name, I get a mini-me, and you get to say, ‘I’m married to Tony Stark Senior.’ Everybody wins.”

You stare at him, trying to process. “Tony, I don’t know… A junior? I feel like it’s setting up some pretty big expectations.”

He tilts his head, giving you a puppy-dog look. “What if we just call him Edward, though? Classic, timeless, elegant… just like his mom.”

You narrow your eyes, both charmed and trying not to roll your eyes. “You’re really playing the flattery angle here.”

Tony grins. “Is it working?”

“Fine,” you sigh with a smirk. “But I’m calling him Edward. You don’t get to sneak in any nicknames like ‘Tiny Tony’ or ‘Starky’ or anything weird, got it?”

He beams. “Deal. Edward it is.”

On the big day, when the contractions start, Tony morphs into a chaotic mix of superhero and headless chicken. The moment you tell him, he’s grabbing his jacket, his tablet, and two power banks (just in case, he insists). He practically hustles you out the door, giving the driver a set of instructions that makes it sound like you’re about to pull off an international heist rather than have a baby.

In the delivery room, Tony is trying his best to be calm and supportive, but his nerves start showing the minute you go into active labor.

“Alright, babe, you’ve got this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Just… breathe! And maybe, uh, try some meditation?”

You give him a look that could melt his Iron Man suit. “Oh, really? Breathe? How insightful. Maybe I should just think calming thoughts while this tiny human makes his dramatic entrance, Tony.”

He swallows, wide-eyed, clearly realizing he’s treading dangerous ground. “Right. Just, you know, ignore me. I’m here. Quietly. Totally quiet.”

But every time a contraction hits, he’s there, full of commentary and ideas, most of which involve technology he wishes he could be using. “You know, I could invent a pressure reducer—some kind of… I don’t know, anti-gravity cradle? That way, all the pressure is off you—”

“Tony!” you gasp between contractions, managing to laugh despite the pain. “Focus, please. No inventions right now.”

Finally, after what feels like hours of huffing, puffing, and a whole range of Tony’s attempts at encouragement (that occasionally backfire), you hear the first cries of your son. The room goes still, and Tony’s hand grips yours a little tighter, his face softening with awe as the doctor holds up your baby boy, all squirmy and red-faced.

You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as they place him on your chest. The little guy blinks up at you, and as you look down, you’re struck by how much he already looks like his dad. From the dark hair to the tiny furrow in his brow, he’s unmistakably Tony’s son.

Tony’s voice breaks the silence, soft and filled with wonder. “Oh, look at him… He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, stroking your finger over his tiny hand. “He really is.”

After a few moments, Tony leans over, whispering so only you and the baby can hear. “Hey, Edward. Welcome to the team, little guy.”

You laugh softly, glancing up at Tony with a smirk. “I suppose we’ll let you keep the ‘Anthony Edward Junior’ for the birth certificate.”

Tony grins, looking a little misty-eyed. “And we’ll call him Edward. Just like we said.”

The baby shifts in your arms, yawning with a seriousness that makes you and Tony both laugh. “Look at that,” Tony says, chuckling, “he’s already judging us. He’s got the Stark stare down.”

“Oh, he’s definitely yours,” you say, tracing his tiny nose. “There’s no denying it.”

As the nurse takes Edward for his check-up, Tony stays close, keeping one eye on the baby and one on you, as if he can’t decide who needs more protection. At one point, Edward lets out a small cry, and Tony practically jumps out of his seat, only to be gently waved back by the nurse.

“Alright, alright, kiddo’s tough,” Tony mutters to himself, trying to act casual. Then, under his breath, he adds, “I’d better teach him about building armor for all life’s tough moments. Soon as he can walk.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Not just yet, Tony.”

“Fine. Maybe in a few years.” He smiles down at you, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “You did amazing, by the way. Both of you.”

Later, as you’re resting in the quiet room, Edward nestled in your arms, Tony sits by your side, his gaze fixed on the little bundle between you. He reaches over, brushing a hand over Edward’s dark hair.

“I have a feeling this little guy’s going to keep us on our toes,” he says, his voice warm with anticipation.

You chuckle. “I think he’s going to be just like his dad. Confident, a little dramatic, always ready for an adventure.”

Tony grins. “Then he’s got some pretty big shoes to fill. But don’t worry, kid.” He leans close to Edward, whispering, “You’ve got a head start. You’ve got the best mom in the world.”

Your heart swells, and you glance over at Tony, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. “And the best dad.”

He reaches for your hand, holding it tight. “Here’s to the new adventure, Mrs. Stark. Alps trips, tiny skis, and all.”

And as Edward settles back down in your arms, his little hand wrapped around Tony’s pinky, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment, this family, for anything in the world.

November brings a fresh blanket of snow over the Alps, and true to his word, Tony whisks you and baby Edward back to the chalet for your first family trip as a trio. But this time, Tony has leveled up his promise a little bit.

“Alright, brace yourself,” he says with a smirk as the three of you arrive at the chalet’s entrance.

“Tony, what did you do?” you ask, eyeing him with playful suspicion.

He opens the door with a flourish. “Meet the new and improved chalet,” he declares as you step inside and notice everything from the original cozy stone walls to the carved wooden beams… looking the exact same as they had before. It’s still the chalet you remember, but now, as you glance around, you notice subtle but elegant upgrades: a sleeker kitchen, plush couches, perfectly arranged warm lighting, and something tells you Tony’s fingerprints are on each and every detail.

“JARVIS?” you call out, testing your theory.

“Yes, Mrs. Stark,” JARVIS replies smoothly, his voice filling the room. “I am here to assist you with anything you need during your stay.”

You look at Tony, arching an eyebrow. “You put JARVIS in the chalet?”

Tony grins. “What’s a chalet without a little Stark-level luxury? Besides, he’s got the heat, lights, baby-monitoring, and full security on lock. Plus, the moment Edward gets fussy, he’s going to give us gentle background white noise. Like having a top-notch babysitter that we don’t have to pay.”

You laugh, holding baby Edward closer to you. “Only you would find a way to make a rustic mountain getaway smart-tech enabled.”

Edward blinks up at the sound of JARVIS, his big brown eyes going wide. Tony leans over, stroking Edward’s tiny head with a grin. “See, kiddo? We’ve got all the comforts of home—just with a better view.”

Of course, while the chalet is all set up and the vacation is planned to perfection, the reality of bringing a seven-month-old to the Alps sets in quickly. For one thing, Edward seems endlessly fascinated with everything in sight—the crackling fire, the pinecone decorations, the view outside—but especially, he loves testing his new babbling skills at full volume whenever you’re trying to enjoy a quiet moment by the fireplace. And when it comes time to bundle him up in his little winter gear for some snow time, things get complicated fast.

Tony holds up the puffy snowsuit, squinting at it like it’s a complex piece of machinery. “Okay, so we just… put him in here? I don’t think he’ll fit. Are you sure this is his size?”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, Tony. Babies’ clothes just tend to look a little oversized. Trust me, he’ll fit.”

After a few minutes of wrestling with the baby-sized marshmallow suit, Edward is all bundled up, looking a little like a tiny, slightly disgruntled snowman, his cheeks poking out from the snug hood.

“Well, look at you!” Tony coos, chuckling as he lifts Edward up. “You’re ready to brave Everest.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Just don’t expect us to climb it anytime soon, okay?”

You take a few steps outside, holding Edward’s tiny mittened hand, and Tony follows with a knowing smile. “Alright, team, it’s time to introduce the little guy to snow. First snowball?” he asks, already forming a little powdery ball.

“Nothing too rough, Stark,” you say with a laugh. But before you know it, Tony tosses a soft, fluffy snowball—more like a gentle powder puff—onto Edward’s lap.

Edward stares at the snowball with a very serious expression, reaching out to poke at it. His face lights up as his tiny mitten sinks into the snow, and he looks up at you, babbling excitedly.

“See?” Tony says, grinning. “Total natural. And he hasn’t even tried sledding yet!”

You and Tony spend the morning showing Edward the snow-covered world, taking him out to a little sled where he sits on your lap, squealing in delight as Tony gently pulls the sled along. Every now and then, he looks up at you with pure joy, and your heart just melts.

Later that evening, after you’ve managed to get Edward fed and snuggled into bed (which was an ordeal in itself, as he spent half the time grabbing at your hair and Tony’s glasses), you sit by the fireplace, wrapped in one of the soft blankets Tony stocked up on. Tony finally joins you after setting up a baby monitor with JARVIS’s help, plopping down on the couch beside you with a tired but satisfied smile.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Well, we survived the first day. Barely.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s different with a baby, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, looking over at the baby monitor and grinning as he sees Edward sleeping peacefully. “But it’s kind of the best thing ever.”

You smile, thinking of all the little moments from the day—Edward’s excitement over the snow, his curious little face peeking out from the snowsuit, the way he’d babbled at the mountains like he was having a full conversation with them. “It really is.”

Tony’s hand drifts to your shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head. “Remember what I promised you? Yearly trips to the Alps, no matter what.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth and the soft crackling of the fire. “And you’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Stark. This chalet is perfect.”

“Well, only the best for you and our little snow adventurer.” He chuckles, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough to really take on the slopes. I’ll teach him everything I know.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh, so he’ll be an expert on the bunny slopes?”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me! I did those bunny slopes with you for safety reasons.”

You grin, nudging him playfully. “Sure, sure.”

For the rest of the night, you both fall into comfortable conversation, talking about your favorite parts of the trip and laughing over Edward’s tiny adventures of the day. And even though there’s a new level of exhaustion that comes with traveling as parents, there’s also a new kind of joy, too—the kind that fills your heart in ways you never could have imagined.

As you settle in beside Tony, his arm around you and the fire casting warm shadows across the room, you feel it—the deep contentment of being right where you’re meant to be. You have each other, a beautiful family, and all the memories waiting to be made on snowy Alps trips just like this one.

The next morning, you and Tony have a grand plan: to get a family photo in the snow with the Alps as a backdrop. You picture a sweet little scene—Edward bundled up, the mountains glistening in the background, and you and Tony looking like that perfect, smiling family on a holiday card. But getting a baby and two semi-coordinated adults to cooperate for a “simple” photo quickly becomes its own comedy of errors.

First, there’s the task of getting Edward back into his snowsuit, which he’s now decided he hates. He’s wiggling, giggling, and pulling at the hood the entire time, giving Tony a run for his money as he tries to zip up the tiny suit.

“Alright, Edward, c’mon,” Tony pleads, one hand struggling with the zipper while Edward bats at his dad’s face with a mittened hand. “Just work with me here, buddy. Think of the memories.”

Edward lets out a little squeal that sounds suspiciously like laughter, and you can’t help but giggle as Tony finally manages to get the zipper all the way up.

“There we go!” Tony cheers, looking immensely proud, like he’s just invented a new suit himself.

With the baby finally bundled, you two tackle the next challenge: finding a spot outside where the snow isn’t too deep. Tony scouts ahead, and with JARVIS chiming in via earpiece to give him topographical tips, you both make your way to the perfect spot, nestled near a tall pine tree with a breathtaking view of the snow-capped Alps in the background.

Tony positions his phone on a nearby rock, sets the timer, and then hurries back to join you and Edward. But as he leans in, trying to hold Edward steady, his hand slips, and suddenly he’s teetering backward, flailing as he tries to catch his balance on the icy snow.

“Oh no—!” you gasp, holding Edward securely as Tony lets out a string of surprised curses and lands straight in a snowbank, his legs flopping over the edge like a giant starfish.

The phone’s camera timer goes off with a cheery click. The result? A perfectly crisp shot of you holding Edward, smiling serenely while Tony lies in the background, half-buried in snow, looking thoroughly betrayed by gravity.

You’re laughing so hard that Edward starts to giggle too, a bubbly little laugh that only makes the whole situation even funnier. Tony sits up, looking bemused but amused, his face pink from the cold. “Okay, that’s… that’s one for the family album.”

You grin, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “It’s a classic already.”

Not one to let the snow get the best of him, Tony gets up with determination, brushing the snow off with dramatic flair. “Alright, no one messes with a Stark like that. We’re getting this shot, and it’s going to be flawless.”

On attempt number two, Tony positions the phone on a steadier surface, checks the snow for any hidden ice, and rejoins you, looping an arm around your shoulder as you all face the camera with bright smiles.

Just as the timer ticks down, Edward reaches up, grabbing Tony’s nose with an impressive grip for a seven-month-old. The photo snaps just as Tony lets out a squawk of surprise, his expression halfway between amusement and “I’ve been captured by my own child.” The result is another photo that, while completely unscripted, somehow captures everything you love about this little family adventure.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Tony laughs, taking a look at the new photo. “Apparently, we’re destined for candid shots only.”

You shrug, kissing Edward’s chubby little cheek. “Maybe that’s even better. We’re a chaotic family, Tony—why pretend otherwise?”

As you all make your way back to the chalet, Tony leans in, whispering, “Just so you know, I’m sending both of those pictures to Happy for our holiday card options. Let him decide which one says ‘Stark Family Adventure’ the best.”

Later, cozy by the fire with Edward dozing in his crib nearby, you and Tony swipe through the day’s photos, laughing over each and every attempt. The best shots—the ones where you’re all genuinely laughing, snow in your hair and mismatched expressions—are far from perfect, but they’re filled with real joy. And as you snuggle close, you know this will be the kind of memory you’ll treasure forever, a perfectly imperfect adventure in the Alps with the people you love most.

Three years later, you’re back at the chalet for your annual Alps getaway, and it’s no surprise that Edward is now an unstoppable force. At three years old, he’s practically a mirror image of Tony—a toddler with boundless energy, unfiltered curiosity, and a confidence level that has you equal parts impressed and on high alert.

“Okay, buddy,” Tony says, crouching down to zip up Edward’s puffy little parka. “Remember the rules for today. One, no climbing any trees. Two, no running past—”

“Got it!” Edward chirps, promptly bouncing up and bolting out the door, his tiny boots pattering across the snow.

You laugh, throwing Tony a knowing look as he sighs. “He’s got the Stark attention span, too,” you say.

Tony smirks. “Only the best traits, right?”

Outside, Edward has already discovered a stick and is poking it into the snow, chattering away to himself like he’s narrating his own discovery channel show. As you watch, he picks up a pine cone and waves it over his head like it’s a prized artifact.

“Look, Daddy!” he calls, holding up the pine cone with immense pride. “I found treasure!”

Tony, trying to keep up with Edward’s imaginative pace, kneels beside him, inspecting the pine cone with all the gravitas of a museum curator. “Ah, yes. A rare alpine pine cone. I’d say that’s worth at least ten points.”

“Ten points!” Edward exclaims, his face lighting up with joy.

You watch the two of them, warmth filling your chest. They’re a perfectly matched pair: Tony, the ever-encouraging, slightly mischievous dad, and Edward, who treats every rock, snowflake, and icicle as if it’s the most magical thing he’s ever seen.

Before long, Tony has convinced Edward that a snowball fight is in order. The two of them square off, and it’s a comical sight—Tony with his practiced aim and Edward with his… well, enthusiastic but chaotic form of defense, which mostly involves flinging snow in every possible direction.

You try to sit back and watch, but before you know it, Edward has roped you in. “Mommy! Help me!” he calls, his tiny face flushed with excitement.

“Oh, you’re going down, Stark!” you call, laughing as you crouch beside Edward, forming snowballs as fast as he can toss them.

Tony’s attempts at pretending to be defeated are the funniest part of it all. He stumbles around dramatically, flinging snow in the air and making ridiculous sound effects every time Edward hits him with a snowball. Edward laughs so hard he nearly tumbles backward, and his laughter is contagious, echoing through the snowy landscape around you.

After an hour of snowy chaos, you all retreat back inside, red-cheeked and chilled but perfectly happy. You wrap Edward in a cozy blanket, and he nestles up beside you on the couch, his head resting against your shoulder, still babbling about his “great snow victory.”

Tony sits on your other side, wrapping an arm around you both. “You think he’s going to be this wild every year?”

You smile, brushing a stray bit of snow out of Edward’s hair. “If he’s anything like you? Definitely.”

Tony laughs, his eyes softening as he looks down at Edward, who’s drifting off in the comfort of your arms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And in that moment, in the warmth of the chalet with your little family bundled together, you can’t imagine a better tradition. The mountains, the snow, and these beautiful, hilarious memories—they’re your family’s own perfect kind of magic.

After a long day of helping a highly enthusiastic but wildly unpredictable Edward navigate the beginner slopes, you and Tony are both thoroughly exhausted. Getting Edward to sleep has been an adventure on its own—he insisted on wearing his snow hat to bed, hugging his newfound pine cone “treasure” like a beloved teddy bear. But at last, he’s tucked under the cozy blankets, his soft snores filling the room as he finally rests.

You and Tony stand in the doorway, watching him with a mix of adoration and relief. Tony wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both gaze at your son.

“Out like a light,” Tony murmurs softly, a trace of awe in his voice. “Gotta hand it to the Alps—only place that can actually wear this little guy out.”

You chuckle, leaning back into his embrace. “Only took skiing lessons, a snowball fight, and an epic bedtime negotiation to get him here.”

Tony smirks. “Can you blame him? Kid knows what he wants.” He drops a light kiss on your shoulder, his voice turning playfully suggestive. “Wonder where he gets that from?”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Pretty sure that’s all you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony pulls you closer, pressing his lips near your ear. “I think you underestimate just how… persuasive you can be, Mrs. Stark.”

You laugh softly, feeling the blush rise in your cheeks as Tony’s hands slip around your waist. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He feigns innocence. “Just stating the facts. And for the record, I’m pretty persuasive too. I mean, look at this kid.” He nods toward Edward’s sleeping form. “That’s a whole collaboration project right there. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face. But then, as you glance back at Edward, all tucked up in his little cocoon of blankets, the thought slips out of you before you can catch it: “I wouldn’t mind adding to the… collection.”

Tony goes still, and you feel his arms tighten around you, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Oh, really?”

You blush, nudging him with your elbow, but you don’t deny it. “Maybe…”

“Maybe, she says,” he murmurs, amusement dancing in his tone as he steps back, just enough to turn you around and face him. His eyes are sparkling with a familiar mischief, and you know exactly where this is going. “Well, Mrs. Stark, I don’t believe in wasting time.”

Without another word, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall to your room with a determined grin. He pauses only to nudge the door shut with his foot and click the lock, just in case Edward decides to wander in on his way to a midnight snack.

The next morning, you both shuffle into the kitchen, happily disheveled but somewhat groggy after last night’s, uh, activities. Tony pours you both coffee while you tackle the task of assembling breakfast for the family, the scent of coffee filling the chalet. Just as you finish plating the pancakes, you hear the pitter-patter of small feet racing down the hall.

Edward appears in the doorway, all tousled bedhead and wide, curious eyes. He grins, hopping up into his chair with more energy than either of you can muster, and starts digging into his breakfast.

“Did you sleep well, buddy?” you ask, trying to keep the knowing smile off your face as Tony gives you a wink over his coffee mug.

“Yeah, I did,” Edward says, then tilts his head in thought. “Except for the weird noises.”

Your fork pauses mid-air. Tony freezes, eyebrows raising slightly as he trades a look with you.

“Oh? What kind of noises, honey?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and innocent.

Edward scrunches his face, deep in toddler-level contemplation. “I dunno… kind of like ‘thump thump’ and then like… a squeaky sound?” He shrugs, perfectly unaware of the red hue creeping up both your faces. “I thought it was maybe animals outside. Like a bear!”

Tony chokes a little on his coffee, quickly composing himself as he nods, very seriously. “You know what? That’s exactly what it was. Just some… mountain animals. Bears, probably. Or… squirrels. Could’ve been squirrels too, I’d bet.”

Edward looks skeptical. “Squirrels? Squirrels go ‘squeak squeak’?”

You nod, putting on your best parental poker face. “Oh, absolutely. These Alps squirrels are, uh, very vocal.”

“And super fast,” Tony adds, trying to keep a straight face. “They must’ve just been scurrying around outside.”

Satisfied with this explanation, Edward returns to his breakfast, the mystery solved in his mind. But Tony can’t help himself—he sneaks a hand over, giving your knee a quick squeeze and winking at you over his mug, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips as he whispers, “Squirrels, huh?”

You bite back a laugh, nudging him with your foot under the table. “Keep it up, Stark, and you’ll be explaining squirrel noises for years to come.”

And as Edward chatters away about his plans for another day of snowy adventures, you and Tony share a quiet smile, thinking about how this mountain hideaway has become even more special to your family—memories made in the snow, and, apparently, memories made with a little help from the “squirrels.”

It’s a crisp spring afternoon in New York, and you’re back at Stark Tower, watching Edward chase his toy cars around the living room with endless energy. You can’t help smiling as he zooms his favorite red race car across the floor, making all the appropriate “vroom” noises, blissfully unaware that his whole world is about to change. You’ve just returned from the doctor, and the news you have to share with Tony feels like a small, joyful secret waiting to burst.

After waiting for the right moment all afternoon, you find Tony tinkering in his workshop. He’s bent over some project, half of his attention on JARVIS narrating stock reports, but as soon as he sees you standing in the doorway, he brightens up and sets down his tools.

“Hey, gorgeous. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirks, reaching for your hand and pulling you close.

“Well, I thought you might want a break,” you say, feeling the excitement bubble in your chest. “I actually have… some pretty big news.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow arches, his interest clearly piqued as he looks at you with that familiar Stark sparkle. “Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out. “Tony, I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, there’s only silence as he processes what you’ve said. And then his face lights up with a joy so pure it makes your heart swell.

“You’re serious?” he whispers, almost as if he can’t believe it.

You nod, your smile growing wider. “We’re having another baby, Tony.”

His response is immediate; he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close, and you feel the warmth of his kiss on your forehead as he lets out a small, breathless laugh. “Another baby… wow. I’m gonna have two little Starks running around?” He pulls back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his gaze soft and a little awed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Well, thank you,” you laugh. “But this is all teamwork.”

“Oh, believe me,” he says, his expression growing playfully mischievous, “I remember the teamwork.”

You give him a light smack on the chest, rolling your eyes. “Focus, Stark. We have another little person to tell the news to, remember?”

Tony’s eyes widen, glancing toward the hallway where Edward’s little voice can be heard playing. “Oh, you mean the future big brother. How do you think he’ll take it?”

“Honestly?” You shrug. “No idea. But I think he’ll be excited… once he gets past any confusion.”

Tony grins, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of telling Edward. “Let’s do it.”

You both head to the living room, where Edward is still entirely focused on his toy car, making it zoom up the arm of the couch and fly through the air before landing it perfectly on the carpet. At three and a half years old, he’s the spitting image of his father: curious, energetic, and already a little charmer. When he sees you and Tony approaching, he stops mid-vroom, looking up with big, curious eyes.

“Hey, big guy,” Tony says, crouching down to Edward’s level. “Mommy and I have some special news for you.”

Edward’s eyes light up with interest. “News?”

You smile, sitting down next to him. “Yes, honey. You’re going to be a big brother.”

Edward’s little face scrunches up in confusion. “Big… brother?”

“Yes,” you say, glancing at Tony for support. “That means Mommy has a baby in her belly, and when it’s ready, you’ll have a little brother or sister.”

Edward’s eyes widen even more, and he stares at your stomach, looking half-confused, half-impressed. “Mommy ate a baby?”

Tony immediately bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too. You shake your head, gently taking Edward’s little hand and placing it on your belly. “No, honey, Mommy didn’t eat a baby. The baby is growing in here. And in a few months, you’re going to have a little sibling.”

Edward’s hand stays on your belly, his face absolutely serious as he contemplates this information. “So… the baby is just there?” He presses a bit, as if expecting to feel something.

Tony chimes in, his voice warm. “Yep. Just there, buddy. Growing a little more every day.”

Edward’s face slowly shifts from confusion to excitement, his smile growing as he processes what it means. “I’m going to have a baby to play with?”

“Exactly,” you say, brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re going to be a big brother. And that means you get to help take care of the baby, teach them new things, and, when they’re big enough, play together.”

Edward’s grin is so wide now that it practically glows. “I’m gonna be a big brother!” He pauses, squinting up at Tony. “Like… like how Daddy is in charge of everyone?”

Tony grins, clearly enjoying this line of thought. “Well, not exactly. You’ll be a big brother, which means you’ll get to show the baby how to do all the fun stuff, like building towers and—”

“And playing cars!” Edward finishes with enthusiasm. “I’m gonna teach them everything!”

You exchange a tender smile with Tony, watching as Edward begins to babble on about all the things he’ll show his little sibling, his excitement growing with each idea. You can see Tony’s eyes soften as he watches Edward, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Edward scrambles off the couch and stands right in front of your belly, crossing his arms with determination. “Baby, you have to come out soon so I can show you everything, okay?”

You chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’ll be a few more months, sweetheart, but the baby will hear you.”

Edward nods seriously, placing both hands on your stomach as if he’s already the most devoted big brother. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be here to teach you all the important stuff.”

Tony chuckles, pulling you close with an arm around your shoulder. “I think this baby has a pretty awesome big brother waiting for them.”

Edward looks up at both of you, his face filled with pure, innocent excitement. “Is the baby going to look like me?”

“Maybe!” you say, smiling at his curiosity. “Or maybe the baby will look like Daddy.”

“Or you!” Tony adds, squeezing your shoulder. “But one thing’s for sure, they’re going to be very lucky to have you as their big brother.”

Edward beams, his eyes bright with pride. Then he suddenly looks thoughtful. “Does that mean I get to be in charge of them? Like when they don’t want to play?”

You and Tony share a glance, stifling laughter. “Well, being a big brother means you’re a helper,” you say. “And that means being patient and kind.”

Edward thinks about this, nodding slowly. “I can do that,” he says seriously. “I’m going to be the best big brother ever.”

With that, he dashes back to his toy cars, already chatting to them about his new sibling as if they, too, need to know the news. You and Tony watch him with affection, sharing a moment of pure contentment.

“Not bad, huh?” Tony murmurs, his hand slipping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Not bad at all,” you reply, leaning into him. “I think he’s going to be amazing.”

Tony chuckles, his gaze softening as he watches Edward play. “You know, if he’s anything like me, that baby is going to have a lot of excitement to look forward to.”

“Let’s just hope they balance each other out,” you laugh. “Otherwise, I think I’ll have my hands full.”

Tony gives you a teasing smile. “I think you already do, Mrs. Stark.”

The snow has blanketed the Italian Alps in a serene white hush, and you can’t help but smile as you look out the chalet window, feeling at peace even with the slight ache in your lower back. You’re nine months pregnant, and the baby could come any day now, but you wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world—not when it’s become such a special tradition for your family. You’d made sure Tony understood that before you left. Despite his protests, he finally agreed. But only under the condition that you’d “take it easy” and let him handle absolutely everything.

The chalet has become even more luxurious, thanks to Tony’s constant upgrades and “adjustments.” And though it’s outfitted with everything you could possibly need, from a medical suite to Jarvis-powered heating control, Tony is still on edge. You feel his watchful gaze follow you even as you wander just a few steps around the cozy living room. Even more surprising, Edward seems just as watchful, hovering nearby with a little furrowed brow that mimics his father’s.

“Mama, you need more water?” he asks for the third time in an hour, holding up a glass in his little mittened hand, though he looks a bit wobbly carrying it.

You smile, reaching down to take it. “Thank you, sweetie. You know, I think I’m good for now.”

He looks relieved, climbing up onto the couch beside you and cuddling into your side, immediately leaning down to put his face near your belly. It’s become his favorite spot, his “sister perch,” as he calls it. “Hi, baby Mia,” he whispers, his breath tickling your belly. “I got Mama water like you need. But you gotta wait a little bit, okay? ‘Cause you’re supposed to come after Christmas.”

You giggle, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “I think she’s listening, Eddie.”

Tony walks in from the kitchen with his own cup of coffee and grins, watching the two of you with unmistakable fondness. He’s got his eye on Edward, who’s started this protective routine almost as if on cue. You’ve noticed that ever since you arrived, Edward has been watching you with extra concern, following you room to room with a serious expression that makes him look adorably like a miniature version of Tony.

“Keeping an eye on Mama, huh?” Tony asks, dropping into the armchair beside you. He catches Edward’s eye and gives him a wink, which Edward dutifully returns with a nod.

“Daddy said I gotta be extra good and make sure you and Mia are okay,” Edward explains seriously, his hand now gently patting your belly. “Because if she comes early, it’s up to me to keep you safe too.”

You glance over at Tony, arching a brow. “So, you’ve enlisted a tiny helper?”

Tony smirks, leaning back in his chair with a mock-casual expression. “Well, let’s just say I figured another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone as stubborn as you, Mrs. Stark, insisting on a nine-month-pregnant trip to the Alps.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh. “Oh, so now I’m the stubborn one?”

He just grins, leaning forward to gently place his hand beside Edward’s, rubbing soothing circles across your belly. “Mia, just for the record, we’d prefer it if you’d wait a little longer to make your debut, okay? Let’s give Mommy a couple more quiet nights.”

Edward chimes in, “Yeah, you stay in there, Mia!” He lowers his voice to a loud whisper, as though she might be eavesdropping. “Daddy says it’s cozy and warm in there.”

Watching Tony and Edward both focused so intently on you and the baby makes you feel an overwhelming rush of affection. Tony may be playfully aloof at times, but you know how protective he is, and seeing Edward’s instinct to care for you just as much—it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

Over the next few days, their vigilance only increases. Edward insists on helping with every little task, from picking up anything you drop to insisting you don’t leave the couch without him.

One afternoon, you’re sitting near the fire, Tony stretched out beside you with Edward nestled between you both. Edward has his hand on your belly, his little face serious as he leans over, “talking” to Mia about all the things he’ll show her once she’s born. You glance over at Tony, who’s pretending to read a book but has a smile on his face, clearly listening in.

“Yeah, and I’ll show you the big mountain,” Edward whispers to your belly. “And all the squirrels! But you gotta wait a little ‘cause you’re too tiny now.”

“Big brother’s got it all figured out, huh?” you murmur, looking over at Tony.

Tony gives a soft laugh. “He’s thorough, what can I say?”

When evening falls, you sit with Tony as Edward helps him prepare dinner in the kitchen. Tony’s pretending not to notice that Edward is sneaking more carrot slices than he’s putting in the salad, and you’re listening to their banter with a smile. Just as Tony finishes the final stir, he glances over at you, his eyes brightening.

“Alright, gorgeous, dinner’s served.” He and Edward bring everything over to the table, setting it up with an odd mix of finesse and excitement. Edward clambers into his chair, looking proudly at the setup.

As you all dig in, Edward turns to you, as serious as ever. “Mama, do you think Mia can eat with us next year?”

You chuckle, nodding. “I think she’ll be joining us for a lot of meals, honey. And you can help show her how everything works.”

“I’m good at showing stuff,” Edward says, sounding very grown-up. He stabs his fork into his food, then pauses to look at you. “Mommy, is Mia gonna need to wait for food like me?”

“Maybe at first,” you say, glancing at Tony as you add, “But she’ll have a big brother who can teach her all about snacks.”

Tony nods seriously, reaching over to give Edward a high-five. “That’s right, buddy. You’ll have to show her all the important stuff—especially the snacks.”

Edward beams, looking very pleased with himself. Dinner continues in this cozy, easy rhythm, filled with little jokes and laughter, until you find yourself feeling so relaxed you almost forget how close you are to your due date.

Late that night, after Edward is tucked in, you and Tony settle into bed, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, his hand resting instinctively on your belly. You sigh, leaning into his warmth, grateful for the peace and quiet.

“Think she’s getting cozy in there?” Tony murmurs, rubbing small circles on your belly.

“She seems content,” you whisper back, smiling. “But then again, so am I.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as Tony presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re going to have two little ones soon.”

You chuckle. “And you doubted our Alps trip.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, better safe than sorry. If I had my way, we’d be back in New York near the best hospital in the state.”

“Relax,” you say, lacing your fingers through his. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

And as you lie there, cradled in Tony’s arms with the baby softly moving beneath your hand, you feel a deep, calm certainty—no matter where you are, as long as your family is by your side, everything will be exactly as it should be.

The evening is peaceful as you sit by the fireplace in the chalet, warming up after a full day spent playing in the snow. Tony’s got an arm around your shoulders, holding you close, while Edward is curled up on the rug in front of you, arranging his toys with focused concentration. You’re enjoying the rare calm, your hand resting on your belly, feeling the little nudges and kicks that Mia has made her daily ritual.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp, intense pressure low in your abdomen—a sensation that makes you gasp, your hand gripping Tony’s arm on instinct.

“Hey, you okay?” Tony looks at you, his brow furrowing in concern. Edward glances up too, his toy race car frozen mid-drive as he watches you with wide eyes.

“Um… I think…” Another wave hits you, stronger this time, making you tense. You can’t help but wince as a rush of pain makes it clear exactly what’s happening. “Tony, I think it’s time.”

“Time? Time for—oh!” Tony’s face goes through a series of rapid changes, from confusion to realization to full-blown panic. “Time! Okay, okay. That’s fine. We knew this was coming. I’ve got this.” But his eyes are wide, and his hands are already shaking as he reaches for his phone, practically tossing it out of his pocket in his haste.

Edward’s face scrunches up with worry. “Mama, are you okay? Is Mia coming now?”

You manage a reassuring smile for him, though it’s strained. “Yes, sweetheart. Mia’s on her way.”

Edward’s little mouth forms a perfect “O” as he stands there, frozen with his toy car clutched in his hand. “But she’s not supposed to come yet!” He looks to Tony for confirmation, a touch of panic in his voice. “Daddy, she’s coming early!”

“Uh, yeah, she sure is, buddy,” Tony mutters, trying to steady himself as he dials for the hospital. But when the call goes unanswered, he swears softly under his breath, his face paling. “Right. Nearest hospital it is. I’ve got this. Totally got this. Y/N, do you need a bag? Should I carry you?”

You laugh—well, as much as you can while clutching your belly. “Tony, just help me to the car. And grab the bag we packed in the bedroom. It’s all set.”

He nods, snapping into action as he wraps an arm around you, helping you up as gently as he can. Edward trails closely, his eyes fixed on you, looking like he’s ready to burst into tears. “Mama, is it going to hurt a lot?”

You nod, managing a comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Eddie. But yes, sometimes it does hurt a bit.”

With a nod, he straightens up, puffing out his little chest as if he’s trying to be brave for you. “I’ll protect you, Mama,” he says with a firmness that makes Tony’s mouth twitch, though he’s too frantic to fully appreciate the cuteness of it.

Tony helps you out to the car, keeping an arm firmly around you while Edward scrambles into his seat in the back, buckling himself with serious focus. He’s quiet as he watches Tony settle you in, his gaze darting between the two of you.

“Okay, everyone’s in. We’re good. We’re going to the hospital,” Tony announces, gripping the wheel and peeling out of the driveway with more speed than finesse.

The drive is quiet, save for Tony’s constant mutterings and reassurances. “Almost there, babe. Hang on. We’ve got this.”

Edward, still wide-eyed and silent, keeps glancing from Tony to you, his little hands clasped in his lap. Finally, he leans forward and says softly, “Daddy, is Mia going to come soon?”

Tony gives him a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. “Pretty soon, buddy. But she’s going to be just fine, and so is Mommy.”

A few minutes later, the hospital comes into view. Tony whips into the parking lot, barely managing to park the car before he’s jumping out, rushing around to help you. The nurses spot the three of you, and within moments, you’re whisked into the maternity ward with Tony by your side, Edward clinging tightly to his other hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Tony looks at Edward, his expression softening. “Okay, Eddie, I think it’s time for you to hang out with the nurses while we bring Mia into the world, alright?”

Edward’s eyes are filled with worry as he looks up at you, his little brow furrowed. “Are you sure, Daddy? Maybe I should help.”

You reach out and give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling through the pain. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

Reluctantly, he nods and lets go, and a nurse leads him to the waiting room, promising him hot chocolate. Once he’s settled, you let yourself focus fully on the task at hand, breathing deeply as another wave of contractions hits.

Hours later, as dawn breaks over the mountains, you’re finally holding a tiny, pink-cheeked bundle in your arms. Mia is here, and she’s perfect, with soft wisps of dark hair and the tiniest little nose. Tony looks at her with an expression you haven’t seen before, a mixture of awe, wonder, and pure love.

“She’s… wow,” he murmurs, his voice choked. He reaches out, his finger stroking her soft cheek. “She’s here. She’s finally here.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as you watch him. “She is. And she’s beautiful.”

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse steps in with Edward, who’s clutching a small, stuffed bear that he insists is for Mia. He’s a little hesitant, staring at the tiny bundle in your arms with wide, curious eyes.

“Eddie, come meet your sister,” Tony says, beckoning him over with a soft smile.

Edward steps forward slowly, his eyes fixed on Mia with fascination. He gently sets the bear down beside her and looks up at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really her?”

“Yes, sweetie,” you murmur, shifting Mia just enough so Edward can see her more clearly. “This is Mia. Your baby sister.”

Edward’s face lights up as he takes it in. He reaches out tentatively, gently touching her tiny hand. “Hi, Mia. I’m your big brother,” he whispers, looking awed. Then he glances up at you and Tony, his voice growing more confident. “I’ll take care of you, Mia. Just like I promised.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling Edward’s hair. “That’s right, bud. You’re the best big brother she could ask for.”

Once you’re back at the chalet, it’s as if the whole place is holding its breath for Mia. Even the snowfall outside seems to have softened, the sky a soft pink and blue haze as the sun rises over the Alps. Tony helps you get settled on the couch, Mia tucked warmly in your arms. Edward is right beside you, eyes wide and sparkling as he stares at his sister, still in awe of the tiny new family member.

“Mommy, can I…?” He trails off, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

Tony clears his throat, immediately stepping in. “Can you what, buddy?”

Edward meets Tony’s gaze with a bold determination. “Can I hold her?”

Tony opens his mouth, looking unsure. It’s clear he’s struggling, torn between letting Edward’s eager big-brother heart grow and the sheer terror of seeing his three-year-old son anywhere near such a delicate little bundle. You give Tony’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then smile softly at Edward.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. We’ll help you,” you say, and Tony shoots you a look that is part admiration and part mild panic.

With care and precision that would make any parent proud, you and Tony arrange Edward on the large bed, surrounding him with a fortress of pillows. He sits cross-legged, his little hands clasped in his lap, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Alright, Edward, remember—very, very gentle,” Tony instructs, his voice a little shaky as he settles Mia in Edward’s lap. The look on his face says he’s ready to leap in at any second.

Edward nods with the utmost sincerity, keeping his hands steady as he holds Mia, his tiny fingers brushing over her soft blanket. He gazes down at her with awe, and Mia, as if she already knows her brother, blinks up at him, her eyes round and calm.

“Hi, Mia,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent. “It’s me, Edward. I’m your big brother.”

Tony, standing a mere inch away, watches like a hawk, his eyes locked on Edward’s every move. If there were any way for him to be closer without actually holding Mia himself, he’d probably do it. You catch him clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly debating if he should interfere, even though Edward is doing perfectly well.

You chuckle softly, nudging Tony’s shoulder. “Breathe. He’s got this.”

“Breathe?” Tony whispers back, glancing at you like you’ve suggested he let Edward juggle china plates. “Babe, our son is three. Mia’s barely a week old. This is like… a recipe for chaos.”

“But look,” you murmur, smiling as you take in the sight before you.

Edward leans down slightly, his face inches from Mia’s, his little voice filled with wonder. “You’re so small, Mia. But I’ll help you get big. Just like me.”

You feel your heart melt, watching your son speak to Mia with the wisdom and warmth of someone far beyond his years. Mia, sensing something special, gives a little yawn, her face scrunching up before she settles comfortably in Edward’s lap.

Tony’s shoulders ease just a fraction, and he shakes his head with a small smile. “Alright, you’re right. He’s got this.”

After a few moments, Edward looks up at Tony with a mix of pride and excitement. “Daddy, she’s not crying!”

Tony laughs, reaching out to ruffle Edward’s hair. “She’s not crying because she likes you, buddy. You’re already doing an amazing job.”

Edward beams, sitting up a little taller. “Yeah, I think she does like me. I’ve been practicing, Daddy. With my teddy bear, remember?”

Tony chuckles, nodding. “All that practice paid off, didn’t it?”

Satisfied that Edward has everything under control, you settle back, letting yourself enjoy this peaceful moment. It’s incredible to see Tony’s eyes soften with such pride as he watches Edward. When Mia stretches a tiny hand and accidentally grabs one of Edward’s fingers, Edward lets out a little squeak of excitement.

“She’s so strong!” he says, looking up at Tony. “Look, Daddy! She’s already holding my finger!”

Tony’s grin widens, and he’s now fully invested, crouching beside the bed to get a better look. “She’s a Stark, all right. Strong from day one.”

You share a knowing smile with Tony. Somehow, it feels like the chalet, with its vintage wood and cozy, fire-lit rooms, has truly become your family’s haven. This yearly trip has become more than just a tradition—it’s a ritual of love and connection, a reminder of the life you and Tony have built together.

When Edward finally looks up, he gives Mia one last gentle hug before releasing her back into your arms. “Mommy, can I hold her again tomorrow?”

You smile, nodding. “Of course, Eddie. She’ll need all the big-brother cuddles she can get.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin, hugging his knees to his chest, his excitement making his little feet wiggle.

Later, when Edward’s sound asleep and Mia is curled up beside you, Tony wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The fire crackles softly, casting a warm glow around the room, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“So, another perfect day?” he murmurs.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “Perfect in every way.”

I love family man Tony so much you guys can't even understand

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Yuliya's Gacha of Love Masterlist

This is the Masterlist for my 300 followers event, featuring the characters from Twisted Wonderland. These contain x Reader stories, with the Reader having no pronouns (unless stated otherwise in the story description!) ♡

Will be updated as requests are posted!

The Dunk Tank (Floyd Leech + Carnival Date)

Just a Touch (Jamil Viper + Longing)

Once More, With Love (Deuce Spade + Reunion)

Winter Warmth (Jamil Viper + Winter Date)

Bittersweet (Jamil Viper + Bittersweet)

A Heart Full of Flowers (Jack Howl + Flowers)

A Moment of Your Time (Kalim Al-Asim + Longing)

Watered Down Feelings (Jack Howl + Longing)

Ice Skating (Cater Diamond + Winter Date)

Slam Dunk (Floyd Leech + Club Activities)

A Date with Who!? (Jamil Viper + Jealousy ft. Tsums)

By Your Side, Always (Ace Trappola + Longing)

Tsum Admirer (Rook Hunt + Jealousy ft. Tsums)

The Beat of My Heart (Kalim Al-Asim + Club Activities)

Petals of Rain (Rook Hunt + Wedding)

A Tea Party to Remember (Riddle Rosehearts + Proposal)

[yaut-jaknowit]

To Break Apart

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader x Vic'tao (Male Yautja)

Warnings: Warnings: Self-harm, depression, heavy emotions, hurt/comfort, fluff, comfort after an anxiety attack.

Word Count: 4925 (Remember when I said I would write less than 2000... welp)

Summary: Your partners are hunters, skilled hunters. Which leads to them going on their hunting trips together and leaving you on their ship. Alone. By yourself. Sad. Despite thinking you could do this, just get through it. You're an introvert, this is fine. No, everything wasn't fine. You break apart.

Author Note: Angst, heavy angst guys. I'm warning you guys. The next few I have planned are also angst. Don't know why but I did choose those.

Masterlist

Ao3

Everything can happen in a snap of fingers. Losing someone close. Break ups. Friendships ending. All those can occur in a second. And there’s nothing you can do. Nothing to stop it from happening.

Everything was ripped away when you joined them. It was reckless, stupid! How could you do that?! Now alone in the expansive universe, on a space ship. Those two… aliens, that you love – loved? off, away, gone on a hunt. They left you alone! How could they?! Alone on their ship. Alone to your thoughts. Alone with nothing for comfort.

Tears ran rivers down your cheeks. They were never ending, never stopping. You curled up tighter. It was dark. Nothing to be seen. Your memories foggy on how you got here. Cramped, tight, the walls pushing into your sides. Despite hating small places, the comfort it offered helped. Not by much, but helped you from spiraling too far down the hole you’ve fallen in.

Vic’tao and Uihoy keep their ship warm. Yet, your body was trembling, shaking worse than a leaf in a storm. As if your freezing. It felt like you were dunked underneath ice cold water. All alone to deal with this feeling. I choked on a sob.

Pain raced up your right arm. Your wide eyes snapped down. Blood seeped from scratch marks. Huh, I… Underneath the nails on your other hand was blood and skin. You shoved your injured limb between your thighs which were drawn up to your chest. You cried out, the sound echoing back at you lonely. Your eyes squeezed shut to stop the shed of tears. More just fell.

.

The ramp lowered. Vic’tao was the first to take a step towards the entrance… Some heavy hit him. Not physical. A smell, pungent scent filled Vic’tao’s refectory sensors. He tensed up, eyes narrowing before snapping to Uihoy next to him. A horrified look on his partner’s features. Their gazes met, a silent conversation quickly spoke.

Both Yautjas were up and into the ship within a second. Blood. They smelled blood. Mixed with your scent. Their feet thundered on the metal floors of their ship, each racing to find you. Vic’tao and Uihoy’s senses were locked in and searched for you.

Uihoy slid to a stop at the entrance of their trophy room. A glorious array of skulls on display, something he promptly ignored. Vic back pedaled to follow the purple Yautja. Uie sped into the room without an regard to his partner following him.

Sounds, sobbing, whimpering. The scent of blood was thick in the air, uncomfortably so. Even as hunter, one that’s used to be bathed in it, this made his scales crawl with a terrible feeling. His pink tongue flicked out to taste the air and detected the direction of it. He was moving before his mind knew what was happening. His tongue led him towards the origin of the smell.

He stopped at a closed-door panel. Behind him, Vic skidded to a halt right on his heel. Vic scent the blood and their ooman’s odor the strongest. He heard quivering breathes. Uihoy slammed a fist on the door. It popped open. Uie grasped the door and nearly ripped it off the hinges.

There you sat. Blood and tears coating part of your skin they could see. Uihoy was down on his old knees within a second, hands coming to pull you free.

When your eyes snapped up to met his own blazing gaze, Uihoy paused before slowly retracting his limbs back to his body. Calmly. He had to do this calmly. You were in a fragile state, mentally. He’s read about this from ooman internet. Thankfully so.

His head turned to peek at Vic’tao kneeling next to him. His own irises pinned on their distressed partner. Uihoy knew Vic was struggling to hold back, to keep from yanking them free and squeezing them close. Anything to make sure they were okay. That nothing serious was physically wrong. Vic can fix that part… when it comes to emotions, the Yautja comes up short. So, in the moment, he forced himself taunt and waited.

But, the sight of blood had Uihoy antsy to hold you, to soothe you, to tell you everything was okay. His arms shook, one resting over his bent knee. His palm on the other limb grasped at his muscular thighs. Sharp nail threatening to slice through thick hide.

Vic’tao held unsteadily in his spot. Much to his dismay.

For Uihoy, the purple Yautja inched a hand in your trembling direction. Those wide, tear filled eyes zeroed on the limb. Yet, you didn’t make a sound or move that alerted him not to. So, Uihoy continued every so slightly.

Minutes go by sluggishly. It took forever for that limb to make contact with you. You did not move, eyes locked onto him hand. Uihoy quietly sighed, mandibles twitching in thought. He used that hand to softly touch your chin and tip it up. This forced your eyes to snap to his alien face. More tears fell, rolling down your cheeks like hills before dropping off the cliff of your jawline.

He watched, so closely, so intensely. He observed all that swirled in your big eyes to figure out what he can do next. Uihoy brought up a leg, foot flat on the ground and pushed himself forward. The movement didn’t have affect on you. Good. Then, the next leg. This pushed him to be buddied up with the cabinet. Not that he minded, not at all.

Uihoy ducked his head to bring it close to your face, close enough to see the texture of his irises. With an upper mandible, he barely skimmed your cheek and wiped away a stray tear. In his language, he chittered to you with calming words, softly spoken.

Just by your face, he could read that you did not want to speak. As for himself, his ooman words wouldn’t help. He didn’t have a full grasp of English yet, not like Vic’tao.

Instead, Uihoy raised his free limb and brought it to your cheek, holding you in place. Words failed him. He didn’t know what to speak. He didn’t want to question what had happened. All that he could read right now was you were in an unstable state. The ship had not been attacked, meaning you were safe. That lead him to think this was internal. Something had happened with your thoughts.

His short mandibles wiggled in thought. Uihoy finally moved his limbs to scoop you out of the cabinet and into his hold. The moment you were free from the small space, your tiny arms encircled his neck. Your teary, flushed face buried into the crook of his neck. Uihoy held strong, firm limbs coming to wrap tightly around you. You were theirs.

Once you were out and in his arms, he rolled back to sit on floor with his butt. His legs curling up to keep you pressed firmly to him. It was his silent way of saying you were safe with him, with them.

Vic’tao came into the picture. The young, lethal Yautja moved behind you, in front of his Yautja partner. His blazing eyes found Uihoy’s and chitter lowly to him. “Can I touch?” Uihoy watched the younger male for a few breaths before nodding his smaller head. The yellow and blue male took a lungful of air in and closed in.

Hands, calloused from hundreds of years of hunting and vigorous training touched your fragile skin. A palm cupped the side of your chin. His other hand snaked between your body and Uihoy’s to press at your heart. It was fluttering fast, quick, loud in their ears. Like it was on the verge of breaking from your ribcage. He was the first to start up a deafening purr as if that’ll draw you out of your thoughts.

Next came Uihoy with a strong, more grumbly purr that sent vibrations throughout your body. His form squeezed you, as if to send a reminder.

Two massive, heavy, thickly corded bodies surrounded your much smaller body. Like two wolves protecting their mate. Vic’tao had rested his head on your stomach. Your legs were over his torso as he rested on his side. Though, Vic had a strong hold with your thigh.

As for Uihoy, he firmly kept his head on your chest, hidden ear pressed to your heart. Despite you being a lot tinier than them with their huge dome heads, they somehow fit on your torso together. Uihoy was wrapped around your upper body. An arm thrown over your torso, curling underneath. Then the rest of him was trying its best to keep contact with you. Your head was to his chest/midriff area. His other hand held yours, fingers slotted between yours.

After what felt like hours, your hoarse voice broke the quiet air. “I miss home.” The words were barely audible with how rough you spoke.

The two tensed. Uihoy held your hand tighter. Both of their thoughts were going absolutely haywire. One question that plagued their mind: does this mean you wanted to leave them?

Uihoy swallowed his pride. “Are ooman wanting home?” It hurt his old heart to ask such a thing. You were the best thing to ever happen to them. Such a precious, sweet, comforting being that warm their hearts at the sight of you.

An itchy silent fell over the group. Not even the ship dared to creak in its older age.

You swallowed thickly, the sound loud. Uihoy felt it. “N-no… I don’t, don’t know. My family…” What are they thinking? Are they worried about you, where you’ve gone? Have they even heard the news? It’s been almost a year since you’ve left earth to be with Vic’tao and Uihoy. “I miss them.”

No one else spoke. They let you have the moment to vent, to speak your mind in the safety of their bedroom. Even yourself decided to let the silent take over. Your thoughts running amuck inside of your muddled mind. It was hard to decipher what any of it meant.

Life was confusing right now. You were at the stern of it but had no clue what direction you were heading. No one warned you of what space life was like. You were starstruck with the idea of being out space. Out here, away from the worries of life.

That sounded perfect, didn’t it? No one could tell you that being out in space, with only two other people to talk with, wasn’t easy. Humans are social creatures. That you’ve heard countless times. No matter how introverted you were, humans needed someone to speak with.

Your mates, your partners, they had to leave at times. Days at a time, maybe weeks to hunt. They left you alone to your thoughts with nothing but yourself. How could a social creature live that way?

Each Yautja had their ears tuned strictly on you, waiting for you take lead, to speak of your troubles. Unlike the vicious species they are known to be, they were patient and kind to let you lead. Uihoy squeezed his hand. The touch pulled you free from dangerous thoughts.

“You keep leaving me.” There, it was said. “You keep going on your hunts, leaving me beh-ind.”

It wasn’t just your family that plagued you. Many things were building up to this moment, it was only a matter of time until the eruption happened.

Each Yautja tensed, thick muscles coiled tightly as if ready to spring. Uihoy couldn’t believe what you said. His heart seemed to stall in its thunderous cycle of pumping his neon green blood. The roaring purr that filled his chest stuttered to a stop as he stared up at you from his spot on your chest. No… no, no, no. A pathetic, pained whine sounded from him. You weren’t looking at him, just staring off at the ceiling.

Vic’tao felt a bitter anger rising in him before a raging guilt filled his veins the very second afterwards. Worse of all, the anger was directed at you with a question: how could you think that way with all they’ve done for you?! But the ask was swiftly killed and discarded like trash. Vic scooted somehow closer to you, trapping you against himself and Uihoy. No room for escape. You were theirs.

“Why do you feel this? We don’t leave you behind. We go and hunt for you, to bring back trophies and meat. To feed our mate. Is it not enough?” Vic’tao fired off. A trickle of leftover rage filled his words by accident before he destroyed it completely. He sat up to look over Uihoy and find your teary eyes. The hold on your leg stayed despite the change of position for himself.

Your gaze refused to meet him until he moved closer to lean over Uihoy. “I hate being alone. I don’t know when you’ll come back, if you’ll come back. I’ve lost… I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. Even when I left my own planet to live with you guys, I left a couple of people behind. And what happens if you two die? I get left behind! Always…” you cried, words gaining volume and force. Your nails were biting into Uihoy’s hand but he ignored it. Not like it hurt anyhow.

The yellow Yautja was at a lost. He did not understand… these feelings. It’s not the way he raised or the experienced he lived through. Instead, he used a knee to nudge against Uihoy. It was his turn to butt in and take Vic’tao’s place. Vic’tao had to hold down the new rage that raced to life when you insulted him, saying he’ll die. You said it like he would go down easily. That he wasn’t a strong, capable hunter.

Uihoy let the air in his big lungs to escape with one rush. “Little hunter….” If only you could understand Yautja easily. “Vic and Uihoy will not leave ooman. Little ooman Vic and Uihoy’s. Not loose Vic or Uihoy. Ooman will not get left behind.” It strained his vocal cords to speak the dialect but he did. Then, he leaned up to rest on an elbow and bowed his head. His brow touched yours, softly rubbing against you, like a cat. “You are ours. We will not leave you behind, ever,” his words now spoken in Yautja, a language you have yet to pick up. One day.

This time, an idea came to Vic’tao. The two of them have been training you, slowly but surely. “How about this… on hunts we deem safe for you to join, we’ll let you come with us?” Vic offered a peaceful term. “But only if its safe for you. We will not purposely endanger your life.”

Your thoughts stuttered to stop before being filled with his offer. To join them. To be like them. A minute smile passed over your features. Your body softened once more. “I would like that.” Just something to bring your trio closer to each other, your family stronger.

The two of them started to purr with content again. Both aliens returned to their spots originally, everything cleared.

“Anything else you need to speak about?” Vic’tao questioned, voice sent vibrations up your leg that he was still holding onto.

After a heavy mood, you changed it up to be more relaxed and playful. “Actually, yeah. Can you stop watching me bathe, it’s not normal. Every time.” Vic’tao grumbled that ended in a huff. The hold on your leg tightened.

“I’m just trying to protect you, my mate,” is his reason. Well… “You wear too much; you hide too much of your skin from us.” That to. You snorted airily and shook your head. God, these two.

Living with aliens had its ups and downs, ones no one could ever warn you about. It was all a learning experience.

Warnings: Lip chewing (self harm)

Relationships have its up and downs. They can go sideways. Very, very quickly. As for yourself, you’re not very experienced with relationships. Let alone, two partners. That didn’t even scratch the surface they’re aliens, a predatory race that has hunted your kind before. It wasn’t that that disturbed your sleep or make your skin crawl.

In all honesty and to the end, you loved them. It took time to get use to their different personalities, looks, and the way they act. Completely different from the humans you’ve dated in the past. Skulls and bones were given instead of roses or jewelry. You were confused on why they would give them to you. You just thought they were being nice and friendly about your hobbies, including collecting things from the ground. Their little scavenger. A collector of things.

Before long, you had fallen for them naturally. Soon, it was everyday you wanted to see them. It wasn’t always possible to do that, hunting and all. Plus, they had to keep you a secret, specially in the beginning. Or else someone would be more than happy to challenge their claim before you were comfortable with them. The dangers of that had them fretting and tense. That’s a story for another time.

Today, the boys were out hunting. They stated it would take about four turns of this planet’s sun to return to you. The days were around twenty-eight hours here. Close to how Yautja Prime works.

The first day was never this hard. You didn’t rise out of bed until the need to pee was strong enough to rouse you. Even then, you just returned back to bed. The pelts they have collected over time covered your frame. Warm but it didn’t bring comfort. Their scent was present, it layered your skin. It didn’t calmed your wired nerves.

While in bed, you chewed horribly at your lip to the point it began to bleed multiple times. The taste didn’t disturb you. The blankets were pulled closer to your body, as if trying to reimagine what Vic’tao or Uihoy’s arms felt around you. Yet, it wasn’t the same.

Tears sprung up in your eyes.

On the second day of their hunt, nothing had changed. The pelts stayed blanketed over your frame. Only a small hold for you to breath out of. At this point, your stomach snarled for food, anything of nutrition. A headache rose from the lack of water. That was the only reason you got up and lumber into the kitchen.

A water bottle full of water was carried back to the bedroom. Your arms seemed to shake. From what? You had no true answer. You collapsed back into the concave space as your bed. A blanket was brought to our face. With a deep breath, you sucked in a lung full of the boys’ scent. The shaking were starved away.

As you laid there, your bottom lip wobbled. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. The shaking started up again.

Weirdly enough, your brain couldn’t make up its mind. Confused and overwhelmed with strange, conflicting emotions, you cried until falling asleep again. The dreams weren’t safe either.

Another day passed to arrive at the final one. The last one where they would be returning. Nothing food wise had been consumed this entire time. You stayed trembling like a leaf. A horrible feeling sat in your sternum, pressing against your heart and lungs. You quivered and sobbed.

Home. You wanted to go home. Out here, alone. It wasn’t the life you signed up for. At first, the beginning month wasn’t so bad. Living in a confined space was hard with two extra bodies in the mix. Though you loved them with all of your heart, you were struggling now. And they were out there, hunting. They weren’t helping you, not holding you in their arms and whispering it’s going to be okay. The hunt. The hunt. The hunt.

Why weren’t you important enough to have them stay with you? You sobbed brokenly at that horrible thought. It struck you deep in your sore, bruised heart. ‘Not important’. Nothing to them. Your cries grew in pitch, shaking your whole body with them. It hurt, deep and striking. You clenched your teeth together to try and quiet the pathetic sounds you were making.

“I wanna go home,” those words barely audible but Vic’tao and Uihoy heard them the moment they entered their ship. Uihoy’s head perked up, locks slapping against his purple and green skin. Those bright eyes met his partner’s next to him. Then they heard the cries of pain and sorrow echoing through out the ship.

They acted the very next second without hesitation. It was two bulls stampeding through the halls to the origin of the sounds. Their feet pounding loudly on the metal floors. Vic’tao turned first and slid slightly to the side. Uihoy did the same. His frame heavier than his partner’s. He knocked into Vic before darting in the new direction. Vic, right on his tail.

The shared bedroom stunk of sorrow and salt. Vic’s upper mandibles scrunched up as the smell assaulted his scenes once the door slid back to reveal their room. Nothing much had changed with the way it looked. Movement caught his bright eyes. The bed. Covered with pelts and blankets mixed together. A form moved underneath the pile. You. Their little human. His shoulders sagged at the relief to know you were okay. No scent of blood…

But why where your eyes leaking.

Before the yellow and blue Yautja had time to move towards you, Uihoy was already in motion. The purple hunter knelt down in the concave oval shape of their bed. Your scent was thick, extremely thick. A hand reached out towards the blankets and began to pull at them.

Something tugged at your blankets covering your trembling form. A yelp pierced the air as you held on the fabrics even tighter that your joints ached.

“Little Hunter?” It felt as if the fogged and white noise that filled your ears was spilt. Your shaking halted harshly. The voice all too familiar. You ripped off of the blankets, which took you a moment to find where the ends were. Hope in your eyes shined brightly as you breeched the surface.

There in all their glory stood Vic’tao and Uihoy. You sobbed with relief and rushed them. Both of your shaking arms wrapped around Uihoy as he was the closest. Your face buried into the crook of Uihoy’s neck. The Yautja was stunned for a moment and knelt there for a moment before embracing you fully. A heady purr vibrating his chest against yours. A soothing touch as it rolled over your skin. But you just sobbed into his skin, wetting it with salty tears.

Even Uihoy was frozen on what to do with you; and he’s the more affecticate one between the two. For the time being, he just held you in his strong, sturdy arms. Vic’tao knelt behind Uihoy and peered over his partner’s shoulder to look down at their tiny, trembling ooman. The yellow and blue Yautja softly reached and brushed away a tear. “What’s wrong, little ooman?” he said in a hushed, grumbling voice.

Your nails were digging into the purple scales but gave no pain to the owner. He didn’t even react, let alone feel any discomfort. Uie placed a massive hand on your back and softly stroked the length of your spine. The action helped with calming your breathing to a normal range.

The lump in your throat was swallowed with difficulty. You didn’t move. “I miss, I miss home,” you finally uttered barely above a hoarse breath.

World shattering. Vic’tao and Uihoy’s muscles locked tight. For once, they feared what the future held for them. ‘Home?’ You wanted to go home? Was… was this not your home? Were they not your home? But they couldn’t let you leave, even if you wanted to. Their clan’s honor code… they would have to follow it or be deemed a bad blood.

“Little Hunter…” Uihoy trailed off as he tried to find the right words. What was he going to do? What could he do to convince you not to leave? “Do Little Hunter want go home?” His voice was almost too rumbling to understand. Your arms tightened around Uihoy’s neck. Did you?

“I-I don’t know.”

Neither Yautja knew if that calmed them or worried them even more. How could you not know? You had to choose… or else. Vic’tao sighed before standing up and began to pace. An idea came to mind quickly. “What can we do to rectify this? What can we do to make you stay?” The last thing either of them wanted to do would be forced to kill you. The oomans could not know of their existence, including you.

Once more, your muscles tensed, mind racing for something to help with the situation. But fatigue was running it’s course and winning. You continued to keep your face hidden away, not even letting Vic’tao to see you. How could he see you in this pathetic state? You couldn’t let that happen.

Vic’tao mandibles twitched as he paced and thought deeply. He truly didn’t know what to do. A growl vibrated his throat and he stopped in his place. What was he supposed to do? This wasn’t a field he was familiar with. Then, he acted. He knelt next to Uihoy and faced him. His calloused hands slithered between Uihoy and you then cupped your cheeks. With his new hold on you, Vic picked up your head and forced you to look at him. His bright, fierce eyes pierced yours. “What do you need?” his voice firm and stern, the only way he knows.

You swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. Your cheeks were soaked with salty tears. A hiccup interrupted you before you had the chance to speak. “For you to stay,” I sobbed and attempted to pull away. But, Vic softly dug his claws into the back of your jaw.

“Stay? What do mean?” Uihoy questioned, hand still rubbed at your back. “Uihoy and Vic are here for Little Hunter. Always.” The purple Yautja pulled back enough to look you in the eye. With the two of them staring into your teary eyes made you want to further curl up into a ball and hide away from them. Neither of them let that happen. “Can tell anything. Won’t judge.”

You hiccupped once more and used a hand to wipe away at your soaked cheeks. They were starting to dry and make your skin feel horrible. Vic finally pulled away enough to let you clean up. “I-I,” you can do this, “I can’t stand when you guys leave.”

Uihoy tensed underneath you. Their hunts. It hurts you when they go on a hunt, mentally. His brows furrowed in deep thought.

On the other hand, Vic’tao’s head snapped back and he stared at you. He believed this was something that was covered when the duo became a trio. He thought you understood and was fine. Why the change? “Why do you feel this way now? You were fine when we told you.”

His partner whipped his head to glare at him, tresses accidentally slapping you in the face. Ow. Uihoy snapped at him in Yautja, a language you’ve barely begun to even understand simple things. But you knew it was something harsh from how stern his voice was. Vic’tao sighed afterwards and released his hands on you. “Apologizes, ooman.” He stood up to his full height as his mind mulled over solutions.

“How about we teach you to hunt?” A solution. One he may regret knowing that ooman’s aren’t that great about instincts. But if it’s with you, it won’t be so bad.

This caught your attention, head perking up to find his bright eyes on you. Always watching, always vigilant. “You would do that?” you whispered, voice hoarse.

Uihoy grunted. “That’s a good idea. Like it. Would love to see Little Hunter hunt alongside Uihoy and Vic.” His strong arms loosened up to pull you back and sit more in his lap. He could see the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.

“Is that even a good idea? I’m not… very good at hunting.” I shied away from their eyes and put my head on Uihoy’s thick chest to keep hiding away.

The purple Yautja purred deeply rubbed at your head, messing up your hair. “Uihoy and Vic will be teaching ooman. Safe and sound. Become great hunter at side.” That eased up your worried emotions. You smiled, even though they couldn’t see it, and wiped away the rest of your tears. Your cheeks stained with dry, sticky tears.

“Thanks,” you whispered, voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

From there, Uihoy carried you to the connected bathroom. The bath was swiftly filled. During that time, Uihoy sat on the edge of the in ground bath and held you. That’s all you could ask for. Vic’tao went out and grabbed needed water and a couple snacks for you. Instructions provided by Uihoy on what to do. The poor, younger Yautja was still clueless on human emotions, something Uihoy studied before allowing a relationship to even bloom.

Once the bath was filled, Uihoy slowly shed you of your clothing and helped you into the bath. For however long, the two showered you in the love you deserved. Water was sipped on. Food was consumed. Shampoo was lathered over your body. Everything needed to show you how much they cared for you.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

For the song fic event!

Dancing with Your Ghost (Sasha Alex Sloan) with YOU KNOW WHO—Gojo Satoru, of course!—angst/mcd?

I don't really do x reader stuff, but I thought this was a cool idea so I figured why not? 😊✨️

WC: 1.1k

CW: jjk chapter 236 spoilers, mcd, angst, hurt/no comfort, grief, unhealthy coping

Note: aww, thank you so much for sending one in!! this hurt, but omg did i get in my feels writing it. so excited to be posting the first fic for this event!!

listen to this song while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

It was past midnight, well into the wee hours of the morning when you woke with a start. Reaching over, you patted the other side of the bed searching for something that would never be there. Instead of the warm body you expected, you made contact with smooth, cool sheets, the surprise jolting you back into reality. 

Remembering that no one was there, you rolled out of bed suddenly unable to bear being in it alone. Sliding your feet into slippers and wrapping a robe around your body you head to the kitchen, the soft sound of your slippers against the hardwood the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment.

Part of you wondered if it would always be like this. If you would spend the rest of your life always searching for something that wasn’t with you. Another part of you knew that you would.

Baby, why'd you go away? I'm still your girl

Knowing you weren’t going to go back to sleep you sighed and put the kettle on for some tea. As you waited for the water to boil you wrapped your arms around yourself and leaned back against the counter. The silence filling your apartment was deafening and the stillness made you uneasy. 

Taking a deep breath you sat down at the counter, staring into space as you allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts. You don’t know how long you sat there before the shill whistle of the kettle knocked you out of your stupor. You jumped a little, the sound startling you. Moving to stand, it was only then you noticed you were crying. Your fingers reached up and brushed your cheek, and you examined the drops of water on them a little mystified. Deciding that only sleeping four hours in the last week was finally getting to you, you dried your face and turned the stove off. 

Opening the pantry to grab a tea bag, an expired box of kikufuku mochi caught your eye. Inevitably, your thoughts were drawn to him, and a fresh wave of grief hit you. Frantically, you fumbled with the box, hurriedly extracting a tea bag and slamming the pantry door shut a little too violently. The handle of the ceramic mug was cool in your hand as you dunked your tea bag and moved to sit on your couch.

You sank into the soft cushions, unable to stop yourself from grabbing your phone and opening your text chain with him. Despite knowing it was unhealthy, you often found yourself rereading the messages you sent to him that fateful night he hadn’t returned home. The messages get increasingly more panicked with each one, ending with a final “I hope it was painless. I hope you know how much I love you. I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

Never got the chance to say a last goodbye. 

I gotta move on, but it hurts to try.

Swallowing a sob you shut your phone off and hurl it across the room. You need to move on. You know that. Never leaving your house, pushing your friends away, not sleeping, obsessing over the past, you knew it wasn’t good for you.

Day after day, voicemails and texts poured in from concerned friends and family telling you that you were self-destructing. That this wasn’t what he would have wanted for you. That he would have wanted you to move on. To live.

You know that. You know. But knowing and being able to were two very different things. How were you supposed to move on when everything reminds you of him? When you can’t sleep without his warmth.

Aside from that, your faith in others has been permanently shattered. He had promised you that he would always come back, that he would win. And you had believed him because he was the strongest. And if you couldn’t believe him then who could you? But then he had gone and left you far behind. No. You could never open your heart again. You can’t trust anyone to not leave you like he did.

How do I love? How do I love again?

How do I trust? How do I trust again?

But you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. Even if the loneliness made it impossible to sleep. Even if his absence wrapped around your throat cutting off your air. You were okay. You didn’t need anyone else. You had your home filled with his belongings and you had yourself. That’s all that mattered.

I stay up all night, tell myself I’m alright

At least that’s what you told yourself. In reality every reminder of him was like a stab to the heart. And maybe you were a masochist because you refused to remove the traces of him from your apartment. Sitting on the sofa you could still see him dancing around the coffee table, hear his laughter fill the air. And sometimes when you closed his eyes and inhaled his scent that still lingered in the air it was like he was still next to you, his voice ringing in your ears.

Baby you’re just harder to see than most

Suddenly the silence in the living room was suffocating. Without the joy and love that used to reside in it, the room felt oppressive. Retrieving your phone from where you had flung it you hastily, you connected to your apartment’s bluetooth and clicked play on the first playlist that popped up in your feed. Some of the stress left your body when a soft dreamy song began to seep from the walls, only to return when you realized what playlist you had accidentally put on. 

Of course you accidentally played the playlist he made for you for your two year anniversary. The playlist of all the songs that reminded him of you. Going to change the playlist you froze when you accidentally hit skip and heard the song that began playing.

It was your song. The song you used to listen to together on quiet evenings. The song that the two of you slow danced to in this very living room. The song you knew all the lyrics to. Slowly, you put your phone down, leaning back and closing your eyes as the music swept over you.

I put the record on, wait ‘til I hear our song

And with the song on repeat, you sat there until the first light of day struck your face, the ghost of Gojo Satoru slow dancing around you. 

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

[je-sus-callsmedaddy]

Rafe Cameron fic recs 2

~reblog when updated~

*=smut | !=angst | +=fluff

Outer Banks Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 1

please come in the water +(*) by @rafescokewhore

the storm * by @rafeandonlyrafe

desperate measures (!)* by ^

those three words * by ^

sleepover * by ^

god knows i tried *(+) by @rafecameroninterlude

honeymoon masterlist by ^

blurb (!) by @erwinsvow

blurb (!) by ^

Rafe and shy!reader by ^

blurb by ^

blurb by ^

blurb by ^

blurb by ^

blurb / part 2 by ^

you look so sweet by ^

love it when you hate me * by @valeskafics

love bites * by ^

slam dunk * by ^

NSFW alphabet * by @maybankcore

sad kind of jealous (!) by @daintcas

never lose me *(!) by @princessbrunette

blurb * by @unangelic-thoughts