#so it feels a little nerve wracking to share but

[loovser]

the guy she was interested in wasn’t a guy at all - chapter 3

synopsis turns out the cute guy from the cd store is actually… a girl.

wc: 4,2k

cw: ellie is a total loser omg i need her, fluff, get rid of miller already ellie is better, overthinking, these bitches are gay asf, slow burn, flirting and um.. angst. also fuck you lila!!!!

the strawberries were now completely gone. they were sweet, so sweet you barely registered eating the whole thing in less than 30 minutes. but that also may be due to the fact that you were… busy in the meantime.

you were making a playlist. for ellie. well, miller — we’ve been through that already. you just really appreciated her gesture of giving you your favorite fruit. that’s all! it’s not like you are actually falling for her or something. cause that would be crazy! right…?

shaking your thoughts away, you look through the playlist again. there were a lot of songs she mentioned she liked. some that you thought she would like. this is kinda nerve-wracking. you wanted it to be the perfect thing for her to listen to anytime. and all the time.

because she was consuming your mind all the damn time. you kept thinking about the day you spent together. the tension that was always there, almost too much to bear. it could snap at any moment, really. you haven’t even known her for a week yet — technically you’ve been sharing classes with her for 4 months now, but who’s counting?

she is. because you are all she can think about as well. everything about you is just perfect for her. she is mesmerized by everything you do. everything you say. the way your hair frames your face so prettily. the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about the things you like. the way your cheeks get slightly pink when she flirts with you.

it’s almost infuriating how much you affect her without realizing. and it makes her sick to her stomach when she thinks about telling you the truth. the truth that is now running away from her and from you, more and more, as you get tangled on each other. she can’t stop feeling like shit whenever you are not around. physically, because mentally?

you are always there.

she sighs, still thinking about the message you sent her once you opened the gift.

you (7:45) omg. you’re actually the fucking best.

that was hours ago. three hours ago and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. she literally kicked her feet and giggled when she read it the first time. im actually the fucking loser. she should be asleep. first thing she has tomorrow morning at school?

VFX class. why the hell do they have to schedule this class twice during the week? yes, there are a lot of complicated and extensive things to be taught… and it was one of her favorite classes… but just thinking about seeing you again and not being able to talk to you was killing her.

she wonders how much more she can handle without totally blowing this all up. without making a mistake or saying the wrong thing and making you find out about the truth. her phone buzzing takes her out of her thoughts.

it’s a message from you. her heart races.

you (11:52) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pcARou6l7BtoiGSlAfjEp?si=OAzV49VjS46eY88uJWG_xw&pi=j9HJeil2TTmH7

she made me a playlist?! ellie nearly drops her phone. she clicks it. it reads ‘for miller’. there’s a picture of a starry night. the description says ‘yes, that’s my window.’ you took the picture for it? of a sky full of stars?

she sighs, trying to contain herself. you just keep getting sweeter. she keeps on drowning in you, losing herself in the vastness of you that lives in her mind — and in her heart. seeing that, somehow, you associated her with stars made her nerdy brain short-circuit.

if there’s something ellie loves more than music, it’s the space. and everything that’s in it. from galaxies, to planets, to stars. it fascinates her. ever since she was little she has been in love with it. she dreamed of being an astronaut, traveling through celestial bodies. it’s not really how it works, she knows that now.

but it will always be a part of her. a big one. something she could talk about for hours, days even. and you managed to see it in her, somehow. you, without realizing, put both of her biggest passions in the same place. something that you made for her. the three things she’s always thinking about: music, astronomy and you.

she tried not to read too much into it. it was hard. she was trying to decypher all the lyrics, wondering if you meant something else from some of the songs. maybe she was going crazy. what should she answer? there wasn’t enough words to tell you how much she loved it.

she knew exactly what would, though. so she made you a playlist too. but she didn’t send you, not yet. she wanted to see your reaction, your face, when she sends you the link. guess this will have to wait till tomorrow.

in the darkness of her childhood bedroom, she falls asleep. between her sick habit and savage starlight posters, the solitude she doesn’t have in her college dorm, and in the loud beats of the playlist you made her, she finds peace. hoping she won’t have sleep paralysis from listening to these songs until she sleeps.

you plop down on your seat. the classroom is still empty, there’s just you and a few people seating on the front rows. apparently, miller left you on read. you wanted to just not care about it cause maybe he just fell asleep? or he was busy?

but you do, already thinking of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened. was it too much? did you overstep? you see someone approaching the seat next to yours. looking up, you see her. ellie.

you haven’t seen her since last friday, when she was kind enough to get your earbud for you. there is something about her that makes you nervous. your gaze meets hers and you smile softly at her.

she almost panicks. she smiles back at you but she’s sure she must look ridiculous, trying hard not to blush or look flustered in your presence. it looks more like a flat smile. but you find it cute anyway.

now what’s up with that? why do i find her cute? you nearly groan in frustration. lately things are… weird. you don’t even know anymore what you are into or not. it’s been consuming you, all this miller and ellie situation. there’s no denying that you are attracted to both of them. but that’s all. surely!

and why does it matter, anyway? just let things happen. thinking like this eases your anxieties a little and you relax in your seat. you check your phone. it’s 8:06 a.m. class is getting full.

taking advantage of the fact that you are on your phone, ellie quickly opens her chat with you and sends you the link of the playlist she made you, shoving her phone back on her bag right away.

she bites down a smile when she hears your gasp.

you can’t believe it. that’s what took him so long to reply? you smile widely, opening it. the title is your name. simple, but it says a lot. there are lots of sick habit. ‘i was made for loving you’ by kiss catches your attention. not as much as ‘wonderwall’ by oasis. you don’t want to make assumptions, but some songs really… speak for themselves.

as you are immersed into the playlist, ellie keeps watching you. she tries to be smooth with it but some students almost laugh at how she’s straight staring at you. the way you can’t stop smiling is enough for her to not give a fuck if anyone sees her like this right now.

but Mr. Barbosa arrives, forcing her — and you, unfortunately — to finally pay attention to class. you steal a few glances at ellie, as time passes. she looks pretty today, too. wearing a forest green long sleeved shirt and skinny jeans. how does she look so good in those?

then, you remember the paper you have yet to finish. turns out it will be part of a bigger project, so you didn’t really have to turn it in last week. but you have to find a partner for it and it can’t be your friends, since they are also majoring in film.

without thinking too much about it, you turn to ellie.

“hey, um… are you doing that project with someone already?”

for a moment, she thought she was dreaming. hearing your voice again, so close to her. your eyes on her. shit, gotta answer.

“no. not yet, are you?” she tries her best to seem nonchalant about it and not act like her heart is about to explode. even if it is.

“no, i was thinking… maybe we could do it together?”

ellie blinks. it hits her like a train. the way you asked it so sweetly, almost like you were shy. she is sure she’s blushing now. this gay shit is so hard. she exhales, lips slightly parted as she manages to get the words out “yeah, sure. cool.”

you chuckle, finding her cute. again. the flat words that came out of her mouth almost too quickly, her pink-tinted cheeks. the way her freckles look when she blushes and how her green eyes widened a bit when you asked her to be your partner.

ellie forces herself to look away from you when you chuckle. or she would drool. her arm accidentally pushes her savage starlight comic to the floor, next to you, which catched your attention.

it happens so fast. when you lean down and touch it, she does it too, at the same time. her fingers brush against yours as you reach for it together. you look up and she is already looking at you. you’ve never been so close to her before. am i stuck in a sapphic tumblr fanfiction or what?

you grab the comic, clearing your throat as you hand it to her. “oh, isn’t it that space comic thing?”

she composes herself, getting it from your hand, murmuring a ��thank you’. she looks at it, preparing herself to be called a nerd and whatever you might think of people who read these stuff. “yeah, um, it’s really cool.”

“i bet it is… i read one, once. there was this dr. daniela something? she’s badass” you point out.

“dr. daniela star?” she asks, dumbfounded “she is one of my favorite characters!”

“you have great taste then” you chuckle at her enthusiasm and she smiles.

“oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” did i say that out loud? you always make her feel so comfortable to be herself that she doesn’t realize what is actually coming out of her mouth.

“you could show me, then.” ellie’s not even sure what you are talking about anymore. her brain’s half-melted from the sound of your voice alone. “while we do the project, i would like to hear more about it.”

oh, righttttt. savage starlight. she nods, grinning. “just let me know if i get too carried away.”

you chuckle “i don’t think i would mind. but sure! when are you free to meet up and start it?”

“i’m free after class. i think my roomate won’t be around, so, if it’s okay with you, we can do it there.”

“sounds good, ellie” you smile. and she nearly passes out at her name leaving your lips. “can you give me your number? so we can talk about the details”

shit. shitshitshit. “umm… my number?” she chuckles, nervously. you nod, unaware that you already have it. “i d-don’t have it” she blurts out.

“you don’t have… a phone?” you frown, confused.

oh god kill me now. “yeah! i mean- no! i mean, i do, i just broke it so… it’s broken! very broken.”

“oh… makes sense now” you laugh.

it echoes in her head over and over. what a beautiful sound.

“yeah… but you can go there, like, around 3? i’ll be waiting for you.“

“sure! i’ll be there.”

she smiles at yours words. “great. my dorm’s number is 333.”

tidying up her part of the room was hard. not that she wasn’t organized… well that’s actually the case. don’t get her wrong: ellie hates dirty things. she’s very clean. but when it comes to organizing? it gets messy.

there were a lot of comics spread on her desk, her bed… even one lost in the bathroom. her action figures? everywhere. her roomate, lila, would complain about it all the time. but really, what wouldn’t she complain about?

there were even some papers on the other bed that she just throw into her roomie’s drawer, making sure to put everything in its place. she also made sure that things were clean.

she put the dirty clothes basket into the closet, just to make sure you wouldn’t see it and organized her shelves full of books, comics and action figures.

and you? well, there you are. dorm 333. at 3 p.m. you take a deep breath, watching the wooden door, like it’s going to knock on itself. you don’t even know why you are so nervous. you are just going to start your project. relax, damn.

taking a deep breath, you knock. from the other side of the door, ellie murmurs a rushed ‘shit’ and tries to compose herself. when she opens it, you take in her figure. her auburn mullet is half up, she is wearing a black tight long sleeved top and grey sweatpants. minecraft socks on her feet.

she looks so good you have to stop yourself from staring and looking like a creep. her toned arms can be noticed due to the tight fabric of the shirt, hugging them perfectly, and you feel dizzy. gladly, you snap out of it “hi! nice socks”

ellie laughs, cheeks blushing slightly. crap, i forgot those were on. “yeah, well, i am very stylish. as you can see.” she gives you some space, gesturing for you to come in.

“of course. you gotta remember me when you become the it girl on new york’s fashion week.” you tease.

she scoffs, playfully. like i could ever forget about you. you just stare at each other for a second and she rubs the back of her neck, nervous. “i’d lose my mind with all that attention.”

like she’s almost doing right now, alone with you. your attention is all on her. “you don’t like attention, huh?” you chuckle, looking around her dorm.

it’s so easy to say which half is hers. the wall is full of posters, from nirvana to savage starlight ones. her bed is kind of messy, the fuzzy spider-man blanket all wrinkled.

“depends on who’s attention i’m getting.” her tone is… silky, but it hits you hard and you look at her face. there’s a hint of a smirk on her lips. a shiver runs down your spine. is she flirting with me?

did i just flirt with her?! she facepalms herself mentally, plopping down on her bed while she holds your gaze, trying to look nonchalant. but she is not. her brain is almost turning off. she’s fidgeting her fingers.

“only selected people have the honour of you liking their attention, then?” you chuckle, seating next to her. your thighs brush and ellie swears she might pass out.

her knee bounces once before she catches herself. stop it. act normal. you are warm and she can feel it even with your clothes’s fabric in the way. “you could say that.” she grabs her laptop, putting it on her lap.

“am i one of them?” you ask, teasingly. her heart nearly stops. she didn’t expect you to be so bold. but she likes it. a lot. her grip on the electronic device tightens, but you don’t notice.

what you notice is how her already pink-tinted cheeks darken even more. you like the effect you have on her. isn’t it funny how miller didn’t even cross your mind, not even once? well, that is until you spot a sick habit cd on her desk.

“oh my god!” you say as you get up and she thanks the universe for not having to answer to your question. she would stutter so hard. “you like them too?”

she watched you, smiling at your enthusiasm. after all, she is the one who recommended them to you. “i love them. they are my favorite band.”

“you are really… something else, ellie.” your words are genuine. you just think she is so cool. and cute. and pretty. and just… not afraid to be herself? like, using minecraft socks or reading comic books during class. telling you how the song you were listening to was good.

if ellie knew you perceived her that way, she would go crazy. how can you see herself for what she truly is when all she does is try to stay low and not catch anyone’s attention in college? how can you understand her when you know how she is outside of that place too?

“have you met you?” is all she manages to say. from admiring you from her seat since she saw you for the first time in class, to really getting to know you, she couldn’t help herself. she was really falling for you, deeper and deeper. im fucked.

you smile widely at her. like you did earlier in class, when she sent you the playlist. her heart aches on her chest. you put the cd on the player, and ‘of two minds’ by sick habit starts to play.

“it’ll be more fun if we do it listening to them, don’t you think?” you tilt your head slightly, asking her. you sit next to her on her bed again.

she couldn’t say no to you. not when you were right there, next to her. not when she could feel your thigh against hers. not when she could sense the smell of your shampoo. “definitely.“

“i told you i wanted you to show me how great your taste is. didn’t i?”

the innuendo in your sentence makes her shiver. the tension in the room is palpable. almost too much to bare. you smirk. when you do, her breath hitches in her throat. “ain’t i showing you enough?” she murmurs, hoping that you would say no.

it lingers between you. this feeling, this moment. your closeness. which seems to be increasing by each second. you get lost into her green eyes. they are so… familiar.

she moves her hand towards your face, hesitantly. when it cups you cheek, you lean into her touch. her fingers are calloused, but the way they caress your skin is soft. there isn’t a second where your eyes leave hers, or hers leave yours.

her heart is racing so fast. she wanted to do that for so long. to feel your skin, to touch you. to have you this close. to see your eyes sparkling at her, the way it does now. at her, truly. not at her in the cd shop where you think she’s a guy. it feels surreal.

until her dorm’s door is yanked open and her roomate barges in, startling both of you. as you get away from each other, lila doesn’t even look at you, apparently looking for something on her bed.

hiding your frustration, you just keep quiet. you almost kissed ellie. should you feel bad? because you really don’t. yes you’ve been talking to someone… flirting with him. exchanging playlists. but it’s nothing serious yet. right?

ellie sighs “what the fuck, lila?” she puts her laptop down on the bed, a hand in her heart as she recovers from it. from you.

“i forgot my essay. shit, where is it? did you touch what was on my bed, ellie?” her rude tone made you frown.

“yeah, it’s in your drawer.” she gets up to open the drawer she referred to, but the other girl rushes in and opens it herself.

“don’t ever touch my things again.” lila says, grabbing her papers and slamming the door when she leaves.

there’s a beat of silence.

“she’s so lovely.” you say, breaking the ice. ellie laughs, coming back to her bed, next to you. she’s so pretty when she laughs.

“yeah, um, i didn’t think she would show up. sorry about that…”

you squeeze her shoulder gently, as if to comfort her. “it’s not your fault. don’t worry.”

her anxieties crumble when you do that. she takes a deep breath, trying not to focus on your touch so much. she smiles at you. “right. for the project, um, have you made the first part?”

as you started talking about the project and what you had in mind for it, both of you tried ignoring the tension that never seemed to fade away. every excuse you had for touching each other was being taking advantage of.

like when you showed her some references of what you thought would be good, leaning closer to her to show it on the laptop’s screen. or when she asked you for one of your colorful markers to sketch something in her journal and her touch on your finger lingered for a little longer.

not to mention the way you were staring at each other, the eye contact almost making you go insane. the little shy chuckles that left your mouths. ellie needed to breathe or else she would do something stupid.

every second she spent next to you, every glance you threw her way, every accidental brush of your hands. it was like something was being carved into her, slowly, softly, permanently.

and when you laughed at one of her dumb jokes about how the main character in savage starlight would be a terrible film director, she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

you made her feel like she was in orbit, like everything else was just distant starlight, and you were the only thing real and glowing.

at some point, the work stopped being the focus. pages sat open, notes abandoned mid-sentence. the music played on, faintly into the background, the sound of your heartbeats louder to your ears.

you caught her staring again and she looked away quickly, biting her lip. "you are really bad at pretending you're not staring" you teased softly.

ellie choked on a laugh "says you."

you grinned, leaning back on your hands, your thigh still pressed to hers. “fair enough.”

another silence. not a bad one. just a moment where you both are too lost on each other and at the growing feeling that makes your stomaches twist. in the dim light of her dorm, she aches at the way you shine at her.

“hey, um, i am gonna go to the bathroom real quick.” she announces. you nod, briefly looking up at her and flashing her a smile.

her sleeves were pushed up slightly and you could see something on her right arm. her inked skin. you were not sure what the drawing was, but it was definitely a tattoo. sometimes you thought about how many similarities she has with… no. stop, you are being crazy.

you rest against the wall, still sitting on the same spot of her bed. you run your hand through the fuzzy blanket to ground yourself. but it accidentaly touches something hard under her pillow. you frown.

deciding to see what it is, you lift the pillow and you see it. her phone. the broken one? doesn’t seem broken at all. what if im not being crazy? is the question that keeps popping in your head.

those were just… coincidences. right? you didn’t even see ellie’s full tattoo. many people gets tattoos on their right arm! that’s normal. and her eyes… well miller is not the only person allowed to have green eyes. obviously.

you shouldn’t be checking her phone. it’s her personal stuff. but you do. you click the button on its right side and the screen lits up. there’s a song already halfway through. it’s paused. you recognize it, ‘californication’ by red hot chili peppers.

it’s a banger. everybody listen to it, don’t they? so what if you put that into the playlist you made for miller? it doesn’t mean anything.

until it does. when you skip to the next song, it’s ‘pour some sugar on me’ by def leppard. the next one? ‘cherry waves’ by deftones. no…

you are on the verge of breaking down. you open your spotify, searching for the playlist. your fingers tremble as you click on it. you check the order. it’s the same. it can’t be.

you skip again. ‘even flow’ by pearl jam. the first tear falls. you go backwards, seeing if the song before californication is what you think it is. you check it on your phone first.

then, you touch the button to the previous song on her phone. ‘heart-shaped box’ by nirvana. that’s all the confirmation you need.

so many feelings rush through your body. it’s overwhelming. embarassment, betrayal, humiliation… it’s too much. the tension snapped and took you with it.

as ellie finishes cleaning her face and taking deep breaths, she hears some noises. she can’t identify what they are. so she opens the door to her room.

you are not there anymore. what is, though? her phone. what is this doing here? i though i hid-

that’s when she knows. you found out.

previous

taglist!

thank you for the support babes, hope you like it 💘

@vahnilla @liztreez @hyperbabes @lybbay @coeurcanelle @desiretolive @b1uecatt @moonystoes @eriiwaiii2 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @uraesthete @machetegirl109 @snuffphiliaa @robinphobia @na0koz @ellies-real-wife @vivzzi @wtvm0m0 @lesoulew @violetszn

[slimepuparibaba]

hi long one but this is a very important hc / imagine that me and a friend felt is important to share, this is yet another part of the LADS future children series (i made one about rafayel and having twin lemurian babies you can find it in the masterlist here)

taglist: @feralkuromi (if you wanna be added lmk :D)

Anyway without further ado

Xavier adopting a son with you

Have we ever talked about how alienated and alone Xavier felt in his family? How estranged he is from his father and just doesn't seem to fit in?

Xavier would adopt because he probably wants to give a home to some kid that feels just as alone as he did. He wants to give someone a family, a family he didn't have, and he wants to be a good father. He really just wants to be there for a child that doesn't feel like they belong, or even give a kid a home. Wants to give someone that was like him long ago and chance to feel like they belong, or that they at leave have somewhere they can return to and feel safe in.

He will discuss this with you at length, seeming calm, but super nervous because adoption is a lot and he doesn't know your thoughts on it. If you agree to it, just know he will be extremely happy. This doesn't push the idea of having kids being born off the table by the way, he just... really wants to adopt first.

Xavier will do EXTENSIVE research, by the way, this isn't a spur of the moment thing. He's probably been thinking about this for the longest amount of time, and he wants to make sure he does this parenting thing right, especially with a kid who already had a family and must have gone through so much. Genuinely, he is so thoughtful about everything, he will do research alongside you as well.

Paperwork is fun, but hey, you both get through it and end up getting approved.

You end up being matched with a young boy who's about 11-12. His parents were lost in a Wanderer attack when he was 3, and he has no relatives willing to take him in, so he was sent to a home. He had been in about 2 families before but sent back simply because there just wasn't that 'spark', or it wasn't the right fit, etc...

The boy liked taking care of the younger kids. He would tell them bedtime stories or fairy tales, he'd always reassure them... he got used to being there. So when he got matched with both of you, he was surprised (most people who visited usually went for the younger kids because they were deemed 'less troublesome' and had 'no baggage').

There are a lot of pre-placement visits once matched. The first one is nerve-wracking on both ends.

You end up taking the lead in the beginning, learning about the boy, trying to get him to feel comfortable in your presence (he's a little anxious himself), meanwhile Xavier is just quiet beside you (man is overthinking a lot about what to say or do).

In the end though, you leave the two to their devices for a bit (under excuse of 'going to the bathroom') and they start talking. And they get along well.

The boy wants to be a Deepspace Hunter when he gets older so no more kids end up losing their parents to Wanderers. He's currently practicing how to use a sword in school because he wants to be like the knights in stories he read when he was younger, and he always plays the knight whenever playing pretend with the younger kids.

Xavier explained that he's a Deepspace Hunter, and offers to see the boy's technique. And the two begin bonding almost instantly.

As the end of the visit drew near, the boy asked Xavier a question: "If I was your son and you were my dad, would you take me to eat hotpot?"

And Xavier replied: "I would take you anywhere, regardless of if you wanted me as your dad."

The next visit, at the boy's request, you and Xavier took him out to hotpot. And you found out that the boy also had quite the appetite on him.

He and Xavier are alike in many ways. He fit right into your little family. But of course, the boy is the one who must consent to the adoption.

This is a very slow process of building up trust with the boy, but Xavier is adamant on making it work. He's learning how the boy grew up, the environment he's used to, what his daily routine looks like, and already adjusting the home in order to be more familiar to him.

Xavier is also asking the foster parents on advice almost constantly. He's making such an effort to ensure the boy feels right at home (he really wants to get this right, he doesn't want to fail the boy). Man is scouring forums, reading books, everything.

Then the boy does end up being placed in your home with you and Xavier. Things still need to be legalized and finalized in court of course—right now, it's the moment of seeing how he ends up fairing in the household.

He ends up liking the place well! You and Xavier help decorate his room, there's new games that have been bought, and more snacks and food filling the kitchen. The pantries have more silverware, and now there's three plates at the table instead of the usual two.

You introduce the boy to the garden you and Xavier cultivated, you show him the piano (and even play a bit together)... he's making himself at home, really.

He does express fear that you and Xavier may return him back, that neither of you want to go through with this. Because this was the moment when he was sent back the past few times. But, both of you continue to shower him in love.

Xavier really is a good father-to-be, and you recognize that as he helps the kid study for school, knows when to be kind and slightly stern, is doing his best not to overstep boundaries... reminds you of when he was first navigating his relationship with you, and when you realized what a kind and thoughtful partner he is.

It's when the boy one day calls Xavier "dad" and calls you "mom/dad/[insert gender neutral parental title here]" that both of you break. Up until that point, he'd been calling Xavier "Mr. Shen" and you in a similar fashion". But then he told you he wants to be your son. For real. And you and Xavier could not be happier.

After everything is finalized and he's officially adopted, not much has changed. Because truth is, the boy had become a part of the family, had already been seen as your son the moment Xavier met him.

He will grow up into a fine young man, with both his and your guidance. And I know for a fact he will feel loved and cherished by the both of you.

[quinn-pop]

i wrote smth short and kotoumi flavored for umi’s birthday, yippee :D

[kookiestarlight]

Lines of fate: 01 | jjk

➵ pairing: tattooist!jungkook x f. reader

➵ genre: apocalypse au, exes to lovers (?) dad!jungkook, survival, angst, smut

➵ summary: the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

➵ word count: 11.9k

➵ warnings: swearing (jk says fuck way too much), graphic depictions of violence and death, blood and gore, seizures, virus and zombies ofc, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.

➵ series masterlist

➵ a/n: it’s finally here!! <3 sorry this was postponed way longer than expected, all I can say is: life :,) anyway!! posting my writing again after years on hiatus definitely feels nerve wracking lol. this idea has been in my wips for literally years so I’m so excited to finally be sharing it with you all!! I would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts as it is something quite different from anything I usually write (it’s definitely been a kick in the ass) it’ll also really help me stay motivated to continue writing it. thank you for all the hype and excitement you showed for this fic before it was even released cause like hello?? that’s crazy to me😭 thanks for always showing my stories love and support🫶🏻 I’ve taken inspiration from all the zombie movies and videogames I’ve ever seen and played over the years (thanks dad). I should also mention, I had a very thorough plot for this planned out and it kinda went to shit in the process of writing so we’re kind of going off vibes only and 20% of the plot I had originally planned so yeah, bare with me🤪 I also want to say, updates on this will most likely be slow, but I will try my best to get them out as fast I can for you🙏 now that that’s over, I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!! this chapter is just the very beginning <33

The autumn sun filters through the large window with an amber glow as you take a slow sip of your coffee, the warm bitterness spreading in your chest as you attempt to chase some kind of comfort. But the loud hum of the city just outside and the muffled chatter of the bustling cafe are very much a grounding reminder of where you are — and where you really wish you weren't.

Your gaze travels down to your daughter sitting on the booth beside you, her little legs swinging off the seat contentedly as she picks away at her blueberry muffin. Completely oblivious to your ongoing little inner torment. Her big eyes flicker up to meet yours, brimming with glee. Brushing a crumb off her cheek, you force a little smile for her. 

Like a dull sting under your skin, you feel how little teeth of guilt gnaw away at you, not only because it’s been almost impossible to offer her a genuine smile in the past two days since you stepped foot in this dammed place, but because you simply wish you could share the same excitement as she does, and perhaps…feel more positive about this whole situation. For her.

But all you’ve been able to feel is guilt.

An incessant amount of it. Guilt and fear. Slowly brewing up inside you like some sort of poison that has had you feeling a little sick to your stomach.

”You’re spiraling again.” Hoseok pulls you out of your absentminded state, studying you over the rim of his half finished iced americano.

You blink. You often tend to forget how well he’s capable of reading you. Though you suppose that’s a skill acquired with nearly twenty years of friendship, and an unavoidable consequence of growing up constantly together, practically like siblings. 

Hoseok has been the only constant in your life for as long as you can remember, like a brother to you — conjoined at the hip as his mother always used to joke. It all began when you moved next door. With your parents always working late and often times far away from home, Hoseok's home slowly became your second one — the place you spent most of your childhood and adolescence and formed some of your fondest memories. A place where you were never alone.

You do suppose it’s no surprise the years and the unbreakable bond you’ve formed have given you exceptional abilities to know when something is off with just a simple glance. But it's never less surprising.

The corners of your mouth tug upwards into a tiny smile at his words, brows pinched in a pathetic attempt to hide your truth. “I am not.”

“You are. You’re thinking too much,” he stirs the ice in his drink with the straw, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Which if I may remind you, is one of your fatal flaws.”

You scoff, only slightly offended as you watch him take a slow sip. Pushing your sunglasses further up your head as you lean back. “Thinking too much is not my fatal flaw.” 

He’s may very likely be right about that, but of course, you’d never actually admit it.

Hoseok snorts, clearly unconvinced. His voice just above a whisper when he murmurs, “Right. Sorry. It’s definitely lying.”

Before you can argue, he leans forward to accept some crumbs of muffin Jieun is so eagerly offering him. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest, watching his expression soften to mush as he thanks her with that brightest, tender smile he only ever uses for her before he brings his attention back to you. 

“If it weren’t your fatal flaw, you’d actually be enjoying that overpriced coffee and oh—, maybe being reunited with your best friend again. I haven’t even seen you in like three months.” He shakes his head in utter disappointment, sitting back with a dramatic sigh.

“Hobi, I am so thrilled to be reunited with you, truly.” You roll your eyes ever so slightly and place a hand on your heart rather sarcastically as you say it, but deep down you hope he knows you’re only half joking. No one has done for you more than what hoseok has in the time you’ve known him.

You suppose all the change has got you in a rather sentimental state. But you bury it away. Hoseok deserves a nice time out with a friend for once too. He’s seen enough of your tears.

“Yeah?” he leans in, studying you with mock concern. Though not falling for it even a bit. "That's your thrilled face? You sure about that?” You almost laugh in response, but then, he shifts, looking more serious than just seconds ago. “You know,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “For someone who finally landed a nice new job and has everything working out, you don’t look all that thrilled to me, actually. That’s all.”

You press your lips together and glance down at your coffee, suddenly the truth a little too hard to face. You should be happy. He’s right. Because things really are starting to look up for you again. Everything you’ve spent the last few months wishing for has finally become a reality. And yet, you can’t shake the fact that there’s a deep buried sense of dread that seems to be getting in the way of that, a familiar fear that's been present for years, but only intensified since you stepped foot in Seoul again. 

Hoseok follows your gaze, watching you carefully, then nudges your foot under the table gently. “Come on.” He murmurs softly, eyebrows raised gently. “What is it?”

You suppose your real fatal flaw is your emotions showing up as flashy neon subtitles over your head apparently, or the fact you are simply terrible at hiding them, because Hoseok doesn't budge. He sees right through your little facade — always has. And as much as you know he is a great listener and that he genuinely cares to hear it all, always ready to give you a helping hand in any way he possibly can, you just don’t want to sound ungrateful. Not when anyone else in your position would be feeling over the moon right now.

Besides, you’ve never liked burdening him, or anyone for that matter. Never wanted to add more weight to the heavy things he already carries himself. He deals with so much of that at work already. So many problems significantly worse than your own worries. So you simply shake your head, putting on a small smile once again in hopes to appease him.

“I’m alright, Hobi. It's just…strange. Being back here. Overwhelming, I guess,” you admit, though only to half of the truth. “It’s so calm on the island. I suppose I got used to it. Everything here is just so intense. But that's all.” You cross your arms on the table as you gaze out at the busy streets. Hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. Though in truth, this whole things isn't just strange. It’s all actually fucking terrifying.

In many ways it seemed like nothing here had changed since the day you left four years ago. The cityscape is as bustling as you remember – a stark contrast to the quietude and stillness of Jeju, where you had been building your new life up until now. People in suits rush back and forth and push into each other with no care, everything is always shadowed by a maze of buildings that don't seem to have an end. Cars weave through traffic like they want to crash into each other, and neon signs and billboards still flicker blindingly even in the daytime. 

The fact that everything remains the same, terrifies you. The rush, the stress, the chaos. That constant hustle and bustle that seems suffocating. It wasn't the reason why you left. but it was certainly a factor that made your life here something you wanted to escape from. It feels like stepping back into the life you thought you’d left behind for good. Like stepping onto a moving treadmill, when you no longer know how to run. Not sure if you’ll ever find your place here again.

Hobi hums in understanding, and the warmth in the familiarity of his smile helps lessen the knot that's been forming in your stomach all morning. And though you've only let out a tiny portion of what's on your mind, you already feel like you can breathe with more ease.

Sometimes, it’s not so bad that he can see right through you. Because you also tend to forget he’s the only one that truly gets you, understands you when even you struggle to understand yourself, and has never once been one to judge you, no matter how small or ridiculous it may be.

“Yeah, I get it. It can be overwhelming.” He nods slowly, letting the words settle. “But if I were you, I’d be damn proud of myself.” His expression is calm and his words full of sincerity as he speaks. “You did what you had to do, and now you’re doing it again. Making more big changes. Really tough decisions, and I know that’s not easy.” He pauses. “But you've always made it after all. This time won't be different. Besides, think about this, we’re close to each other now. I’ll be here for anything you guys need, you know that.”

Your heart softens at his comforting words, and the reassurance feels like it melts some of the tension off your shoulders. And for just a split second you feel that roar of confidence, thinking about everything you've accomplished, but it's not lasting, and deflates with the weight of your heavier thoughts.

You want to believe what he says — you really do. For your daughter's sake. Because this is finally your chance to start over and build something better. To give Jieun the life she deserves, something stable, a chance to thrive in a place full of new opportunities. 

A fresh start. 

After all, isn't that all you've ever been chasing?

You don’t want to allow your fears and the past to come in the way of that. But it's never so simple. At least, definitely not here — definitely not for you.

Because the truth is, being in Seoul again feels like roaming a haunted city. Tainted and plagued by shadows from the past, by who you used to be, and everything and everyone you left behind all those years ago when you ran and didn’t dare to look back. Being here now, you can’t shake the feeling — the apprehension and fear that everything you once left behind is lurking around the corner, ready to jump out and haunt you, making everything you've finally built up crumble to pieces once again. This place just gives you an indescribable feeling of…dread. Eeriness even. Enough for it to linger gut deep with a painful sense of discomfort that hasn’t eased since the day you arrived. As if you can never truly let your guard down.

But after all, it was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, even if it meant returning to the city you swore you’d never step foot in again. The offer came at just the right moment, a lifeline after months of uncertainty and dead-ends. After losing your job, and endless nights crying yourself to sleep with the heavy burden of becoming a failure of a mother and not knowing how to make ends meet. You practically cried with joy the morning you finally got the call, and ignored the pit that formed in your stomach when you heard where it required you to move to. It had felt like you were about to reach the peak of a mountain, only to drop all the way back down to the bottom. But it was a steady paycheck, and a chance to finally give Jieun some stability. It wasn’t glamorous or grand — a position in a small marketing firm. But it was enough to rebuild. The breakthrough you so badly needed to start over and secure a future for your little girl. 

How could you possibly turn it down?

That was your biggest and only goal in life.

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her. So you knew in that very instant you had to take it. Even if it meant returning to the place that broke you beyond repair. So you packed up your life and now, here you are. Back where you never thought you’d be. So far from the tranquility of the home you had made for yourself in a secluded tiny seaside town four years ago. Where you were happy. Where you didn't live in constant fear.

“I know this is what I need right now,” you speak softly, more to yourself than anything. You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through Jieun's baby soft hair, watching as she focuses intently on her muffin, completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. “I just don’t want to mess anything up…the job, you know, our new life here. I want to get this right. I don’t want anything, getting in the way of that.” You swallow thickly, fingers tightening around the mug of coffee in front of you, and Hoseok knows exactly what you mean by that. You hesitate, letting out a quiet breath before speaking again. “I know there's so many opportunities for us here but…I was happy in Jeju. Jieun was happy.”

Hoseok nods, slow and understanding. “I know you were. A city like this takes some adapting to, you know that.” He reaches out and gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “but give it time. You’ll settle right back in.” He says warmly, reassuring. You return a tiny smile, more genuine this time.

“Seriously though. Change is good. New home, new job, meeting new people…maybe even someone special…” he adds.

You scoff, eyes widening, only half incredulous at how fast he swerved the topic there. So typical of him. 

“Yeah no, thanks. You can stop it right there.” You shake your head.

“What?” Hobi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he waggles his eyebrows, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, completely unbothered despite your clear opposition. “I'm just saying,” he adds in, raising his hands in mock innocence, though he feels like your glare could actually kill him. “You’re young. You’re no longer in that tiny ass town full of old drunk married cheating men. Everyone deserves a little fun. It wouldn't kill you to-”

“Hobi,” you sigh, cringing internally at the memories of disastrous dates you told him all about over the phone. You throw a pointed look in his direction, but Hoseok just chuckles. “I’m done with all that. Seriously.”

“Come on,” he presses.

“No. No way. I told you.” You interject, tone firm, not even allowing space for the idea. “I’m a single mother, Hobi. That’s been off the cards for years. I have different priorities now.” You straighten in your seat, making a point to scoop Jieun's hair back and out of her drink. These are your priorities now.

Hoseok raises a brow, watching you carefully, but there's no judgment in his expression now — just silent understanding. He leans back in his chair again, smile dying down, tapping his fingers absently against his iced americano before his gaze drifts over to your little girl. His expression softens, fondness flowing in his eyes.

“I know,” he says after a moment, his tone a tad more gentle. “But I’m just saying…you’re allowed to let yourself be happy again, you know. You deserve that.”

Something uncomfortable twists in your insides. Happy. What a simple word, but what a complex thing. 

You lift your eyes to meet his, the sincerity in his gaze cutting right through. You could argue, explain that you don't agree, that romance is a door locked for good. Not only out of fear, but out of necessity. It’s no longer just about you. You don’t have the luxury of reckless choices or fleeting little flings like you did before.

There's simply to much buried history to let anyone new into your life.

And deep down, you don't believe you deserve it. But you don’t voice any of that. There's no need to explain. Hoseok knows your history better than anyone, the pain etched deep into you, the one you carry like a scar beneath your skin. He knows Jieun's father plays a big role in that, even though you don’t dare to mention him and haven’t in years. He knows his existence and every memory he’s involved in is something you merely refuse to acknowledge. And though Hoseok wants nothing more than for you to thrive, he knows better than to press on the matter. 

Still, he hesitates before speaking quietly. “I’ve been here four years, and I’ve never seen him again.”

He says it gently, in hopes the information is comforting to you, to maybe put you at ease, but instead it feels like a small jab between your ribs. You stiffen, for just a second. You feel your heart begin to race a tiny bit faster. And you wonder when the mention of him will stop having this goddamn effect on you.

Hoseok notices, and regret quickly flickers across his face. He realizes he might have overstepped, treading on thin ice that he fears may slowly be cracking beneath him.

But it doesn't. You take a deep breath, and you simply nod. It’s okay. You know you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, who’s to say he even still lives here? The thought should be reassuring, bring you some sort of peace, be relieving. But it isn’t. Because the thought of ever seeing him again makes your palms sweat, and your chest a little tight.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “You’re right. Who knows.”

You don't mention how many late nights you've stayed up, haunted with thoughts like if ever did make it out of here. If he ever made it to the states and accomplished all those things he wanted. If he's perhaps settled down and started a family or if he's stuck right where he used to be, how he used to be. You don't mention that sometimes, you mind even attacks you with the intrusive thought of if he’s even still alive.

You don't dare mention any of it.

Hoseok exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just-” He pauses, voice lowering as he checks Jieun to make sure she's not listening, not that she would know or understand, but you appreciate that he does. “I know we’re not meant to talk about him–“

You push past it, giving a small dismissive shake of the head. Instead, you plaster on a small practiced smile, turning to glance down at the little girl beside you as well. It isn't something easy to avoid. But for the past four years, somehow, you’ve managed it. 

“Anyway. I am happy,” you say, voice softer now, steering the conversation elsewhere. “I get all the love I need from my little lovebug right here, don’t I?”

The little lovebug in question remains completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. Instead, her wide eyes are fixated on something outside, her eyes big and small fingers suddenly clutching your sleeve.

“Mommy, look!” She gasps, tugging desperately for your attention, she calls you again, tearing you away from your conversation. “The birdy!”

You follow her gaze, a small black bird just on the other side of the glass, and the simplicity of her joy softens you, eases the heaviness for a second. It really doesn't take much to amuse a child, and you’re glad to see at least someone enjoying her time here so far. “I see, baby.”

You smile with her, that is until, just a moment later, you notice… the small bird is no longer pecking at crumbs on the pavement. It’s… acting rather strangely. Its head twitches sharply to the side, body jerking with twitchy erratic movements as it flaps it’s wings like crazy, then suddenly, it freezes, before twitchting again.

Your brows furrow, unable to take your eyes off it. What the hell? Something about it sends a strange chill through you, suddenly understanding what had Jieun so surprised.

“Oh, I think that poor bird might have gone a little coo coo.” Hoseok turns his head to take a look himself, and you both exchange a puzzled glance, to which Hobi just shrugs with a mildly disgusted expression.

“What, you know I hate birds.” he whispers, shrugging like someone just walked over his grave, and you swat his arm and shush him, suppressing a laugh. You wouldn't want your sweet animal loving daughter hearing that. 

“Isn't that so weird. I’ve never seen one do that before.” You say, and hoseok tilts his head, staring at it with a mildly grossed out frown. “Probably has some kind of parasite or something. Not sure.”

“It’s gonna die?” she looks up at hobi, her little face full of worry. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer.

“Not necessarily, bub. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hobi answers, trying to be tactful, however, Jieun doesn’t look convinced, but she nods sadly and resumes eating spoonfuls of her hot chocolate that's long gone cold. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine baby.” You kiss the top of her head, as you glance out the window once again, only to see it’s no longer there. 

“So odd.” You shake your head, taking another sip of your coffee, and Hoseok nods and lets out a low hum, taking another sip himself.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day? Are you actually gonna start unpacking, or are you going to let those suitcases rot in your living room for another week?” He taunts.

You chuckle. “I’ll unpack eventually. This little girl and I have a long list of errands left to do today.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you an unconvinced look, then looks at Jieun with a dramatic pout, cooing. “My poor little monkey. Prisoner to moms to do list. I remember that feeling.”

She giggles, and you speak up. “Shhh, she loves errands with mommy, don't you-”

Suddenly, a loud crash sound from the back of the café, startling you all.

The sharp clatter of metal rings out and you hear a young worker gasp, emerging hastily from behind the counter as the previous muffle of conversation begins to die down. Heads immediately start turning towards the scene unfolding before them. 

“What the hell?” you murmur as you hastily turn around yourself, pulse spiked from the jump.

Near the back of the cafe, a chair is knocked to the ground, a mans body hunched over on the floor, shaking and convulsing with an unnatural force that seems to take over him completely. The man sitting beside him instantly scrambles to the floor next to him, shaking his shoulders in a failed attempt to break him out of whatever is happening as he calls out for help in a trembling voice, panicked.

“Oh my god, Hobi-” You gasp and your stomach twists as you take in what is occurring, grip instinctively tightening around your daughter's hand, turning her away from the scene. One of the members of staff pulls out her phone, announcing that she will call an ambulance right away, the man on the floor now surrounded by two other workers that instantly made their way over to him.

Hoseok takes just a few seconds to register what’s going on. “Shit.” He mutters, “A seizure.”

Instantly, he’s up on his feet, leaving you and Jieun behind and rushes over to help, but before he can reach the man on the floor, a young worker steps in front of him, his hands raised. 

“An ambulance is on the way!” he blurts out, eyes darting between the unconscious man and the crowd gathering around him, Hoseok noticing his eyes full of panic. “Please, just give him space.”

“It's alright. I’m a nurse,” Hoseok urges, trying to step around him. “Please, let me-”

This time, there’s no resistance — only relief in the young man's panicked eyes as he steps aside, allowing Hoseok through to where the man is convulsing on the floor.

Jesus christ. On his one day off. He thinks internally.

Without hesitation, Hoseok drops to one knee. “Don’t hold him down,” he instructs the mans friend beside him as he proceeds to unbutton the first few buttons of the man's shirt to facilitate his breathing. He presses his fingers to his wrist as best as he can, taking a pulse. He attempts to roll him on his side, but he seizes with too much force, limbs jerking far too erratically for him to do so. 

“Has he ever had seizures before? Is he epileptic?” Hoseok asks without tearing his eyes away from the man.

The man's friend just shakes his head. “No…no- he was fine right before.”

“Ambulance is just two minutes away,” the barista yells, phone still pressed to her ear. Hoseok nods but keeps his focus on the young man. Face contorted in concertation as he's checking his pulse once again before tilting his head to ensure he’s breathing properly.

You sit speechless few tables away, watching the scene unfold, your heart erratic in your chest. But feeling so much relief Hoseok was here. Jieun's small hand holds yours tightly, grip strong. She shifts in her seat, trying to peek over the booth to the commotion, but you gently pull her in beside you. Pulling her close, you brush a soothing hand over her hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” your whisper. “That man wasn’t feeling very well. But uncle hobi is helping him. Isn’t that so good? He’s really good at helping people remember. It's okay.”

Jien nods slowly, though her brows are still drawn together in concern. She doesn’t fully understand, but she doesn’t doubt your word, or her uncle's abilities.

Across the large space, Hoseok presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes watching carefully as the man's convulsions finally begin to slow, the violent jerking finally seeming to ease up. But just as the worst seems to have passed…Hoseok stiffens. 

There’s a concerning, deep purplish hue creeping up the man’s neckline, peeking through the gap of his unbuttoned white shirt. Dark veins snaking against his pale skin, spreading like ink through thin cracks. Hoseok swallows hard, alarm bells ringing at the back of his mind. 

That…that doesn’t look right. His medical knowledge kicks in, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind, digging for the most fitting answer. Is it cyanosis? an undiagnosed vascular disease? Possibly an infected wound? blunt trauma?

His mind dashing for answers in an instant, but before he can take a better look and unbutton his shirt completely, after what feels like a lifetime, the piercing wail of sirens cuts right through his thoughts, and just moments after, paramedics burst into the café, pushing past the gathered crowd near the Hoseok and the patient on the floor. Hoseok quickly regains focus, stepping back to allow them to take over. 

“He had a seizure. Approximately a minute long. His breathing is stable but—“ He hesitates for a second, then presses on, giving them a brief diagnosis and rundown. “I think he may have another underlying condition. Possible hypoxia.”

The paramedic beside him nods, wasting no time as they swiftly load him onto a stretcher. He stands back, his jaw tight, fingertips tingling with the urge to do more, watching as they wheel him out through the entrance. The murmurs of the coffee shop begin to start up again, confused and concerned looks turning left and right, but Hoseok can’t shake all the questions in his mind. 

He just hopes the guy turns out to be okay. The same way it goes with every patient he sees. You have to do your part and let go. That's how it works. but this time, he's left with a weird feeling bubbling inside.

After a few minutes, Hoseok turns back to your table. The moment his eyes meet yours, you’re already standing and asking, “God, is everything okay? He’s okay, right?”

“It’s alright,” Hoseok reassures you, though his tone is softer than usual. “They've got it under control.”

His gaze flickers toward Jieun, who’s still clinging to you, her small face twisted in worry as she glances between the two of you. She tugs your sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mommy…what happened to the man?”

“The ambulance people will take care of him and take him to the hospital so they can help him.” You say gently. She blinks up at you, then glances toward Hoseok, as if waiting for confirmation.

Hoseok lips form a small smile, crouching slightly to be at her eye level. “Your mom is right,” he says carefully, patting her head. “Sometimes when people don’t feel well they need a little help. That’s what doctors and nurses are for Jieun. It’s okay.”

Jieun watches him for a moment, and gives him a slow understanding nod. He then straightens and exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back toward the road in front of the entrance where the ambulance is now setting off.

You nod, now feeling a weight of unease in the crowded space. It would probably be best to give them space to handle the situation, and to get some fresh air after that. So you retrieve Jieun's little pink puffer vest from off hobis chair and gently help her arms into, zipping it up snuggly to keep her warm from the afternoon chill, before taking her hand in yours.

As the three of you finally step outside, you're grateful for the crisp autumn air that lifts some of the heaviness off you. God, that was stressful. The distant sounds of the city hum around you, and life moves as if nothing happened.

“God, I hope that guy is okay.” You say quietly only for Hoseok to hear, taking your daughter's hand as you let out a slow breath. “First that weird bird and then that poor guy.”

Hoseok hums in agreement and gives a small reassuring nod, pushing his concerns aside. But you know how hard it is for him to switch off. How even when the emergency is over, his mind replays it again and again, analysing— wondering if he could have done more, if he could’ve done better. Even when he deals with stuff like this everyday, it’s never been easy.

“Jesus Christ. What's that saying, bad things always come in two’s? Three’s? ” He chuckles, letting out a huff. “I told you, there’s never an uneventful day out here.” Hobi shakes his head, forcing a smile to lift the mood. But his body still buzzes with tension. Then, in one swift movement, he scoops Jieun up, swinging her into his arms. “Now, time for ice cream?”

Jieun giggles loudly, kicking her feet excitedly at his words, all her earlier worries forgotten. “Yes!”

“Hobi, she just had a hot chocolate. Do you even have space for ice cream, Jieun?” You say, trying to sound stern, but the sight of them giggling together pulls a real smile out of you. And something inside already tells you you’re going to give in.

“She’s with uncle hobi now, there’s no rules.” He sing songs, walking ahead of you with your daughter in arms, all smiles as she squeals at his gentle tickling. The spitting image of joy if you ever saw it.

And for just a moment, you try to push away the nagging feeling that’s been pressing at the back of your mind. 

Because maybe, just maybe, this time, everything will be just fine after all.

Jungkook steadies his hand, a quiet hiss of pain getting lost in the low thrumming of the tattoo gun that fills the quiet studio, lulling him into that comforting sense of calm he knows so well. It’s a fairly big piece, he’s been here hunched over for hours now, that familiar dull ache creeping up his back, but he barely registers it. Because all that matters is the art taking form beneath his touch. 

Here, in these moments, it's when the feels most himself. Distracted, at peace, In control. Something he’s never found that easy outside of these four walls.

Every stroke, every line falls exactly where he intends it to. In a way, the rest of the world seems to fade away — no worries, just ink and skin, art coming to life. And it grants him a satisfaction nothing else can quite offer. And if there’s one thing Jungkook prides himself on, it’s his work and dedication. He built this place with steady hands and relentless effort, and he knows damn well he’s good at what he does. Confidence hasn't always been second nature to him, but time and experience have definitely sharpened him.

He leans back slightly to take in the work before him, his disheveled strands of dark hair falling over his eyes as he uses a paper towel to wipe up some excess ink from the client's forearm before glancing up. “How are we holding up?”

The young guy shifts in the chair, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Let’s just say I felt that last bit there.”

Jungkook nods, noting the slight sheen of sweat on the guy's forehead. He’s just glad he’s not a squirmer. That shit makes his job so much harder than it needs to be. 

His own body is the canvas of plenty tattoos. All colours, shapes and sizes. He's more than numb to the pain now. But he gets it.

“You’re doing really well. I won’t torture you much longer. We’re almost done with the worst part.” Pressing the pedal again, he feels the familiar vibration travel up his arm, he tongues with his lip piercing, a habit that signals his concentration. His hair is dusting over his eyes as he continues with the last bits of shading and does the final touch ups of all the smaller details. Another forty five minutes pass, broken by lighthearted conversation here and there. Though Jungkook never used to be one for making conversation before, he has long mastered the art of letting his mouth wander while his hands and precision remain steady and focused.

“Alright, and we’re done,” he wipes down the fresh ink one last time before setting the tattoo gun aside, letting out a silent exhale as he wheels back, peeling off his black gloves to grab the aftercare instruction sheet, ready to spew his usual little lecture he knows most people don’t even pay much attention to.

“Sit up slowly.” Jungkook instructs.

When the guy finally stands, he marvels at his tattoo in the mirror. Jungkook feels a flicker of pride swell in his chest. No matter how many times he does this, seeing the completed, polished work and his client's expressions of amazement never gets old. “Looks sick man. Better than I imagined.” He beams, twisting his arm under the light, his smile spreading all across his face.

“Good choice with the design.” Jungkook replies with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He then places the protective film, gives him a quick rundown of the aftercare and hands him the sheet. “Take care of it. Follow the aftercare instructions and it’ll heal nicely. And you know, any issues just come by or give me a call and I’ll check it out.”

“Will do. Thanks man, it’s perfect.”

As the last client of the day slips out with a final wave and he hears the bell over at the entrance ding, Jungkook finally feels the exhaustion set in — the kind that only comes after hours of steady concentrated work. Fuck, he really does need to work on his posture. He stretches his back, then cracks his knuckles, stretching his toned, inked arms over his head. But despite the tiredness, he feels no rush no rush to get back to his empty apartment.

He never does.

Instead, he takes his time wiping down his station, tidying all his clutter and ink in the methodical and organized way only he understands — something Yoongi always grumbles about when borrowing his space. But this is his sanctuary. He makes the rules. And yoongi may complain, but he accepts it.

When he's done cleaning up, Jungkook emerges into the entrance area of the studio, rubbing the back of his neck and ruffling his hair at the nape.

Yoongi stretches in his chair behind the front counter, arms lifting above his head as he lets out as wide yawn, smacking his lips as his eyes land on the younger. “Christ, I thought you were dead in there,” he says deadpan, watching as Jungkook attempts to roll out the tension coiled in his shoulders, stifling a yawn himself. “Or are you? I genuinely can't tell.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, slumping onto the leather couch with an over dramatic sigh, throwing the back of his arm over his eyes as he lets his body sink into the plush cushion. It’s moments like this he’s really fucking glad they invested in a good sofa. He wants it to swallow him.

“Sure you can survive the schedule tomorrow? We’re fucking packed.” He says.

Jungkook’s brows knit together as his eyes dart over to Yoongi, eyeing the printed schedule in front of him as he rubs his jaw. “What? You think I can't handle it?”

Yoongi shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He coughs into his fist, a rough dry sound that echoes through the quietness of the now empty studio. “I know you think you’re some kind of machine,” he gives the younger a pointed look, “but let me just remind you that you are, in fact, very much not.”

Jungkook's lips quirk. “Woah, woah. I’ll be fine. Unlike someone who sounds like they've caught the plague.” Lifting his arms from his eyes just enough to peer at Yoongi, he swings his arm as if to push him away. “Stay away from me with that. I can’t afford a day off anytime soon.”

Yoongi scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as he coughs into his fist again. “Relax, it's just the dust. Or if you’re lucky enough I've caught that shit going around. Won't be on your case anymore for at least two weeks. That's if I survive.”

The sound is muffled by his arm as Jungkook lets out a tired chuckle, but his eyes remain closed. “Now you’re just trying to get out of work tomorrow, hyung. I know your little tricks.”

“If anyone should be trying to get our work, it should be you. Admit your running on fumes.” Yoongi drops the piece of paper to the desk and crosses his arms, looking right across to Jungkook, his eyes squinting lightly.

Jungkook feels his heavy gaze, but he's not in the mood to face one of Yoongis lectures right now. He can’t exactly argue that. Because he knows Yoongi is not entirely wrong. 

He's working six days a week, morning till night, barely stopping to take a breath. Hell, it would've been the entire seven days of the week if Yoongi hadn’t raised hell the day he suggested it. Jungkook had tried to reason with him, insisting that Yoongi would still get his days off as usual, that he’d open up the studio alone on weekends and get everything sorted for the week ahead. But it was never about that, and he knew it.

Jungkook has always had a knack for picking up self-destructive tendencies. A slow brewing kind of self destruction, pushing himself way past his limits, working himself down to the bone until he can barely function. And Yoongi simply wasn't going to stand back and watch it happen all over again right in front of his eyes.

Most days, he only eats because it’s Yoongi who shoves food his way, whether he wants it or not.  Prepping meals and stashing them away in their mini fridge in the back room where Jungkook can find them, labeled with a little note in his unmistakable messy handwriting that reads “eat.”

Because behind his serious facade, Yoongi had always tried his best to care for him. 

From countless nights of dragging his black out drunk body home back in college, and many times after college as well. To picking him up from the streets at 4 am after he got into a nasty fight, bruised and bleeding and sobbing his heart out alone on an empty sidewalk. Yoongi didn’t question it back then, didn't hesitate. He never does. He just helped quietly with no second thought, allowing him to sit with his silent sobs on the car ride home. He had always been there, offering him a home when he had nowhere else to go, offering everything he had if it helped Jungkook from drowning.

It was Yoongi that had seen the potential in him and had patiently guided him to finally see it for himself, helping him build this studio from nothing — helping him build every piece of furniture, putting up every shelf, painting every wall, making sure Jungkook finally had something to call his. 

And now, despite all the hardships, he’s come further than they both could have imagined.

Yet deep down, Yoongi knows no amount of help can stop Jungkook from being who he is, not when he has it so deeply rooted in himself to self sabotage in every way he possibly can. It's simply how he’s wired. Yoongi has long accepted that some things are simply beyond his reach, and that Jungkook won’t ever fully change. And he may never admit it out loud, but somewhere in his heart, as the eldest, he’s always felt an unspoken weight of responsibility for Jungkook. That's why he tries relentlessly to guide him towards better choices.

Even though Jungkook has matured and come a long way from his troubled past and the reckless kid he used to be, he’s far from eradicating his bad habits entirely. He knows he’s working himself down to the bone. He knows it's not healthy. Unrealistic for him to sustain in the long run. But he doesn’t like himself when he’s unoccupied. 

He doesn't like the quiet.

Because when there’s silence, there’s space for his mind to make noise.

So that’s what he does. He works, works until he can exhaust himself to the point of passing out, too drained to even feel. It means no thoughts can haunt him when his head hits the pillow. And he’s okay with that.

Besides, he loves his job. That's a fact. The only thing he’s passionate about. All he’s ever found himself to be good at. He doesn’t need anything or anyone else. 

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Fumes are still fuel,” Jungkook shoots back. He reaches behind his head to grab an old vintage manga off the small side table, flipping through the pages without really reading.

Yoongi studies him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction. He shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the counter, zeroing in on him as if he were ready to throw out a serious scolding, like he did back when he was a kid. But his next words are nothing but gentle. “You know, if you wanna keep up with that schedule, you’re gonna need sleep. I can close up if you wanna head out first.”

Jungkooks expression falters — just a flicker. But he covers it with an exaggerated groan. It does get on his nerves ever so slightly, just slightly. What is it with everyone always underestimating him? Treating him like he's not capable of making his own decisions. But his tongue toys with his lip ring as he continues flicking through the pages, feigning nonchalance. “I’m good. I wanna sketch out a few new designs first. Got some ideas ratting around.”

Yoongi squints at him, clearly unconvinced. “You do know that old couch isn't a substitute for a bed, right? and you could just…do that at home.”

Jungkook tosses the comic aside as he shrugs, already bored of the conversation, his inked fingers drumming relentlessly against the worn red leather. “I focus better here.” Is his simple answer, but before Yoongi can speak, a loud siren cuts through their conversation, blaring jarringly as it flashes by across the street. Almost instantly another follows, and then another.

Instinctively, both of their heads turn towards the window, though it only gives view to a small glimpse of the larger front street, most of their view blocked by the building across from them, all they can see is the bright lights flashing as they rush past.

“The hell’s that about,” Yoongi mutters, straightening in his chair.

Jungkook furrows his brows, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look outside. But from what he can see, everything seems normal enough — cars passing by, people going about their night and a few students heading home from late study sessions. Nothing in particular out of the ordinary.

The studio is located on a fairly quiet smaller side street, on the outskirts of the city, just a little further from the booming heart of Seoul. It’s never as busy or chaotic here, much quieter.

“Accident, maybe?” Jungkook guesses, a tired breath slipping past his lips. It’s still Seoul after all. When is it ever completely quiet? 

Yoongi hums in agreement, but as if on cue, another set of sirens blares through the streets, overlapping with others as the noise grows, this time it’s police cars too, wailing violently and urgently before fading into the distance as they speed away. Jungkook glances at Yoongi, who meets his gaze with an equally puzzled expression.

“Must be pretty bad.” Jungkook says.

Yoongi just pulls out his phone to check the time and sighs. “Well, whatever it is, I'm not sticking around to find out.” He pushes himself to his feet, patting his back pocket to pull out his dented pack of cigarettes before reaching for his jacket draped over the back of the chair.

A slight sense of uneasiness crawls up Jungkook's spine. That was about four ambulances and three police cars if not more. That’s….that’s a lot. But he soon brushes it off. “I’ll check the news later.” He mumbles, letting his heavy body drop back against the soft cushion, with no energy or intention to move.

Yoongi tugs his jacket on, tossing him a small glance. “Well, if you’re gonna stay here, at least don’t fall asleep on that damn couch again. You drool, and it’s gross.”

Jungkook chuckles, though it's half hearted. “I won’t ruin your sacred couch, hyung. Don't you worry.”

“Good.” Yoongi deadpans, heading toward the door. He flips the neon sign to closed before turning back to Jungkook once more, his tired features softening just a touch. “Don't stay too late. Tomorrow is fucking packed and you’ll regret it when youre half dead in the morning. And don’t forget about that girl you booked in at 9.”

He presses his eyes shut for a moment, letting out a breath. The girl needed some touch ups to her tattoo but had a busy schedule and no time to visit any other day or at ay other time. So Jungkook did the favour, and offered to book her in before opening time. But fuck. He really does need to stop bending his schedule for people.

He knows he’s going to regret it.

Jungkook just waves a dismissive hand, already getting comfy on the couch. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave soon.”

Yoongi doesn't believe him, but he doesn't argue, just pulls out a cigarette from the pack and raises his hands in surrender before he pulls open the door. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement. “Rest up, Hyung.”

The studio fades to dead silence once the door closes. Though sirens still echo faintly in the background.

Stretched out on the couch, Jungkook stares at the ceiling a little longer than necessary. His limbs feel heavy, exhaustion pressing down on him heavily. He wants to work on those sketches, he wants to push his limits a little further. But his body seems to know what's best for him. And within minutes, he’s passed out.

When Jungkook’s eyes crack open, it’s to the gentle sound of rain pattering against the windows. But it’s not rain the noise that woke him. Distant voices shout over one another, and the erratic wailing of car alarms and sirens blast in a near distance, sounding like he’s still stuck between consciousness and a dream. Jungkook blinks, then suddenly, screeching tires follow into a loud crash, something heavy and metal hitting the pavement. His heart spikes, and his body jerks up instantly before his mind can register what the hell is going on. The sudden movement makes him lightheaded, blinking as he tries to shake the disorientation fogging his mind.

Shit. How long had he been out?

He curses under his breath, his head throbbing. Did someone just fucking crash their car outside? In his dazed state his fingers fumble for his phone in the front pocket of his jeans. He squints, the bright screen glaring back at him painfully in the darkness of the studio.

11:48 PM.

The first thought that comes to mind is drunk people causing a ruckus. It certainly wouldn't be unusual for Friday night. But then… he stops to listen. Are they breaking in? then his mind steers more towards the possibility of some petty street fight, or some idiots causing trouble. It’s the only conclusion his sleepy can come to.

But then, he hears it. 

Raw, panicked, screams erupting from the streets outside. It sounds close. Really close.

What the fuck? 

Jungkook feels a sickening pit form in his stomach.

Because that's definitely not the drunken shouts of a fight, not the sound of some petty fight or a car accident. It’s the kind of scream that crawls under your skin. And Jungkook knows the sounds of panic when he hears it. He feels his heart beating in his chest now, fast and strong. Something isn’t right. Before his mind can think  further, he pushes off the couch and yanks his leather jacket from the armrest, pulling it on in a swift motion, feeling a little dizzy as the room slowly begins to spin from getting up so fast. 

Behind the front counter he crouches, reaching for his motorcycle helmet. But his grip isn't steady, his palms suddenly feel a bit sweaty. The air in the room slightly suffocating.

His mind scrambles as he finally strides for the door, all he knows something is telling him he needs to get out. He’s ready to leave and check on what's happening outside, but just as his fingers brush the cold metal door handle—

A loud bang crashes into the large front window of the studio.

The impact rattles the entire front window, the glass shuddering violently as something smacks right into it with bone crushing force, causing large cracks to expand from the center like a spiderweb, blooming outwards across the glass. The helmet drops to the ground with a loud thud and Jungkook stumbles back in the darknesses, almost crashing back into the front counter as his breath gets stuck in his throat.

Jungkook freezes. His entire body completely paralyzed as he watches a thick, dark gush of red begin to trail down the ruins of the window. His eyes slowly follow it upwards and then…then he sees it.

A face, wedged between the shards of glass.

Jungkook sees the face of a man...except, it can't be. The skin is unnaturally pale, sickly white, dark veins bulging beneath the surface, tiny pieces of glass wedged everywhere into its flesh. Blood coats its entire mouth, dripping to the floor beneath — but it's the eyes… They send a shot of terror right down Jungkook's spine. 

They’re clouded and gray, almost white and eerily vacant, yet somehow, they’re locked right onto him.

Jungkook feels like he can’t take a breath, his chest tight as his eyes grow with complete shock and confusion.

Then, it moves.

Its head twitches in a slow agonized form before it seems to fully register Jungkook's figure standing right across. It cocks his head towards him completely with a grotesque sound of craking and lunges forward, slamming its hands against the glass with inhuman strength. Giving it all his power to break inside. It lets out another groan, a guttural broken sound as it reveals a row of blood stained teeth, the deep red liquid dripping from its mouth.

Jungkook swallows hard. If he moves will it move too? Will it...chase him? He feels like no oxygen is reaching his lungs, or his brain, his mind struggling to even process what he is seeing. That…that can't be real. It can’t be human. All he can do is watch as his heartbeat pounds like a hammer in his chest, louder than the sirens and screams growing outside, louder than the animalistic banging against the window.

That…thing is trying to kill him. It’s going to kill him.

It doesn’t stop. It claws at the glass, smearing the blood, desperate, mindless — growing more violent as it seems to realise its stuck. But the glass creaks more with each hit, trembling under the pressure of each movement, and Jungkook realizes it might not hold up much longer. He has no time.

Move.

He has to move.

Like a spring snapping, his body finally kicks into action. He stumbles backwards, feeling glass beneath his shoes as he tries to hold in a breath, his eyes fixed on the creature as he tries to back away with steady steps. After a beat, he sprints towards the back of the studio, running as his body pushes through the beaded curtain into the back room. 

His hands fumble frantically in his pocket — keys, keys, keys — but his hands are trembling too much to grip them. Fuck.

Jungkooks mind races with a thousand questions colliding all at once. But none of them make sense. None of them are even remotely rational.

That thing. It wasn’t human. Then what the hell was it?

Another jarring bang echoes in the studio, followed by a loud screech. But Jungkook doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have time. His only thought is to get out of here. Fast. He needs to get away from whatever the fuck that is. He needs to get to his motorcycle. He needs to get the police.

His fingers finally curl around cold metal. The keys. With a sharp inhale, he yanks opens the heavy back door leading into the tiny side alley and slams it shut behind him as he rushes out.

It’s dim, lit only by a flickering street lamp near the end, casting eerie shadows across the brick walls. The air is cool and damp, the smell of rain fresh on the damp asphalt and the sound of sirens and shouting voices in the distance become even clearer than before. But Jungkook can't see the one thing he’s looking for. His gaze darts around frantically and he feels a dreadful realization claw at his throat. 

His motorcycle is gone. The spot where it’s always parked is empty. 

Jungkook panics, his hands coming to his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As he looks around helplessly, his breath only grows more erratic. He finds no other option but to run, so he runs to the end of the alleyway, running right towards the screams and tumult, and when he reaches the end, the scene unfolding before him almost kicks him to his feet.

The once quiet street had turned into a horrifying scene. People mindlessly running away from something. But what his eyes land on almost immediately is on a young woman in the middle of street, clutching her neck with both hands, her body swaying as she chokes out for help before she drops to her knees, her body shaking. Jungkook watches in horror as someone else runs right past her, coming from the same direction, white button up shirt soaked in something dark as his features display a kind of terror he’d never witnessed before. Across the street, an older man is pulling down the storefront gates as he locks himself inside, letting two kids in high school uniforms scream and kick as they beg to be let in, screaming and crying.

“What the fuck...” the words escape involuntarily in a quiet mumble to himself, his hands coming to his head.

Jungkook blinks repeatedly, completely aghast. But he doesn’t think— just moves, bolting down the street. His thick leather boots slam against the wet pavements as he runs, his dark hair blows in the air, his skin covered in a layer of sweat as he weaves past a fallen trash can and then a body, his breath ragged as he tries not to slip on the broken glass. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins too strong to even feel his body protesting.

Rounding a corner, he nearly collides into another person, but his hands instinctively come up to push them away, almost knocking them to the ground. He doesn’t have a space in his mind to think about it or time to dwell on it. His body acting on autopilot. The more he runs, the more people seem to be running in the opposite direction. Away from something. His legs burn as he sprints faster, but coming off onto the main street of Jongno, he comes to a halt as he takes in the state of the streets, pupils blown as something terrible dawns on his expression.

The city is in shambles.

Everything.

Chaos.

Cars sit abandoned in the middle of the road, their doors flung open, some have crashed into street lamps and traffic signs, into each other at intersections, even buildings, the smoke clouding up into the dark sky. Blending with the red and blue of wailing sirens. People are everywhere. Hundreds of people are running in all different directions — some screaming, some covered in blood, some sobbing and some seemingly unmoving on the ground. Pushing and tripping against each other, running, but most don’t even know what they’re running from, simply following the crowd. 

How many more of those rabid people were there? How far had this spread? 

He wants so badly to be wrong, but something deep inside him tells him this is something big.

He stills for an instant, trying to orientate himself. He scans the street hurriedly for the best route to avoid getting stuck in a crush, to avoid more of those things…but all he sees is the panicked chaos spreading by the second. 

Jungkook feels like he’s outside of his body, like this is a dream, a nightmare he’ll wake up from any second now. He closed his eyes for a second and inwardly prays for it to be just a bad dream. But the air is thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, and the pounding in his chest is too real. The world around him still screams, set aflame.

This can’t be real.

This…this can’t be happening.

Just a few meters away from him two figures wrestle on the ground — except one of them isn’t fighting back anymore, and the other is hunched over them, their head buried in the victim’s throat. Jungkook staggers back, his stomach lurching at the gut wrenching sounds of someone being mauled alive, bile burning the back of his throat when he watches infected pulls back, large chunks of flesh dangling from its bloody mouth, dripping crimson.

The truth slams into him, but his mind is till fighting to accept it.

People are killing people. Eating people. Except…they're not people. They’re monsters.

Jungkook scans the crowd for an escape route, desperate. After a moment, he catches sight of the least crowded street, it's right on the way to his place. He takes a sharp breath and runs, runs non stop down a dozen blocks. But as he navigates the frantic roads, he spots something as he runs past a small street. Stopping him in his tracks. He notices a tiny figure huddled up alone at the beginning of an alleyway, wearing bright pink, shoulders trembling and hands pressed over her ears as she sobs violently. 

A child, no older than three or four if Jungkook had to guess. He halts, heart pounding as he registers her small frightened face, streaked with tears. 

He should keep running, he knows he should. His body is urging him to just keep moving, his insides shaking with adrenaline. That’s not his responsibility. He hasn’t stopped for anyone. But the burning images of what he’s just witnessed flash fresh in his mind. And something deeper roots him in place. Something inside him twists, snaps almost, an unfamiliar instinct that overrides his own confusion and fear.

Ah, fuck it. 

Before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing, he rushes into the alley, approaching the child cautiously with slow steps as he gets closer. He crouches down to her level, looking over his shoulder nervously. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is gentle but hurried as he searches her face. “Where are your parents? Are you lost?”

The small girl just looks up at him with large, wet eyes and a trembling pout, her hands balled into tiny fists. She doesn’t answer, just stares, whimpering and hiccuping softly, like she’s been warned to not talk to strangers — especially not ones clothed head to toe in black, covered in tattoos and piercings like himself. He glances around, hoping to see someone rushing towards them, any sign of this child's parents so he can just hand her over and run, but there’s nothing, just the crowd at the end of the alley pushing past in frantic waves and yelling, no one stopping to even look in their direction. 

He has to do something.

“Do you…where did you see your parents last-” a loud metal bang echoes in the distance, making Jungkook and the child flinch, a heavy breath escaping him. Fuck, his mind races as he realizes she’s truly alone. The girl just sobs more and he curses under his breath, eyes pressed shut as his mind scrambles for what to do.

He can’t just leave her alone in whatever the hell this is. But what the hell is he supposed to do?

“Uh, alright,” he coughs, throat dry, and speaks softly but hurriedly, trying to mask his unease as he reaches out his hand. “Come with me. It’s not safe here. I’ll… I'll help you find your parents.”

He’ll take her home, get her out of danger and call the police. That’s what he should do. 

It’s the right thing to do.

Okay. 

He hopes she knows he’s only trying to help. God, his pulse races every second he’s standing here still. They need to move. Now. She just stares at him, uncertain, then slowly reaches out with her tiny fingers, clasping his much larger hand with a surprising grip. She must see past his intimidating exterior, or be so terrified that she’ll take up any offer of being reunited with her parents, either way, her innocence makes Jungkook's heart sting a little. He can't just leave a child out here, he has to help her before something terrible happens to her or she falls into the wrong hands. He doesn't know what the hell to do, all he knows is they have to run, run right now and get away from this, and-

Suddenly, a piercing, desperate voice breaks through the havoc of noise, loud enough to catch Jungkook's attention.

“Jieun!” 

The sound makes his entire body lock up, his heart jumping in his chest as he turns toward the voice. 

Running towards him, just feet away, eyes filled with worry and tears, he sees you.

Jungkook feels the blood drain from his face. 

For a split moment, the world seems to fall silent. The noise, the screams and chaos, the sirens — all of it blurs into a distant hum in the back of his mind. He feels like the air is knocked straight from his lungs as he slowly takes in your face, a slightly more matured version of a face he once knew every inch of, a face he’d buried away along with every memory he’d tried so hard everyday to annihilate ever since you disappeared from his life. A face he could never forget, not even after four painful years.

It can’t be.

No, no, no-

But it’s real, because there you are. Lunging forward and arms out reaching for the little girl beside him with thick tears of relief flooding from your eyes. The child lets go of Jungkook's hand instantly and her tiny feet pat across the concrete as she launches herself into your embrace, leaving him behind to watch, frozen and stone cold like a statue. 

“Mommy!” She cries.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. He thinks he's going to throw up.

He must’ve heard that incorrectly.

Mommy? That child is…

He feels like he can’t move, blood cold as he watches you crumble to your knees, gathering the little girl into your arms with a grip that looks suffocating, as if she might disappear into thin air again. Your whole frame trembles as you hold her close, relief pouring from you in loud, choked sobs, your fingers getting tangled in her wet hair as you comb though it desperately.

That’s.. your child?

“Jieun, oh my god, baby. You’re here, you’re okay,” your voice cracks with all the pain your body just underwent, whispering against her temple. “Are you hurt? You’re not hurt are you, baby?”

The last thing you remember is being in the convenience store when the chaos began. When you walked out you had no choice but to run into the crowd. How Jieun was holding your hand and in the blink of an eye, her hand slipped from yours. You turned back, screaming her name, but she was gone, just another small figure lost in the stampede of a city falling apart.

By the time you fought your way out of the crowd, Jieun was nowhere in sight. Your heart is still hammering loudly between your ribs, mind stuck on the past horrifying minutes since she disappeared from your side.

But as you finally look up… all your relief shifts, eyes darkening with shocking realisation that mirrors the expression in the man standing just feet away when you. Heart hammering in your chest as if it recognized him before your eyes do.

You blink once, twice to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Completely distraught.

If Jungkook thought he was stuck in a bad dream before, he’s certain now this is all a cruel, sick and twisted nightmare. He feels his stomach churn. The weight of clashing emotions and utter disbelief thrown over him. So many questions he can’t yet voice crashing into him like a bucket of ice cold water, making his blood run cold.

This has to be some kind of sick joke. 

All of it. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice trembles, barely a whisper, as if the sound of his name out loud might shatter you to pieces.

He’s standing in front of you, drenched from the rain, his wet dark hair hanging messily in his face — so much longer than it used to be. He has new piercings on his face, and his features have definitely matured. He looks…different, yet somehow exactly how you remember him. His big dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel your world stop. 

“Y/n?” His voice cracks slightly, like he’s just been punched in the gut. “Wh…what are you doing here?” but there’s no anger in his voice, just confusion, and perhaps, a hint of something painful. His words hang heavy between you, getting lost in the sounds of the burning city beyond this tiny street, and you feel a paralysing weight on your chest. Your mind reeling beyond comprehension.

You open your mouth to speak, ready to say something, anything. But you feel like you’ve forgotten how to form words. So you close it again, no words come out. His eyes flicker from your face to the little girl clutching your side, and you feel a pit sinking in your stomach. God, please no.

This can’t be happening — not here, not now. 

Not like this.

You want to bolt, to run and not look back like you always do. You wish the earth would just swallow you entirely. But all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding faster in your chest, mouth dry.

You try to step around him, desperate to move forward, to escape this horror. But before you know it, his hand catches your arm. He grips you gently, but with a force that indicates he won’t let you slip away again. His touch almost makes you fall to your knees.

“Come with me.” 

Your body stiffens at his words, and you swat your arm loose of his grip. You lift Jieun into your arms instinctively, fingers curling around her small body as if the mere act of holding her can shield you from everything. From him, from all the pain, from all of this living nightmare.

“No,” you say, the word coming out broken, like your breath is caught. “I can’t go with you. I need- I need to get hobi-” 

“My apartment isn’t far,” he cuts in, not giving you space to say more. “We need to get off the streets.’’

You hesitate, watching his gaze scurry between you both again. Everything in you is telling you to just run, to put as much distance as you can between yourself and Jungkook. Willing this conversation to die before it can even begin. Before he can start asking questions you’re not ready to answer. Before you have to face things you’ve already buried deep. Before it’s too late.

You need to leave. But Jieun is shaking, clutching onto you for dear life as she whimpers against your chest, and the sounds of screams still ringing in your ears. And there’s infected everywhere. You’re stuck in the middle of a warzone, and you have no idea what to do, no idea where to go.

All you know is you need to get Jieun out of this. Away from danger.

“Have you not seen what the fuck is going on? People have gone fucking insane!” His tone grows harsher now, trying to knock some sense into you. “We need to move.”

A gut wrenching scream echoes from somewhere beyond the alley, closer than before this time. Too close. 

Jungkook swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair, torn between a storm of brewing emotions and the immediate danger closing in. His jaw tightens as he looks behind him then back to you. “Y/n, we need to go. Now.”

You shake your head violently, and you can feel hushed tears burning behind your eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t think clearly. All you can feel is Jieun trembling in your arms.

“Please-” his voice drops, raw and desperate. Almost a plea.

And don’t know when or why it happens, but the next thing you know, your feet are moving. You’re running with everything you have left in you.

Somehow, the world is ending, and you’re allowing yourself to be guided by Jungkook down streets devoured by chaos, heading to the only safe place around you. 

His home.

➵ taglist: @amatun28 @ahgasegotarmy116 @knjs95s @jeoncookiebar @badaspice @lachimolalajeon @tearykth @lovingkoalaface @jcrl99 @hellbornsworld @mortqlprojections @xumyboo @honeymeraki @justanarchiveforfics @iamnotdrunk420 @iveivory @k-p0p-4ever @jksjx @yoonberriez @lotustv @hannahmae18 @eclipsethemagic @bybyash @rjooniesdimples @minimoninini @satisfied18 @pinkpunkdynamite @jheneeko @sungiesworld27 @neuviloved @somehowukook @iohwa-com @lola75111 @hanversace @ot7even @rie-pdf @futuristicenemychaos @chl0buggy @happycheesecakedelusion @busanbby-jjk @minyoongi7016 @stellamalonesolaria @qyurryus-m @ex7stance @dchimminie

[xylatox]

February 2025 Fic Recommendations!!

a/n : 2nd fic recs for the year!! February had so many good reads oh my goodness. As always, please support the authors and any of their other works by reblogging, liking and sharing a comment!! :)

My goal for March is to definitely consume more Seventeen and Ateez fics :3

☆ - series ♡ - one-shot

Tomorrow x Together

♡Seven Minutes In Heaven | @yunverie

w.c. - 3.9k

pairing - txt x afab!reader

♡The Slow Surrender | @dawngyu

w.c. - 24k

pairing - chaebol husband choi beomgyu x wife chaebol fem!reader

synopsis -The fear that you’re losing something you never truly had. Your own ring, now too heavy in your palm. A ring that should have meant forever. Your deepest fear. Your husband.

♡flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard | @bamgyuuuri

w.c. - 10.5k

pairing - stranger!yeonjun x fashiondesigner!reader

☆Criminal Conscious | @beomiracles ~ongoing

w.c. - 34.2k+

pairing - criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader

synopsis - moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder.

☆this is what slow dancing feels like; pt1, pt2 | @pagelets ~completed

w.c. - 10.2k + 10.6k

pairing - taehyun x reader

synopsis - Kang Taehyun had always dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer, but his conservative father never allowed him. On his 20th birthday, his mother gifts him with a flight ticket to Paris so he can pursue his dream of joining the Académie Internationale de Danse. Getting into the academy is already a challenge. Surviving in it is even harder. In an attempt to be cast in his favorite ballet production, Taehyun decides to bet all his chips on a rigid, and experienced ballerina— you. On a journey of self growth, not only as a dancer but also as a person, can Taehyun count on you? Or will his big chance slip through his fingers?

♡Kiss Of Death | @beomiracles

w.c. - 3k

pairing - reaper/entity!taehyun x gn!reader (written with fem in mind)

synopsis -“Can you grant me one more wish?” You don’t expect him to oblige, you don’t expect anything at all, in fact you would have been content with even a small twitch of his brow. But the man doesn’t say anything, instead he merely watches you, an almost expectant look striking his features.  You inhale, holding that last dying breath for a second before letting go. “Can you… Can you kiss me?”

♡For Lovers | @yeoningz

w.c. - 1.8k

pairing -kang taehyun x fem!reader

synopsis - you've never had to call out your safeword before, but during a rough punishment taehyun takes it too far. luckily, he's right there to pick up the pieces when you fall apart.

♡Just A Game? | @yunverie

w.c. - 9.5k

pairing - Elite Shooter! Choi Beomgyu x Elite Shooter! afab!reader

synopsis - a continuation of Beomgyu’s Seven Minutes In Heaven

♡A Slice of Temptation | @gyu-tori

w.c. - 5.6k

pairing - idol!taehyunx fem idol!reader

synopsis - What was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted filming for your idol segment quickly turns into something far more nerve-wracking when you're assigned to interview Taehyun for his birthday. But the real surprise comes after filming, when he invites you to his dorm to "celebrate properly." Alone. Tension lingers in the air, thick and undeniable, until he finally decides to break it—one taste of sweetness at a time.

♡checkmate! | @4nyangnyangz

w.c. - 4k

pairing - best friend!taehyun x fem reader

synopsis - it was supposed to be just a normal hangout for you and your best friend, Taehyun until the both of you decide to add a little twist to the game of chess that you were playing, uncovering hidden truths and removing a piece of clothing with each loss. the game leads to the both of you revealing unspoken desires and dealing with the suffocating tension between you. a certain turn of events causes the both of you to discover that your friendship may evolve beyond platonic boundaries.

♡Sweatshirt Snuggles | @sxmmerberries

w.c. - 783

pairing - yeonjun x reader

synopsis - cuddling with your boyfriend, yeonjun, wearing his favourite panda sweatshirt to chase away your fever

♡The Great Valentine Heist | @gyutori

w.c. - 5.2k

pairing - highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis - On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

☆In Between the Lines | @frozenmxngo ~ongoing

w.c. - 38.2k

pairing - beomgyu x selective mutism fem!reader

synopsis - y/n, a university student with selective mutism, finding solace in solitude. when beomgyu, a curious music student, starts noticing her, their paths cross, and he learns to navigate her silence.

♡blue hydrangeas | @bamgyuuuri

w.c. - 29.7k

pairing - academicrival!taehyun x fem!reader

synopsis - in a world where soulmates are tied by "soulblooms," flowers that manifest on the hand when touched by fate’s match, you have spent your life with an empty wrist and a guarded heart. but when a fleeting touch with taehyun—a boy you find insufferably perfect—awakens a blue hydrangea on your grasp, everything you thought you knew about fate, connection, and him, turned on its head.

♡Rain Lilies | @dawngyu

w.c. - 20k

pairing - soulmate idol choi beomgyu x soulmate fem!reader

synopsis - Sitting at parties surrounded by lovers, a silent third wheel at movie nights, the friend holding the camera at weddings—your hands are always... alone in the spaces where others are full. Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn’t really… exist. That’s how you ended up here, standing beside your korean-pop-obsessed friend who practically dragged you out and swore you’d love the show. It all became a blur when your eyes met his. He’s on stage, gripping the mic impossibly still, staring down back at you like he feels it too. He shouldn’t be real.

♡Red Poppies | @gyutori

w.c. - 14.2k

pairing - florist!hueningkai x fem!reader

synopsis - When soulmates are found in dreams, your nights remain empty—until someone with a broken bond helps you search. As dreams clear, unexpected feelings emerge. Are soulmates really just predestined, or can fate change mid-course?

♡Daffodils | @yunverie

w.c. - 22k

pairing - bestfriend!choi soobin x afab!reader

synopsis - In your world, soulmates were bonded through a twisted trial of love and flowers. It was pretty simple, once the bond is awakened, fate chooses one of them to bear the roots of the flowers in their chest, while the other bore the mark of the same flower on their skin. The flower tattoo blooms with colour when the soulmates accept their bond, and petals in the lungs recoil, fading away. Soobin loved you—so fiercely, so tenderly—that it rewrote the boundaries of his existence. You made flowers bloom within him, vibrant and alive, yet laced with quiet devastation. As the petals took root, slowly consuming him, he clung to the beauty of it all, for what is love if not the sweetest kind of ruin?

♡The Archive | @dawngyu

w.c. - 13k

pairing - choi soobin x reader

synopsis - "Here. Please read each clause carefully dear."

The papers were handed in your hands, making your heart pound, each beat a hammer striking painfully inside your ribs. Your fingers tremble against the pen, gripping it so tightly your knuckles ache, but the pressure doesn’t help you—nothing ever will. Your eyes trace the final lines, the words smudging under the sting in your eyes.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory:

☐ Yes ☐ No

♡casual (pt1) & guilty (pt2) | @bamgyuuuri

w.c. - 1.7k + 8.6k

pairing - choi yeonjun x reader

synopsis - When the lines between being casual or something more blur, what was simple now aches, and every touch feels like a promise neither of you can keep. as you try to leave, his silent pull drags you closer, and you’re both left questioning if you can ever walk away.

☆Waltz of Words | @yunverie ~ongoing

w.c. - 17.6k

pairing - Nobleman!Chou Beomgyu x Noblewoman!Afab!Reader

synopsis - Your heart and mind seek him for reasons no words could describe—an irony not lost on you, a writer, a weaver of words. And yet, when it comes to him, even you fail to stitch together the language to explain his existence in your life.

♡The Terrible Half-Truths of the Undead King | @hyukascampfire

w.c. - 15.5k

pairing - reverent!yeonjun x human!fem!reader

synopsis - The undead walk among the living for one reason, and one reason only. The Kingdom of Aethera is no stranger to this certainty, not unused to a world of whispered tales come true, and certainly not to the strange and wicked. But, there are none more wicked than The King Undead. Leader of The Wild Hunt and answering to none other than himself, what are you to do when Yeonjun’s curiosity lands on you?

♡Bound By Blood And Vengeance | @luvsicktyun

w.c. - 30.1k

pairing - witch hunter!heeseung x witch!reader

synopsis - In the kingdom of Aethera, the shadows whisper tales of revenge, betrayal, and forbidden magic. A cunning witch with a flair for deception, has spent years honing her craft for one purpose: avenging her parents’ deaths at the hands of the King. Disguised as a visiting princess from a distant realm, She charms her way into the castle, weaving lies and illusions to mask her true intent—murdering the king. Her plan is flawless, or so she believes, until she crosses paths with Heeseung, the brooding captain of the royal guard. Tasked with protecting the "princess," Heeseung finds her insufferable, too sharp-tongued and confident for his liking. But as they’re forced to spend time together, her wit begins to spark something deeper in him, despite his better judgment.

♡The Siren's Call | @thetxtdevil

w.c. - 4k

pairing - Siren!Soobin x Human/Fish!Reader

synopsis- The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.

♡with wings of wax and thread | @biteyoubiteme

w.c. - 19.6k

pairing - angel!huening kai x demon!fem!reader

synopsis - In the kingdom of Aethera, an angel is pushed from the heavens. Wings torn and feathers spilling, he finds himself in the den of a demon who wishes to have never been found. Long having lived with your own fall from grace, wingless and bloody just as he is now, you help stitch back up what once was. Can nurtured understanding be crueler than nature?

♡Of Snow And Shattered Wings | @beomiracles

w.c. - 14.1k

pairing - dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f)

synopsis - Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝

Enhypen

♡No Doubt | @jakesimfromstatefarm

w.c. - 23.7k

pairing - jake x f!reader

synopsis - struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

♡The Dollmaker | @jjunbug

w.c. - 14.8k

pairing - park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis - you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

♡Bubblegum | @babeyun

w.c. - 11.9k

pairing - college student!yang jungwon x fem!candy shop attendant!reader

synopsis - from raspberry sour belts to strawberry crème filled chocolates, you know jungwon like the back of your hand...when it comes to candy. he's far deeper than meets the eye.

♡The Only Gift That Matters | @gyutori

w.c. - 6.4k

pairing -Pairing: idol!jungwonx fem!reader

synopsis -After his final tour performance, Jungwon expects a simple celebration—until he walks in and finds you waiting for him. With the help of his meddling members, you’ve flown across the world to surprise him on his birthday, turning an ordinary night into one he’ll never forget.

♡Symphony Of Us | @heartsriki

w.c. - 4.6k+

pairing - Jay x fem!reader

synopsis - As music majors in college, You and Jay have always been seatmates in class—passing notes, sharing playlists, and teasing each other between lectures. But when you get paired for the annual Valentine’s Open Mic Night, your usual banter turns into long practice sessions, late-night coffee runs, and a song that sounds a little too much like a love confession.

♡Cookie Cutter | @luvsicktyun

w.c. - 2.8k

pairing - jungwon x fem!reader

synopsis - making valentines day cookies for the members with Jungwon

♡loving you is forever | @hoonieyun

w.c. - 16.5k

pairing - lee heeseung x reader

synopsis - after a one night stand leaves you with a lasting memory of the boy you left behind in the name of your daughter, heejin. you finally decide that it was time to move back home to south korea after living abroad for the last 5 years. reuniting with your old friends was everything you could've wished for as they welcomed you and your daughter; but you don't think you could ever prepare yourself to face the father of your child.

☆the truth untold; pt1, pt2 | @just-nc-tea ~completed

w.c. - 31k + 36.8k

pairing - hockeyplayer!Jake x fem!reader

synopsis - Jake’s world takes a nosedive when he gets a wedding invitation from his high school ex—the same ex who cheated on him—with your ex. Desperate to avoid showing up alone Jake ropes you into a fake relationship, just for the evening. Originally. But if you’re going to sell the lie, you have to make it convincing. That means dates, inside jokes, learning the little details about each other that real couples would know. By the time the wedding arrives, neither of you are sure where the act ends and the truth begins.

♡To Fly or To Fall | @gyu-tori

w.c. - 16.4k

pairing - highschooler!heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis - You were the perfect student, always silent and disciplined, blending into the background where no one can see the weight of your father's expectations or the silence of your mother. When you're paired with Heeseung, a carefree troublemaker who seems to notice everything about you, your world escape from the suffocating cage you've been living in. But when your defiance leads to consequences you never expected, you must face a choice: stay in the cage, or take a chance on freedom, even if it means risking everything.

♡The Marriage Law | @enhaflixer

w.c. - 20.5k

pairing - Park Jongseong x Reader

synopsis - A Marriage Law was the last thing you expected to dictate your future, let alone shackle you to Park Jongseong. A pureblood heir, painfully composed, infuriatingly good at everything, and—unfortunately—now your husband. What starts as reluctant cohabitation, filled with awkward silences and sharp words, slowly unravels into something neither of you can ignore. Stolen glances, fleeting touches, and the illusion of normalcy turn into a dangerous game neither of you meant to play. Is it all for show? Or has the line between pretend and real already disappeared? But love alone isn’t enough to erase the past—or the law that forced you together. As the Ministry looms over your every move, and whispers of rebellion grow louder, you and Jay must decide: fight the law, or fight for each other.

♡Raspberry Stains | @biteyoubiteme

w.c. - 18.5k

pairing - vampire!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis - left alone on the streets of your small village you are offered the opportunity to trade your life for only a small price to pay. You are given to vampire prince sunghoon who has not had a taste for blood for almost a lifetime. Not because he does not feel hunger but because he has not found the one that temps him.

♡harvest of purity | @fangel

w.c. -29k

pairing - sunghoon x reader

synopsis - in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.

♡where bluebells meet | @rumoonstruckyet

w.c. - 31.2k

pairing - rivaltofriend!jungwon x fem!reader

synopsis - for years, you’ve been on a constant stream of debates with student council president yang jungwon. and although you didn’t exactly hate him, you weren’t fond of him either—especially of your teachers’ decision to team you up for two projects—in your graduating year, of all times. so as you started working, why were your arguments now reduced to an air of awkwardness and...a blossoming friendship?

♡When Cameras Stop Rolling | @gyu-tori

w.c. - 21.1k

pairing - actor!sunghoon x aspiringdirector!reader

synopsis - When the cameras stop rolling, the world still watches. You’ve spent years behind the scenes, dreaming of the day you’ll call the shots. Then there’s Sunghoon—an untouchable star, distant yet impossibly captivating. To him, you’re just another face in the crowd—until tension sparks and walls crack. When love and ambition collide, will either of you risk it all?

Seventeen

♡The Xu Minghao Dilemma | @shuaflix

w.c. - 20.6k

pairing - xu minghao x fem!reader

synopsis - like most film students, you find yourself experiencing the worst creative block of your life when you're tasked to film a documentary for your final project. enter: your old childhood best friend turned stranger, xu minghao—an (incredibly handsome) ex-dancer and barista who just might be the spark of inspiration you need to make the best film of your academic career. on the flip side, minghao needs this film to win him the scholarship that lets him dance again. despite all, your circumstances don't stop your old, repressed feelings for minghao from resurfacing.

☆the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend; pt1, pt2 | @bitchlessdino

w.c. - 12.5k + 29.5k

pairing - office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader

synopsis - In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now.

♡Cinnamon | @daechwitatamic

w.c. - 19k

pairing - mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while

synopsis - You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

♡Fake It Til You Make It | @diamonddaze01

w.c. - 18k

pairing - boo seungkwan x f!reader

synopsis - You could honestly throttle Seokmin right now. Of all the half-baked, caffeine-fueled ideas he’s ever had, convincing the entire office that you and Seungkwan—your sworn nemesis and parking spot thief—are madly in love might just take the cake.

♡muddled hearts | @haologram

w.c. - 24k

pairing - bartender!xu minghao x fem!waitress!reader

synopsis - things take a turn for the better when you finally find a roommate to escape your incredibly overpriced apartment, but you don't expect to ruin the only relationship that matters to you in the process.

♡Fires of Faith | @jakedustry

w.c. - 29.2k

pairing - Wonwoo x reader

synopsis - You can’t put out fire with fire. But you can combine them, and watch the place burn down in front of your eyes. The demon king realized that when he watched his son dethrone him. He should have never sent him on the mission in the first place. If he hadn’t, he could have kept his son’s fire under control. 

Ateez

☆mountebank chem | @jensthwa ~completed

w.c. - 64.5k

pairing - rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.

synopsis - The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

[paperdice]

Hii! I saw you write for saiki k, so i was wondering if i could please request Kusuo x foreign reader hcs? Reader is a transfer student from somewhere outside of Japan (maybe australia because i’m australian, but anywhere is fine if you can’t do that 💕), and she (or they, up to you) ends up in saiki’s friend group and they get feelings for each other. If you end up deciding to do this, tysm!! xx

𝐊𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)

"Is it sad that my heart's beating frantically? you give me that look and I'm over the edge."

small note, reader will be Australian for the hcs but it won't be heavily influencing in all the hcs

When you first joined the new school, it was naturally nerve-wracking for you. New country, new culture new everything, it was one scary ride that only made you hope for the best.

Thankfully, you wouldn't be alone much longer, not with the new friends you've made. In fact, one of them had been tugging at your heartstrings for awhile now, and the melody felt right for both of you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Kusuo knew your intentions and how you were rightfully afraid during your first day. He knew how you truly feel, just as he does for everyone else in his life. Your thoughts and feelings were another book for him to read clearly, so why was it he was slowly growing an interest in you?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He's got a sharp mind, he knows himself better than anyone else, or so he thought. He always knew that he wasn't interested in romance and thought he would never feel it due to his psychic abilities. His romance radar seemed to be a little 'nonfunctional' but he didn't care.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ After awhile of getting to know you, he realized he was feeling off when around you. A feeling he didn't recognize was growing within him, and he quickly realized it. In the deepest farthest back of his mind, Saiki understood it had to be a romantic feeling.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He was stung by the idea, though the more time flew the more he was okay with it being towards you. The hidden love you had for him was no secret that you could possibly hide from Kusuo, he observed the gradual blossoming of your feelings for him firsthand.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ When you first arrived, people were curious about your life in Australia and shared their thoughts and comments during your conversations. Although Saiki didn't say anything to you, internally, he was interested in the life you lived before moving.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He knew you snuck in a lie or two about encountering a snake that tried to eat you, or how you threw in scares with exaggerations about the snakes and spiders. Or how overly dramatic you made yourself when addressing the pure hatred felt towards the city of Melbourne, Saiki never knew there was a city in Australia that was heavily frowned upon. And from what he heard in your thoughts, you didn't know why either, not from personal experience that is.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Trying to evoke reactions without ill intent, you seemed friendly. Over time, quirks like these grew endearing to Kusuo. He saw right through your choices more and more, only to find more things about you he liked. So, how is he now that he knows he likes you and you like him?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He definitely looks out for you. Naturally, he knows better than to be a stalker constantly following you around. His abilities underline that idea as useless; though it's not like he'd ever do it. That's why he checks up on what nuisance is bothering you or what future nuisance will be. People do have a habit of barging in on you. You'll never say how tiring it is, so Kusuo does you favors.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He enjoys your new-found company in the friend group, whenever you come around he subconsciously moves more in your direction. You don't like bothering him too much so he doesn't have to worry about you being a problem, he knows you don't wanna make some foolish mistake in front of your crush. Though you don't have to worry, your flaws to him are meaningless.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Sadly Kusuo doesn't get butterflies around you, but being near you disrupts his control over his powers and makes it hard for him to maintain while solving unthinkable problems. This can be frustrating, but he's never been mad at you about it, he can't control his heart after all.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Ever since he developed a crush on you, he has been smiling without even realizing it. It's just a small, soft smile that creeps onto his face when he sees you enjoying yourself with others. Luckily, he manages to catch himself before anyone else notices.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Saiki can't help but be a little jealous if guys are flirting too much with you, he knows you won't accept them however for some reason his mind can't help but feel envy.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ He finds your opinions and morals interesting, internally giving dialogue on breaking down your thoughts and why you might think that way. An unspoken way of his is that he shows he cares about how you think by breaking it down like some analysis.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ If you have any hobbies or interests, he'll take some time out of the weekend to take a look at what's got you all hooked. Music tastes, collections, shows, podcasts literally anything you're into he'll give it a try. The appeal might rub off him, you do have good taste in things, to Saiki that is.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ His crush on you was a secret for a long time, and was almost accidentally figured out by Nendo. That mindless Nendo somehow connected the dots out of nowhere, maybe he saw how Kusuo looked at you, or maybe how close he gets naturally. Whatever the case, Kusuo freaked as Nendo was calling your name. But when you turned, it was just Saiki standing there, you felt crazy..

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ Kusuo has only ever thought of you two being in a relationship as a maybe thought, which says a lot. But he decided that if he truly does want more in the future, he will make a move, a slight one at least. Just for you.

Saiki is such a cutie pie, maybe ill write dating hcs at a later date. Thanks for the request, feel free to return to ask another!

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER ONE series masterlist

SUMMARY II WC: 3k

When a careless spell erases her memories of Theo, he’s left grappling with the pain of being forgotten. As she returns to seeing him as just another Slytherin, Theo must navigate a world where the love they shared no longer exists—at least, not in her mind. But Theo refuses to give up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of the connection they once had.

WARNINGS: angst, fighting, not 100% canon compliant 

DEDICATION

thank you so much to @amiableness for helping me with chapter! i don’t know what i would do without you and giving me motivation to write this! i love you! 🤎

thank you to @mischievousmoony for helping my brain block i was having and helping me with ideas, you’re amazing and i love you! 🫶🏼

"Is the coast clear?" you whisper to Theo, your heart pounding in your chest. Sneaking into the Room of Requirement had always been nerve-wracking, but with the additional new rules Umbridge had enforced and the rising threat of Voldemort, it felt more dangerous than ever. Even more so because Theo was betraying his own house and friends to be here.

Theo takes another quick glance down the corridor, then nods. He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you out from your hiding spot.

You both move swiftly and silently toward the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement appears. You glance behind you, double-checking to make sure no one is following, before Theo tugs you inside.

Inside, the room is already alive with the sound of practicing defense spells. You and Theo head to the corner that has unofficially become your spot. Some of the others still cast wary glances at Theo, unsure if they can trust a Slytherin among them. Only the Golden Trio seems comfortable with his presence.

As you settle in, the adrenaline from sneaking around begins to subside, but your worry for Theo doesn’t. You can’t help but think about the risks he's taking—defying his father's beliefs, lying to his friends, putting himself in danger—all because he believes in making a change. You know how much he cares for them, and it breaks your heart that he's forced to choose between them and doing what’s right.

You shift closer to Theo, your hand resting lightly on his knee, a silent attempt to anchor him. He’s still tense, his eyes sweeping the room as if on constant alert. Instead of reaching for the textbook like usual, he closes it and sets it aside, surprising you.

“I think we both know enough for now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Let’s practice today instead.”

You know the purpose of these meetings is to practice spells, but the thought of doing so in front of your peers makes your stomach twist with anxiety. The fear of messing up or accidentally hurting someone lingers in your mind, making the idea of participating overwhelming.

Theo, ever attuned to your emotions, senses your hesitation. He gently pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll start simple,” he whispers reassuringly, his lips brushing against the side of your head in a tender kiss. “Just a quick Expelliarmus. You’ve got this.”

His warmth and steady presence begin to melt away your nerves, making the idea of practicing a little less daunting. With Theo by your side, you feel like you can handle whatever comes next.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his embrace, already missing the warmth. Moments like these—where you could be close to him without worrying about prying eyes—were rare. Even in the hallways, you could barely walk side by side without Umbridge or Filch barking at you to separate.

You stand, shrugging off your robe to give yourself more freedom of movement, and follow Theo to an open space.

“Alright, you know the movement, and you’ve seen it done. You’ve got this, amore,” Theo encourages, his words ringing with confidence.

Your muscles tense. If you mess up, the spell could do more than just disarm him; it could knock him out. But when Theo flashes that smile—the one that always makes your heart skip—you find yourself believing you can do it.

You take your stance, feeling the weight of the moment as Theo prepares himself, raising his wand as if ready to duel. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and shout, “Expelliarmus!” The spell shoots out from your wand, hitting its mark perfectly. Theo’s wand flies across the room, landing with a clatter as relief floods through you.

Theo’s grin widens as he claps and cheers, “I knew you could do it, tesoro!”

You watch him jog to retrieve his wand, a warmth spreading through your chest. How did you get so lucky to have him? He’s your anchor, the reason you keep pushing forward. He makes you want to be better, to reach higher.

When Theo returns, he places his hands on either side of your face, his eyes shining with pride. “See? You were amazing. Nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.

The kiss is slow and tender, each movement gentle as if savoring the moment. You taste the faint remnants of cigarettes and the sweetness of his breakfast. It’s a kiss that speaks of quiet reassurance, of the bond you share, strong and unwavering.

But then you remember where you are, in front of everyone. You pull back, your lips lingering just a moment longer before you peck his lips one last time, a small smile playing on your face.

“I love you, Theo,” you whisper, your foreheads touching, the world around you fading away as you both savor the closeness of the moment.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

As you and Theo are lost in your own world, Harry is practicing a spell, the weight of the war and the responsibility of training others pressing heavily on him. The stress shows in his furrowed brow as he skims through spells in his textbook, landing on Obliviate, the charm to erase specific memories. Whatever memories Harry wants to erase is up for debate, but he doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of the spell.

With only a quick glance at the incantation, he swishes and flicks his wand, but nothing happens. Frustration builds as he tries again, more forcefully, but to no avail. Sweat slicks his palm, and with a sharp, aggressive flick, his wand slips from his grip.

Sparks fly out, ricocheting off the floor and walls. Harry tries to shout a warning, but it’s too late. The spell rebounds, hitting the back of your head and sending you flying into Theo.

Theo barely reacts in time, catching you as you collapse into his chest, limp and unresponsive. His arms instinctively wrap around you as he kneels, lowering you gently to the floor.

You look as if you’re merely asleep, but your breaths come slow and shallow. Panic seizes Theo as he brushes your hair out of your face, his voice trembling.

“Amore, come on, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his mind racing for what to do.

A crowd of students gathers around you both, their whispers only fueling Theo’s panic. He snaps, his voice a sharp contrast to the desperation in his heart. “Who did this?!” he demands, his eyes wild as they scan the frightened faces.

“It was me, I’m sorry, I—” Harry begins, but Theo is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, his rage palpable.

“You’re dead, Potter!” Theo snarls, his grip tightening.

Fred and George are quick to intervene, pulling Theo off Harry, while Ron helps steady his shaken friend. “Let’s calm down, yeah?” Fred says, trying to reason with Theo. “We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be okay.”

“She better be,” Theo threatens, his voice low and dangerous. He shrugs off the twins and returns to your side, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches your shallow breaths. When someone offers to help, he waves them off, scooping you up in his arms and pushing past everyone, his focus solely on getting you to safety.

Adrenaline courses through him, fueling his every step as he rushes through the empty corridors—thank Merlin—for six floors until he finally bursts into the hospital wing.

He wastes no time, laying you gently on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey turns to scold him, but the words die in her throat when she sees your unconscious form.

“What happened?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.

“She was fine one second, then something hit her head, and she just… collapsed,” Theo says, trying to keep his explanation as vague as possible to avoid suspicion.

“It’s okay, Theodore,” Madam Pomfrey reassures him, her voice softening. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Let me examine her. Just breathe, grab a chair, alright?”

Theo nods, though he can hardly think straight. He watches anxiously as Madam Pomfrey performs a series of diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing as each result comes back normal.

“I’m not finding anything out of the ordinary, Nott,” she finally says, puzzled. “She seems perfectly fine, just asleep.”

But Theo isn’t looking at her. He’s holding your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he wills you to wake up.

“We’ll wait until she comes around, okay? I’ll let you stay with her overnight to keep an eye on things,” Madam Pomfrey says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder before drawing a partition around your bed to give you both some privacy.

As soon as she’s gone, Theo chokes back a sob, his worst fears clawing at him. He knows something is wrong—no one just falls unconscious like that from a spell. He pulls the thin blanket up to cover you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple.

“I love you too, amore. You’re gonna be okay, alright?” he whispers, his voice cracking as he desperately hopes for a response, his heart aching in the silence.

———

Theo stirred awake as he felt a sudden movement beneath him. His eyes opened groggily, his head lifting from where it had been resting on your stomach, his arm still wrapped around your waist. The scratchy hospital wing blanket was a far cry from the soft one you were used to, but Theo had barely noticed, too consumed by worry to care about his own discomfort.

As you rubbed your eyes harshly, Theo blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his own, running a hand through his tousled hair. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, when he heard your voice—sharp, confused.

“Nott? What are you doing here? And why am I in the hospital wing?”

Theo’s heart dropped. The way you said his name—Nott, not Theo, not love—sent a chill through him. He tensed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tesoro, you were hit in the head, remember?” He reached out for your hand, desperate to offer some comfort, but you jerked it away before he could touch you.

“This isn’t funny, Nott! What prank are you and your friends pulling now?” Your glare was like a knife to his chest, cutting deep. Theo’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm even as panic clawed at him. The way you looked at him, the suspicion and anger in your eyes, made everything clear that something was terribly wrong.

“Please, just listen to me—” he started, but the words felt hollow. His worst fears were playing out right in front of him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Theo jumped to his feet and rushed toward Madam Pomfrey, who was just arriving at the entrance to the hospital wing.

“She’s awake, but she’s acting like she doesn’t know me—please, you have to help,” Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. He wasn’t one to beg, not unless it was to you, but now the words spilled out uncontrollably, fear gripping his heart.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, quickly following him back to your bedside. You were sitting up, fiddling with your hands, a deep scowl etched on your face. Theo’s stomach churned at the sight—he knew that scowl too well, but it had been a long time since it had been directed at him.

“Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and calm as she began to check your vitals.

You shrugged, casting a wary glance at Theo, who hovered behind the nurse, his heart pounding in his chest. “I feel okay, just confused about how I ended up here.”

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability, alright?”

You nodded, and Madam Pomfrey proceeded with the standard questions—what year it was, who the Minister of Magic was, what you did yesterday. You answered each one correctly, with ease, but Theo’s dread only deepened with every word. Everything you said lined up, except for one glaring omission—there was no mention of him. Not in any of it.

Madam Pomfrey paused, her gaze flicking to Theo before she asked the question that made his blood run cold. “Do you know him?” she asked, pointing to Theo.

You rolled your eyes and huffed, your irritation clear. “Yeah, he’s Theodore Nott, Slytherin. Which I’m still confused about—why is he here?”

Theo felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. The way you looked at him, the casual indifference in your voice, transported him back to a time before everything had changed—before you had opened your heart to him. It was as if the last year and a half had been erased, and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but the familiar coldness in your eyes made it nearly impossible to breathe.

Theo felt his world collapse around him. He couldn’t stay in that room, couldn’t bear to see you look at him like he was a stranger. As Madam Pomfrey explained to you that you’d been hit in the head and Theo had brought you in, he bolted from the hospital wing, stumbling into the hallway. He leaned against a cold stone column, clutching his chest as panic set in. His heart raced uncontrollably, his breaths shallow and ragged. It was another panic attack, but this time, you weren’t there to help him through it. You didn’t even remember him. All those memories—the ones he cherished most—were gone. And it was all because of Potter.

His vision tunneled, everything blurring except for one thought: Harry had done this. He was the reason Theo’s entire world had been ripped away. And Harry was going to pay.

Theo knew exactly where to find him. He’d memorized Harry’s schedule down to the minute, having spent so much time with you before breakfast as you walked with Hermione and Harry. If he timed it right, he’d catch Harry just before he entered the Great Hall.

As Theo rounded the corner, he spotted the trio ahead. They noticed him too, and he saw the tension rise in their shoulders. But Theo was too far gone to care about what they thought. All he saw was Harry—the cause of all this pain.

Without hesitation, Theo marched straight up to them. His usual calm, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by a storm of raw, unfiltered anger. He shoved Harry hard, sending him stumbling back, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“Nott, let’s talk about this,” Harry started, his voice laced with caution.

“What was the spell, Potter?” Theo demanded, his voice rough with barely contained fury.

“It was an accident!” Harry insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. “It was Obliviate. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her!”

Theo’s hand shot out, grabbing Harry by his robe, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of his breath. A twisted smile played on Theo’s lips as he tightened his grip. “Oh, but I’m going to mean to hit you.”

He drew back his fist, ready to make Harry pay for everything he’d taken from him. But just as he was about to strike, your voice cut through the chaos, stopping him cold.

“Nott, what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, rushing toward them, your eyes flashing with anger.

Harry immediately tried to shield you from the truth. “Trouble, it’s fine, really—”

“No, it’s not fine!” you interrupted, glaring at Theo as you pushed him away from Harry. “I’m sick of Slytherins picking on you-us for no reason!”

Theo felt his heart shatter as he watched you fix Harry’s robe, your attention entirely on his supposed enemy. You had no idea what Harry had done, what he had stolen from both of you.

When you finally turned back to Theo, the disgust in your eyes was a knife to his heart. “You’re pathetic, Nott, and you’ll never change,” you spat, the venom in your words leaving him reeling.

The surrounding students watched in stunned silence, the full weight of what had just happened sinking in. They now understood why Theo had been so close to breaking Harry’s face.

As you turned your back on him and walked away with your friends, Theo stood there, frozen. The disappointment in your eyes, the harshness of your words—it was too much. He felt like he might collapse under the weight of it all. But instead, he just stood there, watching you disappear into the Great Hall, his world crumbling around him.

Your words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep from breaking apart. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, helpless and shattered.

The hallway, once filled with tension, was now eerily silent, the students having scattered. Theo was left alone in the aftermath, cold and hollow, the life drained out of him in those few, terrible moments. You had been his anchor, his reason to believe in something beyond the darkness that had always surrounded him. And now you were gone, ripped away by a single, careless spell.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he finally moved, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t lose you. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring you back to him. And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, he would.

first divider @saradika-graphics

[fleurspun]

Questbound

Summary: A kiss locks the victory of your quest, it's only unfortunate that your quest companion is Luke Castellan—the bane of your existence and ex-lover. Note: I'm back hello hi this time with PJO! I do have Grishaverse drafts to release (someday) but that's for another time!! This is also cross-posted on Ao3 Word Count: 6.9k

In your many years at camp, the best advice you could probably give somebody is not to date another camper.

Not if they’re a fellow counselor.

Especially not if it’s Luke Castellan.

You learned that lesson the hard way years ago, when you were both a lot younger, with spunkier attitudes and clouded minds. It was a relationship wrenched raw with gritted teeth and hushed arguments, emotions clawing at throats and frustration gnawing at the mind. It was nothing short of tiring, and the only remark worth saying was that it wasn't worth it.

(Sort of. You’re a little too proud to admit that you had your fun during the relationship, and that you really did love Luke, or at least loved him to the extent that adolescent teens could. It was carefree and stupid and full of shared, sappy love-sick grins—and that wasn't so bad.

But you were both childish and angry, nonetheless. And that tipped the balance more often than you would have liked.)

Your breakup was a nasty, bitter fallout that screamed and thrashed all the way back down into the depths of forgotten pasts. After that, you and Luke fell into an explosive and rough dynamic of being at each other’s neck at every passing second, which seemed to have attracted attention from the gods above—and because the gods have such a unique sense of humour, one in particular has decided to grant you and Luke a quest.

And quests meant a trip to the attic of the Big House, and a meeting with the hippie-tie-dye Oracle of Delphi.

“Piss off the aunt lately?” Luke sucks at his teeth, ducking under the beams of the ceiling. You can feel his shadow melt into yours when the attic forcibly squeezes the two of you into the walkway cluttered wall-to-wall with quest paraphernalia.

“I didn't. You might have.” you scoff, suddenly a lot more conscious that your back was pressing into his chest, “You did break that poor girl’s heart from Aphrodite’s cabin a week ago. It’s sad, she was sobbing over her barbecue at dinner.”

“Keeping tabs on me, now?” he snickers, “That’s a new low, even for you.”

“I’m going to smack the shit out of you if you don't shut up, Castellan.”

You see Luke at the corner of your eye step ahead of you, giving a theatrical display of zipping his lips shut before snapping into a sleazy grin when you roll your eyes at him.

The Oracle of Delphi finally comes into sight at the edge of the attic, and Luke has to settle a hand across the base of your spine to keep you moving along when you freeze upon seeing the figure. Visiting the Oracle always left an uneasy feeling that settled like sediment at the bottom of your stomach, and Luke knows exactly, despite the low lights of the attic, that you would be picking at the skin beneath your nail.

He taps his finger on your spine to grab your attention, teasing spelled on his face, “Scared, smart girl?”

You swallow thickly before breaking away from his hand, “In your dreams, crook.”

Luke offers you a small chuckle as he anchors his palms on the beams near your head to keep you from bumping into them when you stalk along the attic, wary of the menacing figure right in front of you.

The skeleton is perched near the stained glass window, and silence simmers in the air so thick it almost shrouds your heartbeat in a muffled vacuum. After a few heavy seconds, the Oracle of Delphi slowly creaks into animation. There’s this odd pull of energy surrounding the flimsy skeleton, perfuming a spine-chilling and nerve-wracking pulse into the air, and into whatever summer clothing she had draped over her bones.

“Oracle of Delphi, we’ve come to seek your guidance.” Luke utters, and you cross your arms behind him, observing the decrepit and stop-motion-like movement of the figure. The skeleton encapsulates the feel of the Oracle in a snap of a finger, her arms creaking into animation and her skull snapping to your direction.

There are no eyes in the vessel as of the Oracle, but you can't mistake the sharp stare she gives you as she utters out the prophecy guided by the goddess of love, Aphrodite. And when she does, you feel a burdening weight forming on your shoulders and a thousand prickling needles at your spine. 

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. 

Because to find a “second wind” and bring life and victory to your affairs, the quest from Aphrodite meant that you would have to share a kiss with the Hermes head counselor, your spiteful ex-lover, and the absolute bane of your existence, Luke Castellan.

What a funny joke this was.

—

“Well?” you’re cross-legged atop the ping-pong table, staring accusingly at Luke.

Luke rolls his eyes at you, sharpening his dagger against the wall of the dimly-lit Rec Room, “Well, what?”

The two of you ended up in the counselors’ meeting room just below the attic of the Big House after the prophecy sinked in enough for you and Luke to move down somewhere to confer.

“We’re contesting this with Chiron, aren't we?”

You observe Luke from the table, watching intently as he sighs in frustration, returning the dagger to its leather holster, giving you his full attention now.

“We aren't and we won’t.” he asserts, “And get off the ping-pong table, you’ll break it.”

There’s considerable pressure to his words, but you were never one to back down from his intimidation, so you stand your ground, “I’m going to contest this, Castellan. Whether you like it or not.”

“Under what possible circumstance?” He reasons with slight exasperation, “You know they won't let you contest a prophecy—from Aphrodite—off all gods.”

“It’s a clear case of conflict of interest.” the table creaks, and you heed Luke’s advice to hop off.

“That conflict of interest is a deliberate choice from the goddess. Besides, it’s a kiss. One kiss.” he sighs—you’ve been conferring about the prophecy for a while now, and every second is one wasted on argument instead of preparation, “Do I affect you so much that having me kissing you is such a huge deal? What, afraid you’ll come crawling back for more?”

You squint your eyes at the insinuation.

“The kiss isn’t a big deal for me. I don't care about that, you, and whatever relationship we had in the past.” your voice loses its venomous edge when you see Luke watching you intently through lidded eyes. His gaze is a pressuring expression, as if prompting you to speak more, and your mouth slips beyond grasp when you scoff, “You could kiss me right now and I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Oh shit.

The realization of your statement sinks in the second it leaves your lips. A gasp is stuck in your mouth, and you keenly watch Luke for a reaction.

Luke doesn't shoot his usual retort, taking his sweet time before getting off the wall with a grunt. He walks toward you with a heavy gait, one that echoes in the room as if in mockery of your position.

He finds himself almost between your legs, standing a breath’s width away. Luke chases your gaze when you snap your head the other way.

“Huh,” he smiles, and you feel the sinister intent behind it in your stomach, “Do you wanna repeat that for me?”

There’s a stern look on your face, refusing to budge out of self-preservation and dignity, and he tuts in response, “Look at you. You never change, do you? Pouring out emotion but never committing to it. You’re still all bark and no bite—” he whispers with a rough edge, “Like you’ve always been.”

Luke’s words are an obvious, honest-to-gods ploy. It’s nothing more than plain bait, and he’s waving it in your face to see if he can get you off your high horse and into the ground where he wanted you, and he knows if he pushes this narrative a little further, he can get you to bite down.

You blink, and feel the irritation bubbling, choked into the back of your throat. He didn't have the right to tell you about emotions when he was the one that left after the slightest bit of actual reciprocation.

A second passes and you try to give him a chance to take it back, but he only gives you a cocked eyebrow and a look as if impatiently waiting for your verdict.

He persists, and you huff before staring at him straight in the eye with a burning defiance. 

Luke thinks, oh, 

He’s fucking got you.

A sharp finger jabs itself into his chest, and Luke finds it exhilarating to have you on your toes, “I said,” the tone of your voice is as tense as a rope pulled taut, “You could kiss me right now, and I wouldn't do so much as bat an eye.”

Your pride is deadly as it is precarious—this is affirmed when Luke plants his palm on either side of your figure on the table, stepping an inch closer to where he has to crane his neck down to keep you in his sight in response to your dispute.

Luke leans his head forward, the mocking grin etched right in his mouth, “You’re sure?”

You aren't, but you’ve gone so far now that retracting your sentiments is equivalent to admitting complete defeat.

And defeat to Luke Castellan was a defeat you could never stomach. 

So you persist.

“Try me.” you lift your chin as if to push him further to do what he’s been threatening to. You decide there was a large chance of Luke bluffing, so you prompt, “You don't have the balls to do it, Castellan.”

The heartbeat in your ribs thrums and pounds at your bones, a clear display of your body knowing that you should run before anything untoward happens, but your burning pride keeps your feet planted on the ground.

Luke is the closest he’s ever been since you broke up, head slanted into place with his mouth just above yours. The position is familiar, and you hate that you feel it in the pit of your stomach; Luke was so terribly close. He studies your most miniscule of movements, eyes wandering and lingering on your jaw, your neck, and your lips.

The action is an arrogant, self-assured display of power, fueled by the slight, unwanted flush on your face ignited by the suffocating proximity and the sandalwood perfume on his neck—and when he tips closer, it hits you that maybe Luke wasn't bluffing at all.

So, you do the next best thing after realizing you backed yourself into a corner: you close your eyes and wait for Luke’s mouth on yours.

…

Except, it never comes.

You peek your eyes open with a slow wind, Luke has a smug satisfaction written all over his face. He slips his mouth just above your ear, breath hot and searing when he whispers, “Liar.”

You swallow your dignity into your stomach at the realization that he just humiliated you to your face, and you whisper back at him with a hardened gaze, “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead, you damn crook.”

“Do your best, sweets.” the endearment is an offensive spit in your face. Luke takes a step back before stretching his limbs with a faux yawn as he walks to the door, “Good luck with the contention. Let me know how it goes.”

—

Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

He knows you inside out, from your oddly niche allergies, to the callouses you have on your fingers because you used to compete in unauthorized, handwritten poetry competitions with the campers from Apollo, Demeter, and Aphrodite before Chiron shut it down.

(The poetry competitions somehow turned into betting games, which were also unsanctioned.)

He knows you’re just about the most brilliant strategist at camp, as proven by the quest paraphernalia displayed in the attic that you’ve managed to snag along the way, but you let the younger campers like Annabeth hone their skills and take center stage during camp games.

He knows you have marks on your neck that map out the shape of the Lyra constellation, traced from your neck down to the bottom of your collarbone, and he knows, by heart, how long it takes to kiss the stars, one by one, before you give out on your knees.

Most of all, Luke knows that when you despise somebody, you despise them with a burning hatred that singes and ignites everything around you with charring smoke and flame. 

And that’s what he exactly gets for being the ex from a relationship felled by a spiteful fallout: your loud hatred, concentrated resentment, and your sweet, sweet unbridled attention in the quest.

Frankly, Luke supposes having your attention is worth it, despite being rooted in bad faith and distrust in his actions.

“My feet are killing me.” you suck at your teeth, eyes glued to the thickets, “This route’s going to wear us down faster than Aphrodite could ever do.”

You’ve done nothing but go and complain about Luke’s decisions for the past couple of days, and it’s a deliberate call on your end—being annoying and insubordinate just enough to piss him off, but never too much as to jeopardize the quest and its goal.

To be fair, you were the daughter of a war goddess. Your words held weight, and not to mention considerable influence and accuracy on your calls on strategy and quest location planning.

It was just that you were using your mother’s gifts to piss the hell off Hermes’ kid.

It’s a lure dangled just above his face, just out of reach to push Luke to his very limit. You’re convinced it’s an art form in itself, the act of patience and persistence in getting somebody to break.

But you haven't had much luck, because as the world would have it, Luke knew what you were doing, and decided he wasn't going to give you the slightest bit of satisfaction by displaying irritation.

He’ll do just about anything to keep your eye on him.

“Are they, now?” Luke answers, a few steps away from you. He keeps walking, and when he doesn't hear your feet shuffling behind him, he turns around, “Sore?”

“Deadly.” you groan, rolling your ankles off the ground. In your defense, the trail ahead was rigorous, bumpy, and slippery from the recent rainfall. Not to mention the elevation gain throughout. You had more than enough of a right to complain, “We should’ve just cut through the highway instead of playing hiker.”

There was some truth to your assertion—it really would wear you down, but not so exaggeratedly.

Luke crosses his arms, a usual telltale hint of irritation, but none of it is present in his voice, “And be picked off the asphalt by a rogue Fury?”

“At least a Fury would take the pressure off my feet.” you grumble, and continue walking forward when you realize Luke just wasn't biting down. You look to the sky in an attempt to clear your head.

In your reflections, you fail to notice that Luke’s gone quiet with mischief, and you see your clear fault of letting your guard down when you get picked off the ground and hauled over his shoulder like cattle.

“Castellan—” you gasp, your vision in a whiplash, “What the hell! Put me down!”

Luke secures an arm over the back of your knees, the other one supporting your hip on his shoulder. He speaks to you with no hint of a struggle, “You wanted to put the pressure off your feet, right?”

“And the first solution that came to mind was to carry me on your shoulder?” you say in disbelief, propping yourself up with your arms on his back, “That's not how things work, you freak!”

“You’d rather I carry you in my arms?”

“I’d rather you put me down on the ground!”

“And let you hurt your small princess feet?” Luke coos in a voice so sickeningly sweet, it makes you feel as if nauseous from a sugar rush, “You know I’d never let you do that.”

“Gods, I hate you.” you grumble with a voice hinting resignation. You go limp on top of his shoulder when you realize there’s no point in arguing with him, “You’re the worst.”

“Get used to it.” Luke says, starting to walk the trail into the forest, “The worst hasn't even happened yet.”

“And that’s supposed to be what?”

He taps you thrice on the back of your knee, “I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

—

It’s hard to forget that you and Luke are exes by the way you two fall quickly into a routine when left alone. Despite the rough start to your quest that resulted in petty arguments, derailments, and relentless teasing, your disgruntlement with Luke has sort of fizzled out into something a little more tameable, something malleable under shared snickers and a few will-they-won’t-they situations.

It starts off in treks where he takes your pack without a second thought when your breathing lags a little more than usual because you weren't as physically inclined as you'd like, in moments where you catch him forking away at the raisins in your bread so you wouldn't recoil at the sight, and during slow days when the journey is oddly peaceful, and the two of you wordlessly take detours to see pretty trails that Luke gets a little too excited over.

It ends with Luke falling from a spiraling tree root sprawled on the soil, and with flowering wounds on his hands and face.

“You’re a mess.” 

You frown over the soft orange spires of the campfire, watching Luke with a pitiful red bruise birthed from his own actions. He’s fussing over his own wounds, and he tries, really, to the best of his abilities, but Luke hasn't attended a first aid class from Apollo’s cabin in years—and it’s showing in the way he tries to treat the bloody marks on his face.

“You’re pitiful.” You comment, looking down at his hunched figure over the sprawled kit. It doesn't help that it’s nighttime and he struggles more and more with adequate light without burning himself on the bonfire, “A disgrace. Pathetic.” 

“I’m hurt.” He says, going back to applying an ointment that comes out way too watery because he doesn't know you have to shake it, “I’m hurt and you’re being mean to me.”

You can hear the obvious dramatisation in his voice, evident in the way he draws out his vowels. He’s pitiful and pathetic—just like you said—but for some reason, you find yourself slumped on a log next to him, stealing the balm from his hands.

“Give it to me.” You grit through your teeth, like you’ve been forced to help him by some unknown force, “Best swordsman in 300 years, and he cannot apply healing ointment on himself.”

It’s a comment made under your breath, and when you shake the tube and apply the cream on his arm, you miss the small smile Luke gives you.

The air is so cold with the night air and ripe with tenderness, and the two of you don't miss its hint when you touch Luke’s chin to move his head to the side, applying ointment on the gash lining his cheekbone.

“I’m shocked you’re not even recoiling at this.” You mutter, lathering out a pea-sized amount on his face, “You must hate it so much.”

It’s rare that you strike up a conversation first, but it seems like the intimacy of the moment has gotten to you, so Luke entertains you, “At what?”

“This.” You sign to the two of you, “I’ve done this to you a lot before, but it embarrasses you every time, doesn't it?”

It always started with you having to fuss over him, and with Luke being pissed off—and ended with an fiery argument without fail. 

It was a stupid thing to argue about; but when you’ve just passed the honeymoon threshold of a young relationship, everything felt far too intense far too early.

Luke cannot find it in himself to answer immediately, a little embarrassed by the idea of his past actions, so you pacify the situation by talking, “I get it, you know.” You hum, “I was overbearing, and young, and overexcited.”

“And I was stupid, and angry, and cowardly.” Luke answers, an airy chuckle coming out of his lips, “I think we’re just fair. Actually, I might've been worse.” 

You shrug, keeping your concentration on the gash. Luke’s eyes are peeking at the side, taking a look at you through feathered eyelashes.

“Hey, smart girl?”

A hum of acknowledgment lets him know you’re listening despite the utter focus on his cheek.

“I really was stupid back then for a lot of things, wasn't I?”

You stop momentarily. It’s wordless knowledge, knowing what he’s referring to, but you aren't sure you want to mull it over right now. The moment is too dangerously intimate to dabble in something so sensitive, so you decide to respond by whispering out an “Mhm.” before continuing on.

Luke watches you and your concentrated look, your lips jutted out and your nose in a slight scrunch. He feels like he’ll physically melt at the feeling of your hands cradling his face.

You’re finished with fussing over his wounds, and in a state of effortless muscle memory from all the times you had to do this to him before, your grip on his chin unconsciously angles him to face you, and you move to give him a peck on the side of his lip. 

You’re so precariously near when you catch yourself and jolt into freezing. There’s only a breath’s width between you and him. It leaves you with Luke’s eyes gazing right into yours, eyes as wide as deer in headlights.

You can hear nothing but the crickets of the forest, the crackling of the firepit, and the ring of your slowly accelerating heartbeat. The time stills into a simmering tick.

Luke’s eyes flicker somewhere down in a split-second, and he squints at you, “Were you going to give me a kiss?”

You’re taken out of the trance, and in a flash of panic, quickly push Luke’s face away from yours, “You look horrible up close, Castellan.”

It’s an offhand comment, but Luke doesn't seem to mind when he scoffs out a comment of his own, “Oh please, we’ve made out a lot closer before.”

A red flush comes out of your face, shocked that he would bring up something so old, “And I hated every second of it every single time.”

You didn't—but his ego doesn't deserve to know that.

“If you hated it so much, you’re about to seethe at the next act of our quest,” Luke shrugs, stretching his arms into the ground behind him.

“And that's what, now?”

“Prophecy says you owe me a kiss, remember?”

—

Oh, shit. You forgot about the kiss.

Completely blinded by your deliberate attempts to usurp Luke’s decisions as primary of the quest, you seem to have forgotten the damning condition of your victory—to share a kiss with your past lover.

Simply put, Aphrodite was bored and decided it was time to pair together people who hated each other to death and make them kiss like dolls.

Was it to rekindle buried feelings? Maybe. Was it to drive the offsprings of gods into insanity? Oh, absolutely.

But whatever Aphrodite wanted to achieve by having you and Luke venture out into the world, it still doesn't do so much as change the thoughts plaguing your head for the last few days.

When was this kiss going to happen?

Since leaving the camp, and after that shred of intimacy that night, every passing moment became ripe with untouched tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and a saw. You felt your heartbeat pound into your ear at the times when Luke would pull you close when he knew a creature was watching a little too intently, or when he would sit between your legs and let you fuss over his shoulder to have his minor wounds treated.

Normal occurrences at a quest, but with the prophecy looming over your head like an unrelenting shadow of misfortune, you were always distracted at the thought of: is this it?

Your agitation with the prophecy and your fear at the thought that Luke would smoothen you into kindness put you on edge, and soon enough your composure unraveled like loose threads and your formerly safe antics almost cost you and Luke your lives.

But it wasn't always you making the trip a hassle.

Your heavy, dragging breaths fill the tight brick alleyway just on the outskirts of the city you cut through to make a “harmless” shortcut Luke hounded you into taking, where you caught the attention of a rogue minotaur hungry for demigod dessert. Now, you have burnt soles and a creature hot on your tail.

It was a shortcut no different from the one you had insisted on taking, but Luke reason that the alternative trail was the same amount of time, with less elevation, and with more places to get food and water—but before you could leave, you realized why the town felt a lot more deserted than usual.

Luke pulled you inside the slim space by the arm, clutching you close into his body and angling you away from the mouth of the alleyway. He has one hand clamped over your mouth and the other on the base of your spine, pulling you so intensely near that you can smell his perfume and feel the ridges on his chest.

You hear the minotaur’s guttural growls and heavy gait echoing with a sharp thud, slowly and slowly until it disappears out of earshot. It’s only then that you feel the heartbeat pounding into your bones once the adrenaline runs out of your bloodstream.

You seem to realize the minotaur’s disappearance a lot faster than Luke does, with his hand remaining over your mouth and his body still pressed close to yours.

Oh, he was so incredibly close.

The flush on your face deepens at every single passing moment, your fingers picking at the skin beneath your nails, with your body becoming hypersensitive to every point that touches his, fueled by the force of the two brick walls squeezing the two of you together. His body feels warm from the constant running that led you to this moment, excreting bodily heat that seeps into yours the longer he holds you close. 

When Luke gazes down after ensuring that the minotaur was out of the immediate area, he finds you studying him with a wide set of eyes. He doesn't say anything, mostly because his ego is enjoying the show, watching you stare at his chest, and his arms, his neck, before ending up on his eyes.

You retain eye contact, and Luke cranes his head to your side to check on you. Luke liked getting in close for things he only wanted you to hear, so when he tipped his head down to ask if you were alright, you stalled—like deer in headlights—and panicked at the feeling of his face so close to yours. You break out of Luke’s hold when the panic seeps into your bones, and you stumble onto the open streets.

You crane your gaze to the left—and meet eyes with the minotaur.

—

The hotel off the highway is dingy and obviously seen better (and more graceful) days, with peeling wall paint, dusty carpets, and a receptionist with a mean streak who barely cares for the customers arriving. The ringer on the desk barely makes a sound over her nail file.

She files her nail with a vigorous back-and-forth, the scratching of the material screeching into your ear like nails on a chalkboard. The bright purple of her hair is mirrored by the bubblegum in her mouth, deflating in a scandalous pop when she decides to entertain you.

Well, not you exactly, but the view of the tall, handsome man standing just behind you. Who was, believe it or not, clutching his injured shoulder. 

(Minotaur’s fault; not yours, directly)

You can see the instant attraction in her eyes when it lands on Luke’s figure, and you feel a dull sensation in your ribs.

“Well,” she smacks her lip, looking as if she wanted to undress Luke with her eyes, “Two separate rooms, I hope.”

“Excuse me?” you say, stopping halfway from digging into your bag for the money. 

“Two rooms, right?” the receptionist rolls her eyes at you, dragging her words along the floor. She fetches two keys on the counter but keeps them beneath her palm, batting her eyelashes at Luke, “Hey, you—pretty boy. I’m a pretty good masseuse, you know.”

You press your lips together, holding back the incredulous expression your face is dying to spit out. 

Two customers annoyed and frustrated at each other, looking for a room; one with a bad shoulder, and the other a sleeve catching on a doorknob away from crashing out into misery.

And the damn receptionist decides it's time to snag a quick hookup?

She continues her little show of seduction, leaning over the counter in her slightly-undone button down. There’s venom and honey dripping on her voice, and a bony finger catches itself on her lip, “I can heal that shoulder of yours real good if you let me come up to your floor.”

It’s unbelievable at this point, you decide. You could tolerate this a lot better if you were having a better day, but today was not that, at all.

Your anger, burning hot and bright, slowly becomes slightly clouded by a churning feeling at the bottom of your stomach when you realize you haven't heard Luke answer—nor did you know how he was reacting to the woman at all.

Was he enjoying the attention? Was he considering blowing off steam with her? Did he like it?

Why do you care?

You don't. That’s what you put your resolve on—and there are more serious things to think about, like how you’re on the verge of failure in your quest. He could fool around with anyone, and that wouldn't be your business. It shouldn't be your business.

Whatever turns him productive enough to lead you to completion of Aphrodite’s favor.

Your thoughts are on the verge of collapse, but as if by some wicked timing, the receptionist shakes you out of your trance and pushes you into irritability tenfold when she slips over to you one key.

“Here’s ‘ya room. Leave your boy to me, hm?”

You feel like a kettle, slowly boiling until it’s time to explode and spill over scalding hot insults and lectures about the lack of decency being given. You’re about to start when you feel a chin nuzzled into your shoulder and a hand at your waist.

Luke whispers in your ear, “She’s not worth it.”, staring at the receptionist dead in the eye before exchanging the one key for money.

“Just one room. We’ll be fine, alone.”

The elevator ride is dragging, and you’re standing on opposite sides as if Luke wasn't just clinging on you from the last minute as a response to the flirty receptionist. He looks at the floor with a restrained expression, and you have a flat frown on your mouth. It takes what feels like decades before the carriage reaches your floor.

The doors open into a narrow hall, dimly lit with matching dull carpets from the lobby. Your room isn't in any better shape than the rest of the building. It might be worse when the door shuts and another misunderstanding erupts.

“What happened back there?” Luke asks, his voice pulled taut by tension, but held back by the need to not escalate the situation, “Why did you freak out on me?”

Luke knows you’re keeping something secret, you’ve had a shift in behaviour that he doesn't exactly recognize, but feels familiar all the same.

You keep his gaze leveled to yours, “I’m not the one at fault here, Castellan. We wouldn't have been there if we took the original route.”

“Fine,” he groans, “It was my fault we ended up in that stupid alley in the city outskirts. I didn't factor in why the map wouldn't mark it as a route in the first place. But that’s not what I’m asking, isn't it?”

“What are you asking then?”

“Why’d you freak out on me in that alley?”

“And that’s such a big deal?”

“It’s a big deal because that meltdown of yours cost us an injury, supplies, and now transport money that we have to use on this hotel.” he stalks closer, tone suspiciously clear of malice, “You’re smart. You know we don't have enough time or resources for the quest, no?”

“I know that.” you snarl. You don't even know when you stood up, “Shit happens, Castellan. I can't control when and where I panic.”

“But you can.” he shrugs. You have no idea when he got so close, “I may not know what happened, but I do know you—you’re calm, collected; you hate being driven by emotion and you are Athena’s favourite child for a reason.”

You look away to the side, refusing to make eye contact, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” Luke drawls, as if the answer is staring at you, “Either your skills have downgraded for absolutely no reason at all, and you’ve become a shame of a daughter of a war goddess—or, something else has shook you to your core entirely. Something, or someone. That’s my guess.”

It was true—you were shaken by the prophecy and let the panic from it settle far too deep into your bones, but you were a lot more pissed by the way Luke was speaking to you. As if he knew you from the inside out, and to hell with him thinking that way.

He didn't have the right.

“You wanna know the reason, crook?” Your finger jabs into his shoulder, and you have to look up to his towering height to meet his gaze and get your point across. You were at such a close proximity now, it's as if you could taste the smugness in his voice.

He rolls his eyes, and shrugs mockingly, “Well, don't keep me waiting.”

You let out a good exhale before you postulate.

“The prophecy got under my skin.” Luke senses the tinge of nervousness in your voice, the end of your sentence faltering into a low mutter, “As much as I want to be the perfect quest companion you need so bad, the prophecy that we would have to eventually kiss crawled into my head and won't leave my consciousness since.” your voice tries to remain steadfast, “Every time you’re near, I think about the kiss, and I panic because I wouldn't know what to do with myself and I wouldn't know what to do with you. Happy now?”

You pull out a sharp exhale, “You make me nervous, Castellan. You still make me nervous.”

Luke stares at you like gears are turning in his head, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. The realization of what you just said hits you in the ribs, and you feel as if the oxygen in the room is too little to keep you alive and breathing. You swallow your pride and your embarrassment, wide-eyed and on your toes.

You almost move to ask Luke to say something, anything really, but he cuts you off wordlessly when his hand weaves its way into your hair and his mouth finds its slot against yours.

Time grinds into a halt, and you realize that in all the times you imagined the prophesized kiss in shameful fever dreams and trances, you never expected for it to be this: Luke kisses you like he’s been starving for months. He’s deprived and angry and desperate and moves as if there wasn't anything else he’d rather be doing than to dishevel you in the middle of the room and leave your knees weak and trembling like he used to.

Oh, gods. The kiss is like water,  like a delirious thirst in your bones finally quenched and an itch you’ve been dying to scratch. You’re stunned at first, but find yourself kissing him back just as quick and just as desperate.

“I waited far too long for this.” he rasps into your mouth, tongue swiping on your bottom lip to open your mouth, “Couldn't get my mind off you even when we broke up.”

“Shut up, Castellan, for once.” you breathe out, and Luke can’t help to restrain himself when he smiles against your lips. 

“I tried everything to get close again.” He says in between kisses, “Who knew we only needed a damn quest?”

The two of you are sprawled on the creaking twin-bed mattress, and Luke, despite his bad shoulder, hauls you into his lap with a burning intention to keep you there. His lips trace from pecking at your lips, to nibbling at the skin behind your ear, to tracing down searing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the bottom of your jaw.

“Castellan, I—” you gasp, melting between his mouth and the hand that’s running lines over your hips.

“That’s not my name.” he mutters between kisses, turning you over with your back to the mattress, “Say my name, smart girl.”

If you were in any sort of proper thought, you’d be flushed red and annoyed at Luke for speaking to you this way—but all rationality is thrown through the window when his lips are on your neck.

You swallow your pride, your dignity, and everything in between, “Luke.” it’s a whimper when it comes out, and he pulls you in impossibly closer.

He hums in satisfaction, dropping his head over one of the moles on your neck. Luke gives it a small lick before smoothing it over with a kiss, “Vega.”

To your collarbone, “Sheliak.”

Down to the mole just above your chest, “Sulafat.”

He’s naming the stars in the Lyra constellation, and your mouth lets out a choked moan, “Luke, shit—”

Luke pulls away after one more quick peck, and he doesn't waste time admiring your figure from head to toe. You’re resting against the white pillows, breathing heavily with a disheveled look when he asks, “You good?”

The moment finally sinks into your mind in a panicked, cascading waterfall of information—that you’ve just shamelessly made out with your ex after a frustrating run, and that you were basically pinned against him on a bed.

It’s a wash of fresh, hot shame. Before you can help it, words spill out your mouth in an attempt to save face.

“That,” you blink, still a little hazy from having Luke’s mouth on yours.

“Go on,” He says, patiently, “Take your time.”

“Well, that’s—uhm” you inhale, “—don’t take that personally, Castellan.” you rasp out, trying to hide the weakness in your voice, “That was just for the quest.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you nod cautiously, “We’ve got the prophecy out the way now, haven't we?”

You doubt you were convincing him any more than you were convincing yourself when Luke gives you a sickeningly sweet grin. He’s still pinned over you, like he refuses to be anywhere else.

“Mhm,” he coos, “Sure it was.”

“That didn't mean anything to me.” you repeat, to yourself more than anyone, “And that didn't mean anything to you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Luke shrugs, now falling into the pillows next to you. He closes his eyes, sinking into the bed, “That meant the world to me.

There’s a mixture of confidence and lack of hesitation in his voice, and when you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him, he was disheveled with smeared lip gloss all over his mouth, and he looked the happiest he’s been in days.

“Hear that?” he goads with a lilt that sounds suspiciously like bait, like he’s prompting you to retaliate, “I said the kiss meant the world to me.”

You find it unimaginable to believe him, but when Luke gathers your hands in his and places them against his lips with a soft exhale, you feel your stern resolve melting at every passing second.

“You don't mean that.” Your voice sounds even weaker now, like you’re hanging on by a thread.

“I do. I mean every single word.” Luke kisses your knuckles, softly whispering, “I can prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

It’s scary.

It’s a scary realization to know what Luke’s asking for, and an even scarier realization was the fact that you were willing to give him another shot.

A second wind. Like what the prophecy asked for.

“You’re lucky I tolerate you, you crook.”

In your many years at camp, still, the best advice you could probably give somebody is not to date another camper.

But when you’re tasked to go on a journey with them promising a kiss at the end, maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a chance.

Especially if it’s somebody like Luke Castellan.

“The luckiest alive, smart girl.”

—

“That’s my victory, then, forehead-spawn.”

A sultry voice echoes in Olympus. Aphrodite leisurely fans her face with a smug look, satisfied by the outcome of the prophecy.

Athena gives her nothing but a disgruntled expression.

[terraswallows]

I’m honestly kinda shocked—I’m only 500 followers away from posting my IRL photo of where I’m at in my transition. It still feels surreal that so many people are here, supporting me through this journey.

I might even consider sharing my day 1 to 5-month progress pics, but I’d have to see how people react to this first. It’s a little nerve-wracking, but also kinda exciting? Like, seeing the changes myself is one thing, but letting others witness that transformation too? Feels huge.

[fanficlolsblog]

TASTE

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem!reader x sabrina carpenter

summary: your favourite artist, sabrina carpenter asks you to be in her new music video, ‘taste’, which of course you couldn’t refuse…

warnings: none.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

It was an ordinary Wednesday when an email arrived that made my heart race with excitement. Sabrina Carpenter, one of my favorite artists, was reaching out to me. She wanted me to be in her new music video for ‘Taste.’ I could hardly believe it—I’d been a fan for years, and now I was being given a chance to work with her. I agreed without hesitation.

The day of the shoot arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves and excitement. Sabrina’s team met me at a chic studio, where the atmosphere was buzzing with creative energy. When Sabrina walked in, she looked even more stunning in person. Her smile was bright, and her energy was infectious.

“Hey there!” Sabrina greeted me warmly. “You must be the one I’ve been hearing so much about from my team! It’s lovely to meet you dear.” She takes out her hand for me to shake.

I tried to keep my composure but felt my cheeks flush. “Hi I’m Y/N. I’m so excited to be here. Thank you for inviting me.” I grab her hand, her hands are so soft.

Sabrina’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she shines her beautiful smile. “Of course! I have a feeling we’re going to make a great team.” She says as she shakes my hand and winks at me. My cheeks probably look so read right now… “Let’s go over the concept, shall we?”

We went through the details, and that’s when I learned about the kiss… it was part of a scene in the video where Sabrina and I were supposed to share a moment of connection. My stomach did a little flip at the news. The idea of kissing Sabrina Carpenter was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

As the scene approached, Sabrina came up to me with a playful glint in her eyes. “Ready for our big scene?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

I nodded, trying to stay calm. “Um yeah, I think so.”

Sabrina stepped closer, her proximity sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “It’s just a kiss. Just trust me, okay?”

When the cameras started rolling, Sabrina and I were caught up in the intensity of the moment. We shared a tender, lingering kiss that felt both surreal and exhilarating. I grab ahold of her face pulling her closer. As we pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Sabrina’s warm smile and the way her eyes sparkled with genuine affection. “Wow…”

Sabrina giggles a bit as she lets go of my waist. Shit did i just say that out loud? “Was I that good darling?” I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out as Sabrina walks away from me to her team.

Once filming wrapped, Sabrina walked over to me, her demeanor relaxed and flirtatious. “You were amazing today. I really enjoyed working with you.”

I grinned, feeling a mix of elation and disbelief. “Thanks, Sabrina. It was incredible to be a part of this. It felt surreal,” I say as i slightly laugh. Sabrina grins at me, I swear i see her eyes glimmer again.

She leaned in slightly closer to my face, her voice playful. “You know, we should hang out sometime. I’d love to get to know you better outside of all this.”

My heart skipped a beat. “That would be… great.”

Sabrina reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “How about you give me your number? I’ll text you so we can set something up.”

I quickly gave her my number, biting my bottom lip slightly trying to hide my excitement. “Here you go.”

Sabrina took the number with a smile. “Perfect. I’ll be in touch soon. It was lovely to meet you, Y/N.” She pulls me into a hug.

“You too,” I pull away as she starts to walk away. She turns around to give one last look back and glimmers her pearly white teeth one last time. I smile back to her as she fully turns around to continue walking.

As she walked away, I was left grinning from ear to ear. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, from the thrill of the kiss to the unexpected invitation to hang out. I couldn’t wait to see what would come next.

[cherienymphe]

Ocean Eyes

Austin North x Reader x Drew Starkey

Summary: Your boyfriend and his best friend have a lot in common. For one thing, they both like watching the other fuck you.

warnings: unprotected sex, voyeurism, threesome, mentions of cockwarming, p*rn with a plot

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

⭑

When your boyfriend’s best friend said he wanted to watch one night, you were a little too tipsy to take him seriously, let alone consider the awkward aftermath of such a request. Everyone was drinking and saying things they didn’t really mean or give a second thought to, so naturally you figured the other man was no exception. You let out a light laugh as his words reached your ears beyond the low music, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend from behind.

“You’ll have to ask Austin.”

Your tone was light, words slurring just a tad as you said it before resting your cheek against his back. You could feel the vibration as he laughed, hand reaching up to rest over yours on his stomach. When he threaded his fingers through yours, you lifted your gaze, catching his eye as he glanced over his shoulder. There was a small smirk on his pink lips before he glanced over to the third party in this conversation.

“Yeah, sure,” he lightly said. “Why not…”

It was his shrug and the shared chuckle between the two that led you to believe it was all jokes.

However, an hour and a half later, when Austin was leading you upstairs by the hand—and Drew was only a step behind—you started to think that the conversation wasn’t as lighthearted as you’d led yourself to believe. You gave the other man a weird look over your shoulder, convinced he was just taking a joke too far, but when his blue eyes met yours, there was an excited glint there that gave you pause.

“Wait, you guys are serious?” you finally wondered to your boyfriend, blinking at him with parted lips when Drew followed you both into the room.

Austin’s hands were on your waist as he pulled you against him, chest flush with yours, and you didn’t know if you should blame it on the alcohol, but you couldn’t ignore the excited flip in your stomach when you heard the lock click behind you. The faint sound of music bled through the walls, reminding you of the party still going on downstairs.

“It’s Drew,” was his simple response, shrugging at you like the other man was practically nothing. “Just pretend like he’s not even there.”

Those last words were a whisper as he leaned in, lips grazing yours almost unsurely, as if testing the waters and giving you time to back out. Drew, your boyfriend’s best friend—and your friend—was very quiet, making it easy to do just as Austin suggested. You were deep in thought as you looked between his eyes, thinking about how much you really wanted to have sex with your boyfriend.

There had never been a time when you wanted to have sex with him, and you didn’t have sex with him. You were starting to understand less and less why tonight needed to be a first just because Drew was sitting in the corner. You knew that if you looked over at him, you’d lose your nerve, and you didn’t want to. Reaching up, you covered Austin’s hands with your own, humming to yourself.

“Okay,” you whispered in a small voice, just loud enough for him. “He’s not even there.”

You kept that in mind as Austin kissed you, allowing your eyes to close and kissing him back. The alcohol in your system definitely helped with the nerves that were threatening to take over, and you had to remind yourself that Drew only wanted to watch. It wasn’t like anyone was suggesting more than that, and the thought of that was so nerve-wracking that your current reality seemed like nothing in comparison.

It wasn’t long before you were kissing your boyfriend and touching him the same way you did when you two were alone. In fact, when he was propped up on the bed and your knees were on either side of his waist, you’d forgotten about Drew entirely. You were only concerned with being as close to Austin as possible, one hand traveling down his torso before stopping at the waist of his pants.

He huffed when you did, and you giggled at his frustration.

You could feel how hard he was, and the only thing that prevented you from prolonging the inevitable was how badly you wanted him inside of you. When one of his hands grabbed yours, you didn’t stop him, smiling into the kiss as your hand was guided past the fabric. Sliding past another layer of fabric, your fingers grazed the length of him, wrapping your hand around him and feeling satisfied at the shudder you felt.

With one arm curving around your waist, Austin lied back completely before rolling you both over. He was moving to gently push at the bottom of your skirt while you stroked him, hand sliding and gently twisting around his cock. Soft lips met the expanse of your neck, and you threw your head back to give him more room, a soft moan escaping your lips.

You were still stroking him when his fingers grazed over you, a thin layer of fabric preventing skin to skin contact that was quickly removed. The cool air against your wet pussy lips forced a shiver down your spine, but another quickly followed for a whole other reason, and your chest arched up against your boyfriend’s.

One long finger stroking your walls felt like a tease, and when he added a second, your toes curled. Whatever moan was threatening to climb out of your throat was swallowed by his lips, mouth covering yours in a hungry kiss. The feel of his fingers inside of you almost made it hard to concentrate on caressing his cock, fist tightening ever so slightly around him and pulling a groan from his mouth.

His other hand was just dipping underneath your shirt before he pulled away completely.

“Get this off,” he murmured, helping you pull the thin fabric over your head.

He wasted no time in reaching for your bra, easily unhooking it, the pink thing thrown haphazardly on the floor somewhere just as he leaned down. When his lips covered one of your breasts, a hardened bud against his tongue, you reached up to thread your fingers through his blond locks. Your gaze was on the ceiling even though your lashes kept fluttering, eyes open half the time.

You were intently focused on getting naked, happily lifting your hips when he reached down to pull at your skirt. Determined to be on even ground, you tugged at his shirt, and you smiled up at him when he sat up to give you what you want. However, when Austin reached behind his head to yank it off, your eyes caught sight of someone you’d wholly forgotten about.

Drew’s gaze was intensely focused on the sight before him.

The reminder of his presence had actually given you pause, a brief feeling of self-consciousness filling you. You figured it was noticeable, because your attention was pulled away from the other man, Austin’s hand resting on your cheek as he softly pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender, meant to be reassuring, and it did its job.

“He’s not even here,” your boyfriend whispered against your lips. “It’s just you and me.”

You nodded, repeating those words to yourself, teeth pressing into your lip when you helped him get his pants off. From the corner of your eye, you were reminded of Drew’s presence again, but you forced yourself to keep your gaze on Austin’s cock, reaching for it as you sat up. Not wanting to see Drew at all—knowing you’d probably lose all your nerve if you so much as made eye contact with him—you leaned over and wrapped your lips around the length of your boyfriend.

Cheeks hollowed and hand around the base of him, you bobbed your head and slid your lips over what you could reach. You didn’t ease into it, satisfied at the sound of Austin’s sharp intake of breath, and you only grew more comfortable at the feel of his fingers massaging over your scalp. It was a soothing feeling that contrasted against the heat between your legs, making your eyes roll.

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching between them, touching yourself. You brushed your fingers over your clit before sliding them between your folds with ease, moaning at the feel, the vibrations traveling to his cock. The sounds of your mouth were loud in the room, saliva coating his length and making the glide of your tongue along his shaft seamless.

Again, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or simply getting caught up in being with your boyfriend, but you’d once again forgotten about Drew on the other side of the room. When Austin pulled you off of him, hands on your cheeks as he pressed his mouth to yours, you could only moan into the kiss as he pushed you back.

With your back flat against the bed, you parted your legs with ease. A hand was on each ankle as your boyfriend bent them, making himself comfortable between your thighs before pushing his hips forward. The tip of him grazed you, making you suck in a breath between your teeth, and when he just barely slid past your lips, you exhaled. When he continued moving closer, you threw your head back, lips parted, and you didn’t even realize his name fell from your lips once he’d completely sheathed himself inside of you.

No time was wasted, Austin’s thrusts already picking up a steady rhythm. His knees were pressed into the bed as he towered over your frame, and your own knees were slowly pushed towards your chest. You were hyperaware of the length of his cock at this angle, thighs pressed together with the soles of your feet on his stomach. Every pull pulled a shudder from you, and you groaned his name again.

Every thrust made you wetter, Austin pulling out until only the tip remained before thrusting back inside of you to the hilt with ease. Your lashes kept fluttering, and you got lost in the feel of him fucking you. You were half focused as you trailed your hands up towards your chest, touching yourself and pressing your head into the pillow. You heard your boyfriend curse, and you turned your head to the side, barely peeling your eyes open.

You briefly tightened around Austin.

Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and you couldn’t stop the way your stomach flipped at the reminder that you were being watched. Drew wasn’t even touching himself, just sitting on the loveseat in the corner of the room, unwavering gaze focused on you. It did something to you that you didn’t know how to explain, fluttering around your boyfriend’s cock again.

His best friend’s hands were occupied, one wrapped around a beer and the other just resting on his leg when you lowered your eyes. You watched the way his fingers occasionally twitched—as if he desperately wanted to do something with them. Such a thought just made you wetter, and to your dismay, it was noticeable. A soft laugh reached your ears, and when you turned your head forward, Austin was grinning at you.

It was mischievous and haughty and proud all in one—you’d been caught.

You liked that Drew was watching you, his blue gaze focused on the way your boyfriend fucked you into the mattress. You never thought you would like to be watched, something you’d never entertained thoughts of before, but there was a brief wonder if it had nothing to do with being watched…but being watched by Drew.

When Austin lowered your feet and parted your thighs, you gasped. You were so pleased at the feel of him completely lowering himself against you that you didn’t care how he chose to maneuver you both along the bed. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, leaving kisses along the skin, and your legs were completely spread to accommodate him as his knees found comfort underneath your thighs.

Your hands ran along his back, nails grazing his skin and occasionally pressing into it. When his lips trailed over your jaw before covering yours, you moaned into the kiss. All the while his thrusts didn’t stop, the force of them jostling the bed, and when you could feel yourself dripping around him that’s when your position registered in your brain.

Drew had the perfect view of Austin’s cock sinking into you, stretching you out and sliding between your folds.

The realization turned you on so much that you could feel that familiar tightening deep within your gut. Your nails scratched along your boyfriend’s back, a choked gasp leaving your lips. You attempted to lift your hips, meeting his thrusts and feeling almost…feral. Your moans and whimpers filled the room, hands sliding over his arms when Austin pushed himself up to hover over you. Your legs fell around him as he repeatedly hit something inside of you that made your breath hitch.

Your boyfriend leaned down to kiss you again, and when he pulled away, your eyes lowered.

Underneath his arm, you could see Drew, your gazes connecting. The sight of him staring at you made you clench down on Austin’s cock again, and it was hard to swallow down your moans. You felt hot and tingly all over—as you always did—but it was so much more in this moment. You couldn’t stop staring at Drew, and when he lifted his arm, bringing the neck of the bottle to his lips, something about the way his eyes glinted in that moment sent you over the edge.

You wrapped your legs around your boyfriend as you came, unable to hold back the sharp gasps that left you. You clung to him, squeezing your eyes shut and trembling at the knowledge that Drew was watching you come. Your own orgasm triggered Austin’s, the blond finishing inside of you, and his thrusts grew slow, lazily pushing into you as you milked his cock.

There was a loud roaring in your ears, and you knew that Austin said something, but you didn’t hear what it was. Stars floated in your vision, and you had the brief thought that you’d never come that hard in your life. You were still catching your breath when your boyfriend pulled out of you, and your hearing only just returned as you watched Drew come back into the room.

You hadn’t even noticed him leave.

You looked between them as he handed your boyfriend a small towel, and you realized that Austin had been speaking to him, not you. When he kissed down your frame, small towel in hand to clean up the mess between your legs, your gaze traveled to the other man standing by the bed. Any hint of self-consciousness you’d felt before was now gone, and all that remained was a dull heat, unable to make sense of your thoughts as you forced yourself to break eye contact.

You’d thought that things would be awkward. After all, it wasn’t every day that your mutual friend wants to see you and your boyfriend have sex, and it wasn’t every day that you two follow through on the suggestion. Everyone had been drinking and feeling bolder than usual, so you figured at best, things would be awkwardly written off as uncharacteristically drunken antics, and at worst, you wouldn’t be able to look your friend in the eye ever again.

You had never considered a third option.

You were sitting in Austin’s lap—not unusual—and despite the fact that your eyes were on the screen, you weren’t actually focused on any part of the movie. Carlacia and Madelyn were mostly talking through it anyway despite how hushed the conversation was. No, something else was going on that had all of your attention.

Your boyfriend’s fingers were dancing along your waist. It was a normal thing for him to do whenever you were near. It was even normal for them to barely dip into the waistline of your jeans occasionally, fingertips gently grazing the skin there. His other hand was on your arm, and his chin rested on your shoulder, and he’d periodically turn his head to kiss the skin just under your ear.

None of these things were abnormal.

Drew observing all of these things was abnormal.

The dirty blond was seated on the couch across from you, and despite your fixated gaze on the TV, his own stare was obvious out of the corner of your eye. It was odd, it was new, and under any other circumstances, you might’ve jokingly said something—a snarky or teasing comment always ready at the back of your mind. However, there was one simple fact that made you bite your tongue.

Austin knew that Drew was staring.

You didn’t know how you knew that, but the fact of the matter was that you did.

Maybe it was in the way Austin chose to sit down directly across from his best friend, pulling you into his lap. Maybe it was the silence between them and lack of interaction with everyone else, used to the odd comment or discussion about whatever was happening on screen. Or maybe it was the way Austin would sometimes stare straight ahead at Drew, not even pretending to pay attention to the movie even if only for a few seconds.

Drew was watching you…your boyfriend knew…and he was feeding into it.

Why?

The most obvious answer seemed the craziest to you. After all, it was one drunken night that you chose not to read too much into. Apparently, you were the only one to hold that sentiment, quickly looking away when you glanced over, eyes meeting a familiar blue pair. You fought to ignore the way your face heated up, telling yourself you only felt weird because Austin and his best friend refused to act normally about this.

You didn’t want to acknowledge how you still thought about Drew’s stare as he watched Austin slide his cock into you. You tried not to linger on how much it had turned you on to hold his gaze while your boyfriend fucked you, fingers twitching and possibly yearning for something to touch. You kept telling yourself that things could go back to normal if it weren’t for the two blondes playing whatever game they decided they liked.

It wasn’t just you sitting in Austin’s lap during a movie. It was the other week when he’d kissed the back of your neck, just barely bending you against the counter in the kitchen. Drew had been on the other side. It was last Tuesday when your boyfriend twirled you in the new dress he bought you, asking Drew what he thought—something he’d never done before. It was yesterday when you bought a milkshake, Austin suggesting that you let Drew have a taste too despite the fact that there was only one straw.

No one was more relieved than you when the movie ended, and your friends started to leave your boyfriend’s place one by one. You looked forward to being able to finally relax, and you tried to ignore the way Drew lingered, seeing the rest of your friends off alongside you. You convinced yourself that he would be leaving right after he used the restroom, but the way Austin pulled you into his lap the moment he disappeared had you second guessing yourself.

“Drew’s still here,” you whispered to him when his lips met yours.

When he barely pulled away, his blue eyes searched yours. Your boyfriend’s arms were circled around your waist, and there was an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite name. Despite that, your heart still skipped a beat in your chest at the sight of it, and for some reason, a warm sensation settled between your legs when Austin pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Is that okay…?” he softly wondered, something else unspoken in that question.

There was no alcohol in your system today, so whatever answer you gave to the silent question in his eyes when he pulled away would be all you. There wouldn’t be anything you could blame it on, and you swallowed at the thought of what happened that night no longer being confined to a drunken and impulsive choice at a party. Your heartbeat felt so heavy and loud, but the twisting sensation deep in your gut overpowered that.

It was a reluctant admission, but you liked having Drew watch, breath shaky at the mere memory of his eyes on you while Austin was inside of you. It brought on a kind of arousal you didn’t think was possible for you, and you knew that your eyes told an answer before your lips did by the way the corner of Austin’s mouth curved upwards just so slightly.

“Yes,” you barely breathed. “That’s okay.”

You closed your eyes when he kissed you again, his hands sliding to the small of your back. The TV was off, and the only light that bled into the living room came from the kitchen. You felt more nervous than last time, and you almost wished that you did have a shot of something in your system. When Austin got your jeans off, your panties going with them, you were embarrassed by how wet you already were.

When your boyfriend’s fingers touched you, the soft laugh that reached your ears was more sly than humorous.

You didn’t need to admit to him that you were turned on by Drew watching him fuck you—it was obvious. Not only was it evident in the way you were already dripping at the thought, but also in the way you pulled at your boyfriend and his clothes, needing him naked and on top of you in any way.

Your knees were pressed into the couch, hands digging into the arm of the couch, when you glanced up. Austin was behind you, a hand on your hip while his other stroked himself. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your chest, even more so at the sight of a familiar figure standing at the entrance to the living room.

The light of the kitchen behind him created a shadowy outline of your friend, but you could still make out his features. His blue eyes sparkled in the limited lighting, and you didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out to touch his lip. Austin’s fingers danced up your spine before he slid his cock into you in one smooth thrust.

The swift intrusion made you gasp, and you dug your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your boyfriend’s cock was soaked in your essence in no time, each thrust smoother than the last as you only grew wetter at the sight of Drew watching you. With no TV or music on, the rest of the house was quiet.

The only thing that could be heard was Austin’s soft grunts, the gasps and whimpers you tried to bite back, and the lewd wet sounds of your boyfriend’s cock plunging into your cunt. You almost felt ashamed of how wet you were, but you couldn’t find it in you to. You eagerly pushed back against Austin’s movements, meeting his thrusts.

You lowered your head for just a moment, unable to hold it up. The sound of skin slapping against skin soon reached your ears as his thrusts became rougher. You closed your eyes, focusing on the feel of your boyfriend’s cock easily sliding along your walls, stroking that fire inside of you and making your toes curl. Austin bent over you, and you shuddered when his lips grazed your ear.

“Can he touch you?”

The question was evenly whispered into your ear, the nature of it startling you, making you lift your head.

Your lips parted at the sight of Drew standing so close, now. You hadn’t even heard him move, and Austin’s lips were still at your ear as you stared at his best friend, your lashes fluttering at the feel of the long and slow movements he’d now adopted. A drawn-out moan crawled from your throat when your boyfriend completely pulled out before slowly dipping his cock back into you.

Your arms gave an answer before your lips could.

You reached out towards the blond before you with one hand, the other twisting into the fabric of his shirt. His hand was tight on yours, steadying you as the force of Austin’s thrusts jostled you. You were surprised to feel Drew’s free hand on your face, thumb brushing along your lips and pulling at them. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was thinking about when he slipped his thumb past them, and without even thinking about it, you wrapped your lips around the appendage.

At the glint that passed through his gaze, you sucked on it.

You were so close, and you knew your boyfriend could tell. He could always tell, and you only moaned his name when his hand rested on your throat, pulling you back against his chest as he sat up. The hand that was intwined with Drew’s guided it to your chest, and your eyes rolled at the feel of him taking your nipple between his fingers.

“I’m…” you gasped, words dying in the air as your breath hitched.

Austin’s thrusts were growing sloppy, uneven, and you could feel your own body starting to tighten.

“Fuck, look at you.”

Drew’s voice had you mentally tumbling, clenching down on Austin just after he started to spill inside of you. You frantically grabbed both of Drew’s hands as you did, tightly squeezing them as you came around your boyfriend—hard. Drew didn’t let go, keeping hold of your hands as he watched you push back against Austin, still fucking yourself onto his softening cock.

There was a dull buzzing beneath your skin all over, and you were very aware of Austin’s fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your waist and Drew’s hands against your clammy ones. Every lazy push onto your boyfriend made you shudder some more, remnants of your orgasm still passing through you, and if he minded the overstimulation, he didn’t protest. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin.

When the other blond pulled out of you, you collapsed in Drew’s arms, fighting to catch your breath. When your boyfriend said something about running you a bath, you only gave a hum and a lazy nod, eyes drooping as you rested your cheek against Drew’s torso. You didn’t want to let go of his hands, and you desperately tried not to read into that.

If anyone noticed the way Drew’s fingers would graze your waist when he walked by, they didn’t speak on it. You hoped that no one would think anything of him resting his hands on your shoulders sometimes or the way he was always the last one to leave Austin’s place whenever he had people over. You liked to think that you and Austin being the last to leave his place maybe evened it out.

You were addicted to the overwhelming feel of your boyfriend’s cock inside of you and his best friend’s eyes on you.

The first time had been an impulsive alcohol fueled decision. The second time had been a sober level-headed one by all accounts, a reluctant silent admission of what you wanted. The third and fourth and fifth time was pure indulgence of unrestrained desires, gaze meeting a familiar blue pair every time as you put on a show for him.

Sometimes he’d stand near, pinning your hands down while Austin fucked you or fisting his hands into your hair while you moved your mouth over your boyfriend’s cock. Each time, Drew got a little more bolder and participated a little more, never kissing you…never fucking you…but leaving you wishing that he had.

You thought of the times you came around Austin while staring at Drew. One leg on the counter chair while Drew watched from the living room. Holding his gaze as he stood behind the couch, watching you push yourself down onto Austin’s cock over and over again. Head hanging off the bed as you stared into his eyes upside down, your boyfriend curving his hips into yours.

You knew it was only a matter of time.

…and sometimes you wanted it, usually in the heat of the moment when you could only think about being held down and fucked into the bed. However, once the moment passed, you sometimes found yourself wondering if that was a good idea. The situation you found yourself in was already messy, and actually having sex with the other blond man would just make things messier.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Already he touched you and navigated around you like he was your second boyfriend instead of whatever he actually was. It wasn’t something that was ever discussed—at least to your knowledge—and Austin didn’t seem to mind whenever his best friend would touch you and stroke you and cup your chest. That was fun in the name of the heat of the moment though, and it was fun that never progressed into anything more.

It never occurred to you that Drew and Austin were on the same page.

…and only waiting for you to catch up.

The moment Chase left the house, Austin guided you to your feet, his cock slipping out of you with a soft ‘pop’. Keeping your boyfriend nice and warm inside of you had tested you more than you thought it would. Especially around your friends who were none the wiser—all except one. Drew’s heated gaze told you that he knew what was going on even if Austin never did, and every brush of your thighs as you walked to his room only made your arousal worse.

You could only focus on chasing your high when you finally sank yourself down onto Austin’s cock. It was still wet from your juices, enveloping him with ease as you dripped down your thighs. You both let out the same soft sigh, your boyfriend’s hands immediately finding a home on your waist. For the first time in a month, you forgot all about the other person in the room.

Your hands were flat against Austin’s chest, steadying yourself to slide up and down his cock. You kept pulling yourself up until only the tip remained before completely covering him again, lashes fluttering. When you leaned over to kiss him, he grinned into it, arms snaking around your waist before bending his knees, pushing himself up into you.

The shock of it made you gasp, nails pressing into his shoulder as he sat up. You circled your hips in his lap, your boyfriend’s lips grazing over your collarbone and teeth nipping at the skin of your chest. When his hand slid from your waist and up in between your breasts, you let your head fall back. The same hand slowly snaked around your throat as he pushed himself to his knees, and with your head almost touching the mattress, he jerked his hips into yours.

You moaned at the feeling, and when your eyes focused, you were reminded of Drew’s presence.

Even upside down, the intensity in his gaze was undeniable, and you could only think about both of their hands on you. Too many times you thought about Drew’s lips on yours or the feel of his weight pressing down on you or what his cock would feel like inside of you. As Austin thrust into you again, you let out a choked whine.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, hand reaching out to him.

You didn’t miss the smirk that danced along his lips as your words reached his ears. Austin pulled you upright then, pulling you into a kiss as he fell back. You were eager to start working your hips over him again, sliding yourself down onto him and clenching every time you lifted yourself. When you sat up straight, hands pressed to his stomach, your boyfriend was grinning up at you.

You didn’t quite understand why until a hand curled around your throat.

Your gasp was loud—from both shock and excitement—and when Drew pulled your head back, his lips covered yours. The kiss was hungry and head-spinning, his other hand covering a breast while Austin had a tight grip on your hips, lifting his own hips and still fucking you. Drew’s hand tightened just a tad on your throat, and you moaned into his mouth.

When both of his hands slid down, he pulled you off of your boyfriend.

Back flat against the bed, you looked up at him in wonder as he got undressed, Austin briefly sliding two fingers into you, curling them and making you excitedly jolt. When Drew made himself comfortable between your legs, he was stroking himself, and you watched with parted lips. It was only just hitting you that you were about to fuck someone who wasn’t your boyfriend, and when Drew dragged you closer, your stomach flipped.

When the head of his cock pressed against your opening, you excitedly rolled your hips. He chuckled at that, tightening his grip and holding you in place. As he slid into you inch by inch, cock brushing along your lips, you let out a silent moan, mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed, resting against you and basking in the feel of you wrapped around him. “She’s choking me.”

His awe didn’t last for long, pulling back before swiftly thrusting back into you. The bed shook from his movements, and just when you were about to reach down and touch his hands, Drew grabbed one of your legs. He pushed it towards you, resting his hand on the bed there to keep it in place, your leg bending over his arm. The new angle had you gasping, his cock hitting something in you that wouldn’t allow you to catch your breath.

You could admit to yourself now that you’d wanted this since that first night. You hadn’t just been turned on by the sight of him watching you, but in the back of your mind, there was curiosity about what it’d feel like too. You recalled the twitch of his fingers, and how on some subconscious level, you’d known it was you he wanted to touch.

Your nails pressed into his shoulders, this new length and girth making you flutter around him. It was just like you imagined, feeling stretched out and so full in a different way than what you were used to, squirming beneath him to adjust. He snapped his hips against yours, gaze lowering every so often to focus on where he disappeared into you. You followed his lead, mesmerized by the glistening of his cock, the length covered in your essence and evidence of how badly you wanted him.

His free hand was pressed into your hip so firmly that you knew it would probably bruise.

You liked the thought for some reason, a shudder passing through you at the thought of walking around with a mark given by him. Every push of his cock into you resulted in you clenching down on him, as if trying to pull him back in and keep him there. You were thankful when he let your leg fall, letting you wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankles at the small of his back.

With your head just at the edge of the bed, you were unsurprised to see Austin approaching you, his hands resting on your cheeks as you tilted your head back. Opening your mouth for him, you let him dip his cock into it, sliding his length along your tongue. You could feel Drew nipping at you, teeth grazing your skin, and you shuddered at the onslaught of sensations. You only had a brief reprieve when he flipped you over, hands pressing into the bed just as he pulled you back onto him.

Your boyfriend’s hand found a home in your hair, pulling your face closer to him. His cock went in easier this time, gliding back and forth over your tongue. You sucked in your cheeks, sliding your mouth over the length of him, a moan escaping at an intentional thrust from Drew, and Austin groaned at the feel. When his hands tightened against your scalp, you relaxed your jaw.

You couldn’t deny the way you tightened around Drew as Austin fucked your face, hips gently surging forward as he used your mouth. When you looked up at him, your gaze met his, and your heart fluttered at the way he cupped your face. You noted that you could taste yourself on him, and you held his blue eyes with your own while Drew continued to plunge his cock into you, chasing both of your highs. The heavy breathing from both of them affected you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching down and touching yourself, the tips of your fingers lightly meeting Drew’s cock.

When Austin came onto your tongue, he stilled in your mouth, sighing above you before partially pulling out. He stroked himself onto your tongue, lightly tapping the tip of him against it, and only pulling away when he was satisfied. When you came around Drew, your head fell back down against the bed, stomach tightening as you shuddered beneath him.

He didn’t stop fucking you even when you collapsed, hips slapping against your backside until he finally came too, thrusts growing sloppy and slow as he finished inside of you. You were still trembling when he did, vision just a tad fuzzy, and when your boyfriend laid down beside you—still out of breath—you rested your head on his shoulder.

Drew took his time pulling out of you, and you felt so wet and satisfied and exhausted. You could feel him tracing patterns into the skin of your back after a while, and when your boyfriend started playing with your fingers, you only worried about who you were going to shower with.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

POSITIVE

Word Count: 0.7K

Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe 

Warnings: Pregnancy talk

Summary: You find out your pregnant 

The evening was perfect for a surprise, and tonight, you had the best one planned. After months of trying, it had finally happened. You were pregnant. The news was both exciting and nerve-wracking, but you couldn’t wait to share it with Rafe, to see his reaction.

You had kept it a secret from him, not out of doubt, but because you wanted to surprise him in the most special way. As you carefully wrapped the pregnancy test in a small gift box, your heart raced in anticipation. This was the moment. This was everything you had been waiting for.

-

You found him outside, sitting on the porch of his family’s house, his usual relaxed posture, one leg propped up on the railing as he watched the sunset. When he saw you approach, his smile widened.

"Hey, you," he called, his voice deep and full of affection. "What’s this?"

You handed him the small, wrapped box, your hands shaking just a little, despite your excitement. "Open it."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, curious but clearly thrilled. He pulled the ribbon, and the paper fell away. When he opened the box and saw the pregnancy test inside, his eyes widened in surprise, and he froze for a moment, the joy on his face so clear that it nearly took your breath away.

"Wait," he started, his voice hushed as he looked at you. "Are you serious? Is this... real?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment hit both of you at once. "It’s real. I’m pregnant."

The moment you said those words, Rafe stood up quickly, his arms immediately pulling you into an embrace so tight you could feel the excitement and happiness radiating from him. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I can’t believe this. I’m gonna be a dad."

You could feel his heart racing as he held you close. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his grin wide. "I love you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I love you so much. We’re gonna be a family."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear. They were from the overwhelming joy of knowing that this was exactly what you both wanted. You weren’t alone in this—you had each other.

Rafe’s excitement only grew as he started rambling about everything he couldn’t wait to do. "I can’t wait to build a nursery," he said, his voice bubbling with excitement. "We’ll make it perfect for our little one. And when it’s a boy, I’ll teach him everything about bikes. If it’s a girl, I’ll spoil her rotten."

You laughed softly at his enthusiasm, but his eyes never left yours. "We’re gonna be amazing parents," he continued. "I’ll be there for every moment. You need special cravings at 3 AM? I’m on it. Foot rubs, back rubs, whatever you need. I promise, I won’t get frustrated when you want something ridiculous in the middle of the night."

His words were so genuine, so full of love that you couldn’t help but smile. You could see the future unfolding in his eyes. And it was beautiful.

"I can't wait to tell my sisters," he said suddenly, his excitement growing even more. "They’re going to be so excited. Wheezie and Sarah—" He paused, a thought crossing his mind. "Are you feeling okay, though? You’re not feeling sick, are you?" His tone softened, his protective instincts kicking in.

You nodded, reassured by his concern. "I’m okay," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a little nervous, but mostly excited."

Rafe’s hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your skin as he leaned in, kissing you gently. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft, filled with adoration. "I’m so happy," he whispered, holding you close again. "We’re going to make this work. You and me. Together."

You held onto him, your heart racing as you sank into the warmth of his embrace. There was no doubt in your mind anymore that this was the right path. Rafe was going to be an incredible father, and you were both going to navigate this journey side by side.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, and you could feel the smile on his face as he whispered again, "I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I can’t wait to experience every single moment with you."

And as the night stretched on, you knew that everything would be okay. With Rafe by your side, you had everything you needed to face this new chapter in your life.

[anantaru]

SWEET, TASTY, DELICIOUS, MH! + WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was just so insatiable when he got in between your thighs. wc. 700

・✶ ｡ warnings — oral (fem! receiving), softdom! wrio, petname: doll, baby, fem! reader

wriothesley believes you might just be the most delicious thing he's ever tasted before— and he drops down in between your thighs immediately, in fact, he doesn't need to be told twice, he loves making you feel good and rub his tensed tongue over your folds until you're begging for his cock.

a striking sight, in its majestic setting, was slowly unfolding when you wiggled your hips into his touch— delicately before his charming eyes, putting on a show as the duke believed it must be memorized forevermore, and worshipped until you felt bathed in bliss.

his hands were soft when they settled on your behind when he leans into it, his palms pressing heavy against your ass to move you into the position he desired you to be. "i will be gentle, always," wriothesley catches your eyes, "you ready, doll?" his words fan against the soft skin as you nod back at him.

a dozen of tiny little sparks streak right to your clit as he plants the first kiss on the excited nerves, the jolt of his plump lips on top of you materialize a heat from your pores, your back arching up as he licks you after yet another wet kiss— his large hands manhandling you up and down his mouth as he flicks his head left and right to splatter his spit all over your pussy.

having wriothesley so close to where you wanted him to be was to die for, in fact, you were awaiting this moment all day, not hesitating for a second as you parted your legs and braced yourself for how well he wanted to wrack your body tonight.

"come on now," his drowsy eyes glance up to you, and they held a spark within their expression, his entire tongue pushed out as he scans it over your pussy— allowing the pink muscle to nudge the sensitive knot so you could jolt up into his face and practically suffocate him with your thighs.

"fuck— shit, you can do it, baby," you watch his face before lacing your fingers into his gelled hair, caressing his scalp softly, a low groan flying from his mouth as you tug and twist his strands to push him deeper into your cunt. "fuck— baby," wriothesley whines, his noises breathless and needy before he drags his tongue between your folds where he attacks your sore clit, leisurely wrapping his plump lips around the nerves before toying with it.

you love how good it feels— how good he felt, and your nails were plunging into his skull while pushing him to stay right on your cunt— the knot in your stomach strengthening as you lose a hold of your hips, the repeated twitches and quivers due to the overstimulation being too difficult to control anymore.

wriothesley felt so sticky in between your thighs— and he really has no idea on just how desperate he looked right now, helplessly showing how insatiable he could become whenever you grind down on his tongue so your lewd scent would overturn his own.

and you realize that he welcomed the mess he made, always, it's when the humidity of his breath heavily slaps your clit that you're shuddering under his scorching-hot tongue— his face burned when he loses himself between the squelching noises and your pretty whines, and the bucks of his nose burying itself into your clit sends you deeper towards the edge.

his skin held a cherry red wine like the one you drink on important evenings, one you share between passionate lovers, from his cheeks to his neck— and there's a thin glow of what seemed like sweat glossed over his forehead when he digs deeper, curls his tongue down to insert it in your hole, needing more, yearning for more, filthier, please make it filthier.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[meadowfics]

squid game women: pregnancy and birth headcannons

kang sae byeok x f!reader, kang no-eul x f!reader, ji-yeong x f!reader, cho hyun-ju x f!reader, se-mi x f!reader

how going through reciprocal IVF, and pregnancy, would go with these partners <3

warnings: reciprocal IVF is when one woman takes her egg, along with a sperm donor to create an embryo, then implants it into the other woman to carry :D hyun ju can't go through reciprocal IVF so she is the only exception on here

this is for my sapphics and lesbians

kang sae-byeok x you

deciding to go through reciprocal ivf is something you and sae-byeok talk about for a long time.

you've been with your fiancée for seven years, you know how kind she is underneath her tough persona.

you love the idea of carrying a child that is biologically hers, and she loves that you want to do this together.

the vice versa will happen someday, but you'd happy to be the carrier for the first.

from the moment you start treatments, sae-byeok becomes incredibly protective.

she reads everything she can find.

hormone injections, side effects, potential risks.

she may not always express emotions openly, but she wants to be prepared to support you in every way.

the process is nerve-wracking. when it’s time for the embryo transfer, she holds your hand tightly, squeezing just enough to ground you.

she whispers reassurances, telling you no matter what happens, you’ll go through it together.

the two-week wait to see if the transfer was successful is agonizing.

you analyze every little symptom, overthinking, doubting. sae-byeok keeps you grounded, reminding you not to stress, even though she’s secretly just as anxious.

when the test comes back positive, she doesn’t cry, but her arms wrap around you tightly, her forehead resting against yours.

“we’re going to be someone's parents,”

she murmurs, gripping you like she never wants to let go.

the journey :D

sae-byeok becomes hyper-aware of your needs.

she always makes sure that you eat properly, stay hydrated, and rest enough.

you tease her about being overly protective, but truthfully, it makes you feel so safe.

the morning sickness hits hard, and though she hates seeing you suffer, she does not let you go through it alone.

she researches what helps, keeps crackers by the bed, rubs your back when you lean over the toilet.

“breathe, baby. you’re doing amazing.”

as your belly grows, she watches in fascination.

she loves pressing her hand over your bump, thumb stroking the skin absentmindedly.

the first time she feels the baby kick, she freezes.

afterwards she beams.

its the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on her face.

every night, she talks to the baby.

at first, she’s hesitant, voice shy, but soon, she grows into it.

“hey, little one. it’s me, your eomma. i can’t wait to meet you, okay? you’re already so loved.”

when you find out you’re having a boy, sae-byeok lights up.

she was excited regardless, but now, knowing it’s a boy, she’s thrilled.

she’s raised cheol and loved every second of it.

now, she gets to do it again with your shared child.

you cry during the ultrasound, overwhelmed by the sight of your baby.

sae-byeok wipes your tears with gentle fingers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“he’s going to be perfect,”

she whispers.

she takes on assembling the nursery all on her own.

you come home to find her halfway through building the crib, looking so concentrated, muttering curses in korean when the pieces don’t fit.

she loves buying little outfits, especially tiny sneakers.

“look at these,”

she says, holding up a pair of mini adidas.

“he’s going to be stylish like his eomma.”

many nights, you and your woman loves to ask many questions.

“what if he has your nose?”

you wonder aloud.

sae-byeok smirks.

“i hope he has your smile.”

when the contractions start at 37 weeks, sae-byeok is calm.

she might be panicking inside, but she doesn’t let it show, keeping you focused, helping you breathe.

at the hospital, she doesn’t leave your side.

not for a second.

she holds your hand through every contraction, the other hand smoothing sweaty hair from your forehead.

labor is long, exhausting, intense, but she is your rock.

“i know it hurts,”

she murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles.

“you’re the strongest person i know, baby. i’m right here.”

when it’s finally time to push, she’s right there, whispering,

“you can do this. i know you can.”

the moment your son is born, his cries fill the room, and your own tears spill.

you’re exhausted but relieved, and then you see sae-byeok’s expression.

she’s stunned. completely awestruck. when the nurse places your son on your chest, sae-byeok gently reaches out, tracing his tiny fingers.

“he looks just like you,”

you whisper breathlessly, staring at his delicate features.

he does.

the little boy's almond-shaped eyes, the curve of his lips...they are all sae-byeok. it’s uncanny.

sae-byeok chokes up. you see it in the way she swallows thickly, eyes glassy.

“he’s perfect,”

she whispers.

she watches as you hold your son, love and admiration evident in her gaze.

when it’s her turn to hold him, she’s hesitant, as if afraid she’ll break him.

the second he’s in her arms, something shifts.

“hi, little one,”

she whispers, brushing her fingers across his chubby cheeks.

he squirms but doesn’t cry, almost as if recognizing her already.

“you’re so beautiful,”

she says softly, in absolute awe.

you watch her cradle him, murmuring in korean, and your heart nearly bursts.

ji-yeong x you

ji-yeong never thought she’d be here.

she never thought she’d want this, wanted parenthood.

for most of her life, she never imagined being a mother, never let herself dream of having a family.

there was too much pain involved and too much loss.

why bring a child into a world that once showed her nothing but cruelty?

after surviving the games, something changed.

she was given a second chance and with you by her side, she started seeing the world differently.

ji-yeong did not see it as just as a place of suffering, but as a place where love could exist, where healing was possible.

the woman still hesitated, though.

she was scared.

when you told her you wanted to carry her child, that you wanted a piece of her to live on in something beautiful, she felt something in her chest crack open.

she wanted this.

she wanted this with you.

the ivf process was overwhelming, and ji-yeong wasn’t great at handling emotions, but she was there for you.

she researched everything, attended every appointment, held your hand through every step.

when you got the positive test, she froze.

ji-yeong didn’t cry, she didn’t speak.

all she did was just pulled you into her arms, burying her face into your shoulder, breathing in the moment like she needed it to survive.

the journey :D

ji-yeong was so nervous in the beginning.

she worried she wouldn’t know how to be a good partner, how to support you properly.

she overcompensated by bringing you things all the time.

snacks, warm blankets, flowers for no reason.

“you’re taking care of two now,”

she’d mumble, placing another snack in front of you.

you’d laugh, shaking your head, but appreciating her attentiveness.

the first ultrasound changed something in her.

she saw the tiny flicker of a heartbeat on the screen, and for the first time, she felt it.

this wasn’t just a decision.

this was real.

this was her baby that you were carrying.

when you found out it was a girl, ji-yeong actually let out a breath of relief.

an all-girl family.

there was no father figure to fear, no possibility of the life she lived repeating itself.

she felt safer knowing it was a daughter.

she always said she didn’t care about the gender, but deep down, she needed this.

“she’s gonna be so cool,”

ji-yeong would say, resting her head on your belly.

“we’ll teach her about music, and video games, and—oh, she’s gonna have the best style. no baby frilly pink stuff, i’m serious.”

she was so soft with you.

ji-yeong, who always acted aloof, who always teased and played things off, was suddenly waking up earlier just to make sure you ate breakfast.

she’d read to the baby sometimes, though she tried to act nonchalant about it.

you’d catch her mumbling stories late at night, one hand resting over your belly, as if she was already bonding with your daughter.

after 39 weeks... ji-yeong was terrified when the contractions started.

she kept it together for you, but internally? she was freaking out.

ji-yeong hated seeing you in pain.

the woman held your hand the entire time, whispering quiet encouragements even though her voice was shaking.

she didn’t cry, but her eyes were glassy, focused entirely on you, as if she could transfer all your pain onto herself if she tried hard enough.

finally after some time.. your daughter was here.

ji-yeong’s world stopped when she heard the first tiny cry. she barely registered the doctor announcing,

“it’s a girl,” since she already knew.

when they placed your daughter on your chest, ji-yeong hesitated.

she wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but suddenly, a crushing fear settled in.

"what if i can’t protect her? what if she ends up hurt, alone, abandoned? what if history repeats itself?"

ji-yeong wanted this.

she knew that but staring at her daughter, so small, so fragile, she felt terrified.

you noticed the way ji-yeong stared, her eyes distant, fear creeping in.

you squeezed her hand, bringing her back.

“she’s going to be okay,”

you whispered, voice steady despite your exhaustion.

“because she has us.”

ji-yeong let out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching before she finally reached out, brushing her daughter’s tiny hand with her fingertips.

your daughter’s fingers curled slightly around hers, and ji-yeong broke.

she leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to her baby’s forehead, her eyes shining with something raw and real.

as you watched her, you knew ji-yeong was going to be the best mom in the world.

even if she never expected to be one.

kang no-eul x you

no-eul never thought she would have another child.

after everything she went through to get seo-yeon back, she swore she would never go through that kind of pain again.

she didn't need anything else.

seo-yeon was enough.

however, there was you.

you had been there for her through everything.

you've been with her through the long nights of waiting, the uncertainty, the frustration.

you held her through the tears, reassured her when she felt like she’d never see her daughter again.

when she did, you were there too. right beside her.

seo-yeon was two when the conversation started.

it was casual at first...something small, something distant.

“i think… i’d like for her to have a sibling,”

no-eul admitted one night, her fingers brushing against your hand.

you agreed but you both knew you wanted this to be together, something that tied both of you into this growing family.

after a long discussion, you both decided that no-eul would carry your egg.

“you’ve done this before,”

you said softly.

“and i think it would be nice, having a little girl that’s biologically mine.”

she nodded, lips pressed together, but you could see the emotions in her eyes.

this was a big step, one she never thought she’d take.

she wanted this.

she wanted this with you.

the journey :D

from the moment the pregnancy test turned positive, you spoiled no-eul.

she didn’t ask for it.

she never asked for anything.

however, you could see the way her body adjusted, the way she carried herself differently, the quiet discomfort she tried to hide.

“i’m fine,”

she would say, but you knew better.

you weren’t letting her go through this without being treated like a queen.

the morning sickness hit her hard, and you were on it.

herbal teas, cool washcloths, soft touches along her back as she leaned over the sink.

“you don’t have to do all this,”

she mumbled one morning, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

you kissed her temple, brushing stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“i want to.”

no-eul was never one for outward affection, but pregnancy softened her in ways neither of you expected.

she let herself be comforted.

no-eul let herself lean into your warmth instead of pushing it away.

she rested against you more often, let you rub her swollen feet, let you hold her when exhaustion settled deep into her bones.

seo-yeon was fascinated by the pregnancy, constantly asking questions, resting her small hands on no-eul’s belly, talking to the baby like they could understand.

“i think she’ll be bossy,”

you teased, watching seo-yeon give a full speech to her future sibling.

no-eul chuckled, running a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“she gets that from you.”

when the ultrasound revealed you were having another girl, no-eul let out a soft breath. a smile stretched across her lips, small but real.

you squeezed her hand.

“you okay?”

she nodded.

“yeah… i’m happy.”

no-eul was never one to show fear, but as labor began, you saw it aka the slight tremor in her hands, and the deep breaths she took to steady herself.

she had done this before, but it had been different.

this time, she wasn’t alone.

this time, she had you.

you held her hand through every contraction, whispering soft encouragements, pressing kisses to her temple.

“you’ve got this, baby. i’m right here.”

it was long and exhausting.

no-eul was strong and you had never seen her stronger.

when your daughter finally entered the world, a small cry filling the room, no-eul broke.

the woman's hands trembled as they placed the baby on her chest.

she stared down at her daughter, the tiny life she had carried.

its your daughter, and no-eul's lips parted, her breath shaky.

“she looks just like you,”

she whispered, voice thick with emotion.

she did.

the shape of her nose, the curve of her lips.

your daughter was undeniably yours.

you brushed damp hair from no-eul’s forehead, pressing a lingering kiss there.

“she’s perfect.”

no-eul nodded, but she was speechless.

you had never seen her this quiet, this soft.

she cradled the baby carefully, as if afraid she might disappear if she held on too tightly.

se-mi x you

se-mi had always been cool about things.

she didn’t get overly emotional, didn’t overthink the future, semi just lived.

when you started talking about ivf and the possibility of having kids, something in her shifted.

you've been with se-mi for about five years.

the woman wasn’t the type to voice big, sappy declarations, but when you told her you wanted to carry her children, she simply nodded and said,

“okay. let’s do it.”

she thought the idea of you carrying her babies was not only hot, but loving.

se-mi's confidence kept you grounded.

she never wavered, never second-guessed.

when you were nervous about the process, she squeezed your hand and said,

“whatever happens, we’re in this together and I am here for you, okay?”

she was always calm, always composed.

when the doctor told you both that two embryos had implanted successfully, her eyebrows lifted slightly.

“twins?”

she asked, as if double-checking.

when the doctor confirmed, she just smirked.

“guess we’re going big, huh?”

despite her casual demeanor, she was so excited.

she didn’t say it outright, but you could tell. s

he was always looking up twin-related stuff, researching double strollers, subtly adjusting things around the house to prepare.

the journey :D

se-mi showed her love through acts of service.

she wasn’t overly vocal about her feelings, but she made sure you were always taken care of.

craving something at 3 a.m.?

she was already on her way to get it.

too tired to get up?

she carried you to bed with zero effort.

swollen feet? she had ice packs and a foot massage ready.

“babe, you don’t have to—”

“shh,”

she’d say, pressing a cool water bottle into your hand.

“just take it.”

she never freaked out.

not when you got sick, not when the back pain kicked in, not even when you had a full-blown pregnancy meltdown over a broken shoelace.

she just handed you a new pair of shoes and pulled you in for a hug.

se-mi was always touching your belly.

she did it absentmindedly.

when you were watching tv, when you were cooking, when she was half-asleep in bed.

se-mi's hand would just naturally find its way there.

she loved feeling the twins kick.

she’d rest her palm against your stomach, feeling the movement, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“they’re strong,”

she murmured one night.

you raised a brow.

“like you?”

she smirked.

“like us.”

the moment your water broke at 34 weeks, se-mi was ready.

no panic, no scrambling.

she had the hospital bag, the car keys, and a calm but firm presence that made you feel safe.

at the hospital, she stayed by your side through everything.

se-mi held your hand during contractions, helped you breathe, brushed damp hair from your face.

“you’re doing amazing, baby,”

she murmured, voice steady as always.

“just a little longer.”

when the twins finally arrived, a boy and a girl, se-mi’s cool demeanor cracked just slightly.

she was still composed, but you saw the way her throat bobbed, the way her fingers trembled when she reached out to touch them for the first time.

“they’re beautiful,”

she whispered.

the boy had her nose, the girl had her sharp eyes.

she just stared at them, completely in awe.

cho hyun-ju x you

hyun ju and you are the exception on this thread.

the both of you went through natural conception, since hyun ju never had bottom surgery yet.

the thing is that a child together wasn’t something you and hyun-ju rushed into.

you've been with hyun ju for a very long time. seven years.

the idea of having childern came with deep conversations and quiet reassurances that no matter what, you’d face everything together.

hyun-ju was so thoughtful from the very beginning.

she made sure you felt comfortable, safe, and loved through every step of the journey.

she always asked what you needed, always reminded you that your body was incredible for doing this.

sometimes, hyun ju remembers that she doesn't have the body that you have to carry a pregnancy, but you always remind her that she is still a woman and a complete woman, the woman that you will always love.

when you found out you were expecting a girl, your heart swelled. you knew she was going to be so loved.

“she’s going to have the best mommies,”

you whispered, pressing a hand to your belly.

hyun-ju kissed your forehead and smiled.

“she really is.”

she was so soft throughout your pregnancy.

hyun ju always rubbed your back when you were sore, making sure you were eating well, constantly checking in without being overbearing.

“do you need anything, baby?”

she’d ask at random times, even if you were perfectly fine.

“just you,”

you’d reply, and she’d smile, pulling you close.

you often wondered what your daughter would look like.

would she have your eyes and hyun-ju’s nose?

or the other way around?

hyun-ju would laugh when you brought it up.

“either way, she’s going to be beautiful,”

she’d say, her hand resting protectively over your belly.

she talked to the baby all the time.

the taller woman's voice was so gentle, so full of love.

“hey, little one. we can’t wait to meet you. your mama is so strong, you know that?”

she wasn’t super vocal about her emotions, but she showed them in every action.

whether it was holding you a little longer when you felt emotional, or putting together the nursery late at night while humming softly to herself.

“you should rest,”

you’d say, watching her adjust the baby’s crib for the tenth time.

she’d glance at you with a smile.

“i just want everything to be perfect for her.”

when the contractions started at 40 weeks, hyun-ju was calm.

she had that calmness and patience thanks to the military.

hyun-ju's hand was steady in yours, her voice soft as she helped you breathe through the pain.

“you’ve got this, mama,”

she whispered, pressing kisses to your temple between contractions.

“you’re so strong.”

she never left your side through every moment of labor.

hyun ju was always right there and squeezing your hand, reminding you how incredible you were.

when your daughter was born, hyun-ju’s breath hitched.

the second she saw her, she went completely silent, just staring in awe.

the nurse placed the baby on your chest, and you both just stared.

she was perfect.

the perfect mix of you and hyun-ju.

the girl was biologically yours and hyun-jus!

“she’s so beautiful,”

you murmured, your voice breaking with emotion.

hyun-ju wiped at her eyes, smiling softly.

“she really is.”

after everything had settled, you caught hyun-ju sitting beside the hospital bed, your daughter cradled carefully in her strong arms.

she was so gentle, looking down at her with the softest expression you had ever seen.

“you okay?”

you whispered, watching her from the bed.

she nodded, swallowing hard.

“i just… i love her so much already.”

your heart melted.

“she’s going to be so lucky. she has you as her mommy.”

hyun-ju looked up at you, eyes full of warmth. she leaned over, pressing the softest kiss to your lips.

“and she has you, too.”

this a week to write. I hope you enjoyed <3

masterlist

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[screaminglygay]

third time is a charm, right? (part eight)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff, carol danvers x fem!reader (platonic), past carol danvers x natasha romanoff

summary: dinner with natasha and wanda, testing the waters.

warnings: mild tension, moments of insecurity, just a little angst, but nothing big!!!

word count: 1k

an: enjoy this little part, but don´t worry there will be two more and then this series will be finished! thank you for all the love<3!!

(italica = your thoughts)

The restaurant they pick isn’t over-the-top fancy, but it’s elegant enough to make it clear that this night matters. Soft candlelight flickers against polished silverware, and the quiet hum of conversation fills the space around you. The air is thick with nervous energy lingering between you, Wanda, and Natasha.

Oh my god, (Y/N). Just take it easy... it´s gonna be fun. Fun? This is not fun. This is nerve wracking.

Wanda, ever the warm presence, reaches across the table, gently placing her hand over yours. "I hope this isn’t too much," she says with a small, reassuring smile. "We just wanted tonight to feel… special."

Natasha clears her throat, shifting in her seat. "Yeah. What she said."

You bite back a smile. Natasha, the same woman who commands rooms full of executives without blinking, the big scary dom, suddenly seems out of her depth when it comes to romance.

"It’s nice," you say softly, glancing between them. "Really."

Wanda visibly relaxes, while Natasha simply nods, reaching for her drink.

The conversation flows easily, mostly because Wanda keeps it moving with her usual warmth. She asks about your day, shares a funny story about an intern at her firm, and even teases Natasha about nearly breaking her espresso machine that morning.

Natasha rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, she lets a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips.

Yep. She is not a morning person by heart.

"So Wanda is your alarm clock, I see," you chuckle. "How do you-" you ask, but before you can finish, Natasha speaks up.

Natasha snorts. "I tolerate it."

Wanda leans in slightly, a teasing glint in her eye. "She loves it."

You laugh, and for a while, everything feels light. Simple.

Until your phone buzzes on the table.

Your gaze flickers down, and there it is - Carol’s name lighting up the screen.

Carol: How’s your fancy date going? You still breathing?

You hesitate for only a moment before looking up. Natasha’s posture has shifted - tense. Her fingers tighten subtly around her glass, and you can feel the shift in energy.

You don’t want this to turn into something bigger than it needs to be. So, without overthinking, you turn the phone so they can see the message. "It’s just Carol checking in," you say casually. "She was curious how tonight was going."

Wanda glances at Natasha, and for a moment, neither of them speak.

Then Natasha exhales, rolling her shoulders back. "She’s nosy."

"She’s being a friend," Wanda counters gently, giving Natasha a glare.

You suddenly feel… out of place.

Like you shouldn’t have shared the message. Like you should have just ignored it, or at least kept it to yourself. But it was nothing. It was nothing, so why does it feel like you have to explain yourself again?

"I wasn’t-" You start to say, then stop yourself. There’s no reason to explain further. You didn’t do anything wrong.

But that small voice in the back of your mind whispers: Then why does it feel like you did?

The weight in your chest tightens, pressing against the moment, against the warmth of the night that suddenly feels too fragile. Wanda notices. Of course she does.

Before the silence can settle too long, she shifts, leaning slightly forward, her voice smooth and effortless.

"You know," she begins, "I was thinking about the new building project, something modern, but with a little touch of Italy in it. Maybe hints of Venetian architecture, but not too much. Just enough to feel warm." As she talks, her foot moves under the table, just a little nudge, catching Natasha’s leg.

Natasha exhales. The tension in her shoulders loosens just slightly. Then, finally, she nods, her gaze finds you again. Like she’s coming back to you. Back to the table at least.

"Italian influence, huh?" Natasha finally says, voice softer now, no longer carrying the weight of whatever had been pressing down on her.

Wanda hums, pleased. "Something inviting. Not just another cold skyscraper." The conversation shifts, and slowly - slowly - the air clears. But even as dessert arrives and the night moves forward, that feeling lingers.

You’re happy. You want to be happy.

But then Natasha pulls you of of your thoughts.

"I have something to ask," Natasha says, her tone is careful, measured.

You blink, meeting her gaze. "Okay?"

She clears her throat, glancing at Wanda briefly before looking back at you. "There’s a gala in a few days. Big night for my company." A pause. "I want you to come."

You stare at her. It’s not just an invite. It’s proof. Proof that she’s serious, that she wants you seen in her world. Your heart stutters slightly.

"Are you sure?" The words slip out before you can stop them.

Natasha huffs, shaking her head. "I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t."

Wanda grins beside her. "She’s terrible at asking nicely, but yes. We’d love for you to come." Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass.

Maybe this is something real. Maybe this is finally something real.

You exhale slowly, nodding. "Okay. I’d love to."

By now, the mood has lightened again, thanks in no small part to Wanda steering the conversation into safer, more playful waters. Natasha, though still quieter than before, seems more present. More here.

You take a bite of your dessert and hum in appreciation. "This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted."

Wanda gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me? After everything I’ve cooked for you?"

You smirk, holding back a laugh. "Oh, don’t get me wrong, your cooking is amazing. But this? This is next level."

She narrows her eyes in playful suspicion. "Mm hmm. I see how it is."

Natasha, who had been watching with quiet amusement, finally speaks. "Careful, princess, you might end up on her bad side."

Wanda scoffs, sitting up straighter. "Bad side? Please. I am already the bad side."

You raise an eyebrow. "Are you, though?"

"I can be," she insists, pointing her fork at you.

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. "Mm. No, you’re just a softie who pretends to be tough."

Natasha snorts, and Wanda turns to her, offended. "Don’t encourage this."

Natasha holds up her hands in mock surrender, but there’s a small smirk playing at her lips. "Hey, I’m just impressed someone finally called you out." You laugh.

And just like that, the night ends on something almost hopeful. But that small, nagging doubt? It doesn’t disappear completely.

Not yet.

I know this is short, but i truly needed to get into the headspace of this series! I hope you like it, pooks! thank you for reading <3

taglist:@arualdcg, @beholdagaywriter, @snowdrop1026, @itsdoni, @newawakening9​, @aliherreraaa, @zzswiftyzz, @lesbiantothemoonandback, @maggieromanov