#someone please write this i have so much to do

[sir-renaissance]

(If this post is too long for you to read or have time to read I implore you to use the text-to-speech function on your device and listen)

I feel like we need some ‘How to Make Friends on the Internet Etiquette’ cause while I also agree that it’s weird and rude, most people don’t know anything else. There’s a reason why it’s so normalized

Sometimes all it takes is reminding someone of the fact that not only are you a person, but so are they. If you really don’t know how to make friends on the internet or deal with the rudeness there are a couple options!

Find common interests - like no duh but also this can be harder than it sounds especially in fandom spaces. So often in this modern age we tie the media we enjoy to what is essentially our fucking souls. ‘If this person doesn’t like the show/book/song I like, then they don’t like me!’ No, wrong. Don’t build that association. And if it’s already built, bulldoze that bitch. That’s Stupid Thought that takes up too much space in your brain. What it actually means is that they’re a person with different opinions and tastes than yours and that’s wonderful because you have the opportunity to peak inside a world entirely different than your own! When you’re trying to make friends in fandom spaces, not only like/reblog people’s posts but comment your thoughts- POSITIVE thoughts. Examples are ‘This theory is incredible, how did you come up with this??’ ‘I LOVE your art style and composition, what’s your general process/inspiration?’ ‘This is hilarious, would you be willing to post more of this?’. So not only are you complimenting, you’re asking leading questions that could go towards more conversation and then boom friendship. Not always but sometimes! And furthermore, if people approach you with these kinds of comments, don’t be afraid to talk back! Often times I see people complain about the lack of community and fandom spaces but a lot of times it’s because we self isolate.

Seriously compliment people’s work and encourage them to continue and ask them questions about their work. This is the fastest way to people’s hearts I find as a creative who posts. We all want to be seen and understood, open up the door for that! And artists, try to be open to that as well!

Ignore/Delete the snark. I know, I know, sometimes it can scratch that part of us that wants to see justice done and watch as some asshole gets absolutely tomato’d while wearing a jester hat. However the internet is a curated experience. If you get snark and it makes you feel bad even when you turn off the phone, DELETE IT. Or ignore it if you’re fine looking at it! Perhaps underneath you can write ‘please do not interact with this comment’ and then anyone who does (cause self control is hard sometimes) you delete that too. I promise you I promise you I promise you— deleting a comment does not mean you’re losing the argument/fight. There isn’t one in the first place. There are times when you have to stick up for yourself, yes, but most of the time the comments aren’t worth keeping. That post you made is YOUR property, why are you letting some random person be mean to you there? Get ‘em out!

Reading comprehension. *takes a deep breath* Some of you read too fast and don’t process what someone is trying to say and it shows. Now I know it’s hard to read tone over text. However if I may posit a suggestion: attempt a PEMDAS style formula! It’s not as fast as scrolling and it will slow down your internet experience, but I think that’s for the better. Some of y’all need to slow down and chill and I say that with love and care for you. So here’s the abbreviation for after reading a post: Stop. Think. Re-read. Emotions. Analyze. Understand. Or STREAU (I’m bad at abbreviations haha). After reading a post, Stop scrolling. Think about what was just said. Re-read the post (maybe a bit more thoroughly if you just skimmed the first time!). Feel your Emotions but don’t just listen to the initial reaction! Pay attention to what follows after, actually feel what you’re feeling. Analyze your Emotions and what you Think in conjunction with the post you just Re-read. And lastly, Understand that this is a person just like you are and give them the benefit of the doubt. Of course, if a post is very obviously in bad faith, don’t give them fuel and block them (or report them if it seems serious!) and see #3. But otherwise, this is the best way I’ve found to avoid misunderstandings and fix that pesky reading comprehension issue. We simply go too fast when we do not have to. And if you don’t wanna read so much, use the text-to-speech and listen to posts like audio books. I know it’s corny, but seriously, give it a try! I’ve been doing it lately and my brain feels so much better and my interactions have been thoughtful and nice!

Practice in real life and take it to the online stage. Scary I know but it seriously helps. Try to spark a small talk conversation with someone, a stranger. See how it goes and keep trying. It’s pretty much the same as the internet, only people aren’t as brazen in real life. Politeness and manners and good interactions can happen and it’s not the same level of easy for everyone. But it’s always worth it to try. In the words of Waymond from Everything Everywhere All At Once: We have to be kind. Please. Be kind.

TLDR; Don’t just look at this TLDR! Go read this post! And then talk to me or the other people in the comments about it! Slow down how you do the internet and you’ll be able to see the people behind the screen.

We've all gotten just a bit too comfortable being jerks to strangers on the internet I think

[puck-luck]

hi andy! this is my first ever ask but i just love your writing so so much that i had to participate. could i please order a chai latte with peppermint for any of the hughes brothers, you pick, i trust your brilliant mind- best friends brother trope. congrats on one year! 🫶

i am so honored to be the recipient of your first ever ask<3 i went with jack for this blurb (1.9K) and reader is luke's best friend.

warnings: possessive jack, guilt from reader, unprotected p in v, kind of insecure luke (sry lulu), spit kink, DIRTY talk, uhhhh without spoiling it... having sex in... someone else's bed.

You were doomed the first time Luke told you that he sometimes feels like he’s just Jack’s little brother. You were at Michigan with him at the time, hanging out in his dorm room while Dylan was out, when you and Luke had your first real deep talk. It was late at night and you both were overtired, but you weren’t willing to go back to your room just yet. Luke didn’t want you to leave, either. You both were having a lot of fun talking and bearing your souls to each other.

“I love my brothers, but sometimes it feels like people only want to be my friend because of them,” Luke had admitted quietly. “I wish more people were interested in, like… me. Not ‘Luke Hughes,’ but… just me.”

You hadn’t met the brothers at that point, although you felt like you knew them from Luke’s stories alone. Without telling him, you vowed that you’d never feel more for his brothers than you do for Luke. You’ve become friends with each of them over the years, and friendship was fine as long as they didn’t overtake Luke as your best friend, but things took a turn this spring.

It’s your final semester at UMich and you’re trying to make the most of it. When Jack got injured in March, Luke had asked you to keep an eye on him while he was living alone in the lake house and recovering. Luke was worried that Jack would become hermitish and sullen in the wake of his injury and another surgery, so you’d been more than happy to send Luke updates.

Jack was lonely in the house. You started spending more and more time there, keeping him company. You’d spend the afternoons there when you were done with classes, studying and hanging out with Jack so he didn’t feel quite so isolated. You started spending the night because it was too late to drive an hour back to Ann Arbor and Jack promised it wasn’t putting him out at all. In fact, it was his idea.

Then it happened. Things went too far one night and you ended up breaking your own vow. The first time, you thought it was a fluke. You avoided the house for a full week until Luke texted you and asked how Jack was doing, cornering you and forcing you to go back to see if he was okay. It happened again… and again.

You regret it every morning, feeling like garbage for feeling something more for Jack when you swore you’d never make Luke feel like you’re just friends with him for his brother, and yet you can’t seem to stop yourself from succumbing to Jack whenever he looks at you like that.

He took you out to a bar tonight, celebrating the end of the school year. All you have left are your finals and then you’ll be done, graduated, and on the job hunt. You’ve been looking, but haven’t found anything yet, and you’ve got a full summer to apply and hope for the best. 

You’re both tipsy when you make it back to the house. Jack was kissing you in the Uber and kisses you all the way up the walkway, pressing your body into the front door as he fumbles with his key and blindly lets you in. You almost fall backwards into the foyer when he opens the door, but Jack wraps a strong arm around your waist and keeps you upright. He keeps your core aligned with his bulge, showing you just how badly he wants you.

The house is dark as you make your way upstairs. You’re lost in Jack’s kisses, allowing him to guide you in the general direction of a bed. One of his hands has snaked its way up your shirt and taken it off, dropping it in the hallway, and is now working on unclasping your bra. His mouth trails down to your neck, sloppily licking over your jaw and sucking a hickey beneath your earlobe.

You and Jack collapse against the mattress, his body solid on top of yours. He rolls his hips down, between the juncture of your thighs, and you moan into his mouth. The uninhibited thrust of his covered cock against your clothed core was satisfying in the way that it only can be in this state– tipsy and drunk on the lingering taste of beer on Jack’s tongue. 

He finally removes your bra and gets his mouth on your tits, sucking blemishes over the soft skin as his fingers unbutton your jeans and wiggle inside your panties. You’re already dripping from all the times his tongue sparred with yours on the journey up to this room, so Jack is met with no resistance when two of his fingers make their way inside of you.

“So fucking wet,” Jack praises, his voice a low growl. “God, baby, you’ve soaked your panties already. All because I gave you a few kisses?”

You whimper and grind into his touch, his fingertips close to but not touching your g-spot. “All for you,” you confirm in a wanton voice, saying anything that’ll speed this up. Your abdomen is a dam that’s waiting to burst. 

Jack takes your nipple in his mouth and hollows his cheeks, suckling harshly and flicking his tongue over the bud. He looks up at you with those deep blue eyes, dark and glinting through the shadows of the bedroom, and a strand of hair falls over his forehead. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit, applying pressure as his fingers beckon inside of you quickly. He rolls his hips into your thigh, his hard length getting some well-deserved attention through his own pants. He moans against your nipple, tongue flat and eyelashes fluttering, and switches sides before rolling his hips again. He bites down on your nipple and his fingers dance against your g-spot, the stimulation against your clit too much to hold back, and you come with shaky legs because of all of Jack’s efforts and how pretty he looks with his pink lips wrapped around the peak of your breast.

“Atta girl,” Jack continues, licking over his bottom lip in a way that is almost predatory. “You want this?” He thrusts against your thigh again, overexaggerated and slow. “Want me to fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Jack,” you plead. He’s still wearing his t-shirt, so you fist the fabric and try to pull it off. 

He chuckles and gets his hands on the back of his collar, tugging the shirt from his body and throwing it across the room. He lays a kiss on your mouth before standing at the edge of the bed and unzipping his pants, frantically shimmying out of them. 

You do the same, matching his pace. You’re writhing on the quilted blanket atop the bed, which is weird because you could’ve sworn that Jack has a comforter, given the fact that he runs cold, but you’re more focused on freeing your legs and removing your panties so that Jack can hurry up and get inside you.

Both sufficiently naked, Jack stays at the foot of the bed, pulling you towards him by your hips. He brings one of your ankles to rest on his shoulder, allowing the other one to dangle. Your foot finds the floor and Jack kicks it wide, making space for himself. He fists his cock and slaps the head against your clit before finding your gaping, seeping entrance with the blunt tip. 

You arch your back when he thrusts forward sharply, half of his length working into you at once. He draws back out and fucks inside of you entirely on the second thrust, filling you up and knocking the breath from your lungs. “Oh my God,” you moan.

Jack smirks at that. “Oh, yeah?” he asks. He plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, hinging forward so he’s hovering above you. The stretch in your hamstrings is enough to have you humming in relief, then Jack catches your mouth while it’s still open and launches a glob of spit onto your tongue. 

Your eyes roll back in your head and you swallow the saliva, feeling Jack’s hand move down to grasp your throat. In the already dark room, your vision dances with black spots from the deprivation of oxygen. 

“Touch yourself,” Jack commands in a strong voice, leaving no room for argument. “Rub your clit. Make yourself feel good while I fuck you.”

You nod helplessly, right hand finding the apex of your legs and struggling to make proper contact with the sensitive nerves due to Jack’s rough thrusts displacing your body. Once you’re able to get your hand in the right place, you’re circling your fingers uncontrollably, hips jerking into your touch and into Jack’s brutal, ramming movements. 

Your brain is fuzzy and your eyes are screwed shut and Jack’s hand is on your neck and his mouth is poised right next to your ear and he whispers–

“Does it feel good, huh? Are you about to come, baby?”

“Please, Jack, can I? I’m so close,” you babble, lips touching the curve of his jaw and tasting the droplets of sweat that have formed there. 

You feel his smile, his evil, beautiful smile, form. He licks over your earlobe and traps it between his lips, gently tugging. “Let go whenever you’re ready, sweet thing.”

You shudder and your free hand goes around the nape of Jack’s neck. Your fingers curl into the long strands and he hisses at the pressure against his scalp, but he doesn’t stop moving. He drops another line of spit into your open mouth, then kisses your lax lips.

You feel like what you imagine a supernova feels like– a bright, hot, abrupt flash of energy collapsing against itself and becoming completely destroyed. 

Jack clicks his tongue and talks you through it. “Oh, there you go… what would Lukey think if he could see you now, hear all the nonsense you’re saying while you come all over his big brother’s cock? On his bed, baby? You’re such a slut, God, so perfect for me, just for me…”

He drives his hips into your heat, bodies slapping together in a wet symphony until Jack trembles and releases his load right in your pussy, flooding your cunt and claiming you. 

You breathe heavily, gasping and trying to catch your breath after that intense orgasm. It’s the strongest one that you’ve ever experienced and it’s followed by a terrible comedown– the abrupt comprehension of what Jack just said and how you’d desecrated your best friend’s bedroom with his older brother, the one that everyone seems to adore more than sweet Luke. You’re mortified as Jack pulls out of your cunt and grins down at his handiwork, teeth glinting in the moonlight that seeps through the window. You feel frozen in place, ice running through your veins as Jack’s hot cum leaks out of your pussy and onto Luke’s quilt. 

His words were possessive. He growled them in your ears with full confidence and worse, he was right. You’re a slut for Jack, you’re drunk on him, you keep falling into this trap and digging yourself deeper, and there��s no way Luke can ever know. You’re screwed– but you also can’t stop. It’s too good, Jack is too good, and you feel empty without him around. Fuck.

[ijustwannabecool]

The Day We Met Him

Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader Summary... Four girls are chosen for a once-in-a-lifetime experience: spending a day with Lewis Hamilton as part of a Drive to Survive fan segment. Trigger Warnings: Mild language. Emotional vulnerability. Themes of privacy, media attention, and public exposure.

A/N: This story is overwhelmingly soft, supportive, and heartwarming. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. All feedback is welcomed. Have a beautiful day! Let me know if you would like another part of this story. Happy reading.

The Day We Met Him

The Netflix logo fades to black.

Then:

"Drive to Survive – Season 7, Episode 3: More Than a Champion"

The screen lights up with a shot of Silverstone Circuit, the sound of engines rumbling like thunder in the distance. But this time, instead of team radios or dramatic crash footage, it opens in a cramped London flat—four girls piled on a sofa with wide eyes and disbelief on their faces.

“Pause it. Please pause it!” Tati yells.

Mimi’s thumb fumbles over the remote. They all freeze as the frame catches their four names printed on the screen beneath the words: “Four lucky fans. One unforgettable day.”

Jules is already crying. Bella just gasps and slaps a pillow against her chest.

The camera cuts back to older footage: the moment Netflix reps arrived at their door, the pure chaos of four best friends screaming, tripping over themselves, and sobbing while a producer announced they’d been selected to spend a full day with Lewis Hamilton.

It feels like a fever dream.

Until the next scene begins.

________

The Hamilton Residence – 7:03 AM

Soft morning light pours across the floors of a sleek, airy home. Everything is warm neutrals, scattered sunlight, and signs of life—framed photos, half-filled coffee mugs, toddler socks on the stairs.

The narration begins in the background.

“Lewis Hamilton has spent the last two decades becoming one of the most iconic figures in sports history. But today, he invites us into a chapter of his life no one’s ever seen before.”

It’s quiet. Too quiet. Then you hear the faint hum of a lullaby mobile and the low murmur of a baby’s coo.

And then, he appears.

Lewis walks through the kitchen barefoot, hoodie half-zipped, rocking a baby monitor in his hand. His hair is tied in a low bun. He’s yawning. The camera catches it all: a tray of bottles near the sink, a pacifier clipped to his hoodie string, a toy giraffe under his left arm.

“Good morning, mama,” he says to someone off-screen, voice hoarse.

You step into frame, in an oversized sweatshirt and satin shorts, brushing your teeth while holding a baby bottle.

“We overslept,” you mutter with a grin.

“No such thing anymore,” he laughs. “She’s been up since five.”

The reveal is so casual it’s jarring. The camera pans across the room, catching glimpses of your baby girl crawling across a padded mat with a sleepy giggle.

It’s the first time the world sees this side of Lewis Hamilton.

The athlete. The activist. The father.

________

The car is quiet. The baby’s asleep in her car seat. Y/N hums along to a soft Frank Ocean track while Lewis drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting between them, fingers laced with hers.

“You nervous?” you ask, turning to him.

“A little,” he admits. “Never done anything like this before.”

She squeezes his hand. “Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

They pull up to his mother’s house. She’s waiting at the door with open arms and a smile that crinkles at the edges. The hand-off is full of hugs, baby kisses, promises to call every hour.

“I don’t like being away from her,” Lewis murmurs.

“You’re not,” you say, slipping your hand around his waist. “She’s just with your first home, while you go do what you were born to do.”

The camera cuts to Lewis holding his daughter one last time. The kiss he presses to her curls. The way he doesn’t say goodbye—he says, “See you soon, starlight.”

________ 

Silverstone Circuit – 12:10 PM

The girls are pacing.

They’ve been given Ferrari team gear, all personalized, and lanyards with sleek black passes that say GUEST OF DRIVER – L. HAMILTON.

There are nerves in the air. Not just because they’re about to meet him—but because, somehow, they all already feel like this is going to be bigger than they imagined.

And then… he walks in.

Lewis. Real, magnetic, smiling in a way that softens his whole face.

Y/N walks a step behind, notebook in hand, chatting with a member of his team. She’s laughing at something. She looks so at ease in this world, like she belongs in every paddock, in every press pen, in every part of his life.

“Hi,” Lewis says, stepping forward and offering a handshake to each girl. “Thank you for being here. I’m really excited.”

It’s overwhelming. Not just because he’s Lewis Hamilton, but because of the way he sees them. Like they matter. Like this day is as much for him as it is for them.

________ 

They take turns racing against him on the sim. He laughs when Bella crashes into the wall. He gasps dramatically when Tati beats his sector time. He whoops when Jules nails a corner like a pro.

“You’ve all got better instincts than half the grid,” he jokes, clearly loving every second.

Y/N watches from the sidelines, beaming.

During a break, Mimi asks her, “Do you come to all his races?”

She nods. “Most of them. When the baby was really little, I stayed home more. But she loves the sound of engines now, so… here we are.”

“Did you ever think you’d end up in the Formula 1world?”

Y/N laughs softly. “I didn’t think I’d end up in love with someone who lived on planes. But when it’s right, it’s just… easy.”

 ________ 

They sit around a long table with Lewis at the center. The camera catches the way his hand rests against your knee under the table, the way you lean into him to whisper things no one else can hear.

He shares stories—funny, vulnerable ones. About his first go-kart. About getting lost on the way to a race in 2005. About the exact moment he knew Y/N was the one.

It’s not polished. It’s not scripted. It’s just real.

________

Golden hour hits Silverstone like magic.

The four girls stand near the pit wall, headsets on, as Lewis does a few laps around the track. Y/N leans against the rail beside them.

“Does it ever scare you?” Jules asks her.

She looks out toward the turns. “Sometimes. But he’s never reckless. And… he always comes back to me.”

________ 

Lewis returns from the garage, hair damp with sweat, suit unzipped halfway. He collapses into a chair and smiles as you press a water bottle to his chest.

“You were incredible,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head toward the girls. “They made today feel easy.”

The four of them sit down for their final interviews. Every interview of them is emotional, raw, full of passion and gratitud for the amazing opportunity they got to experience.

“I thought today would be about racing,” Bella says. “But it was about connection.”

“I didn’t expect to feel seen by him,” Jules adds. “But I did. All day.”

“I thought Lewis Hamilton would be cool,” Tati grins. “But I didn’t expect him to feel like… someone you’d want to text goodnight.”

“He’s more than a driver,” Mimi whispers. “He’s someone’s home.”

________

The Hamilton Residence – 9:03 PM

Lewis and Y/N sit on the couch later that night, baby monitor between them, baby socks on the table, your legs draped over his lap.

He kisses your hand and looks straight into the camera.

“Winning feels good,” he says. “But this—my family, our life—this is what makes everything else worth it. Now get out! We have a new season of Love on The Spectrum to watch.”

________

The Aftermath

It starts before the sun even rises.

3:41 AM

Tati’s phone buzzes. Then again. Then again.

She groans, blindly reaching for it from under her duvet. Twenty notifications. All from Twitter. All tagged with her username.

Her eyes adjust to the screen just in time to read one tweet that sets her heart racing.

“WAIT. LEWIS HAMILTON HAS A BABY? A WHOLE BABY???”

She blinks.

“That fan episode on Drive to Survive is changing LIVES.” “So we all just collectively missed that Lewis Hamilton is married and a DAD?” “That baby had hair. That baby has been around.”

Tati bolts upright. “GUYS,” she shouts, already tripping over her blanket as she runs to the living room.

4:02 AM

Bella, Jules, and Mimi are already huddled around the TV, eyes wide, hair messy, phones buzzing every second with new mentions and tags. Their group chat has blown up. TikTok edits are already circulating. Screengrabs of Lewis holding a pacifier. GIFs of Y/N laughing while feeding the baby. Fan theories. Reaction threads. F1 accounts going feral.

And the kicker?

A video clip from the episode— Y/N saying, “She’s just with your first home, while you go do what you were born to do.”

Someone captioned it:

“Y/N Hamilton is literally so cute. Lewis really won at life with her as his life partner.”

________

Hamilton Residence – Morning

Y/N stirs awake to the sound of Lewis's voice somewhere down the hall, talking softly into the phone.

“Yeah, Mum. We’re okay… Just a little overwhelmed… No, she’s still asleep.”

You blink against the sunlight and sit up slowly, the baby monitor quiet beside you. For a second, it doesn’t register. The stillness. The weight of what they’d shared with the world. Then your phone lights up.

412 unread messages.

You don’t even open Instagram. You already know it’s chaos.

By the time you wander into the kitchen, Lewis is finishing a call and cradling a mug of tea, his phone face-down beside him.

“Morning, love,” he says gently. “How you feeling?”

You shrug. “Like we just let eight billion people into our house.”

He chuckles, coming over to press a kiss to your forehead. “They liked what they saw.”

You eye him, teasing. “I think they liked what they saw on you, Hamilton. I saw someone call you ‘Daddy squared.’”

He groans and hides his face in your neck. “Make it stop.”

“You started it,” you grin, wrapping your arms around him. “You wanted the world to see who you really are.”

“I didn’t think it would hit this hard.”

The moment softens. Lewis pulls back and searches your face, serious now.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “With the baby being public? With us being out there like that?”

You pause for a long moment, then nod.

“I’m okay. A little exposed, maybe. But… I think it was time. I want people to know the version of you I get to see every day.”

He looks at you for a long beat, like he’s memorizing the way you said that.

Then he whispers, “I love you, you know that?”

You press your palm to his chest. “I know. And I love you right back.”

________

Social Media – Throughout the Day

TikTok: “lewis hamilton being a girl dad for 3 minutes straight”

Instagram: A new fan account called @TeamHamiltonHome already has 20k followers by lunchtime

Twitter: “When Y/N Hamilton said ‘She’s just with your first home’ I actually ascended into another dimension.”

Even other drivers are chiming in.

Charles Leclerc posts a story: “Didn’t expect to cry at 7am over Lewis Hamilton rocking a baby.”

Max Verstappen tweets: “Welcome to the Dad Club, mate 👶🔥”

Sebastian Vettel, in rare Instagram form, posts an old photo of Lewis cradling a helmet and captions it:

“Always knew you’d be a softie off-track too.”

________

Girls’ Apartment – That Night

The four friends are still in pajamas, surrounded by takeout containers and ring lights they didn’t mean to set up but couldn’t resist. They’ve been answering Q&As on Instagram all day, doing interviews with local press, and trying to process the fact that they had front-row seats to a life-changing reveal.

“I think my favorite moment was when he said thank you for making the day easy,” Jules says, curled into a blanket. “Like we made a difference to him.”

“I still can’t believe Y/N hugged me twice,” Mimi laughs. “She smelled like coconut and cashmere and I think I blacked out.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t cry on camera,” Bella says.

“You did,” Tati corrects. “They just edited it out.”

They all laugh.

Then, silence.

Not the awkward kind. The full-heart kind.

“I don’t think anything’s ever going to top this,” Bella whispers.

“Nope,” Jules says, smiling at the ceiling. “This was the moment. Everything before it led us here.”

Mimi hums in agreement. “We met our hero. And he was everything we hoped he’d be.”

“And more,” Tati adds. “He let us into his world.”

“And now?” Bella asks.

They all look at each other.

Jules answers softly: “Now we protect it.”

________

Final shot:

A quiet moment back at Lewis and Y/N’s home. The baby asleep on his chest. Y/N asleep beside them, hand resting on his. The camera lingers.

“Some things are meant to be shared with the world,” Lewis says in a voiceover. “But the best things—the most sacred things—those are the ones you hold closest.”

Fade to black.

THE END.

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Someone Precious I

Caleb x Non MC Reader

a/n: guys pls dkm ive never been to a party so when you read that pls give me the benefit of the doubt 😭, also i don't really want to go into too much detail about any of the explicit scenes that are implied, but there may be a possibility of one more detailed in the other parts! i'm finally free from uni guys so i have more time to do some writing! i finally got around to finishing this (i started right before my finals) hopefully you guys like this first part!

Divider creds @/cafekitsune

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is female and is AFAB, mentions of pregnancy, implied intimate relations (not going into detail), pet names used, mentions of drinking/getting drunk (pls drink responsibly), reader throws up, idk what other tags to add!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

series masterlist

taglist: @aneertawrites @eurydiceknowshesloved @angelichiaro @nommingonfood @ynovaes @animegamerfox

You had known them for years, albeit you joined the infamous duo a little later than when they had met each other, but you all were as thick as theives.

Countless days and nights spent together. More often than not if one of you guys were somewhere, the other two were not far behind.

At first you didn't notice that the way you felt about Caleb was something more than just a friend, how could you? You were just a naive child at the time.

That all changed when Caleb went to high school. You started noticing certain things about him, the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled, how good he looked when he was playing basketball.

You soon were able to put a name to those thoughts and feelings, love. It was like you were exposed to whole new world, everything he did caught your attention and pulled you deeper into that black hole called love.

If only you knew how much pain and turmoil this man would bring to your life.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was near the end of your final year in university when it all happened.

You being the ever delusional girl you were always thought that the fleeting touches and eye contact between you and Caleb were something special, something unique to just the two of you.

How could you ever know that he only ever had one person in his sights, one that wasn't you.

You and MC were getting ready to go to a party, it was meant to be the last one of the year and before graduation.

MC had to beg you to come with her this one last time.

"C'mon it'll be so much fun! It'll be our last party before we graduate! Please?"

You couldn't really say no to her when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

Outwardly, it looked like you were reluctant, but on the inside you were kind of happy to go. Part of it was because you heard from the grapevine that Caleb might be there since some of his friends were going.

Which leads you to your current dilemma, what outfit to wear. You opted to wear a dark blue dress that reached up to your mid thigh. It was a new dress that had been sitting in the back of your closet for some time, now it finally had the chance to see the light of day.

"Hurry up or we're gonna be late!"

You heard MC yell for you.

"I'm coming!"

You responded, hopping around on one foot trying to strap your shoe onto your foot.

Once you successfully had it strapped to your foot, you quickly made your way out the door with MC.

●・○・●・○・●・

The party was in full swing by the time you guys made it there.

You made a beeline for the drinks, wanting to get some water in your system before anything else.

You spotted MC dancing with this one guy she's been talking to recently. He was a sweet guy who was in the same program as her, infamous for being asleep more often than awake. Seeing him at a party was kind of a surprise, but he probably came here because MC said she would be there.

'Looks like I'm gonna be alone tonight.'

You let out a heavy sigh with that thought. Yeah you heard some rumours that Caleb was gonna be there, but you had yet to spot him.

As if the gods above heard your thoughts, he entered your line of vision.

It's like every time you see him he just looks better than before. He was with his friend Gideon as they chatted up the guys who were hosting this party.

It wasn't long before he made spotted you. He made his way over to you with a bright smile.

"Shouldn't you be out there on the dance floor instead of brooding next to the drinks table?"

He reaches out to ruffle your hair, which not only makes you pout but also blush at the contact.

"Hey stop messing up my hair!"

You exclaim as you pull out your phone to start fixing it, Caleb can only laugh as he reaches out again but this time to help you.

You're so glad the lights in here are dim, cause your face was as red as a tomato.

"There, better?"

You gave yourself a once over in the camera and nodded in agreement, the words not coming out.

You turned to Caleb to ask him if he wanted to dance but the words died in your throat before you could even try.

There he stood with his gaze zeroed in on something, you followed it and noticed he had his sights set on MC and Xavier. If it was anyone else they wouldn't have noticed the way his brows furrowed, but because it was you, you noticed.

You always did, you just chose to ignore it because you knew that MC didn't feel anything for him aside from a love that you feel for family.

Unbeknownst to you, she was well aware of the crush you had on Caleb, silently supporting you from the sidelines. She knew you didn't want to make things awkward by admitting it out loud, but sometimes she wishes you would tell her so she could openly support you.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours had passed and you were buzzed.

You and MC were on the dance floor having some fun, that's when you felt those hands on your hips. Turning around you saw it was Caleb, your heart was running a mile minute.

You looked over your shoulder to look for MC but she was nowhere in sight, you took this as your sign to enjoy the moment.

Your poor naive heart thought this was the moment that maybe Caleb actually would look at just you.

Little did you know that this moment would lead to a series of events that would forever change your life.

●・○・●・○・●・

Your body felt sore, and suspiciously cold. Opening your eyes you were greeted with the familiar sheets of your bed, the only thing was that you were in it bare.

Sitting up you felt the ache increase tenfold, both in your head and in your back.

You sifted through your memories to try and understand what happened when it came crashing into you all at once.

'I slept with Caleb.'

You pushed yourself of the bed only to fall to your knees, you felt weak and it was definitely due to your activities from last night.

You were all giddy inside thinking maybe you might be able to take a step in a different direction with Caleb.

That's when you noticed it, the bright sticky note on your bedside table,

I'm sorry, it was a mistake.

It was like fate was laughing in your face, your world came crashing down on you.

You weren't stupid, you know what he meant. You had just a little bit of hope, but even that proved futile.

"Am I not good enough?"

You let the tears slip, steady and silent streams. But you didn't let yourself cry for too long, you needed to get up and move on.

Easier said than done.

You pushed yourself to go clean up and change your sheets, wanting nothing more than to occupy your mind with other things, and to an extent it worked.

Until you were back in bed, that's when you started crying again. Only this time, you were sobbing loudly and it was loud enough to alert your roommate of your distress.

MC came barging in, quickly reaching your side to comfort you.

A very small part of you was jealous of her, and you hated that. She was your best friend, someone who always was there for you and wanted the best for you.

Knowing that she had the one thing you so desperately wanted hurt, but not enough to let it come between your friendship. You valued her presence too much in your life, you just hoped she would still feel the same about you with what you were about to tell her.

●・○・●・○・●・

MC had joined you under the covers after you finished laying your heart bare in front of her, she never once cut you off, said anything or made any reaction aside from a look of understanding and hurt.

She was in no way hurt by your words but rather hurt at the situation, she had totally believed that Caleb was into you, dare she say obsessed with you. She saw the looks and the lingering touches that were exchanged between you two.

She thought it would all work out with time, who knew Caleb would screw it all up. Not just that, but you were under the impression that he was in love with her.

She didn't want to downplay your feelings and thoughts, as a woman she understood. She could only be there for you and show you just how wrong you were, she was determined.

You had fallen asleep a little while ago. You were utterly heartbroken and had been non stop crying as you talked, MC's heart went out to you.

You were her sister, her twin, blood relations or not, she valued you more than anything in the world. She never felt like she was only child, you and Caleb were the siblings she always wanted, she'd be damned if she let Caleb ruin that for you guys.

Little did both of them know, they wouldn't hear from Caleb for almost a year and a half.

●・○・●・○・●・

A month later

It was graduation day.

You and MC have been closer than ever since that day. Caleb had went MIA, not replying to either of you or returning your calls.

You would be lying if you said you still weren't upset about that day and the lack of communication.

'I thought we were thick as thieves but clearly not.'

You were finally graduating, the day you worked so hard for that you made it as Valedictorian of your year.

You were just putting on the final touches of your look when MC came barrelling into your room with her hands behind her back.

She gave you a sly smile before revealing what she had behind her back, a small gift bag.

You laughed as you went to your closet and pulled out a gift bag as well.

You guys were on the same wavelength it seemed.

MC was in shock, you had gotten her that necklace that she had been eyeing a few months back, she even noticed the engraving on it.

My forever sister in every universe

If it wasn't for MC being fully ready to go she would have burst into tears right then and there. She pulled you in for a hug and whispered words of thank you.

She put it on right away, it was the perfect gift for a day like today.

MC handed you the bag she brought. It was also a necklace with an engraving on it. You guys definitely were twin flames, her gift having a similar engraving as yours.

Across galaxies, you're still my sister

Putting on the necklace you pulled MC in for another hug, your heart felt full despite the absence of one particular person, but in that moment nothing mattered but the bond between you and MC.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was nerve wracking giving a speech in front of all those people, but at the same time you had this adrenaline rush pumping through your veins.

The graduation ceremony ended with hats in the air and confetti everywhere.

This marked the end of a chapter and the beginning of a new one.

Only, it would be a chapter filled with experiences you never would have imagined.

●・○・●・○・●・

A week later

You woke up feeling uncomfortable, your throat burned and your stomach felt uneasy. Not even a second after opening your eyes you felt last night's dinner making an appearance the same way it went in.

You bolted to the bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You probably sounded like you were dying because MC soon came bursting into your room.

She held your hair back and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you heaved, tears clouding your vision.

If there was one kind of pain you hated the most it was the pain that came with throwing up. It was agonizing, and your throat burned.

Once you were done, you moved to rinse your mouth while MC left to go get you a drink with electrolytes.

"Are you okay? I know I'm not the best at cooking but I didn't think dinner would be that bad."

MC joked as she handed you a bottle of coconut water. You let out a small chuckle before taking a sip.

"It's weird, I don't think it was your cooking. I've been feeling super nauseous lately and I can't even stand the smell of some foods."

You tell her, she smacks your arm jokingly for not denying her cooking skills, or the lack of them.

"Wait, what if you're pregnant?"

MC said, you laughed her off.

"No way, I haven't even slept..."

The words died in your throat, flashbacks from that night came crashing into your headspace. You never forgot that night, but you definitely did not remember whether you guys had used protection or not.

MC offered to stop by the pharmacy to grab you a couple of pregnancy test, saying it didn't hurt to at least try.

While you waited for her you looked through your calendar, trying to remember when you had your last period.

'Shit. I'm late.'

You paced around the room nervously fidgeting with your fingers, your thoughts were a mess.

MC came back in record breaking time with a couple of bags, one filled with different brands of tests and the other had some of your favourite snacks.

●・○・●・○・●・

You followed the directions and sat on the edge of the tub with MC, waiting for the results.

You were bouncing your knee, the nervousness kicking in ten fold. MC placed a hand on your leg in an effort to reassure you, her eyes saying that she would support you no matter what.

MC checked the results first, you didn't think you could handle looking at it.

She turned around and showed you one of the tests, and that's when you saw it.

Two red lines.

You were pregnant.

[keijisdolll]

#K. AKAASHI |

NSFW ( ＾◡＾)っ✂╰⋃╯

blurred lines . . . ❤︎

(i wrote this rly late at night so it kinda switches between second and third person + its my first time... dont mind pls ⛄︎)

to say you and keiji were just friends was a little... vague to say the least.

not even a little, absolute bullshit.

you two go way back; always at one another's homes every saturday or friday night, playing games with kotaro or just binging movies together- all that cute stuff. obviously, you two love each other, dare i say are in love with each other, but it's just never been a point of discussion. despite all the stolen glances, his obsession with kissing the top of your head or holding your hips, you guys have just … never talked about it.

it's not that you didn't want to talk about it, you wanted more than anything to do unspeakable things to that man for years now...who wouldn't?

but of course, all you could do every passing day was pray that something could magically change and you'd have his affection and sweet words to yourself every day. he probably has his reasons too for not just folding and confessing already. hopefully if he even reciprocates.

but when he asked you to be his roommate and share a dorm with him two years ago at the beginning of university, how could you tell someone so pretty no?

that pretty much never helped the increasing tension between you both - sexually, or romantically.... but hey, the no confessions game was still going strong.

even now, when keiji just returned back to your shared dorm from one of his later classes, he found you laid out on the plushness of the couch, your cutely decorated laptop resting on your bare thighs as you were wearing a cute pair of pajama shorts. a few short sentences on the illuminated screen of your laptop which screams to him that you were probably just assigned a research paper.

"new paper assigned n/n?" he hummed softly as he rested his bag on the floor near the door and taking off his shoes.

"mm yeah... only thing is that it's due in 2 days.." she huffed softly with a little pout, a face he knew meant she was stressed.

"yeah? how much words is it?" he hummed softly, sitting next to her laid body on the couch.

y/n turned her laptop to an angle keiji can see it, an email from her professor which explained her prompt and the word count.

damn.

"only two days? that has to be a mistake." he raised his brows, adjusting his glasses.

"its not..." she sighed softly. "i asked him about it in class. he was dead serious keiji...my grade is so done. i don't even know what to write about. all i got done was the context." y/n turned to him, a pout on her lips.

he sighed, "calm down, okay? stressing out this much isn't gonna help you n/n." his hand went to her cheek, his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek. damn him and his charm.

"come here, i'll help you." he murmured, his arms gently taking her arms to help her sit up and come up onto his lap.

and around 3 hours later, despite the evident exhaustion in both of you from this damn essay, you were a little more than half way through the word count.

"god...you're the best keiji..." she sighed softly, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

he chuckled, a familiar one that never really failed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. "can't have my favorite girl stressing now can i?" he ruffled her hair gently.

holy fuck.

why he made her sit in his lap was beyond her. all she knew was that his little name that he just called her made her clench around absolutely nothing, and she was so sick of this back and forth of trying to act like he didn't have an effect on her.

so she purposely squirmed on his lap while pretending to read an article, her ass moving teasingly but in a subtle way. she knew her subtle grinding didn't by any means go unnoticed by him, not how his slender fingers dug a little harder into her hips, and definitely not how his breathing grew more ragged.

"hey... n/n... you're squirming a little...please... it's distracting me..." he spoke with a strained voice, trying not to breathe noticeably.

"hm..?" she looked back at him, who knew how worked up subtle grinding can get him, his cheeks were insanely flushed, his fingers uncontrollably going on her bare thighs.

"come... get off n/n-" he panicked a little, his arms pulling up her torso to pick her up and trying to place her back onto the couch, but she went right back down, on his fucking bulge.

"oh fuck.." he choked out quietly his head going back against the arm rest.

"you're that hard from me barely even grinding?" she started. no turning back now for her. and to her surprise, all those years of chasing and wondering if he wanted her back... she felt so relieved from his next words.

"i can't fucking help it with you.." he swore helplessly. his needy hands guiding her hips to rub herself against his obvious bulge. "all this time and you don't think that i've been wanting to kiss you senseless since highschool..?"

and from that, her lips were on his, sharing wet and sloppy kisses that were making him leak pre cum into his sweatpants. grinding on his lap so nicely that she had him cursing into their sloppy kiss.

they eventually pulled away, a thin string of saliva between their mouths as her arms came up around his neck to steady herself as she ground on his bulge. gosh, his fucking print was so visible to her too from his sweatpants.

"fuck...i love you keiji.."

and within less than two minutes, your cute pajama shorts laid on the floor of your bedroom along with his sweatpants.

his hand held a handful of your hair while his other rested on the plush curve of your ass. his hips were thrusting so good into your drenched cunt, the room practically filled with the sound of your plush ass slapping against his hips and your muffled moans as he just sweet talked you.

damm him.

"god... you dont know how long i wanted to fuck you.." he panted into your ear, his skin slick with sweat

"keiji..." she cried helplessly beneath him.

"mhm baby... i got you...taking my cock so well." he murmured, his large hand squeezing her ass softly.

"you're so fucking pretty n/n, you know that?" he mumbled, placing sweet kisses and sucking hickeys onto her neck, his thrusts getting harder.

she couldn't even form a coherent sentence anymore. it's not like he was being crazy rough, but his cock was fucking long. and at a moderate, more fast pace like what he was doing, she felt as if she was seeing stars.

"ah...mmph..." she moaned sweetly into the pillow, knowing he was about to cum from how sloppy his thrusts were getting.

"mmh... there you go... oh fuck baby.." he panted, pulling out. his hand that was holding your hair let go, pumping slowly as thick and hot cum landed on your plush ass.

she panted softly into the pillows, her hips lowering from where he held them up as she rolled onto her back, his cum on her skin getting onto the sheets.

he panted soflty, pulling her into his arms and pressing a gentle loving kiss on her shoulder, while mumbling a soft, "i've always loved you baby."

its my first time writing so pls leave tips jjfnjjngjngjngjtn

[foreingersgod]

Softcore . CH

paring: caroline harvey x reader

synopsis: is this love really worth saving? or has it already run its course?

wc: 3.8k

A/N: this came out a lot like "champagne coast" that i wrote for caitlin clark, so if you like fics like this, you should go check that one out as well :)

this one is dedicated to @wnba123! sorry it took so long for me to get to your request queen; hope you like it!

WARNING!!! this fic is angst to comfort/smut!!! this piece will be completely SFW up UNTIL THE DIVIDER. if you do not wish to engage with the smut portion or are a man or a minor. please heed this warning and do not read past the warning line. thank you!

it's exhausting. exhausting to mourn someone who's still alive. who sleeps next to you nearly every night, shares your home, your heart, your soul.

but it feels like she's already left you, at least, in all the ways that matter. her laugh no longer lights the room, her eyes drifting away from yours-off to some reality you can't reach. you talk, but it's nothing more than an empty echo down a hallway. you kiss her, but her lips are cold and rough, like pressing your lips to a memory. you hold her, but you almost feel fuller when you're alone.

you never thought that this is where you'd stand, in a love that's fighting to stay alive. at least not with caroline. but you can feel it, the ember that's begging to be fed, it's there.

you probably should've seen it coming, and you battled yourself every day for it. that you were a fool, and you've been playing that role for much longer than you had realized. letting this sense of unfamiliarity unravel until it pushed both of you to your limits. because how are you supposed to bury a love that's still breathing?

but maybe it wouldn't be hurting this much if it hadn't once been so beautiful.

you met when you were both sixteen-awkward and loud and painfully alive with so much to give. she'd write you love letters, shove them into the crack of your locker. you'd wear her favorite hockey sweatshirt for 2 years straight, well-loved with the scent of her lingering on it even after washing it. you'd sit with each other under the bleachers, the world around you ready to prepare you for it all to end. but you never grew out of it, rather you grew up into it.

college, jobs, your first apartments. then eventually your first apartment together. promise rings that didn't feel rushed-it felt inevitable.

but somewhere between the 9 a.m. meetings and the late-night grocery runs. between the laundry piles and forgotten kisses, something slipped. she'd come home tired, sweaty and frustrated with dreams so big they'd weigh her down. and you'd stay quiet, elbow deep in dirty dishes with a shoulder ready to cry on.

you'd shamefully scroll on your phone during dinner-if you even bothered to sit together anymore-because it was far easier than trying to make mindless small talk. with every 'how was your day', there was a 'fine' and it hurt. you'd sleep facing away. not in anger, just habit. and she'd do the same. every so often a hand would brush against your thigh, a faint apology whispered in your ear when she came home exasperated once again.

but you still love her. always have and always will. you loved her so much that your devotion was merely intensified by her absence. though it's so quiet now-how this love has turned out to be.

she'd used to hold your hand in the car, caress her thumb over yours at painfully long red lights. now her hands stay glued to the steering wheel. she used to trace the letters of your initials on your bare back before bed because she knew the feeling soothed you, now you run your own fingers up and down the length of your arm instead.

you catch yourself staring at her sometimes. just searching. trying to find the young girl you fell in love with all those years ago. the girl you kissed on the football field after sneaking out of junior prom, the girl who ditched class just so she could have lunch with you every day. the girl who once said "i want every version of you, even the ones you don't like".

and maybe she was in there still, rather you knew she was. but is she too far gone to save at this point? because it's easier to pretend nothing's wrong than to admit that it's broken, even if you both know it.

you weren't even trying to start something that night. it was late, a long a grueling thursday. one of those nights where the silence is louder than the TV, the traffic outside your apartment blaring louder than usual. you were folding laundry on the couch, a hamper between your legs as you tossed t-shirt after t-shirt into a stack next to you.

you had been particularly sad that day, waking up without your girlfriend next to you. early practices again, it had seemed. she didn't even bother to tell you. suddenly in that moment, it all came crashing down on you. the weight of the uncertainty ahead of you gripping at your heart. it must've been hours that you cried that morning, uncontrollable and inconsolable. you couldn't stand it anymore.

she had walked into the apartment quietly at around 10 p.m., barely acknowledging your presence on the couch as she locked the door behind her. you could already tell from the way her shoulders slumped and the way her eyes glistened in the lamp light, that she was starting to feel the weight of all this too. or maybe it was just the way she never looked at you anymore-not really.

few words were exchanged as she slipped off her shoes, letting her bag fall to the ground. you offered her a sweet smile as you reminded her that dinner was in the fridge for her. surprisingly, she smiled back and retreated to the kitchen to eat for probably the first time that day. you could see her, from the opening between the living room and the kitchen, that she was picking at her meal, head down and phone in her hands.

you weren't sure what summoned the courage in that moment. could've been fear, could've been exhaustion. but you remember opening your mouth just so slightly, muttering out the vaguest of words.

"we don't talk anymore"

there was a pause, the clanking of silverware on porcelain, the impact of her phone on the countertop. every noise just a little too crisp for your liking.

then, finally looking at you in the eyes for the first time all night, she spoke. "we're talking now"

that did it. flipped the switch in you for good, all the feelings from that morning bubbling up past your throat.

you let out a dry laugh as you dropped the hoodie you had just folded on the coffee table in front of you. back extending from the irritation curling in your spine, you leaned back on the couch with a furrowed look on your face.

"you think this counts? this isn't talking" you huffed, trying not to escalate a situation that hadn't fully begun "this is coexisting, this is pretending"

she stood, with the same composure she held when she arrived home, as she propped herself against the edge of the kitchen island. her arms were crossed, face unreadable, shoulders rolled back.

"what do you want me to say?"

"i want you to say something," you snapped "anything real, truthfully. i want you. i want you to stop looking through me like i'm a ghost"

her voice was tight, and you could see her jaw clench as she bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek "i'm doing my best okay? i-i go to practice, i'm going to classes, and then i'm here. i'm home with you, i'm showing up-"

"no you're not!" you cut in with a raise in your voice, throwing up your arms in disbelief. did she really think that? that she was here, like she had always been and nothing had changed? "you're physically here, yeah, but everything else? your heart, your head? you left months ago and you didn't even tell me"

silence. your voice cracked, a sob pushing at the back of your ribs, spilling past your chapped lips. you breathed deeply as you fought back the tears.

"maybe," she said, softly, arms uncrossing as she ran her hands down her face in defeat "i didn't want to admit it. that something was off, that i was off"

you blinked, tears welling at your lash line, frozen in place "what does that mean?"

you studied her expression, her body language. she looked beat, bags like tattoos underneath her eyes, hair unkempt and disheveled. it wasn't just an end-of-day look of weariness. it was like her soul was slowly shattering.

"i think we're too young" she choked up, regret laced in her tone "i-i think we got caught up in forever you know? before we even figured out who we were. we went from prom to rent, from curfews to car payments. and i don't know-i'm tired"

"tired of what?" you trembled "of me?"

"no. don't twist this. i'm tired of whatever this has been, we both know that. we jumped into life like we had it all figured out at sixteen"

that was it. too young. too soon.

you had danced around that significant detail forever. both of you too afraid to say it out loud, to risk losing what had become your normal, not wanting to lose everything you had built.

"so what, you-" you cleared your throat, finally letting a single tear spill "you think this was a mistake?"

"i think we didn't know what we were giving up," she shook her head, coming over to sit on the couch next to you, the cushion dipping under her weight "i never got to find out who i was without you-and that's not fair to you either"

you felt like your world just came crumbling down, her words like a plague. years of love and passion, absolutely destroyed. how could this be true, how could she possibly believe all this? this may have been what you feared all along; you were the fool who only held her back.

"then go" you said through gritted teeth, shutting your eyes like this would all go away if you wished hard enough "if you want the space-to find yourself or whatever, then go. i'm not going to hold you here"

"that's not what i'm saying" she said desperately. then you felt the pressure, her hand on your upper thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze. igniting that sense of comfort you knew you once had.

"then what are you saying exactly?"

she didn't answer right away. she just looked at you, like she was seeing you for the first time in a long time. caroline watched as you unraveled in front of her, bursting into dreadful tears and worried hiccups. she saw the way you brought a hand up to support your forehead, like the pressure of it all had knocked the wind out of you.

"babe," she said through the tension "i miss you, i miss us. i miss the way we used to look at each other like this was all worth something in the end. now i just feel like this weight dragging you down. i'm so busy with this idea of success, to be the best girlfriend, the best teammate and player...i don't know. i miss not being like this"

you felt your breath catch on what felt like nothing. but you noticed it, the slight shift in the room. nothing was fixed, nothing was healed, but maybe there was a lick of hope that teetered between you. with glossy eyes, you looked over at her and sighed.

"i still see her, you know?" you briefly smiled "that dorky teenage girl who would throw rocks at my bedroom window just so she could say goodnight. that treated me like her entire world even if it may have been too soon, the one who promised she'd never stop loving me. i still see her"

it was her turn to return your smile, her genuine laugh cascading through the room "i think i may have lost her through all the bills and late nights. probably when we stopped kissing each other goodnight"

you swallowed with an ache of motivation in your chest, biting at your lips. her expression mirrored yours, just two lost hearts searching for the right answer. though part of you wished you could pause the moment, scared for what was about to come next. you'd hoped you could soak this in for just another minute, truly memorize the remorse written all over your girlfriend's face.

"i think," you said gently "if we try-really try-we can find her again. same for me, i'm not innocent in any of this. but babe, i-i don't want to lose you. i want to be us again"

she leaned in close to you, hand still resting on your leg, barely an inch between you two. you could feel her breath against your cheek as you leaned back, lips ghosting over hers.

"even if they've changed?" she whispered.

"especially if they have" you said "we're a little lost but...i think we've found the map"

she reached for your hand first-tentative, like it was fragile. then, without a second thought, you placed your hand against her freckled cheek and brought her in closer to you.

finally, after all the silence, she closed the gap between you with a kiss. it wasn't rushed, nor was it cinematic. but it was slow and sweet, careful and desperate. it felt like you had been underwater after all this time, and you were finally getting the chance to breathe again.

it was the kind of kiss that didn't erase the pain but promised to stay through it.

"i don't want to go," she said as she pulled away, resting her forehead on yours "what you said before. i don't want to go be someone else, i wanna stay right here"

it was like she was surrendering. putting her heart on her sleeve to show you this was worth it to her. sure, you may have been young, but you certainly didn't fall out of love. this was your girl, your everything, your absolute soulmate. neither one of you intended to let go anytime soon, even if all you had were promises.

"then don't" you panted, passion taking over your body. you trailed your hands down to her chest, fingers clenching onto the fabric like you might lose her as you pulled her against your lips once more. this time, this kiss had been hungry and pure.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

she groaned quietly into mouth at your sudden sense of boldness. her fingers reached for your hair, tangling in your soft locks. she was grasping onto you with the same urgency. there was no letting go. not after this.

your hands were firm against her torso, fingertips roaming the cotton of her top like you'd never touched such a material. you were drawing her in like gravity had finally kicked in, like your bodies were catching up to what your minds already knew-you weren't done with her yet. you were far from it, in fact. the heat between you was electric, but it wasn't just lust. it was years. it was history and heartache, a collection of the love you and caroline had reveled in since you were in high school.

"are you sure?" she asked, forcing you to look at her. she didn't need to say anything else, the fire building between you made it clear what she was talking about. you nodded, your fingers tracing her cupids bow delicately. even after all this distance, she still wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

her lips moved with purpose, with need, like she was pouring all her apologies and promises into every second. It was a kiss that said don’t ever doubt me again, a kiss that said I’m still here. You responded with the same vulnerability, parting her lips with yours, your hand rising to cradle the back of her neck, keeping her close, grounded.

her hands snaked below the hem of your shirt and spread across your chest, palming your breasts just enough to make you gasp. you hadn't felt her touch you like this in so long-like she actually wanted you, still after all these years. nothing forced, just an incessant need to have you.

and god, you needed to have her too.

"i can't tell you how much i missed this" she muttered against your jaw as you kissed down her neck, tasting the saltiness of her post-practice skin. but oddly it was sweet, something far more intimate than just sex "let me take you to bed?"

with a satisfied hum, you let her assist you off the couch. her hands were still on your waist, lips still grazing that one spot that made you weak. it was a chaotic walk to the bedroom, a mess of exasperated giggles and discarded clothes until the back of your knees met with the edge of your bed.

"please," caroline spoke again threw the heated kisses. you could feel her shudder against you, her skin forming small bumps underneath your fingertips. she reluctantly forced her lips off of yours as she laid you down against the linen sheets, climbing ever so carefully to hover over you "please"

you chuckled, feeling her maneuver down your body, resting her head against your chest. but your laughter soon stopped when you felt wetness fall onto your abdomen.

was she crying?

"baby," you cooed, taking a hold of her chin to motion her to look up at you "please what? what's wrong?"

she glanced up at you with panic in her eyes. tears fell down her flushed cheeks gingerly as she sniffled. you waited patiently for her to answer as you ran your hand along her shoulder to settle her. you couldn't quite explain the look on her face-the way her body felt completely bare against you-but it was the most painful yet calming thing you had ever seen. she looked so unguarded in front of you, ready to lay everything out for you to take. but she had seemed firm, ready to tackle the growth that this relationship desperately needed.

"let me stay," her voice quivered as more tears fell "i'm so sorry. for everything. i don't want to find myself if it means losing you-so please just...let me stay"

"caroline" your heart broke just hearing that sentence, twinging at the thought of her thinking you actually wanted her gone "you're home, you're my home. i don't think i'd survive if you left"

a hard puff billowed from her throat in relief "i'm gonna be better i swear"

"i know," you smiled "we both will"

and then the world around you melted, it was just the two of you in the confinements of your bedroom. caroline didn't waste another second to get her hands on you again, and you weren't complaining. you'd waited forever to feel like this again.

her lips moved towards your navel as she traveled lower and lower down your figure, cherishing every inch of you. you let out a content sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you let your bodies do all the talking. you feared you'd both be crying if you said much else.

the chill air made you shiver, but caroline was quick to warm you as she breathed against your core. you felt needy and hot, almost impatient as she took her time admiring you. reminiscing on these moments where you were splayed out just for her. but you were growing weary the more dottled.

"don't tease" you whined into vacancy.

"m'not" she grinned "i'll give you want you need baby, don't worry. let me take care of you"

always one to give, always one to please. and you loved it. her palms planted against the plushness of your thighs, spreading you even more open than you already were. kisses trailed from the inside of your legs then finally to where you needed her most-whining when she placed a delicate kiss to your needy pussy.

"fuck," you said, one hand instinctively coming up to grasp at your tits, the other flying to the back of her head to keep her in place.

she moaned into you, loving the pressure as she quickened her pace. her tongue glided across your pussy, flattening out to lick a long and slow stripe. you bit at your lip to try and submerse your whimpers, hearing her hum slightly as she flicked her tongue over your clit relentlessly, only making you grasp at her hair tighter.

that did nothing but motivate her, giving her the reassurance she'd been craving since she got you naked. her tongue continued its assault against you despite your quiet pleas and restless movements, her eyes looking up at you like you were sent from the gods themselves.

"fuck, i love you so much" she said, temporarily releasing your clit from between her lips "you have no idea"

your brows raised in anticipation as you felt the pressure build up in your lower stomach, watching her in awe when she buried her face back in between your thighs. your legs began to tremble and your knuckles grew white the closer you got to release.

"i love you too," you blabbered "i love you i love i love you, shit, i'm so close"

"taste so good," she responded, the strokes of her tongue getting sloppier by the second, enticing a short cry out of you.

you jerked forward, back arching off the mattress when you felt her speed up. the wetness that accumulated from your cunt, mixed with that of her mouth was just enough to send you over the edge. she could sense that you were close, letting her tongue prod at your entrance to move in and out of you-exactly what she knew you liked. she remained steady with you, watching you closely as you fucked yourself on her mouth.

"that's it, that's it" you cried, letting your hips buck against her face. your body spasmed as your orgasm began to take over, eyes rolling back from the sensation "fuck i'm gonna come, oh my god"

"there you go, baby" she mumbled into your pussy, absolutely lost in the feeling of you coming undone on her mouth "come for me, i got you"

you let out one last long moan as you relished your high, chest rising and falling to catch your breath. caroline was quick to remove herself from her position, only to hover over you once more for a kiss. your heart was pounding, brain fuzzy and body still twitching.

"you okay?" her voice muffled through the kiss. you nodded, smirking as you felt your taste still on her tongue.

"more than okay," you said. she smiled back before laying down beside you, brushing your messy hair from your face in the process. you allowed yourself to completely envelop yourself around her, limbs tangling with hers loosely.

after a few minutes of silence-your skin on hers, hearts beating in unison, touches wandering-she found the will the speak.

"we're gonna be okay, right?" she said. you breathed, silencing her worry as you rubbed circles with your thumb against her cheekbone.

"yeah, baby" you beamed "we always are"

[stanart4clearskin]

Hey, please write for art Donaldson! I was thinking something like massage therapist/ physiotherapist!reader x art, or loser art!, or dilf! Art. Anyways please and thank you!

-Anon

art knew it was wrong that he sprouted a boner every single time he had a session with you. he knew that he should probably find a new massage therapist who wasn’t as pretty, didn’t have such a sweet voice—but god, art could never actually bring himself to do it. he would stare at your number on his phone, finger hovering over the call button. all it would take was a few minutes and you’d be gone from his life, but he just couldn’t do it. your hands were so soft and gentle against his skin as you massaged the knots out of his back and art found himself buzzing with excitement before each session.

“how has your back been feeling?” you asked art as you grabbed out the various oils that you would be needed.

his cheeks flushed as he stripped down to his boxers and sat down on the bench. “it’s been feeling a lot better, thanks to you.”

you smiled at his words and warmed up a small bottle of rose scented oil in your hands—it was art’s favorite. he’d never admit it, but the only reason it was his favorite was because you always smelled like roses.

“is there anything in particular that’s been bothering you lately?” you waited for art to lay on his stomach. when he did you poured a small puddle of the rose oil onto his back. when you began to massage it into his skin, art had to bite down a moan. he’d always been sensitive to touch, but your touch was other-worldly.

he hesitated before talking. he knew this would be a risky move but it was now or never—he’d be off on tour next month so he wouldn’t be seeing you soon after this session. “my uh… thigh has been cramping lately.”

if you knew his motive, you didn’t comment on it. “thigh? i can work on that,” you said, wiping you hands off on a towel while art sat up. you poured a small amount of oil onto your hands and began to massage his left thigh.

unexpectedly a small whine left art when your hand brushed against him. he had already started to tent in his boxers. art knew you had noticed, but you were kind enough to not mention it.

you raised an eyebrow and glanced at art. “everything okay?”

his cheeks flushed pink. “y-yeah. just a little sensitive, that’s all.”

you nodded. “just let me know if anything hurts.” you continued to massage his thighs and every so often you would deliberately brush your hand against him. you saw the way he tried to hold back a moan and it was honestly endearing.

the longer you continued to massage him, the closer your hand got to his straining boxers. you smirked when another whine left him and he went even redder.

“does that feel good?” you asked with faux innocence, smiling at art. you thought the poor man would pass out anytime soon. he clenched his jaw and looked anywhere but at you.

the man simply nodded and let you continue his ministrations. you both knew how fucked up this was—art had a wife and kid—but neither of you could find it in yourself to stop. your hands began to wander, lingering at the waistband of his boxers. without a word he lifted his hips slightly so that you could tug them down and off.

you bit your lip to hide your smile when you saw how he was leaking at the tip. it was adorably really that a grown man managed to get this flustered by a few simple touches. your eyes met his and you raised your eyebrows slightly, asking permission. he nodded and with that you were sinking down to your knees in front of him. you’d dreamt about being in this position for weeks, but now that it was finally happening you couldn’t help but be nervous.

sure you’ve had some experience being on the giving end but it had never been with someone you liked as much as art. he seemed to notice your hesitancy and cupped your cheek. his hands were rough with calluses from his years of playing tennis but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch like a cat.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his voice low. it sent a rack of shivers through your body. you shook your head, “i know. i want to.”

his hand went from your cheek to gently gripping your hair. art encouraged your head down and you followed. you parted your lips and licked a hot stripe up his length. his grip tightened and he instinctively pushed your head down further. when you finally took him into you mouth, art thought he could die. he’d never felt anything like this before and it was perfection.

—

by the time art’s official session was over, the two of you were laid out on the floor of your office, breathless. art had you tucked into his side, one arm around your waist and the other playing with the strands of your hair. neither of you had spoken a word in the past few minutes. you were both afraid if you did, you’d break the illusion that this could mean something.

so instead of speaking, the two of you got dressed and art left you with a kiss on the forehead. you sanitized every surface before your next client arrived. you knew just how fucked things were going to get, but for a moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

lowkey the writing just got worse as this went on

[toldthatdevil]

Little Fish

pairings: WandaNat x Little!Reader

Content: swimming lessons, first time at a water park, protective mommies, age regression

A/N: so this ask actually disappeared from my inbox and im so glad I had it saved in my notes because I really got into this one so thank you to the anon that sent it to me.

p.s if you sent in an ask and I never responded to it, it might be because it has also disappeared so feel free to send it in again!

Prompt: Hihi i dunno if this is where we request things but could you maybe write wandanat x little!reader with maybe a trip to a water park or going swimming or something please? Maybe teaching her how to swim? I can't swim and I miss summer.

It was the height of summer. The worst season ever, because it meant you were always hot and always sweaty. It was the kind of hot that made all of your clothes cling to your skin and your hair feel like a sticky mess if it wasn’t tied up properly. But today your mommies were trying to make your summer a little less awful, because today they were taking you to the water park. 

The drive felt like it was taking forever. You were practically vibrating in your car seat with excitement, asking, “Are we there yet?” every five minutes, much to Natasha and Wanda’s amusement. But, finally, finally, the twisting water slides appeared in the distance, and you pressed your face against the glass, straining to get a better look.

“Someone’s excited,” Natasha smirked, catching you bouncing in the rearview mirror.

Wanda turned around in her seat, brushing your knee with her hand to get your attention. “Remember our rule, sweetheart? You stay close, and tell mommy or me if it starts to feel like too much.”

You nodded eagerly, too busy staring out the window at the water slides to answer. This was your very first time at a water park, and even though you couldn’t really swim—if at all—your mommies had promised they’d stay with you the whole time, no matter what.

Once the car was parked, Natasha helped you out of your car seat while Wanda grabbed the bags from the trunk.  Together, you joined the queue to enter the park ,then made your way to the family changing room. 

Inside, Wanda knelt down helping you out of your clothes and into your swimsuit. “Arms up,” she prompted gently. You obeyed with a giggle, delighted as she helped you wriggle into your swimsuit.

But then came the worst part. 

“Sunscreen time,” Natasha announced, kneeling in front of you with the bottle in her hand. “Hold still, lovebug,” she said, trying to smother the cold lotion onto your skin.

“Eww! It’s yucky!” you whined, trying to squirm away. You knew sunscreen was important, but did it always have to feel so cold? You felt Wanda’s hands rest gently but firmly on your shoulders to stop you squirming even more.

“Just a little more,” Wanda soothed, bending down to kiss your cheek. “We don’t want you coming home looking like a tomato, now do we?”

You sighed and gave a reluctant nod, murmuring a soft “hm” as you finally gave in.

“And done,” Natasha said with a satisfied nod, tossing the bottle back into the beach bag.

You immediately turned scrambling toward the door, your hand already on the handle. “Can we go, can we go?”

Behind you, Wanda was half naked, she hadn’t even had time to put her bikini bra on before you opened the door.

“Hey—! Wait, wait!” Wanda gasped, fumbling to cover herself before you could swing the door all the way open exposing her. “Mama’s not trying to flash the whole water park here, sweetheart.”

Natasha chuckled from where she was folding your clothes back into the bag. “Easy, tiger,” she said with a teasing glance.

Wanda smirked as she finally got the ties of her bikini top secured. 

“Ugh,” you groaned dramatically, bouncing on your heels as you waited. “Can we go now?!” 

“Hm…” Wanda drew out the sound as she looked you over thoughtfully. “I don’t know… I think something’s missing.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What?”

She knelt down beside one of the bags on the floor and unzipped it.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, with a smile.

Your eyes widened as she revealed a pair of colourful armband floats and a floatie shaped exactly like your favourite animal.

“Mama!” you gasped, reaching out with grabby hands. “I love them!”

Natasha and Wanda chuckled, happy with your reaction.

“What do we say?” Natasha prompted gently, one eyebrow raised as she stood and slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed in delight, throwing your arms around your mama and hugging her tightly.

————

The water park was… a lot.

It was bigger than you imagined. Louder too. You stood there hesitantly, unsure of what to do first. You watched as the other children darted past you, shrieking with laughter, water splashing everywhere. There were so many people and it all felt like chaos, which was exciting but also overwhelming. 

You reached for your mommies’ hands without thinking, suddenly feeling very, very small.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured, sensing your nervousness. “How about we start with something gentle? We could try the lazy river, hm?”

You nodded, not entirely sure what that was but trusting your mommy’s suggestion. 

You didn’t have to wait in line long before, you were settling into your brightly coloured inflatable ring. Natasha held it steady for you so you didn’t drift off, then climbed into her own once Wanda had settled into hers.

You could feel the current tugging at you gently eager to move and for a moment you were worried that as soon as Natasha let go you would be whisked away, but she didn’t. The water stayed slow and gently, carrying all three of you along.

You trailed your fingers through the warm water, watching the ripples spread. One loop around the river turned into two before you even realised, and you were secretly hoping to go around a third time but Wanda gave your ring a soft nudge.

“Alright, little fish,” she smiled, “let’s try something else?”

———

After the lazy river, you wandered through the park for a while, taking everything in from the safety of your mommies arms. They took turns giving you piggy backs when you complained that the ground was getting too hot for your bare feet. Together you looked at the wave pool, watched the bigger kids zoom down the slides that were way too tall for you, and found it particularly hilarious to watch the giant water buckets fill up and tip over, splashing water onto people’s heads.

Eventually though your tummy started to rumble.

You ate lunch with your mommies by the lagoon pool, munching on sandwiches and fruit cups. As you ate your food, you watched the other kids slide down the smaller slides nearby, eyes glued to them.

You were too small for the big slides you saw earlier,  but these ones looked smaller, something you might be able to try. 

“You wanna try it out, lovebug?” Natasha asked, following your gaze. 

You bit your lip. You really wanted to… but it was new and that made it scary. 

“I can go with you,” she offered gently. “You can sit right in my lap the whole way down.”

You looked at your mama, unsure. Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, her voice soft as she spoke. “You can do it sweetheart,” she said, her eyes warm and reassuring. 

That was all you needed to hear to convince you. You nodded, but you were only going if mommy went with you like she said she would, and if mama would wait for you in the pool below.

Taking a deep breath, you started to climb the metal stairs. Natasha’s hand found yours, steadying your nerves as you climbed, but still each step forward made your heart beat faster and butterflies flutter in your belly. Natasha’s voice was soft and low beside you so only you could hear, soothing you gently. “You’ve got this, lovebug. We’re almost there.”

When you reached the top, you realised just how high up you were. It didn’t look that tall from the ground but now you were here you were unsure if you could do it at all. 

You watched as Natasha sat down first on the slide, the water rushing past her. She reached out her arms for you but you stood there hesitantly. “Come on, squirt” she said.

Carefully you shuffled over to her and she pulled you effortlessly into her lap.

“Ready?” she asked, adjusting you slightly so you were secure. You gave her a nervous nod, and with your approval she pushed off gently, starting your descent down the slide.

You screamed the entire way down, clinging to her as you whooshed around the bends of the slide, cold water spraying your face. You had your eyes shut tight the entire way down, so the big splash into the pool took you by complete surprise. 

You felt Natasha’s grip tighten on your waist just before bringing you up above the water. 

As you wiped the water from your face and blinked your eyes open, you saw your mama waiting right where she said she’d be. In the pool, only she had a waterproof camera in hand. 

“You did it, sweetheart!” she cheered, beaming. She waded over and planted a big kiss on your cheeks, making you giggle.

“Again!!” you shouted as soon as you caught your breath.

Natasha laughed. “Could you hear her screaming the whole way down?”

“I’m pretty sure half of the park heard her,” Wanda laughed. 

—————

The rest of the afternoon consisted of waiting in line for the same exact slide, over and over again and running around in the splash pads. 

But there was only one thing left you really wanted to try: the wave pool.

Wanda frowned slightly. “I think you might be too little, sweetheart…”

Your bottom lip wobbled. “Please, Mommy?” you whispered, turning to Natasha. You knew Natasha was much easier to convince than your mama.

Natasha sighed, and looked over at Wanda. “Maybe we give her a quick swimming lesson first?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. She glanced between the two of you, looking at your hopeful little face made her soften, just a bit.

“Okay,” she said finally, “but I want to see you swimming like a little fish before we even think about the waves.”

—————

“I can’t do it mommy,” you whimpered, your little toes curling over the edge of the pool. Even though the water was shallow and you could see the bottom, see the toys that had sunk down there waiting to be recovered. it was still so scary.

“Yes you can,” Natasha encouraged from the water, her red hair now pulled back into a ponytail, her arms wide open for you, “you’re so brave, I know you can do this.”

“And I’m right behind you,” Wanda added, rubbing small circles on your back but your heart still felt as though it was going to beat its way out from your ribcage.

“What if I sink?” you asked in a small voice, feeling yourself slipping deeper into your headspace.

Wanda knelt beside you, taking your hands gently in hers. “Watch,” her voice was soft. She waved a hand and tendrils of her red magic rippled through the water, and a toy that had sunk to the bottom of the pool floated up into her hand. “If you go under, I’ll just bring you back to me.”

You giggled. Her magic always helped and you loved watching her use it.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But do I have to jump?”

Natasha smiled. “No, silly.”

“Come sit on the steps with me,” Wanda said, guiding you down to sit on the first step. The water lapped at your waist, and Natasha waded over to come closer to you.

“Lesson Number 1,” Natasha said, slipping into what you called her "secret spy" voice, “is learning to be friends with the water. Let’s start by splashing.”

You kicked and splashed and giggled, slowly relaxing. Natasha taught you to blow bubbles with your face partially submerged.

“That’s it, just like blowing out birthday candles.”

You watched as she showed you how to use your arms to push you forward in the water. 

“Imagine you’re scooping ice cream.”

And she showed you how to float on your back without your armbands on.

Wanda sat at the edge of the pool, watching and taking pictures with her camera, occasionally giving your floatie that you had insisted on bringing with you a nudge closer with her magic, making you giggle through your nerves.

It didn’t take you long to catch on, and now you were barely holding onto Natasha. You were only using her as a guide, scared you would bump your head on the pool wall without her.

“Okay, I’m going to let go of one hand,” she warned, “but I’ll be right here.”

You nodded, determined to this. She let go and you kept going, you kept kicking and scooping and you were finally swimming!

“You’re doing it!” Wanda cheered from the side of the pool, her camera clicking rapidly.

“Mommy, I wanna try without you holding me!”

Natasha raised a brow but nodded. “Alright then squirt. Swim from me to Mama.”

You took a deep breath, scooped, kicked and swam, doing your best to go in a straight of a line as possible. You knew you’d made it when Wanda scooped you into a tight hug.

You let out a squeal.

“Now back to me!” Natasha called, her arms outstretched for you.

You felt much more confident this time, but you kicked yourself right into Natasha’s embrace.

“Mission accomplished!” she declared, giving you a big kiss on your wet cheeks and spinning you around. “Wave pool time?”

You grinned, nodding excitedly.

——————

You waded in together just at the right time. The horn blared signalling the start of the waves.  The gentle swells of the water began to rise, rolling in lazily at first before you saw them really starting to build in size. 

Wanda had one hand resting on your back, her other subtly weaving glowing red threads of her magic into the water around you. You didn’t notice what she was doing exactly, but you could tell the water felt different where you were, it was softer. Nowhere near as exciting as further out, where you wanted to be.

But then you noticed why.

“Mama,” you pouted, craning to look up at her. “You’re making the waves small!”

Wanda sighed, caught in her act. “I was just trying to keep them from being too rough for you, sweetheart.”

“I want the big ones,” you insisted, pointing further out. “The real waves,”

You could see her hesitation. She glanced at Natasha for backup, but Natasha only smiled. “She’s got her armbands on, Wanda,” Natasha said. “She’ll be fine.”

You beamed happily, and latched yourself onto Natasha’s hip as you couldn’t quite reach the bottom of the pool anymore. You wrapped your little arms and legs around her like a baby koala as she walked the two of you out into deeper water. Wanda stayed close beside you, her brows slightly knit together with concern.

You felt the water gradually lifting around you, rising and falling like it was breathing. It almost felt like you were flying. The thrill of it made your heart pound hard in your chest 

“I wanna go deeper!” You squealed.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Wanda asked cautiously, brushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“Yes! Deeper!”

Your mama looked like she might say no, but Natasha was already racing ahead, stepping further in, her grip firm around your waist.

“She’s okay,” Natasha called back confidently. “I’ve got her.”

You were in the thick of it now, the waves were cresting higher than anywhere else in the pool, more violent too. You had your arms wrapped around Natasha’s neck, laughing. You were so far out you don’t even think she could touch the floor anymore but you didn’t care. You were having fun. You felt brave. You felt big.

But then it happened.

A massive wave rolled in. “Hold on-“ Natasha started, but it was too late.

She tried to hold you tighter, but the wave knocked into her full force, and for a terrifying moment, you felt yourself slip out of her arms.

You were under the water.

You tumbled with the wave, turning upside down, water burning your nose and throat. 

Before you could panic fully, you felt a familiar warmth grasp wrapping itself around you like a ribbon and pull you through the water, into the arms of your Mama. She clutched you tightly to her chest, holding the back of your head, her heart pounding against you. You were sputtering, coughing, trying to blink away the water from your eyes. 

Your chest felt tight and your face scrunched in confusion from what just happened. You weren’t crying…not yet.

“Oh my god, is she okay?” Natasha swam up, breathless and soaked, her hands hovering near you. “I’m so sorry, I had her- I didn’t mean to -shit.” 

Your head snapped toward her, still dazed by the wave, but you caught what she said.

“Bad word,” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

“What?” Natasha blinked in confusion.

“You said a bad word, mommy,” you repeated, the tiniest form of a grin breaking on your face.

Wanda huffed a soft laugh, before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “She’s fine,” She murmured with relief, but you could tell her voice was still tight. She looked up at Natasha with a stern frown. “No more wave pool.”

Natasha nodded immediately, the guilt written all over her face. “Agreed. I’m so sorry, lovebug.”

You didn’t answer—just wrapped your arms tightly around Wanda’s neck, pressing your cheek against her shoulder.

Wanda carried you out of the pool, not letting go for even a second. You were still a little shaky, your face pink and damp, but you stayed quiet as she wrapped a towel around you and gently patted you dry.

“Let’s get you warm,” Wanda said softly, tucking your floaties under her arm.

Natasha came back with a bottle of water and your favourite snack from the cooler bag, crouching beside your lounge chair.

“Here,” she whispered, holding it out. “Hydration mission, agent. Top priority.”

You took the bottle with both hands and drank obediently, eyes still a bit wide but your fingers curling in comfort when Wanda sat down beside you and draped another towel across your lap.

“Think we’re done with deep water for today,”Natasha said gently, brushing her knuckles against your cheek.

You nodded slowly, leaning into Wanda’s side as she wrapped her arm around you. The events of the day were beginning to catch up to you. You were warm, dry, full of snacks, and now totally tuckered out.

“Can we do lazy river again later?” you asked with a yawn, your voice small, already starting to lose your battle with sleep.

Wanda smiled and tucked your damp hair behind your ear. “Of course we can, my love.”

Natasha leaned in and kissed your temple. “But only if you promise to let me hold you extra tight.”

You gave a sleepy nod, and let your eyes flutter shut, needing to close them for just a few moments. But the sounds of the water park, the laughter, the splashing, the feeling of the sun on your skin slipped further and further away from you and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, wrapped contently in Wanda’s arms.

[certifiedsoulstealer]

THE SECOND COMING

PART 1

Warnings: emotional manipulation, references to trauma, age gap, cult behavior, smoking hot woman.

(Reader is 25 not a minor, don't be creepy.)

The drive to the wellness retreat is uncomfortably silent. I'm sitting in the passenger seat of my mom's car, the trees blur like the remnants of past memory's. It's the first time I've seen her so visibly shaken.

I don't know why I'm going to Lottie's retreat with my mom but i know enough to not ask her any questions. " This isn't a vacation, " she said before i got in the car " don't do anything and just stay beside me, please. "

As soon as I stepped out of the car someone greets us, Serene, glowing and unsettlingly calm. Lottie Matthews. Her arm's spread like she's welcoming an old friend...or new believers. But it's not my mother she's focused on, no... It's me.

Her gaze lingers. Fixated. Like she's seeing something holy. Her steps slow the short grass beneath her feet silent" you look so much like your mother. " Lottie breaths, looking at me like I'm the new coming of Jesus, ' you look like your mother ' I hate those words, i hate them with every fiber of my being, dong get me wrong I love my mother, of course i do, but being the child of Shauna Shipman didn't allow space to be my own person and having to achieve more then Shauna Shipman was hard and frustrating.

I felt a hand brushing a stray hair from my face taking me out of my train of thought, it was Lottie " it's pleased " who the fuck it's ' it ', as I'm about to ask my mom went stiff and harshly taking her hand from my face and gets in her face, " she's not a part of this Lottie, she's only here because I need to keep an eye on her. "

Seemingly uneffected from my mother's harsh demeanor Lottie smile's softly almost dream like and never breaking eye contact, " That's were you are wrong. "

Should I continue? I thought it's better to start writing the shit I imagine.

[puck-luck]

Hiya Andy!!, could i pretty please order a chai latte with for Luke Hughes !!

(I’m thinking against the glass windows of the apartment 🫣)

WONDERFUL idea!! i started writing a fic like this a while ago but it never ended up going through and you motivated me to make it a reality! and i did have to take a break part of the way too because iiii needed time to daydream about lu

1.4K, warnings: spanking, use of a paddle, dom!luke, exhibitionist-ish, punishment, sir kink, praise, backshots, fingering <3

“Put your hands on the glass and keep them there.”

Luke’s voice is strong and certain. He stands behind you, no doubt staring at the expanse of your naked back.

Your eyes are wide, looking out at the overcast weather outside of the window. The apartment is on one of the top floors of a tall building and it’s late enough that most people are getting ready for bed and closing their blinds rather than gazing out at the city lights around them. No one will see, you tell yourself. The problem is, there’s always a chance that someone will see. That’s what Luke wants.

“Now.”

You lift your palms to the glass, your fingertips making contact first. The glass is cold, freezing against your skin. You feel rooted in place the second you lay your hands flat against the window, shoulder-width apart, hinging forward at the waist just barely. Luke has ample access.

“If I see them move,” Luke warns. “Or drop even an inch, your punishment doubles. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” you confirm meekly.

There’s a crack of Luke’s palm against the sensitive globes of your ass. “Yes…?”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you correct yourself, breath already hitching from the first spank.

Your fix doesn’t earn you any praise, not yet, but you know it’s coming. Luke never gets very far without telling you how good you are, not when he sees how eagerly you take his punishment. 

“Do you know why I have you against the window?” Luke asks.

“Yes, sir,” you repeat.

“Tell me.”

“You said the next time I act up in public, you’ll punish me where everyone can see.”

“That’s right. Do you know why I’m punishing you today, Y/N?” 

Luke’s hands smooth over your asscheeks and knead the skin, distracting you. You hesitate too long before answering him, which is when Luke’s palm strikes you again and you stifle a whimper.

“You were flirting after the game,” Luke tells you. 

You weren’t, but that’s neither here nor there. You were congratulating Paul for having a good game. 

Luke raises his pitch and mocks you. “Your goal in the second was awesome, Paul,” he says. “I was so impressed.” He bats his hand against your behind. “What about me, baby? Weren’t you impressed by me?”

“I was,” you reply. “I’m always impressed by you, Lu.”

Another spank.

“Sir,” you rectify.

“What impressed you?” Luke asks. “Cotter’s goal, obviously, but what did I do? Since you’re impressed by me all the time, tell me what you liked most.”

Oh, you’re going to pay for this, but you have to spout the first thing that pops into your mind. Luke likes when you get bratty, after all. “I liked that you only fell down twice. That was impressive.”

You work hard to keep your expression clear, as if you’re being genuinely honest and not baiting Luke.

He sees through it, of course. His hand raises and comes down against your ass twice in a row, in the same spot, hard. “That smart mouth of yours,” Luke growls. “It only gets you in trouble. Remember when I said I was only going to make your ass pink, baby?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit down without feeling my handprints on your skin,” Luke tells you. 

It sounds almost like a threat, but a thrill runs through you. Wiggling in place during dinner or while watching a movie because you can’t get comfortable, and seeing the pride in Luke’s eyes when you do? Yes, please.

“What if my hands hurt too much before I’m done with you?” Luke asks. “What should we do then?”

Your heart flutters in your chest, ascending into your esophagus. You’re so turned on that you can’t even form a full sentence for Luke, just one word: “Paddle.”

Luke’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “That’s what I like to hear.” He rubs over your skin possessively, heating it up to prepare you for the rest of your punishment.

You’re a bit of a mess after the first five strikes. Luke kicks your legs further apart after the tenth, and shushes your whimpering, spitting onto each of his palms before he brings them down on your stinging skin. 

“Are you going to flirt with the boys again?” Luke asks as you near the 25th spank. 

“No, sir, I’ll only flirt with you,” you promise in a sweet voice. You weren’t flirting, but you’re getting desperate for Luke to really, really touch you. Between slaps, Luke has stripped down to his boxers and ground his cock, growing harder and harder the more you whine, against your bare pussy. You can see his v-line in the reflection of the glass, disappearing into his boxers, and it’s killing you. The glass is cloudy in front of your face from all of your panting and you can feel sweat beading along the small of your back.

“That’s my good girl,” Luke finally praises. “Can you do five more for me? Then I’ll give you a reward for being so brave, taking everything I gave you.”

You nod. “Mhm, yes, five more. Whatever you want, sir.”

“My hand kind of hurts, sweetheart,” Luke sighs with a grimace. You see him shake it out in the reflection. “Are you sure?”

“Get the paddle, Lu, please,” you beg. Your slip of the tongue will have to wait. “Punish me, make sure I’ll never do it again. I won’t move, I promise.” 

“How about this,” Luke muses. He pulls your hips back, which makes your hands slide down the window until you’re nearly at a 90º angle. “You stay right here and I will be right back.”

You freeze in place, bowing your head and closing your eyes. You’re taking deep breath after deep breath, waiting for Luke to come back. You can see people across the street in their apartment, five floors down, moving around their living room. If they looked up, they’d see you here, gasping and naked. Your legs are spread and your body is flushed and your ass is burning.

Luke taps you with the end of the paddle. It’s lightweight in Luke’s hand, but it feels heavy when Luke wields it. It packs a punch and on a couple of occasions has left you with blemishes on your behind, which Luke has soothed with lotion and massages.

“My girl,” Luke brags, pride bursting from his voicebox. “Almost done.”

“Please, Luke,” you beg again.

“Who?” Luke asks.

“Please, please, sir.” You arch your back and present to Luke, revealing yourself. Your knees buckle slightly when he drags the wood along your round cheeks and his tip, now freed from his boxers, slides along your folds. You mewl.

You lurch forward with each hard smack Luke delivers. You’re biting your bottom lip hard to keep from crying out. Tears are streaming down your face from the pain, but it doesn’t reflect how you actually feel– God, you love when Luke treats you like this, when he takes charge and renders you completely at his mercy. 

The paddle clatters to the ground on the fourth smack. You make an inquisitive sound and lift your head, looking over your shoulder at Luke. “What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows turned down in worry.

You watch Luke rear back and deliver a harsh, cutting slap right to your pussy. A strangled keen leaves your throat and your hands slide down the glass, body going limp.

Luke shoves two fingers into your cunt, right where his final spank had landed. With his other hand, he fists his cock and strips it, head positioned right over the splotchy red skin decorating your backside.

“You’re so good,” Luke grunts. “You’re perfect. I love watching you like this. You’re so willing to do whatever I ask you…”

“Always, I’ll always do what you want, sir,” you babble, rocking back against Luke’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Luke curses under his breath, his head tipping back. His Adam’s apple bobs as he moans, cum shooting from his tip and splattering across the bright pink canvas he created. He fits a third finger into your heat and drops his cock, fingers imprinting on your waist. 

The force from his thrusting fingers sends you over the edge and you tip forward until your forehead is flush with the glass, final teardrops leaking from your eyes.

“Good, so beautiful, my pretty girl,” Luke praises in one breath, leaning over you and peppering kisses along your shoulder blades. “Baby, I can’t look away from you.”

“Don’t,” you reply, voice broken.

“I won’t, baby, gonna take care of you all night, okay?” Luke helps you stand upright and turn around, cradling your face and planting a kiss on your lips. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, ‘kay, love? Let’s go, baby.”

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #14 死

† camping trip mysteries †

"You'd have never said you'd be involved in a Council of 9 meeting at any point in your life; yet here you are, suddenly thrusted into a mission with the Chief you've just hooked up with, because your life couldn't possibly get more complicated."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9k

content: female friendships, silly conversations, Vyunjin, dodgeball, AD being horrible with throws, cryptic stuff, council meetings, having to work with jeon officially, gang loyalty and bestie gossip

☠ author's note ☠

 I really milked this camping trip for all it's worth, huh? Three whole chapters of outdoor shenanigans! I regret NOTHING. Anyway, here's the conclusion of our little nature excursion! Hope you enjoyed this slightly more chill setting (apart from, y'know, chapter 12's 👉🏻👌🏻 situation) because don't worry—there's PLENTY of time for everything to go spectacularly to shit later <3

MY KIWI HEAD 🥝🤧 I genuinely love him so much and I'm as surprised as you are! Who would have thought?? I seriously had ZERO intentions for Takama when I started this—no plan, no backstory, nothing. He just showed up in my brain one day demanding rights.

Maybe I love him so much because he's the only one with more than two functioning brain cells? Like, the man is just... chill. Nice. Using his fucking brain. Being all wise and grounding while everyone else is having emotional crises left and right. THE VOICE OF REASON IN THIS CIRCUS.

Takama x Reader endgame??? Jkjk this is a Jeon Jungkook fanfic ☝️ ...which doesn't mean shit won't happen before/after 👀

ANYWAY I'll leave you to make your own assumptions about our kiwi boy. All I'm saying is that sometimes characters write themselves into your heart and there's nothing you can do about it. Is it just me as an author having unhealthy attachments to my own creations? PROBABLY! You tell me!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry about my fictional characters for the fifth time this week. It's only Tuesday. Send help.

xoxo 💋

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The morning hike with Chaewon was exactly what you needed—fresh air, quiet trails... No drama.

But of course, you can't have nice things in Kkangpae.

Not when you return to find V lounging on a log like some tragic hero while J-Hope patches up his split lip.

"What the hell happened here?"

You eye the scene, already getting a headache. The thorny scent of roses fills your lungs as V gives you what immediately recognize as a smug smile.

"Just a little disagreement." V's smile is all teeth despite his busted lip. "Jeon can get rather feisty when he wants to."

J-Hope just rolls his eyes, clearly done with V's bullshit. He hands you a sanitary napkin without looking up, too busy sorting through his medical supplies—which basically means please help me deal with this drama queen.

You crouch next to V, ignoring how his eyes track your movement like he's a cat and you're the bird he wants to catch. The napkin comes away bloody when you dab at his lip, and his body tenses slightly under your touch—barely noticeable if you weren't trained to pick up on these things.

"Careful now." His voice drops low, playful. "I might bite."

You don't miss a beat.

"You bite, you get no help." The words come out flat, unimpressed. "I'm not one of your fangirls, V."

His games might work on others, but you've seen enough of his thorny side to know better.

Those roses have teeth.

A low chuckle breaks the tension. J-Hope's back with his medical supplies, but V's still watching you—though now with something that might be respect.

Or whatever passes for respect in that thorny mind of his.

"You really had it coming this time." J-Hope clicks his tongue, cranky doctor mode fully activated as he settles back down. "Jeon isn't someone you poke for fun without expecting consequences."

"Me?" V's eyebrow shoots up, all wounded innocence. "I was just having a friendly chat. Who knew our brooding Chief still had some fight left in him?"

The act doesn't fool anyone—especially not J-Hope, who (you bet your ass) has been patching up the aftermath of V's friendly chats' for years.

"Friendly chat?" J-Hope scoffs, dabbing at V's lip with more force than strictly necessary. "You two always turn everything into a dick-measuring contest. One of these days someone's gonna end up with worse than a busted lip."

V leans toward you like he's sharing a secret, mischief written all over his features. "He's just worried he'll run out of medical supplies if we keep this up."

You expect J-Hope to snap back—he usually does when people get like this.

But he just sighs, shoulders heavy with a worry that feels too genuine for the Kkangpae's ruthless doctor.

"Or maybe I'm worried you'll end up with a split skull, dumbass."

It's weird, the way it dribbles from his lips—like actual concern.

Which is weird in a place like this, where caring too much can get you killed. But then again, J-Hope's always been different. Maybe that's why he's one of the few people V actually listens to.

Sometimes?

V's eyes meet yours, like he's either hunting for something or escaping whatever was swirling in the doctor's pupils. Though, as everything with V, it vanishes instantly behind that shark-like grin.

"Ah, Hobi, always looking out for me. What would I do without you?"

"Probably be lying in a ditch somewhere." J-Hope says it casually, but his snark feels less blunt now. 

He gives V's shoulder a quick pat—kinda saying 'you're patched up, now get out of my face.' V nods his thanks, but his attention is already sliding back to you. His gaze lingers a bit too long, assessing.

"You've got a steady hand," he drawls, and you know he's not just talking about your first aid skills.

Thorns prickle your skin.

"And you've got a death wish." You hand the bloody napkin back to J-Hope, keeping your voice flat.

Unimpressed.

V's laugh shatters in the quiet. "Oh, you're interesting. I like you."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" You arch an eyebrow at him. "Coming from someone who just got his ass handed to him by Jeon, I'm not sure how much that's worth."

His smile widens; ever so slightly. Like what you said made him feel something—bad or good, you really don't care, but it's like his vines are slowly creeping into your lungs.

You just sigh, shrug it off. It's not your problem.

You've got enough on your plate without getting caught up in whatever dick-measuring contest is going on between V and Jeon.

Your attention abruptly shifts to Takama, sitting cross-legged in the grass like some zen master on his coffee break. Despite looking perfectly relaxed with his can of coffee, you know better—the man's probably cataloguing every movement in a three-mile radius.

He's just that kind of observant. It's just how he is, what he does, that much is clear from your training sessions with him.

Persistent without being belligerent; consistent without being insistent.

It's weird seeing him in casual clothes. The navy sweater and white collar combo is a far cry from his usual tactical gear, making him look almost... normal. Like he could be anyone's slightly intimidating older brother instead of Jeon's deadly second-in-command. Even his loose jeans seem deliberately chosen for comfort rather than combat.

He doesn't move a muscle as you approach, eyes fixed on the horizon like his mind has found refuge among the spongy dunes skittering away in the sky.

Or maybe he's just really into his morning coffee.

You plop down beside him, the damp grass immediately soaking through your pants because of course it does.

"Peaceful morning, isn't it?"

You break the silence, knowing Takama won't. Man's got the conversation skills of a particularly stoic rock when he wants to.

There's something calming about his presence though.

Like he's the drizzle after the hurricane.

Plus, he probably won't try to murder anyone over breakfast. Unlike some people you could name.

"Peace is rare around here." The corner of Takama's mouth quirks up slightly. "Savor it while it lasts."

You settle into the comfortable silence, watching the horizon paint itself in morning colors. Next to Takama, even coffee breaks feel philosophical.

"You and V," he starts, offering you the can. "You get along?"

You grab it and take a sip, considering your answer. The coffee's gone lukewarm.

"Hmm."

Yeah that's your answer, because you don't really know what to reply. It's definitely not a yes, but you don't... hate him either?

"He's a wildcard, but I can handle him," is what you end up settling for.

What follows is Takama's laugh—quiet, understated like everything else about him.

"V is... unpredictable. But he's loyal to the gang, in his own way." He pauses, choosing words carefully. "Just watch your back. Testing people is how he entertains himself."

You pass the can back, watching him take another sip. The liquid works through a swallow down his throat, and his Adam's apple bobs slightly. His head tilts towards you when he notices you've gone silent.

"And Jeon? How do you find working with him?"

The question makes your skin prickle, and you know it's not because of how sudden it is—but because of something else, as well.

Images from last night force their way through your mind like a wiggling worm unwilling to let go—callouses on skin, that silver lip ring, the way he'd touched you like you might break.

You take your time answering, very aware that this is Jeon's right-hand man asking—and that your neck probably still has marks his mouth left behind.

But you're not about to tell Takama that.

"He's... intense." You focus on shredding a blade of grass, needing something to do with your hands. "But we kind of... get each other, I guess."

Takama finally looks at you, and fuck—there's way too much understanding in those gray eyes.

Because with V you have a noncommittal answer.

But you just said you get along with Jeon. Kinda.

He doesn't comment on it, and it makes sense—being Jeon's second means he probably sees more than most.

About how hard exactly it is to be in Jeon's circle. Not part of it, not even near—just hovering.

It's not easy, you know that much.

"Jeon respects strength," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Stand your ground, and you'll earn his respect."

A pause. Then he adds, hushedly:

"Maybe more."

Your pupils flicker between his, trying to parse whatever the hell he means—but nothing in there gives you a hint.

He simply smiles, getting up and helping you up too.

You both turn back to watch the camp wake up, the morning routine starting to buzz around you.

Someone's cursing about cold showers. Someone else is complaining about AD.

You take another sip of lukewarm coffee, letting the bitterness ground you. It's easier than thinking about what maybe more might mean, or why your stomach churns at the thought.

Besides, you've got enough on your plate just dealing with regular Jeon.

You don't need to add cryptic messages to that mess.

The peaceful morning doesn't last long—because this is Kkangpae you're talking about.

Moon's voice cuts through your post-gossip haze, drawing everyone to the center of the camp like a very formal shepherd. Some people look about as thrilled as you feel about being up this early.

"All right, everyone!" He's got that tone—the one that says 'this is mandatory fun and you're going to like it.' "For today's lunch, we're doing something different. Group bibimbap, but with a twist: you'll work in pairs."

A ripple of murmurs spreads through the crowd. You catch Takama's eye—he just raises an eyebrow like 'here we go again'.

"These pairings," Moon continues, all business in his long coat despite the casual setting, "are chosen to mix different divisions and personalities. It's about teamwork and learning from each other."

You barely hold back a snort. Trust Moon to turn lunch prep into a team-building exercise.

Your attention snaps back when he calls out, "Y/N, you're paired with JM. I expect great things from you two."

Well, that could've been worse. At least JM's not likely to stab you over vegetable chopping techniques.

When you reach him, he's already smiling that gentle smile that makes him look more like a kindergarten teacher than a gang's financial mastermind.

"Looks like we're a team." His voice matches his whole vibe—calm as a lake on a windless day. "Any ideas on what we should tackle?"

You're about to answer when a groan cuts through your chat with JM.

You turn to see AD looking like someone just deleted his gaming setup, while J-Hope's already got that 'done with this shit' smile plastered on his face.

"Bro, why the fuck am I always paired with your annoying ass?" AD slumps against a tree, all dramatic like the gremlin he is.

J-Hope just rolls his eyes. "Because Moon loves to torture me, that's why. Come on, let's just get this over with."

Your eyes inevitably roam around the clearing, taking in the other pairings.

Jeon and Chaewon—they acknowledge each other with matching professional nods, something like 'we respect each other but let's keep this strictly business' hovering over them.

Takama and Jessi make an oddly perfect pair, his zen energy somehow containing her wildfire spirit as they huddle together, already plotting.

V's got Yunjin trapped in what looks like his usual chaotic storytelling, though she seems to be holding her own—and then there's Eunchae and Sakura, who look like they're planning to turn lunch prep into some kind of competition.

Meanwhile, Kazuha's hanging onto Moon's every word like he's sharing the secrets of the universe instead of just bibimbap instructions.

"So." JM's gentle voice pulls you back. "Should we handle the veggies? I think we could make a great team in chopping and prepping them."

"Sounds good to me." You find yourself matching his easy smile. "Let's show them how it's done."

At least someone in this chaos circus knows how to be normal.

You follow JM to gather supplies, falling into an easy rhythm. His gentle energy is oddly reassuring, and makes even veggie prep feel zen.

Plus, he actually knows what he's doing, which is more than you can say for half the pairs around you.

Because AD's already whining about something while J-Hope ignores him completely.

Yeah; that's Kkangpae for you.

But then you catch sight of V with Yunjin and your stomach turns, why, you don't know. Poor Yunjin's holding her knife like she's never seen one before, eyes darting around nervously.

And its knives, so yeah, V swoops right in.

"Let me show you," he purrs, and fuck him for actually sounding smooth.

You see his hand sliding over hers, like he isn't the same person who had blood on his lip an hour ago.

"There's a rhythm to it, like a dance." You watch him press closer, caging Yunjin with his body while he guides the knife. "Feel the movement. It's about confidence, purpose."

"Like this?" Yunjin's voice is small, breathless.

"Exactly like that." He eases into it. "Every slice tells a story of precision and care. And you, Yunjin, have a knack for it."

You grip your own knife tighter, fighting the urge to stab those thorny vines right out of the air. He's charming, you'll give him that.

But you fear the sweet floral scent roses simply masks decaying waste underneath.

And he needs to stay the fuck away from Yunjin.

You can't help noticing how she melts under his attention, all shy smiles and batting eyelashes. Like a moth drawn to a particularly deadly flame.

"There, you're a pro now." V steps back with a wink.

"Thanks, V." Yunjin beams up at him. "I think I've got it from here."

A slight movement catches your eye—JM's knife has stopped mid-chop.

His gaze darts between V and Yunjin like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, and it's real subtle, but you catch the way his jaw tightens.

"JM," you keep your voice casual, "you seem a bit distracted. Everything okay?"

He snaps back to his vegetables, gentle smile sliding back. "Oh, it's nothing. Just... observing the dynamics. It's interesting to see how different personalities interact, don't you think?"

You nod, watching V circle Yunjin. "True. Especially with V. Makes you wonder what goes on behind that smile."

"Exactly." His smile is halfhearted at best. "Sometimes, the most cheerful faces hide the deepest stories."

The way he says it makes you wonder just how many of V's stories JM knows.

And how many of them keep him up at night.

You and JM fall into a comfortable rhythm again, just hearing AD complaining about something, Eunchae's bright laughter, the clatter of pots and pans.

Then—crash.

Your head snaps up, muscles tensing automatically. Old habits die hard in Kkangpae.

It's Chaewon.

She's standing frozen, an overturned pot at her feet, staring at one of Jessi's guys like she's seen a ghost. His hand hangs awkwardly in the air where it had brushed against hers. You can see her breathing speed up—tell-tale sign of panic she's never shown before.

JM's knife stills mid-chop. Before you can blink, he's already moving toward her.

Jessi's there too, quickly motioning for the guy to back off—and he does, looking confused and apologetic, but you notice how Chaewon's shoulders drop slightly once he's out of reach.

JM murmurs something to her, too low for you to hear (though you bet that gentle voice of his could probably talk down a rabid bear). Chaewon gives a tiny nod, but her knuckles are still white where she's gripping her sleeve.

When Jessi touches her shoulder, you catch that silent conversation between the three of them.

The kind that comes from knowing someone's demons intimately.

"Alright, everyone, back to work." Jessi shouts. "Nothing to see here. Let's keep the focus on the task at hand."

Everyone turns back to their tasks, but you don't miss how JM stays close to Chaewon, or how Jessi's eyes keep scanning the crowd like she's daring anyone to make this worse.

JM hovers near her for another minute before coming back to your chopping station, and when he does, he picks up his knife and starts slicing carrots like nothing's happened at all.

"Guess we all have our off days, huh?" You keep your voice light, casual. No pressure.

JM's knife stills for a moment. He doesn't look up.

"Everyone has ghosts they're running from." The words come out soft. "Some just hide them better than others."

You let the silence settle. There's an unspoken rule in the gang—you don't go digging in other people's graveyards unless they hand you the shovel first.

"I'm gonna wash up," you mutter, already heading for the makeshift sink, feeling like he needs some silence before being back to normal.

Behind you, JM's knife resumes its path against the cutting board.

You're shaking water off your hands when footsteps approach from behind. Months in Kkangpae have taught you to be alert even for something as mundane as washing up after veggie prep.

"So you do know how to clean up."

The low drawl sends heat crawling up your spine. You know that voice—and the smirk that goes with it—without having to turn around.

"Turns out, I'm full of surprises." You flick excess water in Jeon's direction, catching his dangerous half-smile when you glance over your shoulder.

His chuckle hits you right in the gut, deep and rich and —fuck—suddenly all you can think about is last night.

His hands, his mouth, the way he'd made you shatter.

"Surprising indeed." There's that smug tone again. "Especially since I recall someone being too fucked out to help with cleanup duty."

"Well," you drop your voice low, just for him, "if you hadn't made such a goddamn mess, there'd have been less to clean up."

Your body remembers how close you'd been—how you'd ground against each other like teenagers, desperate and needy.

How his cock had felt pressed against you, so close but not close enough because someone didn't bring protection.

The frustration from last night still burns under your skin, reminder of what could have been.

If he'd just been prepared...

Jeon steps closer, and—fuck—even after last night, his presence still makes your skin prickle.

"A mess, you say? The way I remember it, you were just as responsible for the chaos."

"Chaos?" You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as heat crawls up your neck. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon. It was... mild disarray at best."

His grin widens, and you hate how your eyes keep tracking that stupid lip piercing.

"Mild disarray? You were panting like you'd run through every back alley in Seoul."

You scoff, trying not to remember how he'd made you shake, how his hands had felt mapping every inch of you.

"Breathless, maybe. But let's not blow it out of proportion."

"Hah." His eyes narrow. "You've got a sharp tongue. But we both know—"

A shout from across the camp makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his for a split second before you step apart, smooth as shadows. Professional. Like you weren't just thinking about climbing him like a tree.

Again.

You turn away, finally letting out that breath you'd been holding.

The banter gets you hot under the collar but fuck if you don't want more. Not that you'll admit that.

Even if part of you is already plotting round two.

This time with actual protection. Because seriously.

"Anyway," his voice cuts through your thoughts, "we should get back to work. Long day ahead."

"Right." You nod, and then go right back to prepping veggies.

Yeah. This is going to be a very long day indeed.

The smell of bibimbap hits different after spending all morning chopping vegetables next to JM's weirdly zen energy.

And yup—everyone's gathering around the portable tables, looking stupidly proud of their contributions like they didn't just spend half the morning complaining about Moon's team-building exercise.

You grab a spot next to Yunjin, who's already halfway through telling you about her latest drama obsession; eyes practically sparkling as she waves her chopsticks around.

"No but listen—the main lead thinks his brother died in that fire, right?" She leans in close, pink hair falling in her face. "But then in episode sixteen we find out he's actually been alive this whole time! Living in China!"

You nearly choke on your rice. "That's the most unrealistic plot twist I've ever—"

"Mind if I join?" Takama's calm voice slices through Yunjin's enthusiastic plot summary; slight smile that makes him look more like a monk than Jeon's deadly second-in-command.

"Pull up a chair." You scoot over to make room. "Yunjin's educating me on the finer points of melodrama."

"Ah." His eyes crinkle as he settles in. "The ones where everyone's secretly related and nobody stays dead?"

"Exactly!" Yunjin beams. "Like this one where the brooding CEO's got a secret relationship—"

"Should've fought harder for the meat distribution," you murmur, poking at your mostly vegetable bibimbap.

Before you can finish sighing about your protein deficiency, Takama's chopsticks appear in your line of sight, depositing a generous portion of beef onto your plate.

"Here. I prefer vegetables anyway."

"Liar." But you're already mixing the meat into your rice, trying not to look too pleased. "Thanks."

Yunjin pouts at that, surely expecting some meat too (even when her plate shows basically 0 vegetables anyway). You kick her under the table, and she almost bounces with a chuckle.

"So, V's actually a really good teacher," she says dreamily, pushing her rice around. "Did you know he used to work in a restaurant?"

You cough.

V's "restaurant" experience probably involved more knife-work than cooking.

"Is that so?" Takama asks, slightly puzzled.

"Mhm!" She sighs, all starry-eyed. "And he's so patient. The way he showed me how to hold the knife—"

"Speaking of knives," Takama cuts in smoothly, "your technique has improved, Y/N. Been practicing?"

You're grateful for the subject change. Watching Yunjin moon over V is like watching a butterfly land on a Venus flytrap.

"Yeah, well. Can't let the Seduction Division down, right?"

His smile is small but genuine. "Right."

Movement then catches your eye—Chaewon's heading your way, black bob bouncing with each step. She smiles when she spots you, but you don't miss how she falters slightly when she notices Takama. Her eyes dart between him and the empty space beside you, calculating.

For a second, you think she might turn around.

But then she simply strides over like she owns the place, sliding into the spot next to you.

You don't miss how she angles her body away from Takama, though.

"What's got everyone looking so serious?" She bumps your shoulder playfully. "Don't tell me Yunjin's got you all hooked on her dramas too."

"Not all of us can be as cultured as Yunjin." You grin as Yunjin pretends to be offended. "We were just discussing the finer points of V's... cooking techniques."

That makes Yunjin blush, but Chaewon's eyes sharpen. You catch that protective glint—the same one she gets whenever any of the male members get too close to her division.

"Oh?" Her voice is light, but there's steel underneath. "And how did you find our resident psychopath's teaching methods?"

"Come on, he was really patient!" Yunjin pipes up. "And his hands were so—"

"Speaking of hands," Chaewon interjects quickly, "I heard there was quite the incident at morning coffee. Something about Jeon's right hook meeting V's face?"

Trust Chaewon to steer the conversation away from V's charms while gathering intel in the same breath. Sometimes you forget she's your Chief for a reason.

Heels on grass make your eyes stutter behind Chaewon's silhouette.

It's Jessi; obviously—who claims the spot next to Takama, all long red hair and confident energy.

She's probably the only person who can make eating bibimbap look like a power move.

"Well, well." She waves her chopsticks at your little group. "What's this about dramas? Please tell me someone's finally calling out how unrealistic those chaebol storylines are."

"We were discussing layers," you explain, watching her pile kimchi onto her rice with the same precision she probably uses to plan weapons shipments. "You know, how people aren't always what they seem."

"Like how our fearless Chief here—" she angles her head towards Chaewon, "—pretends to be all business, but I caught her crying over cat videos last week?"

"That was one time." Chaewon tries to glare but can't quite hide her smile. "And you promised not to tell."

"Please." Jessi snorts. "Everyone knows you're a softie under all that badassery. Remember when you threatened to shoot that guy who made Eunchae cry?"

"He deserved it." Chaewon's voice goes flat, protective instincts flashing. "Nobody messes with my girls."

"And that's exactly what we mean," Yunjin pipes up, somehow making even this observation sound sweet. "Everyone's got different sides. Like how Jessi acts tough but always saves the last strawberry milk for AD."

"Oi—" Jessi points her chopsticks at Yunjin threateningly, but there's no malice in it. "Just for that, you're testing all the new rifles when we get back to the castle. Someone needs to make sure they don't jam."

Something about the easiness of the conversation makes something unfurl in your chest.

It's weird seeing these deadly women just... being friends. Sharing lunch and inside jokes like they aren't some of the most dangerous people in Seoul.

But then again, maybe that's exactly what Yunjin meant about layers.

"Sooo," Jessi prompts, "who wants to share their deep dark secrets? Come on, don't be shy."

"Real subtle, Joo." Chaewon rolls her eyes, but you catch that tiny smile she always gets around Jessi. "What's next, trust falls?"

"I'd let you fall." Jessi winks, making Chaewon snort into her rice.

Takama, who's been quiet this whole time, surprises everyone by speaking up. "Sometimes the secrets we keep aren't about trust. Sometimes they're about protection."

"Like how we all pretend AD doesn't secretly feed the stray cats behind the castle?" Yunjin singsongs then.

That breaks the tension, sending ripples of laughter around the group.

Even Takama cracks a smile.

"Or how Jessi acts tough but cried during that dog commercial last week?" Chaewon dodges the grape Jessi throws at her head.

"That dog was reunited with its family," Jessi hisses, but she's fighting back a grin. "Forgive me for having a heart."

"Yeah, buried somewhere under those nine inch heels."

You smile at that, and you note how the sun is high over head now, warming skin through the trees.

You should probably get back to work—those intel reports won't file themselves. But for now, you let yourself enjoy this moment of peace.

Even gang members need lunch breaks sometimes.

Dodgeball is usually fun. Keyword: usually—because when it's among deadly people... competitiveness is too light of a word.

You're in the middle of debating some strategy with Yunjin when Jeon's presence immediately freezes the whole camp. One second you're planning how to take down AD's team (he might be a tech genius but his aim is shit), and the next—

"Meeting. Council of 9, now."

Jeon's voice is calm, as usual. But it's precise, blunt in a way that makes your hackles rise. His face gives nothing away—typical—but something in his posture screams urgent.

The Council members share quick looks before following him into the trees. Moon's already at his side, glasses catching the sunlight. Chaewon squeezes your shoulder as she passes, and Jessi winks at Yunjin, but neither stops to explain.

Just like that, your cozy little camping trip turns into a war room—playful energy from moments ago gone, leaving behind the familiar sensation that comes with being in a criminal organization.

"Damn." Yunjin drops onto the bench beside you, pink hair falling in her face. "Even on a camping trip, we can't escape the threats."

Your little lunch group now feels weirdly empty without Jessi's loud energy and Chaewon's dry comments. You catch yourself staring at the path where they disappeared, like maybe if you look hard enough you'll develop x-ray vision.

So much for that epic dodgeball tournament you'd planned. Although honestly? Getting hit with rubber balls suddenly seems like the least of your problems.

"It's just how things work around here." Takama shrugs, wiping sweat from his shaved head.

Of course the dodgeball game's been put on hold, everyone too distracted by the Council's sudden disappearance to focus.

"Hey, Takemichi!" Eunchae bounces over, still flushed from running around. "Any idea what's going on? You're like, Jeon's right hand and all."

Takama's eye twitches at the nickname, but he doesn't comment on it. "No clue. But Jeon doesn't call meetings without good reason. Especially not during planned activities."

Your eyes drift to where the Council members vanished into the trees. It's odd seeing Jeon actually interact with people—the man's about as social as a brick wall. Even J-Hope, who he supposedly tolerates, barely gets more than grunts out of him most days. That whole don't-fuck-with-me hurricane aura of his keeps everyone at a safe distance.

And yet.

You'd fucked him.

Well, kinda.

Heat crawls up your neck as you mentally reminisce about last night.

Pride mingles with something else as you remember that untouchable Chief's face when he came all over your belly.

Focus, dumbass. Now isn't the time to replay your greatest hits. If Jeon's gathering the Council in the middle of fucking dodgeball, something's definitely wrong.

"Do you think it's..." Yunjin chews her lip, lowering her voice. "MDF?"

The mention of Myung-dong Faction makes everyone's faces go pale.

"Hard to say." Takama's voice drops to barely above a whisper. "But we did just wreck their trafficking ring. Hanjun's gone now. They're not known for letting that kind of thing slide."

You share a look with Yunjin and Eunchae. You remember Hanjun from your last mission—the way he'd crumpled when Kkangpae was done with him.

The way his whole operation had fallen apart like a house of cards.

Sakura's usually bright face is serious as she crouches next to you. "If it's MDF, we're fucked."

"They've been too quiet." Kazuha runs a hand through her wine-colored hair, eyes scanning the treeline like she expects assassins to materialize. "That's not their style. Not after what we did to their golden boy."

And she's right, isn't she? MDF isn't known for their forgive-and-forget attitude. Their silence these past weeks has been... unsettling. Like holding your breath underwater, knowing you'll have to surface eventually.

"Whatever it is, we need to be ready." Eunchae sighs. "Can't let our guard down. Not even here."

"We need to be united now more than ever." Takama's voice rumbles low as he scans the treeline."Division only makes us vulnerable, they might aim for that."

And he's right; because Kkangpae's strength isn't just in its firepower—it's in moments like this, when everyone's got each other's backs.

"Whatever the Council needs," you say, meaning it. "We've got their six."

The group falls quiet, the forgotten dodgeball lying between you like some sad metaphor for your interrupted normalcy. Somewhere in the distance, a bird calls. You almost miss it under the sound of your heart pounding.

A rustle in the bushes makes you lean back.

Though it's just J-Hope, looking way too serious for someone who was laughing at AD's failed dodgeball throws ten minutes ago.

"They need you." His eyes find yours, steady and unreadable. "Jeon asked for you specifically."

You share a quick look with Takama, and he's wearing the same exact puzzled expression as you.

"Me? Why would he—"

J-Hope just shakes his head. Great. Because being summoned by the dude you almost fucked last night during a secret Council meeting isn't complicated enough.

But you don't really have much choice, so you trail behind J-Hope like a kid being called to the principal's office, mind racing faster than your heart.

What the actual fuck could Jeon want? And why during the middle of dodgeball, of all things?

The Council's little forest hideaway comes into view, and suddenly you've got nine pairs of eyes drilling into you.

Great. Just great. Nothing like being stared at by the most dangerous people in Seoul while you're in workout clothes and probably still red-faced from almost getting beaned by AD's wild throws.

Jeon stands like a statue among them, and he speaks immediately upon seeing you.

"We have a situation that needs your input."

No greeting, no explanation, just straight to the point. Pure Jeon. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so aware of every Council member watching you.

"Remember your first mission?" Chaewon continues. "The women we rescued? You were the only one who actually saw them in that room."

Of course you remember—hard not to, even if you wish you wouldn't.

That cramped, dark room with its rusty bars and stale air. Women huddled in corners like broken birds, some too afraid to even look up when you'd entered.

Your first real taste of what the Seduction Division actually does.

Not the glamorous spy shit you'd imagined, but the ugly, necessary work of saving people from monsters.

"Remember what any of the women looked like?" Chaewon presses.

You try to remember, but the thing that comes first is the smell of fear and desperation—thick enough to choke on.

Then it's their faces. Burned into your brain. And then... hers.

"There was one girl," you start carefully, watching the Council's reactions. "Couldn't have been more than eighteen. Skinny thing, but her eyes..."

You pause, searching for the right words.

"Even in that shithole, she was... I don't know. Like she was just waiting for a chance to burn the whole place down."

You catch the tiny shift in Jessi's jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her weapon.

The air feels like a forest fire waiting to happen.

"Dark reddish-brown hair," you continue, the details getting clearer as you speak. "Matted to hell, but you could tell it was beautiful once. And the way she held herself..."

"That's enough." Jeon interrupts you. "Your recollection could prove useful. We believe that girl is connected to one of our own. This isn't some random MDF hit."

Your stomach drops. Because shit—that... That changes everything.

MDF might be brutal, but they're not stupid.

Kidnapping someone connected to Kkangpae? That's not just an attack—it's a message.

A very personal message.

You watch the Council's faces, trying to read between the lines.

If MDF knows enough to target someone specific, how much else do they know? How deep have they dug into everyone's past?

The thought makes your skin crawl.

"Now we know this is personal." Chaewon's voice is ice-cold, all business. "The question is, how do we respond?"

"We hit back." Jessi's voice cracks like a whip, raw and broken. "Show those fuckers what happens when you mess with Kkangpae."

J-Hope reaches for her shoulder, ever the voice of reason. "I know you want blood, Jessi. But an all-out war will only get innocent people killed."

Jessi jerks away from his touch, but you see how her hands shake. 

"I should've been there," she whispers, more to herself than anyone else. "I should never have left them alone."

The pain in her voice makes your chest tight; you've never seen Jessi like this—like she's barely holding herself together.

"Why don't we just storm their headquarters and slaughter them all?" V (who's been conspicuously quiet until now) raises his voice.

The guy is just leaning back against a tree, playing with a butterfly knife like he thinks he's the Joker or something.

"Picture it." His smile grows wider, more unhinged. "Their precious hideout painted red, bodies everywhere. We could string up their leaders—or what's left of them—as a warning."

JM gives him one look—one that somehow manages to pierce through V's psychotic haze. Like he's the only person besides RM who can actually rein him in when he gets like this.

V slumps back with an exaggerated pout, thorny aura receding slightly. The switch from bloodthirsty to playful is so fast it gives you whiplash.

"As entertaining as that sounds," JM's voice is steady, like a calm lake washing away V's chaos, "we need precision here. Not a bloodbath."

"You never let me have fun." V whines like a kid denied candy instead of mass murder. "But fine, we'll be civilized."

JM turns back to the Council. "Please continue. V's just... working through some things. He understands the need for balance."

Jeon's face gives nothing away, but you notice how his jaw tightens. Having to share space with V is bad enough—having to listen to his murder fantasies is clearly testing what little patience he has left.

"As I was saying..." Jeon continues.

JM gives V another one of those looks and V slumps against the tree.

The thorny scent of roses fades to something more bearable, though you can tell he's just waiting for another chance to suggest mass murder.

"I might have a better idea." AD clears his throat. "A bloodbath would be satisfying, sure, but we need intel first. Something clean and quiet that gives us some advantage."

You watch him run a hand through his messy blonde hair, thinking three steps ahead while looking like he just rolled out of bed.

"We know where their hideout is. Send in a small team, two people max. Get their data, their plans, their weak spots." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Information is better than bullets right now."

The Council members exchange looks. Even V stops fidgeting with his knife. You catch Jeon's shoulders relaxing slightly—he knows a good plan when he hears one.

"Stealth does play to our strengths," Jeon admits, and his eyes flick to you for a split second. "Who did you have in mind?"

AD jerks his chin toward you.

"She's perfect for this. Hanjun's well acquainted with Flower now, but Y/N? She was only there for the takedown. He never had time to report back about her or the other girls. But between all of them," he adds, "she's the only one who got to see all the girls."

Suddenly you've got nine of Seoul's most dangerous criminals staring at you. But you meet Jeon's gaze head-on, refusing to flinch.

Finally—a chance to prove yourself.

And maybe get some answers about what's really going on with MDF.

"She's just an ensign." JM mumbles. "She's gonna need backup."

The Chiefs exchange looks, probably running through a mental list of who they could trust not to fuck this up. Your heart's still pounding from being called in, from learning about this mission that could change everything.

"Jeon will lead this operation." RM's voice leaves no room for argument. Like he's announcing the weather, except the weather is your hookup being assigned as your partner.

Amazing, really love that for you.

"You're picking him for stealth?" V's voice goes high with indignation, like someone just insulted his knife collection. "I'm literally the Chief of Stealth Assassinations. What the actual fuck?"

Thorns prickle the air, sharp with offense. You definitely catch Jeon's tiny smirk—he's enjoying V's tantrum way too much.

"Jeon has the discipline this requires." RM's tone could freeze hell itself. "We can't afford your... creative interpretations of orders right now."

V opens his mouth—probably to suggest murdering everyone involved, knowing him—but JM slaps a hand over it. The look V gives him could kill a lesser man, but JM just raises an eyebrow.

"This mission's success is crucial." RM continues like V isn't plotting JM's death with his eyes. "We need strategy, not chaos."

You watch Jeon's face carefully. His expression gives nothing away, but you just know he's thinking the same thing you are:

How the fuck are you two supposed to focus on a stealth mission when you can barely keep your hands off each other?

"Come on," V's voice drags after getting rid of JM's hand, "we all remember how well these two work together. Like gasoline and a lit match. Either they'll kill each other or fuck like rabbits. Not ideal for a stealth op, eh?"

JM smacks his shoulder, but V just grins wider. Your face burns as Jeon goes rigid beside you, like a gathering strength.

If looks could kill, V would be six feet under from the glare Jeon's sending him.

You stare very intently at a patch of grass, fighting the urge to squirm, because V has no idea how close to home that "fucking like rabbits" comment hits.

Or maybe he does—you can never tell what that psycho actually knows.

"Enough." JM sighs. "RM's guidance is sound. Jeon, you're our best strategic mind. Tactical is probably our best approach right now."

Jeon's jaw works for a moment before he gives a sharp nod. "Understood. I'll lead the operation."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Stuck on a stealth mission with the guy you've secretly hooked up with, while his psychotic sworn enemy watches and makes sex jokes.

Just another day in Kkangpae.

"For now," RM's redirects the conversation swiftly, "let's focus on the task at hand. This camping trip was meant to build unity and trust. We can't lose sight of that."

Unity and trust.

Right.

Because nothing says team bonding like sending you and the guy you're dying to have sex with to infiltrate enemy territory while pretending you've never seen each other naked.

"There will be time later to prepare for the mission." He adds. "But while we're here, I expect everyone's full commitment to this team-building exercise."

Jeon surprises you by actually looking... chastened? as he gives RM a short nod. "You're right. My priorities were misplaced. I apologize for the disruption."

And that's... New. You've never heard Jeon apologize for anything.

But then again, RM's probably the only person in Seoul who could make him bow down. The amount of respect Jeon has for him is almost an entity of its own.

"No need to apologize." RM's stern expression softens slightly. "Let's refocus together on strengthening our bonds as a crew."

More team bonding. Because that's exactly what you need right now... bonding,̶ ̶o̶r̶ b̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶?̶

You give Jeon one last look before V's voice cuts through, all manic energy as usual.

"Last one back has to clean everyone's dishes!"

And then he just... takes off running like the psychopath he is, thorns receding with him. Because of course he'd turn this into a competition.

"Oh, fuck no!" Jessi kicks off her heels, already sprinting after him in bare feet. "I am not cleaning after his ass."

Chaewon and JM share this look—probably something like 'we're both too dignified for this shit' passing between them before they're running too, probably realizing nobody wants to risk V winning anything.

"How childish." J-Hope rolls his eyes, but AD's already got that gleam he gets when someone issues a challenge.

"Childish?" AD's grin is pure evil. "I bet I could eat enough for ten people. Give you something real nice to clean."

"You little shit—" J-Hope takes off after him. "Get back here!"

You glance back at Jeon and RM, both still walking like they're above such peasant activities.

But fuck it—you're already sweaty from dodgeball, might as well commit to the chaos.

"Think I'll take AD's strategy." You flash Jeon your sweetest smile. "Eat everything in sight, let someone else deal with cleanup."

You're running before he can reply, laughter bubbling up.

And then, merely a few second later, you hear his steady footsteps turn into something faster.

Looks like even the mighty Chief can't resist a challenge.

The campsite comes into view through the trees, and you pick up your pace.

You jog into the clearing, lungs burning, only to find V and RM already there.

What the actualfuck?

"How did RM beat us?" The words come out between gasps.

The man runs a criminal empire in designer suits, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be able to outrun anyone.

V just grins that Cheshire cat smile of his and then, Jessi, Chaewon and JM stumble in next, all tangled together and cackling like teenagers.

"JM's face when I almost tripped him—" Jessi wheezes, red hair wild from running.

Everyone else filters in gradually, catching their breath and comparing notes on who cheated (definitely V).

But oddly enough, there's no sign (or sound) of J-Hope or AD.

Then—

"You absolute fucking cockwomble, let go before I rearrange your face!"

"Not happening, you lil' bitch. I'm not cleaning your blood off the floor again!"

You turn to find J-Hope and AD crashing through the underbrush like drunk bears, locked in what has to be the world's most undignified wrestling match. AD's blonde hair is full of leaves, and J-Hope's pristine turtleneck is covered in dirt.

Seoul's most dangerous gang, ladies and gentlemen.

Truly terrifying.

"You wanna fucking go, asshole?" AD thrashes like a feral cat, trying to land a hit on J-Hope. "I'll rip out your spine and use it as a fucking ethernet cable!"

But J-Hope's got him locked down, using his height advantage like the bastard he is. AD might be scrappy, but the doctor's got experience wrestling patients into submission.

"You need to get out of this unscathed first, you dumbass—"

"Then I'll download your consciousness into a punching bag," AD snarls, still fighting. "Have you getting hit for eternity, you piece of shit!"

Their little death match stumbles closer to camp. J-Hope's got AD in a headlock now, ignoring the increasingly creative threats being spewed at his face.

"I'll be patching you up after this, you psychotic gremlin." J-Hope finally slams AD into the dirt, probably enjoying this way too much. "Maybe I'll sew a live rat in your stomach. Let it chew its way out through your organs."

They keep wrestling, but it's getting pathetic—like watching two drunk uncles fight at a family barbecue. Both of them are red-faced and panting, shirts half-ripped from trying to hold each other back.

You can't help noticing they look wrecked—covered in sweat and leaves.

Actually...

"They must've been holding each other back the whole way here." You snort.

No wonder they're last. These idiots literally spent the entire race trying to murder each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" V's voice rings out like a demented game show host. "Our esteemed winners, graceful as ever!"

J-Hope and AD freeze mid-choke hold, finally noticing their audience.

The look of pure horror on their faces is priceless.

"Dish duty it is, boys!" Jessi's grin is absolutely feral.

AD shoves J-Hope off like an angry cat, but they're both too winded from their pathetic wrestling match to do more than hurl insults at each other.

"This is all your fucking fault!" AD jabs a finger at J-Hope's chest, looking about as threatening as a wet Pomeranian. "If you hadn't grabbed me—"

"My fault?" J-Hope's voice gets higher. "Big words from someone shaped like a fun-sized candy bar!"

"Say that again, you overgrown fucking giraffe!" AD tries to lunge but stumbles, still panting. "I fucking dare you!"

RM steps in before they can start round two of the world's most embarrassing fight.

"That's enough, you two. We all enjoyed the show, but it's time to work."

They both shut up immediately—even AD knows better than to test RM's patience. But the glares they shoot each other could probably melt steel.

"Can't believe I'm stuck with your ass for cleanup duty," AD grumbles, brushing leaves out of his blonde hair.

"Trust me, I'd rather perform surgery blindfolded. But maybe next time you'll think twice before dragging me down with you."

"As if I need help being slow from someone who runs like a drunk giraffe."

Their bickering fades as they head back to camp, still shoving each other like kindergarteners fighting over the last juice box.

Well. At least you'll enjoy a show during dinner time tonight.

One would think dinner time would be dulled down now, after the Council meeting earlier.

But nope—gang members are scattered around the fires like this is some post apocalypse scavenging situation.

You can't help watching V with Yunjin. He's leaning in close and probably whispering some bullshit about knives being romantic or whatever gets him going.

And Yunjin—sweet, perceptive Yunjin who usually sees right through everyone's bullshit—is eating it up. She's doing that thing where she plays with her hair, pink strands twisting around her finger while she giggles at whatever murder joke V's telling.

You snort into your food, because you just don't get what's it with these two.

The weirdest part? Even knowing what V's capable of (the rumors about his "artistic approach" to killing make your skin crawl), you kind of get why people fall for his act.

He's got that whole dangerous charm thing down to an art.

"Hey stranger!" Eunchae drops onto the bench beside you, nearly knocking over your drink. Sakura slides in more gracefully across from you, because someone in your division has to have coordination.

"What was the super secret meeting about? You went in looking normal and came out all..." Eunchae waves her chopsticks vaguely. "You know. Intense."

"Classified." You shrug, trying not to think about what that meeting means for you and a certain hurricane-aura'd Chief. "Above your pay grade."

"Ugh, you're no fun." She slumps dramatically against your shoulder. "I wish I could join the Council just to know all the juicy stuff."

"We're here if you need to talk," Sakura adds quietly, and fuck—sometimes you forget how perceptive your division can be.

"Thanks." You bump Eunchae's shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest. These idiots might be professional honey traps, but they're your idiots. "I mean it."

You go back to your food, half-listening to Eunchae's story about some mark who thought cryptocurrency was foreplay. But your eyes keep drifting to V and Yunjin.

What's your friendly neighborhood psychopath plotting this time?

However, the first drops of rain quickly hit your food like tiny bullets. Within seconds, the drizzle turns into a full-blown downpour because of courseit does.

Nothing like a surprise shower to end your deeply suspicious dinner observations.

"Oh, come on." Eunchae snatches up her plate, already running for cover, chestnut hair plastered to her face by the time she makes it three steps.

Your eyes snap to where V still has Yunjin trapped in conversation. They're both getting soaked but Yunjin's still hanging on his every word, pink hair turning darker in the rain.

"Yunjin!" You pitch your voice to carry over the rain. "Unless you want to catch pneumonia, might want to wrap it up!"

She blinks like she's coming out of a trance, finally noticing she's halfway to drowned. The spell breaks—thank fuck—and she hurries over to you, gathering her stuff with slightly shaky hands.

"Thanks for the save." Her voice is quiet, almost sheepish. "Got a bit... distracted."

"Yeah, no shit." You grab her arm, steering her toward your tent. "Let's get inside before we both melt."

You dodge through the chaos of gang members running for shelter, curses mixing with laughter. Someone—probably AD—slips in a mud puddle and lets out a string of creative profanity that would make a sailor blush.

The relative safety of your tent feels like crossing a finish line. The rain hammers against the canvas, but at least you're dry.

Well. Drier.

The rain doesn't let up for hours, turning the campsite into something out of a moody indie film. But inside your tent? It's like a sleepover bubble—wrapped up in cozy blankets and the glow from Yunjin's phone where some poor actor is having his third dramatic breakdown of the episode.

Yunjin's using your stomach as a pillow, pink hair splayed across your hoodie while she decimates the bag of chips between you. Every few minutes her hand dives in without looking, too focused on whatever absurd plot twist is happening now.

"This one's actually decent," she murmurs, smiling at the screen where someone's probably discovering their evil twin or something.

"If you say so." You can't help grinning as the male lead clutches his chest like he's having a heart attack over a text message. "These writers must be on something wild. Like, who comes up with this shit?"

Her giggle vibrates against your stomach.

"That's why they're fun! You never know what's coming next." She tilts her head back to look at you. "Kind of like living here, right? Never a dull moment in Kkangpae."

"God, don't jinx it." But you're laughing too because she's not wrong. Your life has definitely taken some drama-worthy turns lately. "Though I hope we're at least more realistic than that."

You both fall into easy conversation, trading comments about the show and today's chaos. When the male lead starts laying it on thick with the female lead, you see your chance. Time to figure out what the hell V was playing at earlier with all that knife teaching.

"So." You poke Yunjin's side with your toe, aiming for casual. "What's with you and V today? The whole knife lesson thing seemed... weird."

Yunjin doesn't look away from her drama. Of course she doesn't.

"I mean, have you seen him?" She sighs dreamily. "He's like a walking thirst trap. Those hands..."

"Oh my god." You stare down at her pink head in disbelief. "You'd actually fuck him? Like, actually actually?"

She finally tears her eyes from the screen, twisting to grin up at you with zero shame. "Why not? Life's too short not to ride at least one psychopath, right?"

The silence stretches.

"What?" She raises an eyebrow at your horror. "You wouldn't?"

"Jesus fuck no." You mime gagging. "You know he probably has some weird murder kink. Like, he'd probably want to chase you through a haunted house with a knife while dramatic music plays."

"Haunt play?" Her eyes go wide  before she breaks into giggles. "That's... weirdly specific. But don't knock it till you try it, right?"

"Yun." You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. "He'd probably set up a whole haunted house just to get his rocks off."

"Okay but..." Yunjin props herself up on her elbows. "Haunted house but make it sexy? That's kind of genius."

"You're actually insane." You shove her shoulder, both of you dissolving into laughter. "I swear to god, if I ever hear spooky music from his tent—"

"You'll what, call the ghost police?"

Her laughter shakes your whole body, bright and infectious, and the small space of the tent makes this ridiculous conversation feel somehow safer, more intimate.

Just two girls discussing their terrible taste in men while hiding from a storm.

Even if one of those men happens to be Seoul's most notorious psychopath.

Yunjin flops back down, using your stomach as a pillow again. The drama's still playing on her phone, but you're too busy thinking about V's games to focus on whatever chaebol drama is unfolding now.

"For now," she sighs dreamily, "I'll stick to living through these ridiculous romances. Much safer than the real thing, right?"

You hum in agreement, watching raindrops race down the tent's surface.

"Sounds smart. But if you do decide to test out V's haunted house kink..." You poke her side. "I want every single detail. For science."

"Deal." Her giggle vibrates against your stomach. "But only if you keep saving me from his 'passionate teaching moments'. My knife skills are fine, thanks."

"Always."

The word comes out softer than intended, but you mean it. In Kkangpae, real friendship is rare as fuck. People either want to kill you, fuck you, or use you—sometimes all three.

But Yunjin? She's different.

And all the while; the rain keeps drumming steadily against the canvas, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green.

In here, none of that exists.

Not V's thorny games, not Jeon's hurricane, not the Council's secret meetings.

Just you and your best friend, safe and warm while the storm rages on.

For now, anyway. Tomorrow's another story.

goal: 400 notes

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @vialattea00 @kuusstuff @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[weneeya]

falling for you m.list | rules

pairing. one piece x reader

characters. zoro, law, sanji, ace

note. i haven't write with those boys since so long but i'm so back in one piece so be ready to see them! please request with anyone from one piece <3

Zoro

you might be the only one not aware of what is going on between him and you 

he doesn’t care much though, it’s fine by him to stay like this 

he’s always keeping an eye on you during a fight, just to be sure

he knows you can defend yourself well, but he can’t help it 

he lets you steal his food without arguing much, which is weird because he tries to kill Luffy each time he tries 

the crew teases him about it but he brushes them off everytime 

he’s a big shy boy, but he just doesn’t care if anyone knows about his feelings for you

he has a huge soft spot for you and he doesn’t even tries to hide it 

there’s no real realization because he knows why he’s doing this 

he would die for anyone in the crew, but he would definitely burn the world down if you asked him to

Law

realization hits HARD 

he’s not the type to show a lot of emotion, at least he wasn’t until he began to travel with the strawhats

and you? you get him stressed 

he didn’t realize it until robin pointed it to him 

maybe she wasn’t wrong, but no way he would admit it like this 

yes he lets you stay around him a lot, even allowing you to touch him without complaining too much 

and yes you’re always stealing his coat when you’re cold and he doesn’t bother him

but falling for you? no way

he can’t be falling for someone, especially not you 

yet, he can’t take the idea out of his mind since robin’s words 

he notices the way you scrunch your nose when you smile 

or how your face lights up at the idea of visiting a new island 

you’re adorable, and his heart can’t take it 

damn, maybe he’s down bad finally

Sanji

he loves women so much so his behavior isn’t questioned a lot at first 

he’s a simp, it’s not weird that he’s treating you better than anyone else 

until he began to prioritize you over everyone else

even the other girls 

makes your favorite dessert all the time

even asks you what you want to eat and does his best to make it with what he have

nami is the first one to talk about it, and he feels his heart stop at the thought 

is he really in love? like, real love

he’s a romantic guy, that’s it, he can’t be feeling those things 

he can’t, right? 

but the way you’re so gentle with him, never pushing him away when he treats you like the most precious thing on the sea

well, he realizes he might feel something more for you

Ace

the boy is blind, even more than you are 

he’s naturally clingy and touchy with people, a joyful boy 

yet, he seems worse with you 

he always keeps an arm around your shoulder, talking you about his dear brother a lot 

when he falls asleep out of nowhere, it’s usually on your shoulder or even falling on your back

the day he was drunk and put his hat on top of your head? everyone knew it was over 

if anyone tries to tell him about it, he just stays with his eyes open wide in shock 

he blinks a few times, slowly processing the words 

a shrug of shoulders and he just accepts it like this 

fine, perhaps he’s in love, but so what? 

he doesn’t change anything, it just means he can be even closer to you than before

thank you!

[ironrea]

you’ve been conditioned to not believe..

   … a rant

so i’ve been on vacation recently, specifically to the beach, and it got me thinking about a lot of things.. so as a child, i was always running to be in the water - like constantly-  and there was so much more wonder, hotels were bigger, places seemed nicer, i didn’t worry what people thought of me based on the swimsuit i was wearing, etc. i was just so happy to be there and there was no bad thought or anxiety that took that away from me, but today, i only got in the ocean once.. yes that’s it. little me would be horrified because she was constantly begging someone to swim with her and if they said no, she would stubbornly walk in the water by herself until she got yelled at because she was too little to be by herself. i genuinely laid down the entire time today and while there’s nothing wrong with that,  it made me realize how tired i am now and how all the adults when i was a kid also didn’t want to get up… to my younger self, it used to be such an adventure and such a big thing to me, and now, here i was, literally on a beach either sleeping or on my phone… things i could just be doing in my bed. and to me that was just so sad, you know? so anyway how does this relate to shifting, you ask? it made me think about how easy it is to believe things as a child but it becomes increasingly more difficult as we grow. because as we grow older, we soon grow out of imagination and say goodbye to a hundred percent optimism. we start to believe in the confines that are pushed on to us and submit to the conditions this awful reality has given us: wake up, school/work, eat, sleep, then die… and that’s why i think so many people find it hard to believe in shifting or the fact that they can shift. this reality’s ‘laws’ and (yes) the government have shaped our minds so much so to think that that’s all there is.. or at least tried to. as a shifter myself before i found it that was always my question “that’s it? that’s all i get to expierence? really?” but then i found shifting and i latched on, much like many of you did yourself. but so many people have given up or straight up opposed it because that’s “not the way we’re supposed to live!” but genuinely why would you listen to someone like that? so honestly brainwashed and empty? i mean i feel bad for these people sometimes because they will never experience anything like this. perhaps things could come close in this reality but… actually no. i don’t think anything comes close to shifting. we get to experience going into whatever shows and films we love most, we can meet characters people that we love, celebrities people we look up too, visit ANY period in time, become anything we’ve ever wanted to, go to places on our bucket list and even places that “only exists” in books and fairytales, and so much more. but so many fucking people won’t believe in it because we’ve literally been conditioned not to. i know i sound like a conspiracist and maybe that’s because im on the floor (again) with an awful sunburn, heat headache and had the urge out of nowhere to write this into my notes app but genuinely please just do NOT let other peoples limited beliefs affect you… i have more in my head but like idk,,, just can’t put them into words right now or i just straight up forget.. so thats it. for now.

[writingpandagoth]

Hello,

I have a request!!! But first a need to tell you that your works are masterpiece. Can you write please some Snape x reader. Something fluff. Maybe they’re talking about kids? What if Severus came up with idea, that he want a kid. (Severus is definitely a girl dad)

Thank you so much.❤️

I can say this basically wrote it itself. 😂

Severus is so Girl Dad it hurts in the best way possible!

so here you go I hope you enjoy.

A Future In His Eyes

The sun filtered softly through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the cozy cottage in a gentle golden glow. The scent of lavender and fresh thyme drifted in from the garden outside, mingling with the warm, comforting aroma of tea steeping in the pot and something sizzling gently on the stove.

You hummed under your breath, swaying slightly as you stirred a pan of eggs, wrapped in one of Severus' oversized sweaters—black, of course, and far too large for you, which made it perfect. Your bare feet padded across the wooden floor, warm from the fire burning low in the hearth behind you.

Severus sat nearby in his favorite armchair, a cup of Earl Grey in one hand and a worn, leather-bound book in the other. His long fingers absentmindedly traced the spine of the book as his eyes occasionally flicked over the top of it to watch you. He wouldn't admit it aloud—not yet—but the sight of you in his clothes, hair mussed by sleep, moving so comfortably in the home you'd built together… it did something to his chest he couldn’t quite name.

He took a sip of his tea, clearing his throat lightly. "You’ll set the bar impossibly high if you keep cooking breakfast like this."

You grinned over your shoulder. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m doing an excellent job.”

"Hmph," he muttered, turning a page, but the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly in the direction of a smile.

You plated the food with a flourish and brought it over to the small table near the fire. As you sat, Severus set his book aside and reached for the butter with a grace that was almost too elegant for something so mundane.

"You slept well?" he asked, his tone casual—but his eyes scanned your face with an attentiveness that gave him away.

“I did. You were extra cuddly last night,” you teased, poking his leg under the table with your toe.

He gave a soft snort and reached for his tea again. “Don’t be absurd.”

But he didn’t pull away when your foot nudged him again. In fact, his own leg gently pressed back.

For a few minutes, silence reigned, but it was the comfortable kind—the kind born of two people so used to each other's presence that words weren’t always needed.

And then, just as you reached to refill your tea, a knock sounded at the back door.

You glanced at Severus. “Expecting someone?”

He raised a brow. “We live in the middle of nowhere. Who would be mad enough to find us?”

You laughed softly and padded to the door, opening it to reveal your neighbor from down the lane, bouncing a chubby-cheeked baby girl on her hip.

“I’m so sorry to drop in unannounced,” she said quickly, “but my husband had a bit of an accident with a rake and I need to take him to St. Mungo’s—could you watch Emma for just a little while?”

Your heart melted at the sight of the baby gurgling happily in her arms. “Of course, just give her to me.”

And as you scooped the giggling baby into your arms, Severus watched from the hearth, utterly still, his tea forgotten in his hand.

There it was—that soft ache again. The one that settled behind his ribs as he watched you cradle the tiny child like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you cooed and smiled, the way the baby giggled and reached for your nose.

He hadn’t expected it to hit him like this.

But it did. Hard.

And Merlin help him, for the first time in his life… Severus Snape began to wonder what it would be like to have something so small and perfect, not just visiting—but being his.

The general store in the village wasn’t exactly a bustling place—just a small, quaint shop with shelves of enchanted household items, sweets, and the occasional rack of baby supplies tucked in one corner. You and Severus had popped in to pick up some tea, parchment, and a new kettle after the last one exploded in a tragic experiment gone wrong (you did tell him not to add powdered bicorn horn, but would he listen?).

You were halfway through debating between two different types of enchanted parchment when you noticed something.

Severus was… gone.

Not far, of course. You spotted him a few aisles over, standing very, very still.

You tiptoed up behind him and peered around his shoulder.

Diapers. Bottles. Teething rings that chirped lullabies. Little onesies with stars that shimmered and moved across the fabric like constellations. And your intimidating, darkly-clad husband stood in front of them like he’d just been hit with a Confundus Charm.

You tilted your head, curious. “Sev?”

He blinked once. Twice. Then turned slightly to look at you.

“…They make booties this small?” he asked, almost to himself, holding up a pair that looked more like doll shoes than anything a real human could wear.

You blinked.

“Oh, we’re here now,” you whispered under your breath, fighting a grin.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling softly as you wrapped an arm around his and leaned against his side. “Just enjoying watching you fall headfirst into baby fever.”

“I am not—” He cleared his throat. “I was merely… curious. About the… market.” His voice trailed off.

“Mmhmm. That’s why you’re holding a pink stuffed Puffskein and stroking its fur like it's already yours.”

Severus looked down at his hands and, indeed, found himself petting a plushie.

He promptly dropped it like it had burned him. “Hmph.”

That night, back at home, the fire crackled low in the hearth, and the wind whispered outside your bedroom window. You lay in bed, curled beneath thick blankets.

Severus joined you moments later, slipping beneath the covers with a sigh. He smelled like bergamot and a hint of cedarwood, fresh from a shower, his hair damp and loose around his shoulders.

You rolled over to face him, your nose brushing his as you smiled sleepily.

He looked at you for a long moment, quiet, unreadable. Then his hand moved under the covers and rested—tentatively, then deliberately—on your stomach.

You raised an eyebrow. “Severus?”

He didn’t look at you. His eyes were on your belly. Still unreadable, still so quiet. Like if he breathed too loudly, the moment would shatter.

Finally, in the softest voice you’d ever heard from him, he murmured:

“Do you think… we’d have a boy or a girl? Hypothetically of course”

You let out a huff before reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from his cheek.

“I think… completely hypothetical it wouldn’t matter. As long as they had your eyes.”

That got him. His throat bobbed with emotion, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. His hand didn’t move from your stomach.

And neither of you said anything more that night.

Because sometimes, the silence said everything.

The evening had settled like a warm blanket over your home, the fire in the hearth crackling low, casting golden light across the wooden floor and the rug where you and Severus sat together. The air smelled of clove and cinnamon from the tea still steaming on the side table, untouched.

You were curled up on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, your head resting lightly against Severus’ shoulder. He had one arm wrapped loosely around you, fingers drawing idle circles along your arm.

It was quiet— A shared stillness. A home built in love, not just walls.

But Severus… was fidgeting.

Not overtly, no. But you could feel the tension humming beneath his calm exterior. His fingers slowed. His breathing was measured—but a touch too deliberate.

“Sev?” you murmured, not lifting your head. “You’re thinking too loud.”

He huffed a soft breath, not quite a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

He was silent again. Long enough that you lifted your head and looked at him, really looked. And there it was—something. In his eyes. A weight. A spark. A fear.

Your brow furrowed. “Hey… whatever it is, just say it. You know I won’t laugh.”

His gaze dropped to your lips, then to your hand resting on his chest. Then, finally, back to your eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, voice low, uncertain, “about what it means to have peace. Real peace. Not… survival. Not hiding.”

You nodded gently, sensing more beneath it.

He swallowed. “And with you… I’ve found it. I never thought I would. Not in this lifetime.”

Your chest warmed at the words, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I see you,” he said, voice rougher now, “holding that child. Smiling like that. Like… like you were made for it.” He paused. “And something in me—something I thought was long dead—wanted.”

Your breath caught.

“I want… that. With you.”

He looked away, ashamed almost. “I know it’s selfish. To want more. To want a child when we already have so much. But I do. I want a family. I want to see you with them, hear you laugh like that every day. I want to hold something—someone—we made together.”

Then, softer still:

“I never thought I’d be the sort to want this. But with you… it’s different. I want everything. Even the chaos. Especially the chaos.”

Your heart was aching, full to the brim, eyes stinging with tears you hadn’t realized were gathering.

You reached for his hand and placed it over your heart.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you whispered. “About us. About little feet running through this house. About a tiny version of you, scowling and adorable.”

He choked on a laugh, blinking rapidly.

“I want that future, Severus. With you. All of it.”

And just like that, the tension cracked. He pulled you into his arms, holding you like something precious, his face buried in your neck.

“I love you,” he murmured. “More than I’ve ever known how to say.”

“You just did,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And with his arms wrapped around you, hearts pounding in quiet harmony, the future bloomed—brighter, warmer, and just a little more chaotic than either of you ever dreamed.

You hadn’t meant to hope—not really. But over the last few weeks, you’d found yourself lingering a little longer in the quiet moments. Holding your breath at every flutter in your stomach. Smiling softly at Severus whenever he absentmindedly reached for your hand, then hesitated… and gently laid it over your belly instead.

And now… you were here.

St. Mungo’s. Waiting room. Pale green walls. An enchanted fish tank bubbling softly in the corner. The faint scent of antiseptic and lavender.

Severus sat beside you, completely still—too still. His hand held yours, but his fingers twitched every so often, betraying the storm of nerves he would never speak of.

“They’re taking a while,” you said softly, more to fill the space than anything.

He didn’t answer right away. Then, in a low voice:

“They always take too long when it matters.”

Before you could reply, the door opened and the Healer stepped out, smiling warmly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Snape?”

You both stood in perfect sync.

“You can relax now,” she said, holding out a parchment. “Congratulations. You’re expecting.”

The words hit the air like a charm breaking—and Severus just… froze.

You squeezed his hand. “Sev…?”

His eyes were wide, mouth slightly parted, like he couldn’t quite understand what he’d just heard. Then—

He exhaled sharply, stepping closer to you, cupping your face with trembling hands. He searched your eyes as if needing confirmation it was real.

And then—he laughed. A choked, stunned, breathless little sound. You’d only heard it once or twice in your life. And this one was full of wonder.

You laughed too, eyes already wet. “Severus?”

“I… we… we’re going to have a baby,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

You pulled him close and as you held him, you felt him whisper against your neck:

“Thank you.”

—

You were barely showing—of course not, it had only been a few weeks. But that didn’t stop Severus from hovering around you like a fiercely protective, newly spellbound guardian.

You sat on the couch in your sleep clothes, sipping a bit of calming tea, when he knelt in front of you and gently pressed his forehead against your belly.

It was the softest thing.

No words. Just breath and reverence.

Then a kiss.

Then another.

And another—slow, reverent, as if your body had become sacred in his eyes.

“You haven’t even met us yet,” he murmured to the small, growing life inside you, “and I already love you more than anything.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, tears threatening again.

“We’re going to be okay,” you whispered. “All three of us.”

He looked up at you then—eyes shining, soul laid bare.

“I will protect you both with everything I have,” he said quietly. “I swear it.”

And in that moment, with the fire casting golden light over the both of you, Severus Snape became something he never believed he could be:

Hopeful.

—

The contractions had come slowly at first. A cramp. A twinge. You tried to downplay it, sipping tea by the window, casually noting the frequency in a little notebook.

But the moment you gave a sharp inhale and gripped the edge of the table—that was when Severus went into full-fledged panic-mode-disguised-as-calm.

“We’re going. Now,” he said, already summoning your hospital bag and wrapping a blanket around your shoulders like you were a porcelain doll.

“I can walk, Severus—”

“Absolutely not.”

The floo flared green, and within seconds, you were at St. Mungo’s, Severus pacing the maternity ward like a caged beast while Healers calmly led you through the early stages.

But the moment they told him he could come back, he flew through the door.

Hours passed.

It was agony and beauty all wrapped into one. You gripped his hand through each contraction, your face buried in his shoulder, your voice sometimes cracking with pain.

And Severus—stoic, battle-hardened Severus—was just there.

He whispered soft encouragements, wiped sweat from your brow, pressed kisses to your knuckles like talismans.

“You’re doing so well, love. Just a little more.”

“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

“You are… magnificent.”

And then—the cry.

A sharp, shuddering wail split the air.

Your head dropped back, breath stolen with exhaustion and relief as the Healers moved quickly, efficiently.

You caught only a glimpse—a tiny, wriggling, pink little thing wrapped in a soft green blanket—before they turned to Severus.

“Would you like to hold your Daughter, Mr. Snape?”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Just stared.

Then, with hands that trembled more than they ever had in his darkest days, he reached out.

And the moment his daughter was placed in his arms… Severus Snape broke.

He cried.

Right there, your brilliant, brooding, former Potions Master husband cried—quietly, helplessly, tears slipping down his cheeks as he stared down at her, his lips parted in silent wonder. His long fingers curled protectively around her.

“She…” His voice caught.

“She does have my eyes,”  he whispered.

You smiled, exhausted and glowing. “And your hair too.”

He let out a soft, choked laugh. “Poor thing.”

He turned to you, eyes filled with a love so complete it almost hurt to look at.

“I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel this,” he breathed.

And then he was beside you again, carefully lowering himself so the three of you were close—his arm around you, the baby nestled between you both.

Your tiny daughter blinked up at her parents, making a soft cooing sound.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered, kissing Severus' jaw.

And with you in his arms, and his daughter on his chest, Severus Snape—former spy, former war hero, forever your husband—held his whole world.

—

Sunlight streamed through the open windows of your cottage, warm and golden, dancing across the wooden floors and the wildflower bouquet Severus had picked that morning—though he claimed it was for "her," you knew it was for both of you.

Laughter echoed through the house. Tiny, high-pitched laughter.

You stood in the kitchen, sipping tea, when you heard the unmistakable sound of padded little feet scampering unevenly across the floor.

“Dada!”

Severus turned from his armchair, instantly alert, wand forgotten on the table, potions notes abandoned. His entire world toddled toward him in a flurry of mismatched socks and raven curls that refused to stay tamed.

She crashed into his legs and immediately reached up with grabby little hands. “Up!”

He scooped her up without hesitation, holding her high above his head as she shrieked with joy.

“You’re going to give your dada a heart attack,” he said sternly—but his voice was filled with adoration, and his smile was uncontainable.

You leaned against the doorframe, heart full to bursting as you watched him spin her in a slow, careful circle.

“I think she gets that chaos streak from you,” he muttered over her head.

“I think you’re secretly delighted by it,” you shot back with a grin.

He huffed—but didn’t argue.

Later, after a whirlwind of toys, half-eaten snacks, and an enchanted lullaby mobile casting gentle stars across the ceiling, your daughter had finally fallen asleep in her crib. Her little hand still gripped a plush bat (one of his ideas), and her chest rose and fell in peaceful rhythm.

You leaned into Severus, both of you standing at the doorway, watching her sleep. His arm slid around your waist, drawing you close.

“She’s getting so big,” you whispered, head resting on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your hair and let out a soft breath.

“She’s everything.”

You turned to him, smiling. “She really is.”

There was a pause.

And then—

“I want another one.”

You blinked, lips parting. “You… what?”

He looked completely serious. A little nervous. A little too hopeful.

“I know it’s mad. I know things are chaotic and loud and I barely remember what silence feels like anymore. But…” He looked back at the crib, softer than ever. “There’s room in this house. There’s room in me.”

You stared at him, stunned… then smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Are you asking because you want a baby, or because you miss me waddling around and blaming you for my cravings?”

He snorted, pulling you in tighter. “Both.”

And right there, in the dim, quiet nursery—with lullabies humming and starlight dancing across the walls—you laughed into his chest, your heart full of everything you never even knew you’d dreamed of.

You looked up at him, eyes shining. “Then let’s make some more chaos.”

And Severus smiled down at you like you hung the moon.

[merakiui]

i know you've written this like a bazillion times but i cannot stop thinking about codependent azul.. the more pathetic the better the more Violent the better.. he cannot stand not being with you even for short periods of time and it drives him insane. some noncon too just for the funsies. he doesn't even trust jade and floyd to be near you im sorry im just saying whatever but the way you portrayed his character is sosososo good 😔

Omg clingy, codependent Azul!!! I will write him a bazillion times more because I love him so much hehe.╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

He’s so obsessed with you and genuinely believes you’re the only one for him. He’s constantly in awe that someone as wonderful as you could ever love someone like him, and he worries that maybe this is too good to be true and that he doesn’t deserve such happiness. It’s why he’s always so terrified of being apart from you because what if you find someone else and want to break up with him? He knows the twins have their own appeal and characteristics that you may fall for, which is why he never wants to leave you alone with them.

You do everything together. At first it was cute because you were a new couple and everything was seen through rose-tinted glasses. But now it’s so suffocating. You can’t even go shopping by yourself or take a walk. Azul has to be there with you, and if he can’t then you simply won’t go. He’s so upset when he finds out you’ve “snuck out” or have seen other people or done other things when he was too busy to accompany you. It’s why he’s started working from home more often. You’re starting to regret the fact that you live together under the same roof.

And the non-con… trying to have a conversation with him about breaking up, but he won’t hear it. He’s clinging to you and pressing his face into your neck, hands running along your bare skin beneath your shirt. Kissing along your jaw. “Azul, no, stop. This is serious. Please listen to me,” you’ll plead because now is not the time for sex and you don’t want that, but he’ll catch your hands in his and pin them down. Drag your hips against his on the sofa. Whatever you wish to discuss, you can do so afterwards. And maybe, he jokes with a smile, you might even change your mind after this. As if all it takes is a good fucking to knock any thought of separation from your head.

This Azul’s mentality is frightening. If he can’t have you, no one will. This is something he’s sure of. No one else deserves to know just how angelic you are. He’s got you ensnared and it’ll be hellish if you ever try to leave. If manipulation won’t work, force will. He thinks in extremes because that’s exactly what his obsession is. One big extreme.

[ataleofcrowns]

Hullo there mate, I love the writing, I've just gotten here and in having a blast

I just wanted to poke your head a bit more about the death of the sun vs blessing of the sun affinity, and in general also just about affinities in general

Inner vs outer magic seems to affect personality, does the affinity as well? If blessing feels like standing in the sun, what does death feel like? Is there any actual difference in powers? Is one or the other more suited to inner or outer magic?

Please feel free to say as much or as little as you want of course I'm just really curious about your world building

Hi! You might appreciate this ask where I go into possible symbolic interpretations for both Death of the Sun and Sun's Blessing.

But you do raise an interesting question as to magical affinity and magic type, and how that might "affect" someone's personality... in essence, I don't think it inherently changes someone's personality at all, but culturally/socially some people might change aspects of themselves (even if unconsciously) to "suit" their type/affinity!

For example, inner magic types because of the way their magic works and comes from within themselves may be seen as people who are more physical, direct, tough, etc. Conversely an outer magic type who usually does more ranged magic may be seen as more of a thinker, more strategic, cautious, and so on. But that all relates to people's perceptions of themselves and others.

There may also be some affinities that some people think "should" lean more towards inner vs outer, and so they change themselves to fit that preconceived notion. For example, someone with an earth related affinity thinking they should do more inner magic because strengthening your body with earth or stone seems like a natural fit, even though outer magic would work just as well. Or, someone with say, an affinity to lightning thinking they should do outer magic, etc.

So for your own Crown, I think that all depends on how you see their affinity and their preferred type working together!!