#and all of them are all such good friends with each other and I

[goaskangel]

roomates!john and simon x reader

cw : slight somno, smut, toxicity, age gap, quiet reader

you practically jumped from place to place while maintaining a college career. you made minimum wage with maximum rot. everyday seeming to blend into each other, then came the craigslist ad: you found yourself in the hands of ex-military men, looking for another roommate, with dirt-cheap rent. you wouldn’t mind if it felt more like a recruitment than stability. 

they welcomed you politely and casually, like you were an old time friend that was crashing for a while; returning, not arriving. really, you were a burned out kid in her late teens trying to make a living but with two older men.

but nights there weren’t so bad, in fact they were comforting. you’d doze off in your smaller room, nose in notes and snoring into highlighter ink but would wake up on the couch with a hefty blanket atop you. they’d be gone, left a little plate of breakfast on the coffee table. 

slowly, living became less of a hassle without the extra stress of no food, no time to clean, no shelter in general with them. everything seemed so—in control. your favorite lost pens would show back up, sleep didn’t feel like such a privilege. time started letting you catch your breath.

even with all these unexpected advantages, you kept your space and silence. you wouldn’t really run into them very often, not really leaving your room. staying quiet and controlling your breath. but it slowly wore off and you noticed the little things. john smiled at you, often. they both seemed to get along well—had the accents always been there? simon’s footsteps felt like a ghost passing while john was a bit heavier. they had deep inside jokes, you could tell by the way simon would even smirk and shake his head at the bearded man’s recalls. 

you’d start hanging out more in the living room, maybe join them on the balcony. john’s little grins made your thighs feel like tacky magnets. and he noticed.

john was bolder with his moves. you really couldn’t tell when he’d cross the line of platonic and sexual. until one sunday morning before your exams, your breath is picking up as sunlight hits your face. soft winces and thrives of your body until you yawn yourself awake to see john. his fingers lightly skimming over the pretty throb behind your damp panties. he greets you with a good morning like he usually does, your name on his tongue like it’s the only thing that has meaning. casually, as if he didn’t wake you up with his thumb gently stroking your clit. 

“big things comin’ up later this week, yeah? you wouldn’t mind if i lent a hand, just a bit, would you now?”

“john…” 

he moves up next to you, cooing just above your ear. your legs never close, so he takes that as an invitation. he slips his thick fingers behind your panties, humming at the obvious heat and wetness. you’re too tired—too comfortable to resist. he just wants to help you, he knows how stressed out you are, how long you’ve gone without getting touched. 

he was sweet; every time you’d leave for class he’d land kisses on your cheeks, if he’s lucky, your lips. maybe a soft grind to your lower back as he whispers in your hair. displays such acts of attraction, but only when simon’s not around. 

simon had his own ways, he was much more aggressive. once when he came back from the gym, shirt off with a sheeny layer of sweat on his pecs and broad shoulders, just dropped onto the couch and jerked his chin toward you. “c’mere,” he said—he didn’t say things twice. you finished fixing a plate of fresh tiramisu for yourself and sat beside him. 

“rough day?” he asked, “how’d the tests go?” his hand dropped to your knee—bare skin, warm palm. the kind of touch that didn’t ask first. you almost choked on your dessert. he never really talked unless price was nearby. never more than a nod, a grunt, and most definitely didn’t touch you so blatantly. he asked about the homemade trifle on your plate and you offered some to which he just opened his mouth. you hold back your smile, taking a good bite on your fork and feeding it to the older guy. he groaned in satisfaction—one that might as well have had you like a waterfall. you take turns taking bites before he finishes it with a lick to the fork. 

he makes more moves after that, obvious pushing to the kitchen counter. wrapping an arm around you while watching late night television. may have helped you finished one time after hearing you struggle in your room. he sat on the edge of your bed and intoxicated you with praises laced with his accent, your orgasm hitting you like a coma that blocked out the sound of his voice and the buzz of your vibrator. simon took that to his advantage and learned about all your little gadgets. finding each of them and tossing them out—you’ve got two guys in the flat, you need something more natural anyway. 

i wanna add onto this so bad eek masterlist

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Pairing: Mafia Ateez OT8x Reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, poly ateez, violence and weapons, mafia ateez, organized crime, parental death and grieving process, bullying, possessive and controlling behavior, suicidal thoughts

Summary: When Y/n Ricci is forced to marry Kim Hongjoong—leader of the notorious ATEEZ organization and one of eight men who cruelly abandoned her seven years ago—she finds herself trapped in their heavily guarded compound with the ghosts of her past. As she navigates the dangerous world of mafia politics and her own wounded heart, Y/n discovers that all eight powerful, irresistible men still harbor deep feelings for her, suggesting an unconventional solution to their shared dilemma. But before she can consider forgiving them, let alone loving them again, she must uncover the dark secret that tore them apart—a truth that could either heal their fractured bonds or destroy them all completely.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

18+ only- No Minors

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Masterlist

Chapter 5: Target Practice and Proximity

Off limits. Like you're property. Like you're a possession to be controlled and monitored.

They hadn't just trapped you in this house, they'd cut you off from the outside world entirely. From your friends, your support system, your entire life beyond these walls.

The audacity. The absolute fucking audacity.

They want to play games with your life? They want to isolate you completely?

“KIM HONGJOONG!”

Your voice echoes through the house like a war cry as you storm toward the gym, bare feet slapping against marble with each furious step. The rage coursing through your veins has reached a boiling point that makes your earlier knife-throwing incident look like a mild disagreement.

You slam the glass door open with such force that spider web cracks spread across its surface, the sound of fracturing glass punctuating your entrance like an exclamation point. Seven heads turn toward you in various states of surprise and alarm.

"Well, good morning to you as well, my lovely fiancé," Hongjoong says with faux sincerity, not even pausing in his workout routine. Sweat glistens across his torso as he continues his reps, treating your explosive entrance like a minor inconvenience.

You respond to his saccharine greeting with a perfectly articulated middle finger.

"I'm off limits?" you spit, the words dripping with venom.

“Because you’re mine now.” Hongjoong doesn’t even look at you, his focus remaining on his weights as if you’re nothing more than background noise. “And what’s mine doesn’t associate with other men.”

“Yours?” You let out a harsh laugh that echoes off the gym walls. “I’m not your fucking property, Kim Hongjoong.”

He finally stops his workout, setting down the weights with deliberate care before turning to face you. There’s something predatory in his gaze as he steps closer, invading your personal space.

“Aren’t you?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. “Your father signed the contract. Your name will be Kim in three months. That makes you mine in every way that matters.”

“A piece of paper doesn’t make me yours,” you spit back, refusing to back down even as he towers over you. “And neither does some archaic notion of ownership.”

His lips curve into that infuriating smirk. “We’ll see about that, little one.” The casual dismissal, the way he speaks about your future as if it's already set in stone, as if your opinion matters less than appearances, sends your anger to stratospheric levels.

"So I truly am a prisoner?" Your voice rises with each word. "So that means what—I won't be allowed to see any of my friends? Will I have to move so I won't be around any of the guys here?" The implications hit you, looking around. "Are you planning to isolate me from everyone I care about?"

Hongjoong stands to his full height, his expression infuriatingly calm. "Maybe so."

Your nostrils flare at his words, the casual cruelty of them stealing the breath from your lungs. The gym falls deadly silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing.

"Hongjoong, you know she has an attitude problem," Wooyoung stage-whispers from across the room, clearly trying to ease the tension with his trademark humor. "Why would you anger it?"

Your eyes slice toward him like laser beams, and Wooyoung suddenly becomes very interested in his water bottle, examining it as if it holds the secrets of the universe.

"Oh, would you look at that," he says dramatically, holding up the obviously full bottle. "Completely empty. I should really go refill this. The kitchen water is so much better than... here."

He takes a step toward the door, but your voice stops him cold.

"Don't you dare move, Jung Wooyoung."

Hongjoong sighs, finally seeming to realize that his dismissive attitude has pushed you past your breaking point. "You can't be seen with other men, or texting Chris Bang. It wouldn't make our marriage believable."

"What I do with my personal business is—" You stop mid-sentence, a horrifying realization dawning. Your eyes narrow as you look between all of them. "How did you know I was texting Chris?"

Hongjoong just stares at you, his expression giving away nothing. The silence stretches uncomfortably until Wooyoung starts fidgeting, looking increasingly nervous.

"Well, the water in the kitchen really is much better," he babbles, taking another step toward the exit. "Much more... hydrating. I should really—"

You move faster than anyone expects, grabbing him by the shirt collar and yanking him back. Your faces are inches apart as you look directly into his wide eyes.

"Are you running surveillance on my phone?" you ask, your voice deadly quiet.

Wooyoung swallows hard, his usual confidence evaporating under your intense stare. "Well... I mean... I'm personally not..."

The admission hits you like a physical blow. They've been watching you. Reading your private conversations. Monitoring your every interaction with the outside world. Yunho. You look at the resident hacker and tech nerd, who has the decency to look sheepish. 

A growl of pure fury escapes your throat. "I would say I'm going to shoot Yunho, but we all know it was your leader's idea."

You release Wooyoung's collar with enough force to send him stumbling backward. Your gaze sweeps the room, taking in their various expressions—guilt, defiance, nervousness, and in San's case, what looks almost like admiration.

But it's Wooyoung's reaction that catches you off guard. Instead of looking ashamed or apologetic, he's staring at you with a dreamy expression, his eyes slightly glazed.

"God, you're so hot when you're angry," he breathes, apparently forgetting that he's supposed to be nervous. "Like, seriously. The way your eyes get all fierce and your voice gets that growly thing... it's doing things to me."

The entire gym falls silent. Even Hongjoong stops his posturing to stare at Wooyoung in disbelief.

"Did you just..." Yunho starts.

"He did," Yeosang confirms quietly.

"While she's threatening to shoot people," Jongho adds, sounding almost impressed.

San starts laughing—not his usual charming chuckle, but full-bodied laughter that echoes off the gym walls. "Only Wooyoung would get turned on by a death threat."

"It's not just the death threat," Wooyoung protests, his cheeks flushing but his eyes still fixed on you with unmistakable desire. "It's everything. The fire in her eyes, the way she's not backing down, how fierce she looks. She's magnificent."

Your anger falters for just a moment, derailed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Here you are, discovering that they've been violating your privacy, threatening violence, and Wooyoung is having what appears to be a very public moment of arousal.

"Are you insane?" you ask, genuinely bewildered.

"Probably," he admits cheerfully. "But you're still gorgeous when you're ready to commit murder."

The comment draws a snort of unwilling amusement from Mingi, who's been silent throughout the entire confrontation. Even Seonghwa's lips twitch slightly, though he tries to maintain his diplomatic composure.

But your momentary confusion quickly gives way to renewed fury as you remember why you're here.

"Do not," you say, pointing a finger at Wooyoung, "think that your inappropriate attraction is going to distract me from the fact that you've all been spying on me."

"It's not spying," Hongjoong interjects, apparently deciding to rejoin the conversation. "It's security."

"Security?" You whirl on him. "Reading my private messages is security?"

"When those messages involve contact with potential threats, yes."

"Chris isn't a threat! He's my friend!"

"He's an unmarried male heir with his own agenda," Hongjoong counters. "And you're going to be my wife. That makes you off-limits to men like him."

The possessiveness in his tone, the casual way he claims ownership over your social life, sends you spiraling back into rage.

"I am not your property," you snarl. "I am not a possession to be controlled and monitored. I am a person with my own thoughts, feelings, and relationships."

"You're a Ricci who's about to become a Kim," he replies coldly. "Your relationships affect our family's reputation. Everything you do reflects on us now."

"Then maybe you should have thought of that before agreeing to this farce of a marriage," you snap back.

The words hang in the air like a challenge. Around the room, the other members watch the standoff with varying degrees of tension and fascination. This is clearly a battle of wills that's been building since your arrival, and now it's finally come to a head.

Hongjoong steps closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "This marriage is happening whether you like it or not. You can make it easy on yourself by accepting the rules, or you can make it difficult and face the consequences."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise."

The words crackle between you like electricity. In this moment, with fury radiating from both of you, it's impossible to tell if you want to kill each other or...

"Oh my God," Wooyoung whispers reverently. "The sexual tension in here is incredible. You two are like fire and gasoline."

"Wooyoung," Seonghwa warns.

"What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking. Look at them—they're practically breathing fire at each other. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Your face burns with a mixture of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge. "You're all insane," you declare, backing toward the door. "Completely, utterly insane."

As you reach the cracked glass door, you turn back to face them one last time.

"And Hongjoong? The next time you want to know who I'm talking to, try asking instead of spying. You might be surprised by how cooperative I can be when treated like a human being instead of a prisoner."

With that, you storm out, leaving eight men in various states of arousal, amusement, and stunned silence.

Behind you, you hear Wooyoung's dreamy voice: "I think I'm in love."

"You've been in love with her for years," comes San's dry response.

"Yeah, but now I'm in love and turned on. It's a dangerous combination."

You slam the door to your room hard enough to rattle the windows, but even through your fury, you can't quite shake the image of Wooyoung's glazed expression or the way Hongjoong's eyes had darkened when you'd challenged him.

Dangerous indeed.

* * *

You storm back to your room, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the windows. The confrontation in the gym replays in your mind—Hongjoong's possessive declarations, the casual way he discussed monitoring your communications, the infuriating smirk when you'd challenged him.

Your phone lays on the floor where you'd dropped it after Chris's devastating revelation. With shaking fingers, you scroll through your contacts until you find Marco's number. He picks up on the second ring.

"Sorellina? You're calling early today. Everything alright?"

The concern in his voice nearly breaks your composure. Marco has always been your anchor, the one person in your family who sees you as more than just a political asset.

"No," you say, your voice cracking slightly. "Nothing is alright."

"What happened?"

You take a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. "Hongjoong declared me off limits to all unmarried men in the alliance. Chris can't even talk to me anymore. None of my male friends can."

Silence stretches across the line. When Marco finally speaks, his voice is carefully controlled. "Y/n..."

"They've been monitoring my phone, Marco. Reading my private messages. And now they've essentially announced to everyone that I'm property of the Kim family." The words tumble out in a rush, years of frustration and fresh rage mixing into a volatile combination.

"Shit," Marco mutters, and you can hear him moving around, probably pacing his office like he does when he's thinking. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday, apparently. Chris just told me. He said word came down from the Kim family directly."

Another pause. "Y/n, I need you to listen to me, okay? And I need you to stay calm."

Something in his tone makes your stomach clench. "What do you mean, stay calm? They're treating me like a possession, Marco. Like I'm some medieval bride being traded between kingdoms."

"Because in our world, that's essentially what you are," he says gently. "Sorellina, this wasn't Hongjoong specifically. This is standard protocol for the Kim family—for most of our families, actually."

You sink onto the edge of your bed, feeling like the floor has shifted beneath your feet. "What?"

"It's like an engagement announcement, but more... comprehensive. When a family announces that their heir is marrying someone, especially someone from another powerful family, they declare that person off limits. It's about respect, territorial boundaries, preventing conflicts."

"But Chris said—"

"Chris is Bang family. They've been allies with the Kims for decades. Of course they'd receive the notification." Marco's voice is patient, explanatory, like he's teaching you something fundamental about your world that you should have already known. "Y/n, every family in the alliance probably received the same message within hours of your engagement being finalized."

The implications crash over you like a cold wave. This isn't Hongjoong being possessive or controlling—though he certainly is both of those things. This is protocol. Tradition. The way business is conducted in your world.

"I didn't know," you whisper.

"Why would you? Papa never explained these things to you because you were never supposed to be the one getting married. That was supposed to be my responsibility." There's a note of guilt in Marco's voice. "But with the Russo situation escalating and the need for immediate alliance..."

"He chose me instead," you finish hollowly.

"The Kim family specifically requested you, actually. Hongjoong's choice, from what I understand."

That stops you cold. "What?"

"Papa didn't tell you? The marriage proposal came from Hongjoong directly. He could have chosen any unmarried daughter from the allied families, but he asked for you specifically."

Your mind reels, trying to process this information. Hongjoong had asked for you. After seven years of silence, he'd specifically requested you as his bride.

"Why?" you ask, though you're not sure you want to know the answer.

"My guess? Papa has been thinking of marrying you to one of the mafia families for protection for a while now. Papa and Mr. Kim are close, so I assume Hongjoong got wind of it."

"Possessive," you say flatly.

"Protective," Marco corrects gently.

You snort. "If I have so many protectors, why am I always the one getting hurt?"

Marco is silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer. "Because none of us are very good at protecting against emotions, sorellina. Just against violence."

The truth of that statement sits heavily in your chest. Marco was eight years your senior, your father's son from his first marriage. Elena, your mother, hadn't been his biological mother, but he had loved her just the same—and he had been there for you when everyone else had disappeared.

After your mother died and the boys abandoned you, it was Marco who had picked up the pieces. Marco who had held you through nights of endless tears. Marco who had made sure you ate when food seemed pointless. Marco who had literally stood between you and the balcony railing one particularly dark night when living had seemed too painful to continue.

He was the reason you were still breathing. The reason you had found your strength again.

‘No, you're the only one who actually protects me,’ you think to yourself. 

Marco chuckles, the sound warm and familiar. "At the end of the day, Y/n Ricci doesn’t need protecting. Still throwing knives at him?"

"Just the once. Though I'm considering making it a daily occurrence."

"My money's on you if it comes to actual violence," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "But Y/n, try to understand—this off-limits declaration, it's not necessarily about controlling you. It's about protecting the alliance, preventing misunderstandings, making it clear that you're under Kim protection now."

"Protection," you repeat flatly. "It feels like imprisonment."

"In our world, they're often the same thing," Marco says quietly. "You know that."

You do know that. You've always known that. But somehow, experiencing it firsthand feels different than understanding it in theory.

"I hate this," you admit, the words barely audible.

"I know, sorellina. I know." Marco's voice is soft, sympathetic. "But you're a Ricci. We adapt, we survive, and we find ways to win even when the game is rigged against us."

"And if I can't adapt to this?"

"Then you'll do what you've always done—you'll burn everything down and rebuild it your way." There's pride in his voice now, the kind of fierce affection that's sustained you through the worst moments of your life. "The Kims think they're getting a compliant mafia princess. They have no idea what they've actually signed up for."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling slightly. "You really think I can handle this?"

"Y/n, you've been preparing for this world your entire life, even if you didn't know it. You're sharper than most of the men in these families, you're ruthless when you need to be, and you have a moral compass that will keep you from becoming a monster." Marco pauses. "Plus, you're scary as hell when you're angry. That's going to serve you well."

"The scary part seems to be working," you admit, thinking of Wooyoung's reaction in the gym. "Though not in the way I expected."

Marco laughs. "What do you mean?"

You find yourself telling him about the confrontation, about Wooyoung's completely inappropriate response to your threats, about the way the others had reacted. By the time you finish, Marco is laughing so hard he can barely speak.

"Oh my God," he gasps. "Y/n, you have eight of the most dangerous men in the city wrapped around your finger and you don't even realize it."

"That's not—they hate me, Marco. They abandoned me seven years ago, remember?"

"Sorellina," Marco says, his voice turning serious again, "men don't monitor someone they hate. They don't specifically request someone they hate for marriage. And they definitely don't get turned on by death threats from someone they hate."

The words settle in your chest, creating an uncomfortable flutter that you don't want to examine too closely.

"Maybe," you say finally. "But that doesn't change what they did to me."

"No, it doesn't," Marco agrees. "And you have every right to make them pay for that. Just... try not to actually kill anyone. I don't want to have to explain to Papa why his daughter is wanted for murder."

"No promises," you say, but you're smiling now.

"Fair enough. Listen, Y/n, I have a meeting I can't postpone, but call me tonight, okay? And remember—you're not as powerless in this situation as you think you are."

After he hangs up, you sit in the quiet of your room, processing everything he's told you. The off-limits declaration wasn't personal—it was protocol. Hongjoong had specifically requested you as his bride. The Kim family, like most families in your world, operates by rules and traditions that value protection and territorial boundaries above individual freedom.

None of that makes you feel less trapped, but it does help you understand the game you're playing.

And if you're going to be stuck in this situation, you might as well learn to play it to win.

You look out the window at the oak tree, remembering Yeosang's words about Mingi and Wooyoung, remembering the careful way Hongjoong had watched you during your confrontation, the way Yunho's eyes had held desperate hope.

Maybe Marco is right. Maybe you have more power here than you realize.

The question is: what are you going to do with it?

* * *

The meeting room was thick with tension as all eight members of ATEEZ sat around the polished conference table. Hongjoong's jaw was still tight from the confrontation in the gym, while the others wore various expressions of concern, guilt, and in Wooyoung's case, lingering arousal.

"We need to discuss what just happened," Seonghwa began diplomatically, his fingers steepled as he surveyed the group.

"What's to discuss?" Hongjoong replied curtly. "She needs to understand her position."

"Her position?" Mingi's deep voice carried an edge of disapproval. "You mean as a prisoner?"

"As my future wife," Hongjoong corrected sharply.

"Same thing, apparently," San muttered, earning a glare from their leader.

Yunho shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "The phone monitoring... maybe we should have told her upfront."

"We went too far," Mingi said firmly, his usually gentle demeanor hardening. "Reading her private messages, isolating her from friends—we're treating her like the enemy instead of someone we're supposed to protect."

"Protect?" Jongho scoffed. "We're the ones she needs protection from at this point."

"She threw a knife at my head," Hongjoong reminded them.

"And you smirked about it," Yeosang observed quietly. "Almost like you enjoyed it."

"Because I did," Hongjoong admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Seeing that fire in her eyes, that defiance... it reminded me of why I—" He stopped himself abruptly.

"Why you fell in love with her in the first place?" Wooyoung finished with a dreamy sigh. "God, did you see her today? The way she grabbed my shirt, looked me right in the eye? I thought I was going to spontaneously combust."

"You have a problem," San told him flatly.

"The problem is that we're all still in love with her," Mingi said heavily. "And she hates us. We broke something precious seven years ago, and now we're making it worse."

"We didn't have a choice then," Seonghwa said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"And we do now?" Yunho asked. "Because we're still making choices that hurt her."

The room fell silent as the weight of their situation settled over them. They'd saved her life seven years ago by breaking her heart, and now they were slowly destroying what remained of her spirit.

"Maybe we should—" Hongjoong started.

*BANG!*

The sharp crack of gunfire cut through his words, sending all eight men to their feet in an instant. Training kicked in as they moved as one toward the sound, hands reaching for weapons

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

The shots were coming from the garden, rapid and precise. They burst through the patio doors to find you standing in the far corner of the grounds, your mother's pearl-handled pistol extended in a perfect two-handed grip.

You were still in your outfit from the gym confrontation—the crisp white blouse now rolled up at the sleeves, your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. But it was the deadly grace of your stance that made them all stop in their tracks.

*BANG!*

Another shot rang out, the bullet finding its mark in the center of an improvised target you'd set up against the garden wall—what looked like a photo taped to a piece of cardboard.

"Jesus Christ," San breathed.

You lowered the weapon, examining your handiwork with critical eyes before reloading with practiced efficiency. Only then did you notice your audience.

"Don't mind me," you called out with false sweetness. "Just working on my stress relief."

Wooyoung's face split into the widest grin any of them had seen from him since your return. "That was incredible! Did you see that grouping? She's a natural!"

"Her form is off," Mingi observed, his trained eye catching the slight imperfections in your stance.

You turned to face him, one eyebrow arched in challenge. "Your form is off," you replied with cutting sarcasm, though you made no move to correct your position.

Instead of being deterred by your attitude, Mingi stepped forward with characteristic determination. "May I?"

Something flickered in your eyes—surprise, perhaps, at his calm persistence. After a moment, you gave a short nod.

He approached slowly, respectfully, until he was standing just behind you. "Your stance is good, but your grip could be tighter," he said softly, his deep voice rumbling near your ear. "And you're tensing your shoulders."

His large hands came up to hover near yours, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "May I adjust your grip?"

The question was asked with such gentle formality that you found yourself nodding again, though your breath caught as his fingers finally made contact with yours.

Mingi's touch was surprisingly gentle for such large hands, his fingers carefully repositioning yours on the weapon's grip. "Like this," he murmured, his chest nearly brushing your back as he leaned in to check the sight line. "Feel the difference?"

You did feel a difference, though it had less to do with the gun and more to do with the way his proximity was affecting your ability to breathe properly. He smelled like sandalwood and something uniquely him, warm and comforting in a way that made your treacherous heart skip.

"Now, relax your shoulders," he continued, his hands ghosting over your shoulder blades without quite touching. "The tension travels down your arms and affects your accuracy."

Despite yourself, you found your body responding to his calm instruction, muscles you hadn't realized were tight beginning to loosen.

"Better," he said, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Now try."

You raised the weapon again, hyperaware of his presence behind you, the way he seemed to radiate calm strength. The shot that followed was noticeably more precise than your previous attempts.

"Perfect," Mingi said, and the pride in his voice sent an unwelcome warmth through your chest.

From their position by the patio, the other seven watched this interaction with varying degrees of fascination and envy. Wooyoung looked like he might vibrate out of his skin with excitement, while Hongjoong's expression had darkened considerably.

"Should we interrupt?" Yunho whispered.

"Absolutely not," Yeosang replied quietly. "This is the first time she's let any of us close since she arrived."

"Look at her," San murmured, noting the way your rigid posture had softened under Mingi's gentle guidance. "She's actually relaxed."

"Mingi always was good with her," Seonghwa observed. "Even as children, he could calm her down when the rest of us couldn't."

In the garden, you lowered the weapon again, turning slightly to look at Mingi. He was still standing close—closer than you'd allowed anyone since arriving—and for a moment, something passed between you that had nothing to do with firearms training.

You glanced at Yeosang who gave you a nod. You remember your conversation. "Mingi and Wooyoung—they don't show it the way the others do, but they were affected the worst by leaving you."

"Thank you," you said quietly, the words carrying more weight than a simple acknowledgment of instruction.

"Anytime," he replied, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

The moment stretched between you, fragile and tentative, until Wooyoung's excited voice shattered it.

"Can I try next? Please? I promise I'll be good!"

You stepped away from Mingi abruptly, the spell broken, your defenses slamming back into place. "I think that's enough for today," you said curtly, engaging the safety and tucking the pistol into your waistband.

As you walked past them toward the house, you paused beside Wooyoung. “Maybe next time.”

With that, you disappeared into the house, leaving eight men standing in the garden, each lost in their own thoughts about the woman who continued to surprise them at every turn.

"Did anyone else notice," Wooyoung said dreamily, "that she said 'next time'?"

"I noticed," Mingi said quietly, his eyes still fixed on the door where you'd disappeared. "I also noticed she didn't flinch when I touched her."

"Progress," Yeosang murmured.

"Dangerous progress," Hongjoong added, though his tone held more thoughtfulness than anger.

In the distance, they could hear a door slam—your door, most likely—but for the first time since your arrival, it didn't sound quite so final.

Maybe, just maybe, there was hope after all.

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[heyyoufriendthere]

Nobody asked, but hey. I’m unreasonably sure of myself when it comes to comic book opinions.

Aunt May doesn’t know Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

I mean, she does NOW, but for a good majority of Peter’s career from the sixties up? Hell no. I know it’s cute whenever she’s dying to get that scene where she’s “always known,” and fandom LOVES a “it’s SO obvious when you think about it” moment for when they want to dump on the medium, but no. May Parker doesn’t know he’s Spider-Man and- more importantly- she DOES NOT want to know, and I like it that way.

“Why?” I hear you ask. “She’s been basically his mom since he was a little freaky marvel baby! Who on earth knows him better than her? How on earth couldn’t she have figured out her beat to shit nephew wasn’t Spider-Man when he’s basically just leaving his blood and costume all over his room?”

1. Because as feel good as it is, the Parker household isn’t sunshine and roses. May and Peter shut themselves off for years after Ben died. They love each other to death, but they don’t communicate. He's either shut away in his room, cracking jokes or off running around doing god knows what.

She's talking around him. Walking on eggshells. They both blame themselves, and it took decades for them to admit that to each other. Peter let the robber go, May chased him off because they got into an argument.

This shared guilt manifests in them both desperately wanting to take care of each other.

First, Peter throws himself into being both the Spider-Man, AND, more importantly, the breadwinner. The boy is broke. You know it, I know it, it's one of the single most iconic and relatable things about him. He gets weird about it. He's ALWAYS worried about it. I hear he might even have a money-worrying disease.

Money or the lack thereof has always been important to the mythos, even before Ben's death, but before Ben dies it manifested in things like Peter wanting a car or motorcycle the family couldn't afford and doing a wrestling gig. After Ben dies, his priorities shift.

He treats Aunt May like she’s made of glass (to be fair, she kinda is. Early Spider-Man has that woman fainting or having a heart attack every other week. Her constitution is held up by tissues, the US Healthcare system and Anna Watson’s unbreakable back muscles.)

Now, on top of being a near full time super hero, he's also saddled himself with the responsibility of taking care of the only parental figure he's got left in life while also trying to juggle both school and spending time with a friend group whose bank accounts aren't worried about when Jonah's feeling particular chipper about paying his employees.

Now he's trying to cover May's medical bills. Now he's trying to cover the rent. Now he's more worried about leaving May alone to live with Anna when his burgeoning friendship with Harry Osborn and the Coffee Bean Gang has netted him a free, all expenses paid apartment.

Meanwhile.

May's doing the exact goddamn thing. Richard and Mary dying the way they did kicked off the Parker family habit of keeping secrets, and Ben dying kicked her s-mothering into overdrive. She starts doting on him in a way that makes him feel like a child (modern depictions will try to convince you he was an itty bitty baby boy when he got his powers. They're lying. He was out of high school like 30 issues after Amazing Spider-Man #1.)

She's pawning her jewelry. She's trying to set him up with Mary Jane because she knows what's best for him (he needs someone fun and energetic because he's so quiet, and it's certainly not going to be that awful Betty Brant who will keep him on his toes).

Her entire idea of their relationship is that he's functionally helpless and she needs to take care of him. She’s not getting younger! Practically has one foot in the grave! That’s why she needs to put on an act to show him that everything is fine.

Richard and Mary are dead. Ben is dead. She's barely functioning on her and Ben's savings, the things she can sell and the money Peter's bringing in from his photography work. But it’s fine! Everything is fine and life will be just a bit brighter with a nice schmear on the bagel.

(Shout out to JM DeMattheis for showing up in the 90's to inject some fucking LIFE into Aunt May. Look at that quirked eyebrow. What a legend. Never read his Doctor Fate run, it will give you hives.)

2. Because, contrary to popular belief, Peter’s VERY good at hiding his identity and gaslighting his friends and family, especially when you combine his GGG skills with the good old Parker luck and its passive debuff to everyone's collective sanity.

Is this not the face of a woman doing okay in her relationship with New York's Friendly Neighborhood dirtbag?

I blame the Ultimate Spider-Man cartoon (he's fine with Shield immediately revealing his identity to a group of teen heroes? Absolutely the fuck not.) and the continuing woobification of comic books for how much this idea that Peter's inherently bad at keeping his identity secret comes up, because it's backbreaking work Peter doing to pull the wool over all of their eyes.

Why is he late? His job. Why is he never around? His job. What could his excuse be this time? Aunt May had her bi-weekly heart attack. Why is he beat to hell and back? He got hurt in the middle of getting pictures of Spider-Man. Why won't he ask for help? Why do none of his friends find this suspicious?

Part of it's because he didn't have friends in High School except for Betty and Liz Allen. He was an angry loner too stuck up his own ass about how smart he was to take the NUMEROUS opportunities presented to him to actually engage with his peers except to fight with Flash, (don't let modern depictions fool you either. Flash Thompson and Peter Parker weren't Bully and Bullied, they were enemies. They gave as good as they got. That's also, not coincidentally, why Gwen and Harry's first impressions of him in college were that he was rude little jackass).

So by the time he's in college and finally has a social life, literally everyone is used to him being a flake.

Which isn't to say that's the only way he's keeping his secret.

Here's the first of a few attempts to tell people exactly who he is.

Peter has a habit of telling his friends the truth they need to hear you see. Sometimes when he's delirious, sometimes when he's not, like here at Gwen's birthday party.

Or here when he's finally resolved himself to stop ruining his girlfriend Debbie's life after numerous therapy sessions about how she knows he's Spider-Man.

But that'll never be the end of it! He can't just out himself to the people he loves! No! He just made Gwen cry! Think about what this would do to May! So he does things like going to Hobie Brown to help him sucker the gang back into blissful ignorance.

Or walking back his reveals the second someone doesn't take them seriously.

After all, if it's fixed her and she doesn't suspect a thing, why bother telling her the truth? Yeesh. She goes on to write a book about it, it’s very funny.

But you get my point. Peter gets both very good at keeping his identity secret and is very wary of actually telling anyone over the years, to the point that just about the only people who knew leading up to the Civil War reveal were Mary Jane (don't you love a friendly neighborhood retcon?), the Fantastic 4, off again/on again dead or dying Harry/Norman Osborn, and Black Cat.

Otherwise it’s just people with superpowers or extenuating circumstances ENTIRELY out of his control that find out, like when he gets ambushed by Serial Sniffers like Wolverine and Daredevil. Or when he gets outed by his gooey ex Venom after it oozed onto Eddie Brock. Or the occasional psychic like Cyclop’s and Jean Grey's time/dimension adrift fail-son Nate Grey.

But this is a post about Peter and Aunt May, so let's get back to that before I run wild and free on another tangent.

3. Aunt May has had so many opportunities to know his secret. She finds his costume in his room!

She's literally seen a whole doll made of web fluid in his bed! She faints immediately of course, it was the sixties, but what does he do? Does he say, "Oh Aunt May, I'm so sorry I've been lying to you for awhile, I'm actually Spider-Man"? No! Of course he doesn't! He lies about why the hell there was a webbing doll in his fucking bed!

But why does she believe him?

Because it all comes back to this.

If Aunt May knows three things, it's that Aunt May knows her nephew.

Aunt May knows reality.

And Aunt May knows that she HATES Spider-Man.

Wait what?

Yeah! Aunt May hates Spider-Man, go figure. That rotten motherfucker is the cause of so much grief in her life. Why is Peter getting hurt? He's taking pictures of Spider-Man. Who's always causing trouble in the Daily Bugle? Spider-Man. She's set to marry Otto Octavius, and who shows up to ruin it? Spider-Man. George Stacy died, orphaning Gwen?! Spider-Man! GWEN DIED? SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-FUCKING-MAN!

She hates him so much that she pulls a gun on him. She fires it! There's a BKOW effect and everything!

Let that sink in. Not only is this the only time Aunt May has ever used a gun in the main continuity, but it's pointed at him. In her purse you'll find petty cash, some important documents, her change purse, a cooking utensil or two, and Aunt May's Glock For Spider-Man.

To me, Aunt May not knowing and not wanting to know is an important part of the character because her not being able to square these two things she knows are true in the same round hole makes her even more compelling. Peter Parker is her frail nephew who she loves more than anything in the world and Spider-Man is singlehandedly the largest, most destructive cause of stress for the Parkers. If her finding out isn't a shock, if it isn't negative, then something is wrong with the reveal.

Because you can't tell me that this woman finally coming to terms with the fact that Peter Parker is Spider-Man is going to be a peaceful affair. That she'd know and just be waiting for him to tell her.

This is a woman who hates and loves with a passion. Peter is her son and she's going to do what any good mother would do if they found out their kid is actively putting himself in harms way and lying about it to their face. Fic culture and games like Insomniac's Spider-Man, LOVE to smooth over all of her edges. She's the perfect, prim, caring Aunt May with infinite patience and a penchant for dramatic reveals. Can she be sad? Sure. Happy? Always. Worried about her nephew? No problem. Sometimes she can even be disappointed.

But angry? Not the perfect mother? No we can't have that, what about our feel good narrative? God forbid if she occasionally bites Peter the way he bites everyone around him! That would sully the message!

I don't know. I've spent the past five hours typing this up and finding my various images. Section 2 had to be cut way down because I can't hop across 12 more runs looking for the way he let Harry get trucked off to a mental hospital or how he burned Norman's goblin suits to keep him from relapsing from his amnesia and revealing his identity.

Long story short. Let May kill a man. Let her have a reaction less tepid than gasping out how proud she is of Peter. It's what makes those moments when she starts harassing Jonah and the Bugle feel so much better. It's why it's so cathartic to see them finally reconcile. Smooth Aunt May has never and will never hit the same.

[nmhk]

It's weird disappointing how the republican administrations and senators are so freely and readily able to lie about things to further their own agenda, and then get caught in the lie and somehow, every time, [weasel || porcupine || raccoon || fox || etc ad nauseum infinitum] their way out of it

And every 2 and 4 years we keep electing the same or similar liars back into office. But no, we don't need no education. No history lessons. No civics classes. Nah, we're good, looking at our screens, playing our distractions over and over again. While other countries leap ahead, and the class warfare goes seemingly unchecked.

We'll continue being temporarily embarrassed millionaires, abashed race car drivers, ashamed fashion models, forever looking to celebrities for guidance. Forever letting people in power tell us how to feel, who and whom to love or hate. Forever consuming without thought like ungulates chewing cud.

They say, "it's a dog eat dog world," because they want us to treat each other as animals, competing for scarce resources. But resources aren't scarce. How did our world population get over 8 billion? Mercantilism brought trade to the world, but developed into this cut throat capitalism which demands scarcity (usually faked) to survive.

Not buying into the system is how we kill it. We don't want politicians influenced by corporations (they are people, my friend)? Don't buy their products. Don't look at ads. Don't support the monetary system that is a zero- sum game. We can easily see the effects by looking at our monopoly board and counting how many people have x amount of fake money. Those on Boardwalk and Park Place? Yeah, that's not us, is it? You want to win this game? The only way is to step away from the board.

Yes, yes it is easier said than done. But bartering still works.

Blah blah blah

I can only hold this energy so long. As can you. We need to work together, support each other, stand in solidarity against those who try and break us apart.

I believe in universal interconnectedness. We are all connected in a way that is unexplained and poorly explored. I don't know how many of you remember nine-eleven, but the pick 3 and pick 4 numbers drawn coinciding with thousands of entries matching these numbers, while being chalked up to mere coincidence, could also either be one of two other things. 1) the system is obviously rigged (in whatever way is most plausible) 2) thousand of people putting their thoughts and aligning their [energy || Chakra || life force || pure will power || etc] into wanting these numbers to be drawn, not once, but on multiple occasions, speaks to me of something greater.

The more obvious scientific answer is a rigged system.

My whole point is we can change the system of we all work together. Yes, I know! I'm an idealistic idiot. So what? Does my hope for humanity stop your everyday travails? Does it hurt my interactions with others that I try to see the best version of them in conversation? Why would someone poo-poo the idea of wanting interconnectedness if it doesn't hurt anyone?

Oh. I'm getting it now. That kind of hope can turn into a religion. I see. If it's only faith-based, it's bad. Okay. Well. I guess humanity isn't full of artists who move you with simple pictures and words. I guess nature can only be seen through a scientific lens. I guess since beauty is immutably subjective, there is no such thing as a beautiful flower or a beautiful poem.

That's fine. Stick to your science and gadgets. Stick to your distractions and fears. Don't read fiction more deeply than the words on the page. The answer is simple. No, androids don't dream of electric sheep. No, robots aren't capable of growing beyond the rules you establish for them. No, consumerism is the only way for people to survive in a technological world.

I just hope for the best for you

[heartyluv]

Note: Please —Click Here— to read part one if you’d like! I’m finally getting around to giving them a second part, omg. I hope I did it justice. Enjoy, my beautiful baes!

Warning: A woman picks a fight with you over Caleb (she’s not a real threat, dw), you get really possessive over him, car sex, use of ‘angel’ for a nickname

Word Count: 4K

Summary: A night out quickly takes a different turn.

Cowboy!Caleb/PossessiveReader

“C’mon, angel. You got it. Push your thighs in tighter,” Caleb instructs you. “Harder. Good, like that, like I taught you.”

You bite your lip, uncertainty coiling through you as you feel the back and forth motion in your hips. You’ve been at this for what is definitely far too long, but with Caleb, you didn’t mind the time it took. Choosing not to be patient wouldn’t get you anywhere, not when you wanted to succeed so badly.

“I—I’m gonna fall again!” you squeak, your nerves calming just barely when he holds you by your hip, silently reassuring you as Applebottom begins to strut along the even terrain of the rich green grass.

“She can sense your nervousness. That’s why she’s so ready to throw you off,” he chuckles, remaining beside you before patting on the large horse’s side with three quick loving taps. “Confidence is key, alright? Show her who’s the boss.”

“You’re her boss!” you yelp right before she trots in place, her hooves pounding into the ground unforgivingly with whine-like neighing to follow. The typically sweet animal did this every time she wanted to set her boundaries and make it known that she did not want whoever was on her back.

It was understandable. You’d only wanted Caleb on top of you, too.

It’s been a few days since you’ve been staying with him on his parents’ ranch, simply because you wanted to, you could, and he offered—no, he begged you to come over. With your dad being able to take on farm work again without needing help, you told lied to him about how you’d be staying over at a friend’s house for a much deserved break.

He still doesn’t know that the man he strictly told you to keep out, was in your room the morning they returned. You had to explain to Caleb later why you frantically pulled him from your bed and threw his sweatpants at him like you were a teenager sneaking a boy out.

You were able to get away with it because not only is the guest room thankfully on the second floor, but momma called your phone and said they needed you both to come down and help haul their stuff and the hand-me-down farm clothes Grams surprisingly let them take, upstairs.

That was about a month ago and a complete win in your book, despite the near heart attack at first. And now, after the time it took for you to have this privacy, you’ve been delightfully basking in the presence of your beloved cowboy.

Since Caleb’s workaholic mother and father tended to be so busy with other business ventures, they were often out of town a lot and this week was one of those instances you both were more than willing to take advantage of.

It was safe to say that you two have been going at it like you were making up for lost time. From sex in his room, to the shower, and even with you bent over the kitchen counter that you ended up scrubbing with bleach because you felt awful about it post orgasm, Caleb has had you folded up in too many ways to count.

He even asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you declined.

Yes, he had your heart, he’s had and will continue to have your body, but you needed to make sure this wasn’t some glorified honeymoon phase. Everything was and felt perfect right now because of how excited you two were to have each other entirely without fear, limitations, and uncertainty—well, nearly.

Your dad will come around when you tell him, you’re almost positive.

But, waiting a bit would prove to you if this feeling was something that would stick without the memories and nostalgia you share being the anchor to it all.

Besides, you two still have a lot to learn about one another all over again before you outwardly labeled this beauty of a man as your boyfriend. You weren’t lying when you said you loved him, but love didn’t mean you had to rush. It meant that you had all the time in the world together to figure it out.

Right?

He understood your concerns, even if he wished you would’ve told him yes and let him fuck you in celebration. Granted, he still did, but it was with determination—to show you that there was no such thing as a fluke when it came to how he felt about you.

Besides all the mushy feelings though, it’s been immensely freeing with him. Like he promised the morning after he made love to you for the first time, in the early evenings during your stay, he’s been helping you try to learn how to ride a horse before he took you out to buy you one of your own.

No matter how much you failed, it was the reality that Caleb was your helping hand to make your heart dance in your chest.

You whole heartedly blamed your pops for your inability, but it partially on you, too. He tried to teach you when you were younger, but gave up once he realized how scared you’d always be no matter what horse he put you on or in front of you. Despite how badly he wanted you to conquer, he refused to traumatize his little girl further after all the falls and near accidents.

And Caleb was far too young and inexperienced himself at the time to try, so you simply never got the hang of it. Not even when he took you a few times to ride on Applebottom before you left for college.

You were honestly too embarrassed to try asking for any assistance the older you became and add you leaving on top of that, horse riding just became a skill you accepted that you’d never acquire.

Caleb soothed the beautiful steed, rubbing down her nose and scratched below her chin to ease her defiance.

“You wanna call it a day?” he grinned up at you, the warm setting sun making his dewy skin glow.

“Please.”

“No worries, angel. Scoot back.”

You maneuver yourself on the leather saddle to make room for the burly man, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting against him once he sat and grabbed hold of the reigns before making sure you were ready to go. After your confirmation, with a click of his tongue and a soft “go ‘head girl”, you were riding towards his large home with the slightly humid wind wiping across your dampened skin.

“I’m taking you out tonight,” he said the closer you got.

“For what?”

“Because I want us to have some fun.”

“I think we have a lot of that here, don’t you think?”

He laughs, the sound warming you on the inside. “You’re not lyin’, but I wanna take you dancing. Remember the last time we went?”

You flip through your memories like they’re pages on a book, not having any recollection.

“Exactly,” he fills in your silence. “We weren’t even ten years old and couldn’t catch a beat for shit.”

“Caleb, that does not count!” Now you’re the one laughing, hard enough to make you snort a little bit.

“It definitely does!” Slowing Applebottom down until she completely stops beside the wrap around porch, he jumps down first to then help you. When you’re standing in front of him, he cups your face in his hands and kisses your lips tenderly.

“I’m gonna set her up for the night, we’ll head in, get cleaned up, and I want to be back down in my pickup in an hour. You got that, angel?”

“Yes, sir,” you tease, making him smirk.

“Go on.” He plucks his cowboy hat off his head and hits you playfully on the ass with it on your way up the steps. “Get the shower going for us.”

You and Caleb have been on the dance floor for nearly an hour straight, and you couldn’t get enough. With every twirl and the feeling of his body pressed against you alongside all the other patrons having their own fun, you wished this night could go on forever.

In your floral pink knee length summer dress, his strong hands were on your waist as he moved you side to side to the thumping beat that vibrated the walls and floors of the classical country dance bar that’s been around long before the both of you.

Your sexy cowboy was a sight to drool over in his sage green long sleeve shirt that he had pulled up on his strong forearms to display his tattoos and dark blue jeans that showed off some of his impressive physique.

You were wearing his black Cattleman that he slyly placed atop your head in the middle of you swaying to the music. You helplessly giggled when he kissed down your neck and took you by the hand to spin you around to face him.

His skin was slightly flushed and his soft hair a small whirlwind of a mess, but if you asked Caleb what he was feeling—complete and alive were the only adjectives that could come to mind.

Your arms went around his neck with a bright smile to accompany your eagerness as you sang along to the lyrics of a song your momma still loves to blast on her cleaning days. Caleb flashed you that boyish grin that made you swoon when you grew dramatic in your efforts to match the passion of the talented singer’s voice blasting through the speakers.

Then he started to sing with you and for a moment, there was no care in the world about how crazy you both sounded. This was where you had fun and you wouldn’t let anything prevent you from enjoying it to its fullest potential.

That was your intention until a woman walked up to you both as the upbeat song ended and transitioned to something slower. You couldn’t even get close to him again before an airy voice said behind you, “You finished with her yet, C?”

C? Who the hell is she calling C?

You craned your neck to figure out who was emitting the strong aroma of too-much perfume. A pretty and short, long haired brunette looking up at Caleb with very clear fuck-me eyes, proved to be the answer to the mystery.

Her complete disregard for your presence wasn’t missed, either.

“I know your mother raised you to have some respect, Maycee,” Caleb replied sharply, not bothering to look at her.

“What? I waited ‘til the song was over,” she shrugs, moving closer to him and making this weird primal behavior surge within you when her perfectly manicured fingers tried to rest on his shoulder before he shucked her off.

“That was respectful enough, was it not? I just want to talk with you.” Her judgmental eyes look into yours that’s slowly losing the light it had second ago. “Alone.”

“We’ve got nothin’ to talk about. Coming up to me when I’m with my girl is out of line.”

“Nothing to talk about? Your girl?” she spits out in disbelief. “Seems like you’ve made the wrong choice.”

“Am I invisible?” you interrupt swiftly, the irritation coursing through your body making it impossible to keep your mouth shut any longer. The looks were hard to ignore, but the nosiness of others did nothing to put out the flame stoking in your chest.

You face her head on, ready to defend yourself with zero intimidation at her attempt to size you up.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“The moment you spoke to him made it have every fucking thing to do with me.”

“Aww, let me guess: you think you’re special?” she scoffs with a mocking grin. “Tell her about our time together Caleb, since it’s so necessary that she stays clued in.”

Your body tenses as your jaw ticks. The noticeable reaction makes her smile as if she’s triumphant.

“I’d really rather not embarrass you or ourselves more than you’ve already done yourself, Maycee,” Caleb says through gritted teeth. “That’s not what I want or what I do, but you have a tendency of pushing your fucking luck. You’ve done enough. I suggest you know when to walk away.”

You were hard to rile up—very hard. But Caleb was one of the few people who knew how you could get if that’s where you were brought. It’s one of the reasons he’s trying to deescalate the situation as quickly as possible.

“You’re such an asshole. Her over me—seriously?” She sucks her teeth. “Call me when you come back to your senses. My mouth really misses you.”

Your eyes narrow and you check her before Caleb can try. Your tone drops to make sure that even with the quietness that’s suffocating the already stuffy space, only she can hear you clearly.

“Know that my name was tattooed on his chest while his dick was in your mouth.” You get in her face now, feeling a strong hand on your arm to hold you back.

“I want you to make sure you sit with the fact that every time he got hard, it’s because he thought of me. Even when he was inside of you.”

Maycee’s chest rises and falls, the clear shock and disbelief swirling in her irises.

“Baby, let’s just go,” Caleb calls to you, his grip pressing a little harder to make sure you’re aware that he’s trying to keep you calm.

It’s ridiculous how easily your night has been ruined, and now all the fun is washed out your veins.

Not another word is spoken when you take off his hat and press it roughly to his chest, not caring if he doesn’t catch it. You snatch yourself away from him before you storm out the bar and into the now cool night.

Your anger is misplaced, you know that. But it’s feels impossible to correct with the way it was encompassing your entire being.

Caleb doesn’t waste a moment following you, quickly unlocking his vehicle and opening the door to let you climb inside. Once behind the wheel, he maneuvers the tires over the gravel parking lot before rolling onto the smooth roads, and god is the drive uncomfortable.

“You wanna talk now?” he voices ten minutes in, sighing at your refusal to answer—again.

You told yourself you weren’t jealous of his past, that you didn’t care. And truly, you didn’t.

But the mere thought of Maycee with Caleb in any way, made your blood boil. The way she walked up to him like she was so familiar fueled you with violence.

He was yours, he belongs to you.

“Pull over,” you mumble, making his eyebrow furrow.

“I’m not letting you walk if that’s what you think you’re about to do. I don’t care—”

“Pull. Over,” you repeat slowly.

He does. What other choice does he have when the woman he loves looks ready to set fire to anything in her path that dared to give her a reason?

There’s nothing but long empty rode in front and behind you in the dark night of chirping crickets and twinkling fireflies as he puts the car in park to the side. Caleb looks over at you, the moonlight and rows of illuminated warm street lamps pouring through the windshield giving him the privilege to set eyes on his lady.

“Angel, you know she doesn’t mean anythin’ to me. I know you know.”

“I do.” You turn your body to face him.

“We only hooked up twice, pretty. I don’t want you being upset with me. Tell me what you need me—” Your hand reaching over the center console and the tug on his belt makes his words slow.

“I want you,” you breathe out, your voice shaky and the need to have him overriding anything sensible. “I want you to fuck me, Caleb. I want to erase her from you—erase all of them.”

Pretty,” he coos apologetically. “You’ve already done that. But anything you want. Just let me take us home.”

“No,” you shake your head stubbornly. “Now. I want it now.”

“Fuck…” His cock comes to life at your possessiveness.

He leans in to kiss you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he swallows your whimpers and identifies your cravings without more needing to be said. You stay like that for a moment, letting him savor your taste.

When he releases you, he gets out the truck so that he can slide into the black leather seat in the back. The moment he shuts the door and sits, waiting with his legs spread wide, you’re kicking off your shoes and climbing toward him like he’s your reclamation.

The lack of sufficient space isn’t enough to stop you from sitting in his lap and pulling on his hair, grinding your panty clad pussy against the rough material of his jeans. He sucks on your neck, the sweet and tangy taste on your skin only making his balls tighten with need.

You have to see your name that marks him, that gives you ownership of him. Impatiently, you pull the hem of his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the side and tracing your fingertips along the mesmerizing ink.

“I’m yours, angel,” he whispers, his hands gripping your hips hungrily.

“Show me,” you beg. You feel down his pecs and toned abs before quickly beginning to undo his belt. The clinks echo in the enclosed space at the same time that he bunches your dress above your waist.

Wrapping your hand around his thickness and pulling him out of his confines, you pump him agonizingly slow in your palm.

“You told me this was my cock,” you say against lips, your heart hammering so fast that you’re not too sure how coherent you sound. “You said both of you were devoted to me.”

Your mouths graze, but never meet. “Give me what’s mine…”

Caleb curses under his breath when you swipe a thumb along his slit and smear his precum around, his hips bucking up with eagerness. “I’ll listen to your every w—word. Sit up on your knees, baby…Let me make it better.”

Bracing one hand on him, you follow his instruction and push out a desperate huff when he roughly tugs your panties to the side after you lift yourself.

You didn’t want a condom. In fact, you’d lose your shit if he even offered one. That’s all you’ve been using since your first time together and right now, you just wanted to feel him without any barriers.

When his bare tip slides into your leaking hole, you press your lips together with a pleased hum.

“They can never have you again,” you cry as he helps lower you down to take every pulsating veiny inch. “Hngh—Yes…I miss you like this…”

“N—Never,” he solidifies through a raspy groan, his dick twitching inside your hot and slick walls when you squeeze him.

“You hear how we sound together?” You get closer as you make your hips rise and steadily fall, the squelching of your connection filling your ears. “Only we could make music so powerful.”

The truck begins to shake the harder you go, your palms pressing against the cushioning behind him so your nails had something to scratch when he fucks into you, knocking the breath out of your pliable body.

His fingers dig in your flesh through your dress, surely bruising you, but you need him to. You need that tinge of pain as a reminder that neither of you are never going anywhere because you’ve already made your mark.

“You—hah—you feel so fucking good, Caleb…” The effortless gliding in your pussy makes white dots spot in your vision and your nipples ache beneath the meddlesome fabric.

“We’ve always been in tune.” He shakily reaches over and grabs his Cattleman, placing it on your disarrayed strands and running his thumb across your lip before his large hand caresses down your neck before grasping one of your breasts over your dress. Your lack of a bra lets him flick a nipple, making a strained whimper fall from your puffy lips.

“Don’t ever take it off again. I’m your cowboy, pretty. Own that.” He loses his train of thought for a moment, being buried so snuggly in your heat.

“Ah, fuck…fuck…M—Make me feel it…”

You nod, leaning further back against the console so the outside streetlights could shine upon where you’re connected. Your lover looks down to watch your cunt greedily spread the sticky fluids up and down his cock with unabashed desire.

“Y—you’re not C…” you mewl tiredly, rotating your hips to grind against him. “You’re my Caleb…Just mine…”

The new motion sends shivers down his spine. “You’re right…That’ll never change. It never has…”

The interior grows foggy and humid, sweat beading down your back and his temples the faster your orgasm approaches. You use your muscles to tighten your cunt around his throbbing length, and each contraction makes him feel more precum spurt out in preparation to claim you from the inside.

“That’sss right…oh, baby, keep going… just like that…W—Wanna fill you up so badly…” He pulls your panties over more to gain complete access, his thumb lazily circling your taunt bundle of nerves and sending shockwaves through you.

“Make you so fuckin’ full of me, pretty—I know you want it.”

He sucks air in through his teeth when your peak hits you so hard and unexpectedly that it has you trying to crawl away from him at the simultaneous moment that his cum rushes inside your shuddering walls.

Your moans are on the precipice of pornographic, but for him, it’s the embodiment of sublimity.

You serenade him with your gentle sounds and wavering tone, letting yourself succumb to the deliriousness like you’ve done many times now. Caleb holds you down to make sure you’re filled to the brim, rubbing along your trembling inner thighs. He keeps you spread open so he can watch how the copious amount of cum has no choice but to spill out of your hole and down cock before reaching his balls and staining his clothes.

“‘M so sorry for what happened,” he speaks softly after giving you the space to catch your breath.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumble, holding his hat so that it’ll stay on your head as you sit up before taking it off. Fear consumes him for a brief moment when you place it on his.

“Remember when I told you no?” Your head tilts, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek to nestle into. “About being your girlfriend?”

“I do.”

“Tonight has shown me that…I think I’m in wayyy too deep to be trying to play it safe.”

He smiles. “A mutual sentiment.”

“Will you do me the honor,” you flash a genuine one as well, adjusting the crooked hat and brushing his hair away from his eyebrows. “and let me be your one and only cowgirl?”

“You never even have to ask, angel. C’mere.”

After you share yet another kiss, he presses a sweeter one to the tip your nose.

“Your dad is going to whoop my ass.”

You laugh, the vibrations making you remember that Caleb is still inside of you.

“He’ll be okay. Momma will hold him back.”

“Thanks, baby,” he rolls his eyes with playful sarcasm. “That means a lot.”

“Whatever he does, I’ll be there to kiss it better.”

“Yeah?” he smirks.

“Mhmmm.”

You don’t know what you were even going to try and say or do next because any and all calmness and sentimentally is gone when you see red and blue light flash along with two curt blares of a police siren.

“Shit!” you panic, flicking Caleb’s forehead when he starts to muffle his laugh.

“Ow!” he whisper shouts.

“Move your ass!”

“I can’t until you do!”

Then a knock at the driver’s window sounds. You would forever be in debt to tinted windows now.

“Play dead,” you suggest lowly.

“You’re a terrible problem solver.”

“Well, I’m not seeing you come up with any bright ideas!”

When what you know is the final polite knock sounds with four hits instead of the initial two, Caleb closes his eyes and lays his head back, the hat falling over his eyes and forehead.

“You’re right,” he says, his words muffled. “Play dead.”

“You’re all worried about my dad when me and this police officer is getting ready to kick your ass.”

“Can’t. I’m already dead.”

“Caleb!”

“Mr. Xia?” calls a male voice.

“Who the hell..?”

“Oh,” he huffs in relief. “It’s just Xavier.”

“From high school!?” you ask, completely stunned.

He nods. “He moved back a year after you left. Nothing to worry about. We’re cool.”

“You’re shirtless and still in me!”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t be embarrassed.”

You pluck his forehead once more. “I can’t stand you!”

He rubs his forehead, then pulls you into him. “I’m in love with you too, angel. But flick me again and I’ll fuck you again with him right outside.”

“Just do something!” you pout, your face getting heated at the thought.

Glad to have made you flustered, he smiles. “Anything for you.”

A/N: I felt like creating a scenario like this felt kinda realistic for them because I definitely believe people would fight over a man like Caleb—especially if he sexes you as good as he looks LOLLLL!!!! I didn’t think it would’ve just been sunshine and rainbows initially in a small town where Caleb has been around the block…I could’ve just done a big time skip to their happily ever after, but where’s the fun in that?!?! But I think I’ve unintentionally started another series, DAMNIT! JAYLA, PLS PUT THE PHONE DOWN!!!!

🍎 Tags: @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @caien @stargirlygirl @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @meadowinthesky @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc

♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat

Creds to @/saradika, @/saradika-graphics, and @/bbyg4rlhelps for the dividers!

[bouquetface]

PAC: DETAILED FS

Remember not every reading you come across is for you. Take it as entertainment.

These are VERY detailed. Possibly only 1 person will truly resonate with each pile.

If you don’t feel connected, don’t force it.

All 3 photos are intentionally kinda unclear & out of place. Don’t choose the photo you think looks the best. Choose the one which truly calls to you.

1: Unconditional & Understood

Meeting

Honestly, it’s kinda forgettable. You’ll be attracted to them but you aren’t the type to make a move on a stranger. And neither is this person.

🩵 Nature Setting - You might be outside when you’re meeting. It could be an outdoor event. There is a sense of a fresh start which could be the relationship but also possibly the theme of the envionrment - example: Orientarion week, celebration - outdoor bbq, outdoor wedding, outdoor birthday, etc. You may be doing something for the first time when you meet too.

🪞 Your person is not a loud or super outgoing person. Confident in a calm way. Your initial meeting may be brief, casual and pleasant. Small talk, some nervousness more-so from the feminine. Tone is clear and direct.

It won’t feel like anyone is making a “move.” You’re simply talking and enjoying yourself. You will immediately realize you have mutual interests and at least one mutual friend who indirectly brings you together.

You will be brought together many more times. Possibly, you share the same class/course for a semester. Possibly, you regularly have to come to one another’s workplaces. Possibly, you end up in the same friend group or at least attending many more events of mutual friends.

Each time, you build up more rapport. Until, eventually, one of you gets the other’s contact information. Trust and genuine friendship will be built before you even make it official.

This person softens you. If you’re not a romantic, this person will turn you into one. People will notice you seem giddy and happier.

Like one day, they could be like “You changed your hair, I like it” And you’ll be wearing the biggest smile all day.

Appearance

This is the exact opposite of what I was getting for pile 3.

This person’s style is “clean” - classic & calm. They aren’t leaning into any specific style like goth, boho, prep, etc. No trends for them. Simply, they look “clean” - like you just know they prolly smell good.

Natural colours: White, brown, grey, deep greens, black. They look put together.

They care about their appearance - not necessarily because they care about fashion. For them, it’s about respect - self-respect - like this pile’s person is the least likely to just go out in public in their PJs.

They lean toward minimalism. But they may have 1 or 2 high-end pieces like a watch or ring. It’s likely grown to have sentimental meaning for them.

Regardless of gender, they keep their hair well-styled and on the shorter side.

This is the type of person that if they have a tattoo, it’s somewhere where it can be hidden if need be - ex: arm, chest, leg.

Personality - Good & Bad

The Good:

Their actions are deliberate. They think before they speak. Extremely unlikely to act impulsively.

They hold themselves to a higher standard. They are practical and grounded. If they have higher beliefs, it’s in a traditional sense like religion - not spirituality.

Extremely stable and dependable. They will expect the same in return. This is the type of guy, you call and say you got a flat tire. They’re outside or they’ve sent someone outside to fix it as soon as they get the message.

Maybe you’ve had bad exes or simply this person is amazing But either way your parents are kinda blown away by them. Polite, stable, productive. No offence but it might be like “YOU want OUR kid?”

They will encourage your independence and goals. They’ll take a lot of pride in you. When you reach a goal, they’re genuinely excited for you. For example: Let’s say your goal is to become a teacher, when you finish your exams and all, they’ll proudly brag “my girl’s a teacher.”

They seem to have a stable and routined lifestyle. They have a steady income. They have a stable career that allows growth. They may work in the trades.

The Bad:

This person may find it hard to let loose and let their guard down. They may strongly dislike grand public displays of any emotions. If you want PDA, it’s probably not going to happen.

They don’t yell or cuss when they’re upset, they tend to withdraw. They emotionally shut down. It weighs on them but they endure it quietly in silence. This can make it difficult to understand exactly what upset them. You kinda have to apply pressure to get them to open up.

The above may come from past experiences of expressing themselves but having it thrown in their face later. They dislike vulnerability but they do understand love requires them to open up. Thus, they move slowly and with caution.

This person is indepdent and stable. This seems learned through difficult childhood experiences. Sometimes having an unstable or neglectful parent makes a person act out. But for them, their parental relationship made them very independent.

One parent likely the father, wasn’t always emotionally involved in their upbringing. The extent of this will vary from reader. Parent could be entirely absent or a parent could be emotionally closed-off possibly after a divorce.

As a result, they strongly desire that warm and traditional family dynamic. They want Christmas traditions, family vacations, children to love and teach & someone who will truly stand by them until death do them both a part.

It’s a slow love though. But it never leaves and consistently grows. Depending on your own personality and current stage of life, you may read this and be kinda bored by it. This person isn’t toxic, they don’t play mind games, they don’t have any respect or time for that.

Honestly, there aren’t many negatives to this person. Other than, them sometimes withdrawing when they’re overwhelmed or feeling burned out.

2: Sweet Chaos

Meeting:

This is chaotic in a fun way. You may spontaneously be coming to this location.

🕺 The meeting environment encourages fun. This could be a party, concert, club or a celebration. You come here looking your best. You get more than just your future spouse’s attention.

🪩 You may be out somewhere new. You may be on a trip. You may be unfamiliar with environment or some of the people around. Like going with a friend to their cousin’s grad party or smth.

The first conversation is flirty and friendly. They may make an outrageous joke or seem too cute to you. Your heart will flutter. You’ll be excited and laughing. But something will cause hesitancy.

They likely aren’t your usual type. You probably don’t meet lovers like this. It feels foreign. The person may be younger too. You’ll be thinking this isn’t how I imagined by future spouse. But not in a bad way because you’re still in attracted and giddy.

Appearance

They’re youthful. They got boyish charms. Regardless of gender, they have tousled, kinda short, curly hair. Most likely brown hair.

They may resemble a 90s heartthrob - maybe they share the same haircut. There is some nostalgia attached to their appearance. I don’t want to be weird but it does happen so like maybe they look like a younger version of your parents lmao it’s a possibility!

Likely have dimples. Likely smile a lot especially when they’re around you.

Mischievous looks. They do have a style but it’s hard to pinpoint. They may thrift clothes, they may like to wear clothes with meaning - merch from musicians and bands they like.

They likely have a lot of tattoos that have grown to have meaning. Like they got it just for fun but now it’s something special to them. They’re adventurous, they like to explore/experience & find meaning in it later.

Personality - good & bad:

Good:

Imaginative and creative. You’ll like a lot of the same art. You’ll enjoy going into deep dives about your interpretations. You’ll go deep into hypothetical situations - even if it starts out a joke. You guys would take a “would u rather” question so seriously, it would become a debate.

Emotionally open. Out of all the piles, this person is the most healthy in their emotional expression. They really aren’t closed-off or moody. They’re honest and open.

Regardless of gender, they don’t feel like hiding the fact they have emotions. No toxic masculinity. Like if you’re watching a movie, and you tell them, “I used to cry at the end scene.” They’d probably be like, “I still do.”

They’re romantic but not in the traditional sense of flowers and chocolates - although, they may do that from time to time. Their style is more like ~ showing up for a late night drive because they need to hear your rant, reading it over text isn’t enough.

They’ll truly just love you so much too. You guys just get one another. There is no forcing or having to wait for one another to be ready to open up.

You guys are on the same pacing and just go by your own rules. Nothings feels rushed, nothing feels slow. You do things when you two feel ready to do them.

They’re good at a lot of things. Probably tried a lot of jobs in their life and may have multiple sources of income. Ex: Bartender, Barista, Teacher - something social. And some freelance work is likely, something they do on their own & they’re in charge - freelance photography, videographer, graphic design, youtube.

Bad:

They may come off immature at times. For example: They may joke around too much. You may feel like not everything needs to be made into a joke.

They are a sociable person. They’re well liked too. This could create some jealously. They definitely have both guy and girl friends. But this def seems the type of dude to want to bring you everywhere with them. They would never intentionally make you jealous. They’d hate to know they were doing something that made you feel insecure or small.

If you’re desiring a provider, this isn’t it. This person will do their best to make you happy. They’ll gift you things, they’ll randomly show up with your favorite frappuccino but they aren’t gonna take on the “man of the house” or “sole provider” role.

They’re forgetful. They can forget to text back. They may forget the details of something you said. They may forget you two agreed to get breakfast and sleep in. It’ll be annoying.

3: Us vs The World

Meeting

You may meet under secret or taboo circumstances. For example:

✉️ DMs/Online - Meeting is occurring in private.

❤️‍🔥 “Forbidden” connection - You may meet in an environment that doesn’t necessarily encourage romance such as at work or amongst friends - like a friend’s ex’s friend or an ex’s friend or smth similar that adds an element of “taboo.”

Whether this is normal for you or not, you will move quickly & somewhat recklessly with this person. Potential examples: Quick to get intimate, quick to meet the parents, quick to move-in together and/or quick to propose/accept proposal and marry.

Your lifestyle will change. The relationship is transformative - a welcomed death & rebirth. Suddenly and unconsciously, you will adapt to your person. Your style may change. Your music taste may evolve. Your vocabulary and humour may change.

The Relationship Reaction:

[Not every pile is getting this section but this comes ups strongly in your pile.]

You likely receive negative judgement when people find out about this relationship. The pace of the relationship and the seemingly sudden changes in you will be noticed.

Most of it is just haters faking concern and wanting something new to gossip about. But for some readers, this will be sincere concern from genuine people in your life.

For someone specific, this will be an elder feminine, most likely your mother. She may feel you are too obsessed with person. She may try to restrict you in some ways.

- EXAMPLE: If you live with her, she may forbid you from going out late at night with person. She may tell you that you spend too much time with this person, she may try to get you to stay home.

If you don’t live with her at this time, when she finds out she may bicker and question you about this relationship a lot.

For some readers, your person’s reputation may have friends making negative assumptions - to your face or they think negatively about it but mostly keep their opinions to themselves.

Intuitively, I feel most of this judgement comes from people having closed-off views. Rather than your person actually having a “bad” reputation. For example: If your person smokes weed, this may cause people to make negative assumptions about them. [This example isn’t to say your person 100% does smoke weed, just an example for something that can get associated with “bad” things.]

This won’t be their first time feeling harshly & unfairly judged. They’ve likely been through some shit like this before. They may have placements like - Lilith in 1st H, Mars in 1st H, Venus conjunct Mars.

Appearance:

Lanky & thin. Prominent eyes & hands - example: intense eyes, sleepy/tired eyes, hand tattoo, wears rings, visible hand veins.

Religious imagery, daggers, animals specifically snakes - Could appear as tattoos or in jewellery designs.

Curly hair - May sometimes be perceived as “messy”. Regardless of gender, they keep their hair a bit longer than whats considered “normal.”

Their appearance may be apart of the reason people jump to conclusions about them. They may come off as intimidating or messy.

For some, they don’t care about style and fashion, thus, they wear what’s comfortable like sweats, baggy clothes, band tees, basic streetwear.

For others, their style is a mix of a darker aesthetics + intentionally appearing “rough” - kinda like homeless/heroin chic but make it expensive. It’s kinda hard to explain but I hope you know what I mean - Brands that commonly display this style: Balenciaga, Rick Owens, Saint Laurent.

Regardless of gender, they definitely like to add a flashy accessory to their mostly black fits. They got a good eye for jewellery - example: watches, necklaces, chains, rings & possibly piercings.

You can definitely expect to be gifted jewellery quite frequently tbh. Eventually, you likely share or are given a piece they wear regularly.

Personality - the good & the bad:

[I can’t divide the good & bad for your person. The good is tied to their bad and vice versa.]

They will be successful. They will earn a position of status and leadership/authority. They make a good leader. However, this is tied to their need for control.They could never work under someone for too long.

Out of all the piles, this is the pile who clearly gets a partner that is a provider. They will truly enjoy taking care of you. But, this is attached to their possessiveness and desire for control. It makes them feel powerful knowing you’re kinda becoming dependent on them.

They will defend and protect you. If someone or something was causing you stress, they’d take care of it for you. They see your problems as their problems & they expect the same in return.

Their confidence can steer towards being egotistical. They may rarely directly apologize. They don’t like acknowledging what they did to upset you. But they will desire to fix it/make up for it.

For example: After an argument where it is become clear they’re wrong and have hurt you. They may just show up the next day with gifts. If you called them out on thinking gifts can erase their wrongdoings. They’d joke it off by saying something like “Don’t act like you’re not gonna wear it anyway.”

They can def be charming and funny when they’re in a good mood. Yet, there is something about them that can be perceived as intimidating - might be for a good or bad reason. The reasons vary for the reader - potential examples: Might work in Law enforcement, might be their appearance & maybe depending on where you’re located they have a gun.

Initially, it is there boldness and mystery that lures you in. There is consistently a lustful undercurrent too. You’ll be intensely attracted to one another even when fighting - angry sex, makeup sex.

Despite being together for years and becoming the closest to one another, you’ll always feel there is some mystery to them. Something about them seems unreachable.

There is a part of their mind and soul that is unreachable. They can be a bit eccentric.

For some readers, I heavily feel this person has found success as an artist in their career. It seems super unrealistic to say but it comes up very strongly so I’m adding it anyways.

This person is a creative and a creator - as a hobby or as career. This can come up in various ways though, it doesn’t have to be traditional “fame” - for example: Maybe they design and sell something like a Jeweller or Carpenter. Maybe they’ve produced music.

You may have a sidereal Libra Mars or tropical Scorpio Mars.

You’ll be a muse to them. You spark creation - potential manifestations of this… Designing/customizing jewellery for you. Receiving a meaningful hand-made gift. Being sent playlists about you.

There will be rocky moments in your relationship. However, one thing that is clear - this person will not walk away from you. If you were to ever divorce, it would be something you push for. They would try very hard to keep you and make the divorce process extremely difficult. It may be a religious or cultural thing that motivates this part of them.

You may have a Saturn DK. This is also similar to a previous pac I wrote - maybe you previously chose that pile too.

[modanisgf]

— RUN FOR THE HILLS , HANNI PHAM

"NEVER GONNA EVER BE MORE THAN JUST SOMETHING THAT'S FUCKING ME UP."

in which your classmate and rival hanni hates your guts, the feeling being mutual up until she truly got to know you. now, she couldn't get enough of her pretty rival.

☆ PAIRING(S) : top student!hanni x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S) : brief touches on parental issues, profanity, mentions of drinking/alcohol, uhhh rushed ending im #tired

☆ GENRE(S) : enemies to lovers, academic rivals, wuh luh wuh, taller reader i fear.., highschool au

header by @uzmacchiato!

hanni groaned at the smirk y/n wore in front of her, the way she looked down at her making her even more annoyed.

“thought you were good at science pham?”y/n says, crossing her arms against her chest.

the taller girl had to suppress her laughter when she saw the way hanni reacted. it looked like her head was going to fall off at any moment now the anger getting to her.

“you do know it’s a five point difference?” hanni responds. the girl began to pack her stuff up in order to get away from y/n as fast as possible.

“mm, still a difference though yeah?” y/n teases, giggling at the way hanni shoved her lightly in annoyance.

“keep talking when we get our calc test scores tomorrow.” hanni says, looking up at y/n.

“we’ll see how big the difference is then.” she says, walking away leaving her rival to roll her eyes.

for as long as y/n has been in highschool, hanni pham had been her enemy. realistically there was no insane bad blood. but since the two had always been the top students, tensions rose and neither of them had spoken to each other normally. it was always a fight.

y/n’s favorite thing to do was keep a condescending and sarcastic tone with hanni, always commenting on anything she could that had to with her. the angry look in her eyes making y/n’s day each time.

y/n’s friends (specifically jongseob and haewon) thought she was insane for this, but in her defense the hatred was mutual. hanni had started it actually, the day they had met and it never failed to leave y/n’s mind.

it was the first day of freshman year, hanni was sat next to y/n in their first class of the day so y/n decided to spark up conversation.

she greeted her and it went well all up until the class got their first assessment. y/n would like to think you were friends for that first week— but she knew that wasn’t true. hanni would give you blank stares in the hallways whenever y/n waved at her, it was almost as if she was ashamed of her.

the first assessment was nothing but a competition for y/n and hanni, the shorter girl hearing of your top student status at your old school. she wanted to make sure that she was above you.

much to y/n’s demise, hanni ended up getting a perfect score while on the other hand y/n only got a ninety-five. hanni made it her mission to make sure y/n knew she did better, the girl's voice haunting y/n as the days went on.

“thought you were a top student.”

“maybe you should read the book more.”

“do you even study at all?”

hanni’s words stuck with y/n. that’s when she knew she wanted revenge, already making a plan. y/n told this plan to jongseob and haewon at lunch that day, "i'm canceling every hangout i have until the next algebra test."

"what?" haewon says, she was so confused.

"i have to study and get a perfect score to beat hanni, she beat me in the first one." y/n states without a second thought, taking a bite of her sandwich like it was nothing.

"are you insane? you're gonna isolate yourself to do math..?" jongseob says in disgust.

"top students don't have time for nonsense,” y/n replies, shrugging. it was something her mom had said to her, and looking back on it now she felt stupid. but young y/n would always listen to her.

it didn’t matter whether or not she pressured y/n or gave her a hard time over something as small as your grade going down in one class, fifteen year old y/n genuinely believed that woman could never do any wrong. that’s what made her feel so drawn to beating hanni, she wanted to make her mom proud.

the next week or so y/n was dedicated to studying for her algebra test, every piece of homework they had getting completed in no time. she had grasped the standard so quickly that even her teacher was surprised. hanni caught light of this quick, and she was furious.

“y/n’s been studying hard.” hanni says randomly one day, during her spanish class.

minji looked unamused at hanni’s comment, just ignoring her and going back to her work.

“hanni.. what even is your problem with that girl?” danielle mumbles, “you seemed obsessed.”

“obsessed?” hanni replies, looking at danielle like she was insane.

“i’m not obsessed with y/n. i just don’t wanna fall behind her.” hanni mutters, obviously annoyed at dani’s comment.

the topic of y/n was never brought up again their group until test day, hanni nervously rushing through her notes before the test. she couldn’t fall behind y/n, she needed to keep her top student status. meanwhile y/n was next to hanni, relaxing before the test. unfortunately for the both of them they always got sat next to each other. hanni looked up from her notes for a moment, noticing y/n’s chill demeanor.

“what are you doing?” hanni asks hesitantly, she never liked to talk to y/n but her curiosity got the best of her.

“i’ve been studying the unit endlessly since we started, no need for me to cram now.” y/n shrugs.

hanni didn’t even reply and just focused back on her notes, she tried not to get too into her head about y/n, but it was hard not to think about how prepared her opponent was.

the test in hanni’s opinion was easy so far, but she didn’t know one of the questions. and it was extremely hard to focus when her table mate was flying through the test, acting like it was a breeze. hanni gritted her teeth in annoyance, trying so hard to focus back on her own test but it was almost impossible. when she looked up at the clock and saw she only had five minutes left, her heart dropped. y/n grinned from beside her, putting her pencil down and waiting for the test to end. she knew she would beat hanni this time, starting a rivalry. the test ended and hanni had finished just in time, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to beat y/n.

the test scores came back and hanni was right, she had only gotten an eighty-five whilst y/n got a one hundred. hanni’s blood boiled at her score, growing even more furious at the sound of y/n’s voice.

“nice try, hanni. maybe you’ll get it next time.” y/n says, in a condescending tone.

hanni ignored y/n and just got up, asking to go to the bathroom and grabbing the pass.

in all honesty y/n felt a little bad for the girl, especially if her situation was anything similar to hers. but it was all just fun and games right?

that’s when hell started, jongseob liked to call it. when y/n and hanni would go at each other and do stupid stuff just to one up each other, it wasn’t enjoyable for anyone. even them, neither wanted it but it felt odd not to be at each other's necks all the time. and by senior year y/n had grown tired of it, making her urge to graduate stronger. she wanted to be done with this rivalry and fast.

but as y/n’s senior year approaches the end of first semester, she somehow started seeing hanni in a different light. their rivalry was less intense in their later years of school, and this year y/n finally got to get a good look at hanni. and if she was being honest with herself— hanni was exactly her type. the girl was gorgeous even y/n said it herself sometimes, and with her friends hanni was seemingly such a nice girl. sometimes y/n wondered if they didn’t hate each other where’d they be, but she knew they most likely wouldn’t be friends. it would make sense in almost every universe they would clash.

y/n getting to really see hanni in a different perspective had her thinking about hanni almost every second of the day. when she was in class, when she was doing chores, even sometimes before she slept at night she thought about her relationship with hanni. y/n wanted to deny it but she was attracted to that hanni, not the one she knew but the one everyone else got to know. that’s what changed everything, y/n stopped putting so much effort into becoming the top student.

hanni noticed this slowly over time, her ‘rival’ stopping their daily arguments, and getting average scores on tests. (average being 90..) hanni hated to admit it but she missed fighting with y/n, it gave her a chance to talk to her. and truthfully, hanni had withheld a secret from everyone except her close friends for years. what she really thought about y/n.

one day during junior year, hanni was a little wasted and admitted something she planned to take to her grave to her friends at a party (the only one they could drag her to). they were all sitting on a couch, trying to enjoy a laidback period of the semester before finals.

hanni couldn’t keep y/n out of her mind after being able to stare at her. she was beautiful, and all of her features were so perfect. hanni always knew that generally y/n was a nice person, but seeing it in real time always got to her. y/n was gentle and kind with others, always looking out for her friends. hanni was told y/n was doing an internship at their local elementary school since she wanted to be a teacher. y/n was everything hanni would want in a girl, if only she didn’t hate her guts.

“guys i think i like y/n.” hanni muttered, staring off into space as her friends immediately all turned to her.

“what? ‘like’ as in romantically?” minji asks, to which hanni nods.

“she’s pretty, i wish we didn’t hate each other.” hanni says, her friends all in shock.

“why don’t you actually get to know her?” haerin asks.

“i know it’ll never work.”

—

eventually y/n came to terms with her not so secret crush on hanni (only hanni didn’t know), and started sparking up more conversation with the girl. it was more tame conversation, but the competitive spark was still there. hanni would make fun of y/n for relaxing and doing the bare minimum but it felt more lighthearted than before. everyone around them couldn’t believe it, they were actually slowly becoming friends after all this time.

it started off with small things like hanni packing up y/n's things for her when she was busy in class.

"thank you." y/n would mumble hesitantly to hanni.

“of course.” hanni would mutter back, it wasn’t anything crazy but it was progress.

the small moments turned into bigger moments, longer conversations and an exchanging of numbers. and y/n felt conflicted.

"it's just feels so weird." she says to haewon on the phone one night, the girl on the other end agreeing.

"it's gonna take time to adjust y/n, but i'm glad you two are finally getting along." haewon replies.

"yeah i am too, i just hope nothing goes wrong.” y/n says, sighing as she got up from her seat.

“anyways i have to go haewon, i’ll talk to you tomorrow.” y/n states.

“okay goodnight y/n.”

“goodnight!”

—

it was only a matter of time before winter break was approaching rapidly, so to celebrate before finals haewon threw a party. being pretty known throughout school as the senior class president, there was a good amount of people there which made y/n nervous. and she couldn’t get this specific person off her mind— hanni. was she here?

y/n’s heart raced at the thought of her crush being there, they might actually get to hangout outside of a school setting. but y/n tried not to dwell on it too much, refocusing her attention on the girls in front of her. she had met some new people: lara and megan. they were super fun, the two telling y/n about this horrible double date they had just went on.

“yeah we went to skyzone and megan got locked in the car.” lara says, trying not to laugh too hard to not draw attention to the girls.

megan groaned, “do you always have to bring that up..”

“worst part of it all, megan still pursued him after that.” lara says ignoring megan’s comment.

y/n laughed a bit, “a man had you in that much of a chokehold?”

“hey, stop. i was in a bad place.” megan says in her defense.

“fair,” y/n replies.

“so what do you guys plan to do after graduation?” y/n asks, nodding as the girl gave their responses.

though it was hard to focus with y/n feeling like she was being stared at from behind, the feeling irking her. the look felt familiar, being more of a glare than a curious gaze.

'hanni?' y/n thought, she wasn't sure though. she didn't want to be delusional.

"y/n? who's that girl staring at us.. she seems to be focused on you." megan says, obviously disturbed.

y/n turned around, locking eyes with hanni. the latter looking away as soon as y/n looked back. the girls heart dropped to her ass, why was hanni looking at her like that?

“oh that’s just my friend hanni, not exactly sure why she’s looking over here like that..” y/n says, staring at hanni.

was she mad at her again? y/n just chose to ignore it for the time being, turning back to lara and megan. they talked for a bit more about bad date experiences. meanwhile, hanni was about to lose her mind. something about seeing y/n with two pretty girls she didn’t know at a party made her mad. well, maybe mad wasn’t the right word.. maybe more of jealous, but hanni would never admit that.

“stop staring her down.” minji deadpanned, grabbing hanni away and leading her to another room.

“what are you doing?!” hanni whisper yells.

“you need to leave that poor girl alone, you hated each other for years. you can’t seriously expect her to like you back, hanni.” minji says, regretting it once she saw the look on hanni’s face.

hanni was unfortunately an emotional mess lately, and having a bit of beer wasn’t exactly helping.

“but i don’t know how to not feel jealous..” hanni mutters, her voice slowly cracking throughout each word.

“you don’t, unfortunately. but until you’re actually locked in with her, you can’t be stalking her like that. you never know if one of those girls is her girlfriend.” minji replies, holding hanni close to her now to make sure she felt comforted.

“i promise it'll be okay." minji says softly.

—

the next day was like all of y/n and hanni's progress had been erased, hanni ignoring the girl once again. y/n tried to to say hi to her but got absolutely nothing, the taller girl just walked away and sat somewhere else. fortunately for y/n, lara was in their grade so she sat with her.

"what's up with you and your friend?" lara asks, to which y/n shrugs.

"think something happened at the party. i don't know i don't exactly care too much right now, finals are about to kick my ass." y/n says, groaning.

lara laughed at her friends words, "i wouldn't worry too much y'know. we're almost out of here so that's a plus. and if you ever need any help you can call me or megan!"

y/n nods, "thank you, i really appreciate it."

"least i could do," lara starts, "seems like you're going through a lot at the moment."

y/n sighs, "yeah, thank you."

y/n wanted to tell lara more about hanni but she wasn't exactly sure if she should this early on in their friendship. how are you supposed to tell someone you just met that you have a crush on your ex enemy?

'that'll be a story for another time.' y/n thought, grabbing her notebook to take notes.

—

y/n's second to last finals week was a complete mess. things continued to be complicated between her and hanni, and for one of the first times in her life she was struggling with school. y/n couldn't tell you what was wrong with her, but her friends all suggested it was the hanni situation getting into her head. y/n had hung out with megan and lara and the rest of their friends. the three of them ended up watching a movie together after, leading to y/n to tell them about her past with hanni.

"so you're telling me you hated that girl like six months ago, and now you're crushing on her?" lara says, her jaw dropped.

"yeah, i don't really know either. i mean she's really sweet when you actually get to know her, but something happened at that party and now she won't even glance at me." y/n starts, sighing in frustration.

"it's even worse than when we hated each other, at least she would've made fun of me or something.." y/n mutters.

lara and megan shared a look, trying to think of what to do. suddenly it came to them.

"oh my god, what if she's jealous?" megan says, to which y/n looks at her as if she's insane.

"seriously..? what would she even be jealous of? it's too early to speculate i feel like." y/n says, furrowing her brows.

"y/n be so for real, what else could it be. hanni got cold towards you after she saw you talking to me and megan." lara adds.

'maybe they are onto something.' y/n thinks, her confusion growing more by the second.

"i mean even if hanni was jealous, it's definitely not anything to do with her liking me. maybe she's just mad that i'm not competing with her anymore." y/n shrugs, gaining her glares from her two friends in front of her.

"y/n then why would she be friendly with you after you stopped trying to be her rival? she would've been mad then." megan says.

y/n groans, “fine you guys are right, i just— can’t really believe that this is real. i mean we just became friends.”

“you say that like you don’t also like her.. plus she could’ve liked you while you ‘hated’ each other.” lara says, to which megan nods.

“i wouldn’t put it past her, she looked like she wanted to kill me and lara at haewon’s party. chances are this isn’t a new thing.” megan continued, following up lara’s statement.

“so in conclusion, the girl who hated me for hypothetically three years may have a crush on me.” y/n says in disbelief.

"just talk to her," lara responds, to which megan nods.

"ignoring each other will get you two nowhere." megan says.

"but how am i supposed to get her to respond?" y/n says groaning.

hanni was always such a difficult person, and now that she was actually mad at y/n the girl knew there was no talking to her. hanni would find anyway to avoid her.

"just find her alone, text her now and tell her you want to talk and that it's important. if she really likes you, she won't be able to stay mad at you for long." lara advised y/n.

"okay, let's pray this works.." y/n mumbles.

y/n picked up her phone soon after lara gave her the suggestion, her thumb hovering over hanni’s contact for a moment. she took a breath and clicked on it, drafting a quick text message before hitting send.

me: can we talk tmrw? i want to clear things up.

y/n really hoped this would go well.

—

y/n woke up the next day in nervous state, immediately reaching for her phone to see if hanni responded. the girl gasping as she saw hanni had replied to her with a simple, ‘meet me outside school before exams’. y/n quickly opened up her group chat with lara and megan to keep them informed.

me: SHEBROLEID

lara: hello..?

me: SHE REPLIED**

megan: WAIT OMGG we r rooting for u yn

y/n smiled at megan’s message before getting up to get ready for the day. she had a strong feeling about this, and a little part of her hoped hanni actually liked her back.

y/n finally arrived at school, waiting outside for hanni. she'd be lying if she said this wasn't making her unbelievably nervous. (also sort of embarrassing her due to being alone..) y/n felt even more anxious though when she saw hanni in her line of sight, the shorter girl giving her a small smile. y/n felt her cheeks heat up at the sight, she had never seen hanni smile. her smile was beautiful. hanni stopped in front of y/n, one of her hands moving up towards her hair to play with it. y/n noticed that whenever hanni was nervous she would mess with her hair, she knew this from whenever they did presentations.

"y/n i'm really sorry about yesterday, i don't know why i did that to be entirely honest.." hanni mumbles, just loud enough for y/n to hear.

"it's okay hanni, i just wanted clarification about haewon's party. why were you staring at me like that?" y/n asks, she didn't notice the small shift in hanni's facial expression.

hanni was even more anxious than ever, she knew she had to be honest with y/n. there might be a small chance the girl felt the same.

"i was jealous. seeing you with people i've never seen before made me feel weird, i wasn't sure if you were in a relationship with one of them. and i—" hanni paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

"i really like you, i have ever since junior year. i just didn't know how to tell you." hanni says, her nervous expression dropping at the sight of y/n laughing.

"hey why are you laughing?" hanni says, frowning.

"hanni, you thinking that megan or lara may be my girlfriend is crazy. i had just met them that night." y/n says, trying to stop laughing.

hanni just glared at her, "well for one i was drunk, and two i wouldn't be surprised if they were, you're not exactly ugly.

"are you saying i'm pretty hanni?" y/n teases, giggling at the look on hanni's face.

"no, just reply to my confession." hanni deadpans, about to walk away from the girl laughing in front of her.

"i really like you too hanni, and i'm glad we had this conversation." y/n says, maintaining eye contact with hanni.

"sooo?" y/n says, waiting for a response from hanni.

"can i kiss you?" hanni blurts, catching y/n off guard.

y/n pulled hanni close to her, her arms wrapping around hanni's waist.

"wait do you even know how to kiss? i've never seen you get a girlfriend." y/n questioned hanni, trying to hold back her laughter.

hanni punched y/n in the side, "shut up, of course i have. i'll show you how, since you obviously don't."

hanni held y/n's face gently, contradicting her tone with the girl before. she kissed y/n moments after, the kiss being soft and gentle. the feeling of kissing y/n made hanni feel content, wanting to stay in the girls arms forever. after a bit longer in the embrace, the two girls pulled away from the kiss.

“god, maybe you do know how to kiss.” y/n mumbles in awe.

“i told you." hanni says, laughing at y/n's shock.

"maybe you can show me again?"

[forgottenwriter]

Honestly, this is really important. Let me tell you all a little story. This happened many, many, many years ago. Back when I was a little trans baby who didn't even know she was trans yet. I was 16, on the internet, and having a great time. As you did in those far off days, I joined an internet forum - for those of you who don't know what they were, think of it like Twitter back when it was twitter, but also long and also not very much like Twitter!

So anyway, I made a friend and he was a great guy. He was also 16, and the two of us hit it off right away. He was smart and funny, and deeply caring about the world and the people in it.

He was also gay and from the deep south. His parents were less than supportive, but he seemed to not let that get him down. We became fast friends, and over the years, grew pretty close. In retrospect, he had a crush on me, but I was always trans even when I didn't admit it to myself, so that was going nowhere. I could never be what he wanted me to be, so I just didn't approach that route.

As the years went on, my friend started to change. He got cynical, angry at the world. It came from a place of hurt and pain; his parents continued to wound him, he felt as though the world was turning against him. he fought as hard as he could, but it seemed as if even his own people were turning on him.

Of course, the thing that I never said - and I should have, but I was young and anxious and didn't want to lose one of my best friends in the world - is that part of why this all was happening was that he'd internalized what his parents had taught him. He thought he was free of it, but like a seed they'd planted in him, it just waited to flower. It fed on his frustration and anger, and offered him an easy solution.

He didn't have to try to understand. He didn't have to try to look at things from other people's point of view. Other people were just wrong. And he was allowed to speak over and demean them because he was right and that was how the world worked.

Some of the stuff he ended up saying was terrible, and I remember thinking at one point ''This is your parents speaking. You've swapped out the word ''gay'' for ''trans'' but it's the same sentence with the same meaning and the same intent. You've embraced them without even knowing it.''

When I last spoke to him, when I ended our friendship once and for all, he'd convinced himself that democracy was a mistake. That education was a mistake, that the majority of people simply did not deserve to be educated and only enlightened rulers - which naturally, would include him and a few other gay people, but with no mention of any other minorities - deserved full rights.

Tl;dr don't assume that just because you're a minority, it means you're free of bias. If you live in toxicity, if you're surrounded by it, it will cling to you. That's what makes it so dangerous. You can carry it for years and decades without ever knowing and at some point, when you're weakest, when you're tired and angry and sad and want someone to blame? That seed will flower and a few years after that, you'll be one of those very same people who make you feel so sick right now.

That's human nature. That's how it works. None of us are perfect beings who can always be sure we're in the right. Check yourself. introspect your thoughts. Above all else, never assume that you're right just because something feels right. Righteous anger is good and satisfying and addictive because we're evolved to find it that way.

But that doesn't mean it works or makes the situation any better.

Don't lose yourself like my friend did. He was miserable in the end, and I don't think he's going to have a fun life in the future either. Support and love each other, stand up for each other. Be the kind of person you wish existed to stand up for you.

Many lgbt teenagers and young adults growing up on the internet today have socially conservative beliefs that they voice at all times that they got from their conservative parents which they’ve never challenged because they think the life experience of being gay or trans makes them politically progressive

[lucenra]

Triggered

𝓟airing ↳ Jinu X F!Reader

𝓘𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 .. reader thinks if she should forgive Jinu.

𝓦arnings .. no warnings !

𝓐uthor's note .. part 1 if u havent read , kinda short 😔

“Well…” you started hesitating. Your voice was barely audible over the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights above. You looked down at the bag of chips in your hand, then back up at him. “You say you’ve changed. But how do I know that? How do I trust anything that comes out of your mouth?”

Jinu stepped closer, careful not to invade your space. “I don’t expect you to trust me right away. Or even believe me. But I just— I need you to know that what I did… it haunts me every single day.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure whether to scoff or cry. “Good. It should.”

He looked down, swallowing hard. “I know I messed up. I threw away something real. I was scared, immature, and stupid. But I’ve been working on myself, Y/N. I swear. Therapy, time off, reflecting— I’ve been trying to become someone better. Someone who deserves to be with you.”

You blinked, heart pounding. Part of you wanted to believe him. Another part wanted to scream.

“You don’t get to come back after a year and expect me to just… what? Forget everything and forgive you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I don’t expect that. I just… I just hoped you’d let me try.”

Silence settled between you like thick fog. You turned away, pretending to scan the drinks fridge.

“I don’t know, Jinu,” you murmured. “You broke something in me. I had to teach myself how to be okay again without you.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I saw it. I saw you doing better. I saw you laughing again. I hated myself for not being the one who made you smile anymore. But I'm proud of you.”

You looked back at him. His eyes weren’t filled with charm or smugness like before. They were soft. Honest. Maybe for the first time in a long time.

You took a deep breath. “This doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you. Or letting you back into my life. But… maybe, just maybe… I’ll let you prove it.

His face lit up, just a little. Not with hope, but with gratitude.

“That’s all I ask,” he said.

You picked up the blue Takis and walked past him toward the register. Before stepping away, you paused and looked over your shoulder.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

But promises were easy. Keeping them was the hard part.

♡

As you made your way back to your place, you immediately broke down. Was that the right decision?

Whatever, it doesn't matter now. You made your choice. Everything happens for a reason, you think to yourself.

You grabbed your phone and searched his contact. Seeing his name and info, you hesitated to press the unblock button.

Fuck it, you unblocked him. Where's the harm in that? Maybe he really had changed.

You sighed and stood up, tossing all your belongings on your couch. You went to the kitchen and just stood there, sighing again, putting your head in your hands. Silent.

A few minutes later your phone started ringing. You rushed back to the couch, hoping it was one of your best friends. No, it was Jinu.

You paused before you answered.

"Hello?" You heard his voice on the other line.

You pursed your lips. "Hey, Jinu." You didn't know those two words made him fold instantly. The way you said his name, he loved it.

You heard him take a deep breath before responding to you. "How are you?" he asked, like you two hadn't just talked 30 minutes ago.

"Jinu, we just saw each other and—"

"I know, I know," he cut you off, "I just wanted to talk to you again, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." You sighed. Silence followed. The only thing you heard was the fan in his room. You started biting your nails— a nervous habit.

Finally, he spoke. "Well, I'm sorry for bothering you. It's late, and you should be sleeping soon. Goodnight, Y/N."

"You didn't bother me, don't worry. But, goodnight Jinu, sleep well." He smiled when he heard you say that.

"I'll text you in the morning, is that okay with you?" He asked,

"... Sure." After that was said, he hung up. You rested your head on your knees, then smiled.

Same for Jinu, he couldn't stop smiling. When he was brushing his teeth, he was cheesing, picking out his pjs, he was cheesing, looking up at the ceiling, he was still cheesing. His cheeks started hurting so much, and he couldn't wait for the morning.

[81pastrys]

Unplanned

Part 3 / 5

Summary— Once married they decide to go about life as if they planned this all and end up in Monaco before the birth of their baby.

Warnings— Sensitive reader..? ; pregnancy ; mood swings ish ; birth mentioned but not explicit ; couples bath

A/N— While re reading through I realized I made Carlos seem a bit more mature for like a stupid young adult but then I realized it’s Carlos and that he’s literally driving a death machine.

Series List

Main Masterlist

It was all happening too fast. The least their parents would settle for was being there when they signed the papers. So both sets of parents planned out to be there to witness the marriage. Nothing big, nothing fancy. Two young adults signing a sheet of paper deeming them married, husband and wife.

“You may kiss the bride.” The officiant said. They kissed, but there was no specialty to it, just a show for their parents.

Carlos set out to buy her a dainty ring— per her request— and picked his own band out. She was ridden with morning sickness and didn’t want to leave her flat while sick. It all seemed surreal.

He left the jewelers and went back to her place, ready for the ring to be rejected. Instead he was met with tears of joy and gratitude that he cared enough to even get her one.

The next race was coming up and she had finished school, so he asked her to join him. She agreed but was hesitant. They had talked and talked about anything and everything, getting to know each other. It seemed almost destined that they ended up in this situation but the circumstances that pulled them together was unfortunate.

So far the only argument was on where to live. “I worked to get this place! I won’t just get rid of it like that to move into your rich boy flat in Monaco!” She yelled.

“Cariño, you aren’t listening to me.” He was trying to hold himself back from yelling but he was close to it. “You don’t have to give it up, I’m saying we stay at my apartment in Monaco.” He explained, again.

“Why can’t we just stay here?” She asked. She worked hard to get the apartment she wanted, specifically the area and the intricacies of the floor plan.

“We can stay here right now, but Monaco is closer to all of my friends.” He heard the selfishness as he said it. “It would be easier if we had help a few doors away is all I’m saying.”

“Okay? I have family and friends here too what’s the difference?” She understood his point, but they had the same— if not more— at the location in London.

“We all live in the same apartment building cariño, if we need the help, we’ll have lots of it.” He said. “I trust them all.” He said as if that would sell her completely. She barely even knew him.

“So while I’m pregnant you want to move me out of my apartment and into a foreign town? What happened to keeping me comfortable and taking care of me?” She spat. That hit him. He did say he wanted to take care of her all the while she was pregnant.

“Let’s take a while to think about this, I don’t want you to be stressed.” He said. She went to argue but he stopped her and she sighed angrily. “I know, if we moved to Monaco now that’s stressful, we don’t have to, I just wanted to ask.” He hugged her and she stood still, she didn’t want to argue about where they would live.

She started crying in his arms and he adjusted his hold on her to look at her face. “I’m sorry- I just- the hormones make me emotional and you have a good point but I love this place so much.” He pulled her back in for a hug that she now reciprocated.

“It’s okay cariño, we can come back to it, for now we’ll stay here.” He assured her. “I do want to see the paperwork for it though, you shouldn’t have to worry about the payments.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Her voice cracked. “I have enough saved up I can use.” Yeah. That wasn’t happening. They’re married and he makes enough for her not to have to worry about that. “I don’t want pity money.” With that she began crying harder at the fact she didn’t have enough money to accommodate a baby.

“Cariño, we’re married now, and I want to pay for the apartment.” He said. “It’s not a hold of power I promise.” He has no clue why he said that but it felt right to be said. “Let’s go lay down and take a minute to calm down, hm?” He rubbed her back and she nodded.

When he brought the conversation back to light, it was easier to navigate and explain since he took the time to think it all out strategically instead of spontaneously. She agreed to A. Let him pay the rent and B. That they would stay in Monaco when the baby is born.

She went to the rest of the races for the season, pregnant and all. She actually loved them. Now it was a hassle with media about who she was and how she just came out of nowhere married to Carlos, but he handled it quite well.

“Hey! How are you feeling today?” Max greeted her. “Baby Sainz being nice in there?” He gave her belly a poke and she giggled at him.

“Baby Sainz is being nice today surprisingly.” She said. “Where did Carlos run off to?” She asked, her brows furrowing. It was free practices today so he couldn’t have gone far.

“Meeting I think, his car was acting up on track.” Max said, also confused on Carlos’s whereabouts. “I’m sure he’s in the garage.” Max mentioned. She liked Max, he was a stereotypical 18 year old. New to being his own person and an adult for once. Not that she was far off from his age but hey- he just acted more on the age part of it all.

“Lo siento Mi amor.” (I’m sorry my love) Carlos said out of breath on his way over. “Meetings and car talk.” He smiled and kissed her. He leaned down and gave her belly a kiss as well, cooing to the baby.

“It’s alright, anything good from your car?” She asked. She didn’t really bother to know much more than the dangerous speeds of the car so he didn’t force it on her.

“Yeah, just a tiny issue that can be fixed for tomorrow.” He smiled. They went to the cafeteria and ate food before heading back to the hotel for the night. “Do you want to take a bath, cariño?” He asked when they did end up back.

“Sure, why do you ask?” She was curious, he never really made much effort to go out of his way for her. Well not in private as much as public that is.

“Just feel like we should relax in another way, and that tub is really nice.” He says. She smiles and kisses him. He runs the bath and lit some candles.

“Ohh this is nice mi amor.” She said. He chuckled softly and kissed her. He pulled her in for a hug and felt her shoulders tense and her body lock up a little.

“I feel your tension, amor.” He whispered. “You’re supposed to relax.” She looked up at him with hesitant eyes and he caught the look immediately. “If you aren’t comfortable we don’t have to.”

She mulled it over and agreed to it, her worries still lingering but not as strong as before. “The last time we were naked for this long was months ago, that’s all.” She mumbled. He assured her he wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

He sat in the water first then helped her sit in front of him, the bubbles covering the top layer of water. The temperature was perfect, not too hot, not too cold. She carefully sat in between his legs comfortably and sighed. Her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder, and his hands lightly moving over her body. He focused on her belly, drawing little shapes and easing her mind.

“Thank you for this.” She said softly after a few minutes of silence. He kissed her temple and hummed in a ‘you’re welcome’ kind of way.

“We have to think of names for La bebe.” He said softly to not disturb the calm air. “If it’s a chiquito, he should be named after me.” He smiled.

“Hmm, okay.” She agreed. “What about if it’s una chiquita?” Her Spanish wasn’t great but she knew a little.

“That’s the hard part, mi amor.” He chuckled lightly. “I like Rosa, or Isabella.” He said questioningly. She thought for a minute before responding.

“Those are nice, what about Aurelia or Adelia or Maya?” She asked. “Aurelia Rosa Vázquez?” She tested the name and it rolled off her tongue.

“Rosa Maya Vázquez?” He tested. “Maya Isabella Vázquez?” He put the names together and she hummed as he did. Until, “Rosa Adelia Vázquez?”

“Rosa Adelia Vázquez.” She hummed. “I love it.” They didn’t know whether it was a boy or girl. She wanted to wait until the birth and what she wanted was what he wanted, so they were kept unaware. “Or if it’s a chiquito, Carlos Sainz Vásquez the third.” She giggled.

“El tercero, amor. Carlos Sainz Vázquez el tercero.” He chuckled with her. He kissed her head and he felt a little kick from her belly. “Ay bebe, deja que Mami se relaje.” (Baby, let Mami relax) He cooed to the unborn baby.

“They probably don’t like it when I laugh, all my muscles squeeze them.” She said laughing. More kicks followed and she was done laughing. “That’s enough little one.” She cooed calmly, running her own hand over her belly.

When she got really close to her due date, they returned to Monaco. Racing ended a few weeks prior so they had enough time to really settle down and not stress over everything.

They had gotten to understand each other more and work around flaws they saw in each other to make the relationship work for the little one, falling in love wasn’t on the agenda but it did happen.

“Time to wake up amor.” Carlos whispered softly to her. She groaned and opened her eyes to see him crouching on her side of the bed, caressing her hair lovingly as he smiled at her.

“Why can’t I just sleep amor?” She groaned. “I’m not due for another week.” He insisted she gain a better sleep schedule and she agreed, only to realize that meant being in bed by 9:30 and waking up at 8:30. She hated it.

“It’s 9, I let you sleep in a little.” He teased. She glared at him and let him help her sit up. “Careful now.” He mumbled. He always helped her when he could. Most race mornings were chaotic and unorganized, but at home they were peaceful and slow.

“Gracias amor, but I’ve got it seriously.” She said, looking up to the tall man as he stood. He gave her a look and he held out his hands. She sighed but did need the help that he provided to get her up from the bed. Only to find out that it was enough to send her into labor.

“Amor? What’s wrong?” He asked when her face fell and she looked down. He thought she just had an accident but by the reaction she had it wasn’t that.

“My water just broke.” She said. No emotion, no tears, just shock. They had a hospital bag packed, a car seat in the car, a nursery too, they just weren’t expecting it to be so soon. They thought they had another week. He scanned her face and then pulled her in for a hug.

“Ok, let’s get you back on the bed for now, I’m going to get everything ready for the hospital.” He said a bit frantic and panicky. He did as he said, bringing the hospital bag to the car, starting the car, then returning to his wife in labor. “Everything is ready, did you want to change before we leave amor?”

He didn’t realize right away that when he left she started crying. She looked up at him with scared eyes. She nodded and he got her new pajamas, the soft ones she liked most. He helped her get changed and then just held her for a minute.

“Everything will be alright, you’re okay amor.” He whispered. “Let’s get you to the hospital and situated sí?” She nodded again, now calmed down enough.

They make it to the hospital and she gets put in a room for labor and delivery. The nurses were super sweet and amazing. She got situated in the room and Carlos stayed by her side the entire time.

Once everything was said and done, they had time to just relax. Rosa was born with a full head of his dark hair and her beautiful hazel eyes. At the moment Carlos is holding her tiny body to his bare chest and his wife is sound asleep on the hospital bed.

“Mi corazon, mírate.” (My love, look at you.) Carlos cooed to the little one. His attention was moved to his wife who stirred on the bed. “Mami se despertó, eh?” (Mommy woke up huh?)

She huffed a breath and rolled over, now facing away from him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, she was just severely uncomfortable and seeing him comfortable made her upset. She’s got needles poking out of her, wires connecting to loud machines, the bed is thin and papery, and they won’t give her a heavier blanket. She’s just uncomfortable and wants her own bed back.

Carlos took this all into account on a mental list as she had mentioned all of them and set Rosa in the tub like bed. “Mi amor, what’s the matter?” He asked running a hand through her hair and cooing sweet nothings in her ear.

“I’m uncomfortable.” She mumbled. Carlos tried helping her to move around and she groaned. “I want to go home.” She whined. Carlos looked her in the eye, he couldn’t help but feel for her. She just went through birthing their baby and she can’t get comfortable.

“The doctor said after the tests come back mi amor, not that much longer I promise.” He assured her. As if on cue, a nurse walked in and informed them that they were allowed to be released.

Next will be baby snuggles and cuteness 🥰🥰

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @justaf1girl @widow-cevans @kallanfiona @angstynasty @san4117 @1dloverrxo @mayax2o07 @celestialend

[gabbytvclarke]

Even Better in Person // WillNE

• Summary: Will and reader collaborate on a video together after James began touring, play dress up, and feelings blossom. • Pairing: Youtuber!Reader x friend!Will Lenney • Fluff • Warnings: Swearing • Word count: 4,425 words

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

“Right! Hello my friends, today we’re gonna go through even more lost Amazon parcels!” Will bellows to the main camera. “You might be wondering where James is today and, well, he’s botherin’ other people while on his tour. So we have the much less annoying, very lovely y/n joining me, to see if we’ve made profit!” Y/n sits smiling and waving at the camera, feeling slightly shy at being called lovely by Will. Deep down she can’t believe she’s there, next to the WillNE, considering she’s not a large creator herself.

It came about after one of her videos, a brutally honest Temu haul, gained traction and ended up being on a lot of people’s recommended. This wound up on Will’s radar and he figured he should have her come by his studio to film some form of haul together. They messaged back and forth through instagram, then they had a Discord video call to discuss the Amazon idea, where they realised they shared great banter and just clicked. Things just blossomed from there. This brings y/n to today; meeting Will face to face for the first time, to judge other people’s parcels.

After some delays with travel, she’d turned up slightly later than expected. The crew were polite, but had to usher her and Will to share only quick hugs and hellos before getting in position to start filming. This worked out in y/n’s favour however, as she’d developed quite a ‘YouTuber crush’ on Will since he’d reached out to her, and the hurry made for a good distraction. Will promised to spend time with her properly after filming, to make up for the rush.

With the video introduction out the way, the pair dive straight in the with parcels. Will has a larger more padded package which he assumes is clothing, whereas y/n has a smaller box and guesses it to be a headset. Will’s was a pair of hot and cold taps for a bathroom sink wrapped in a ton of bubble wrap, whereas y/n’s was a knock-off PS5 controller - so not too far off. While Will fiddles with the taps, twisting the nozzles, y/n double checks the price: £12.99.

“This is over £10 so it goes in the good bin, right Will?” She asks with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, uh-” he stops himself mid sentence and grins. “Yeah! You’re already better than James at this, I had to explain this to him like a million times.” He chirps, leading to y/n and the crew laughing. She shyly looks at the controller information on the box, trying to hide the heat on her cheeks from the way he looked into her eyes and beamed so genuinely.

The next two parcels look similar in size and shape. Will opens his to find a pack of solar powered fairy lights, which he naturally drapes over his shoulders like a scarf, while he leans over and watches y/n gently open hers. “You can just tear it.” He whispers gently over her shoulder, his breath tickling her ear.

“I don’t want to damage it,” she chuckles awkwardly. Will takes the box off her, his long fingers grazing over hers and they exchange a brief glance. Will’s seemingly unbothered, unlike y/n, who plasters a calm smile on her face to cover the electricity she felt.

“Oh don’t mind that.” He then grins before tearing the box open, a cascade of false press-on nail packs spew across the table. After regathering them together in a pile, the pair study each packet. They all contain different lengths and patterns of fake nails. Will holds up a pack of pink leopard print ones, first to the camera and then to y/n. “Please put these on me y/n.” He states, more of a command than a request, his intense stare into her eyes causing her throat to dry up.

“Right now? They might break if you keep ravaging the boxes.” She quips.

Will frowns for a moment. “Hm, maybe you’re right, put them on us when we’re finished.” He holds the pack in front of y/n, as she reaches to take it, he claps it in her hand with both of his. As her gaze darts to his eyes, he keeps his hands there. “Make me fabulous.” He adds on, almost as if he only said that to keep the contact for a couple of seconds longer. He chuckles before turning forward again. “The rest can go in the bad bin, they’re all cheap as fuck.” He shoves the other packets of nails to his left into the red bin, most missing completely, then yanks off his fairy lights and whips them in too.

They dig through a few more parcels, finding only mundane things like hose pipes, extension cords, gloves, all of which go in the bad bin. Y/n gets passed a large but soft package, whereas Will’s only given something small. He rips through his first only to find a dog collar. He lets out a small laugh before pulling a fake offended face. “Oi, did you lot know this was a collar?” He glances from crew member to crew member as a smirk creeps on his face, y/n presses her hands to her mouth in shock.

“Oh no!” She muffles, her eyes wide as they dart from the collar to Will’s face.

“I’m only jokin’ it’s all good, I’m over all that!” He shrugs with a low chuckle as he fiddles with the collar, glancing over at y/n’s package before meeting her gaze. “I’m well over it.” He repeats quietly before his attention returns to the parcel. The reassurance, for only her to hear, and his gentle tone makes her heart skip a beat. And the way he looked at her in those mere seconds, like he wanted her to know he’s single and open. But she doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, maybe he just didn’t want her to feel bad for him.

Y/n’s package reveals a beach towel with built in sleeves, a front pocket and a hood. “This is really cute!” She beams as she holds it outwards toward the camera. Will grins as he places his hand on her shoulder.

“Try it on, try it on!” He chants, slapping the table. She chuckles as she pulls it on over her head, poking her arms through. It’s huge on her. “Don’t forget the hood-” He giggles as he yanks it over her head, the sheer size enveloping her entire face, causing him to burst out in his high pitched laughter. She sits still for a moment in silence for comedic effect before turning to face him slightly, still not uttering a word. It spurs him on even more, his laughs now emitting no sound at all. She just shakes her head at him, the crew also sharing a laugh. As he calms down, he gently moves the hood back to reveal her face. “Sorry love.” He utters cheekily, his hand moving down her back and out of view of the cameras. He gives her a gentle pat before placing his hands on his lap. She’s lucky she’s wearing a bad attempt at a pout, with a smirk sneaking in, otherwise her face would’ve given away her reaction to his gentle touches.

Will throws the collar to his left without looking. “My shitty collar can go in the bad bin, but this,” he grabs the sleeve of the towel hoodie, his knuckles lighting a small fire against y/n’s arm. “Can go in the good bin at £18.” He continues.

A couple of more expensive parcels get opened, including a Nerf gun, which Will uses to terrorise the camera men, and some fairly decent AirPod copycats. They also find more funny cheap items for the bad bin; socks with weird phrases on and a book on how to get lucky with women. Will holds the book up with a smirk. “I don’t need shite like this, I got y/n here on my natural charm alone.” He gestures towards her as she exaggerates a swoon. She wonders if he knows she means it deep down, watching his eyes and nose crinkle as he laughs with her.

The next two packages are definitely fun. Y/n opens to find a policeman costume, opting to put just the hat on while still wearing the towel-top, and tapping the plastic baton into her palm. Will salutes her and calls her ‘Officer Towelson’ before ripping his parcel open, to find a lacy black bra. “Ooh la la,” he murmurs as he holds it up to his chest.

“It’s your size!” Y/n jokingly gasps, Will giggles before getting an idea.

“Right.” He chucks the bra on the desk before whipping his black jumper off, the swift motion taking y/n by surprise, but she thinks fast.

“I can arrest you for indecent exposure ma’am.” She jabs in an authoritative tone. Will shakes his head with a big grin as he loops his arms through the bra, pressing the cups to his chest.

“Can ya help us with the back?” He asks, looking into her eyes with a slight hesitance, as if he didn’t think the question through. She obliges however, leaving the chair and standing behind him.

“Black’s really your colour.” She jokes to lighten the more… intimate mood, as Will frowns to the camera with confusion. Feeling the heat from Will’s skin, she struggles with the intricate hook design on the clasp. “What’s with this?” She mumbles out loud as she leans closer, still fumbling. Her breath caresses his shoulder blades, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand, and she notices. Will dips his head down, maybe thinking it’ll help her in some way, or maybe to hide any redness on his face from view.

“There.” She sighs with a relieved smile as she sits back down next Will. He looks down at his new lingerie and feels his chest again.

“I look like a cheap hooker.” Will states, “But the bra was 25 quid so it should go in the good bin.” There’s a long pause while y/n and the crew wait for Will to remove it, or try to.

Noticing the silence, Will looks around and realises. “Oh, I still want to wear it.” He grins, before leaning over to y/n. “It’s my colour after all.” He whispers with a wink. Thinking fast again, she gently taps him with her baton.

“Calm down missy, prostitution is a crime.” She sniggers.

Will pauses for a moment. “What has this video become?” He asks the camera, feigning disappointment while suppressing a smile.

After a few more parcels, Will declares it’s ‘fucking freezing’ and puts his jumper back on, over the bra. Y/n is still dressed as Officer Towelson, but with the new box Will opens, they both now occupy a fake moustache each from a party pack. Will’s is bushy, whereas y/n has a small handlebar moustache. The crew giggle at their looks as the pair turn to face each other. “Oh wow!” Y/n bellows and they both burst out laughing. As they calm down and shove the torn cardboard pieces onto the floor, Will shakes his head and sighs.

“You still look fit, mind.” He murmurs and her eyes widen. Still? She wonders. She shyly spins her baton in place on the table as they wait for their final parcels.

Hers is a small package, whereas Will’s is only slightly larger. They tear into them at the same time, y/n having lost her gentle touch from the before. They open a pack of fake piercings and a collection of multicoloured clip-in hair extensions. “Oh my god y/n, put ‘em all on me please.” He begs excitedly and almost aggressively. She giggles as she adjusts her moustache and gets behind Will again, attaching different strands to his mullet and draping them over his shoulders so they’re all in view. She hears him audibly sigh a shaken breath as her hands brush against the sides of his neck.

When she sits back beside him, she notices his bushy moustache is gone and he’s wearing a fake septum ring in its place, alongside two fake lip rings. “Can you put these on my ears?” He asks with a cheeky grin, handing over some clip-on dangly earrings and another fake hoop ring. She lets out a small laugh and shakes her head.

“Yes, Will.”

He turns more to face her directly as she easily clips the first earring to his lobe while he sits still with his eyes closed. He then turns his head so his other ear is more in reach, coincidentally shielding his face from the camera. She clips the other dangly earring with ease before looking from ear to ear. “Where do you want the last ring?” She asks.

“On the side here.” He replies softly, tapping the edge of his ear, just above where the lobe meets cartilage, with his head still turned away from the crew. As she leans closer to ensure she doesn’t nip him or pinch him, she notices his gaze flicker down to her lips and back up to her eyes. She’s sure of it. They feel their breaths mix just as y/n’s certain the ring’s on comfortably and leans back slowly.

“Perfect.” She smirks, “You’re the prettiest hooker I’ve ever arrested.” Will laughs in response before gasping.

“Oh!” He exclaims before carefully removing his jumper again. The crew sniggering at the pair. Y/n, wearing a beach towel/hoodie, a police hat and a handlebar moustache; beside her is Will in a lacy bra, with fake piercings and kids’ rainbow extensions in his hair. “D’ya still have the nails?” He then asks.

“Oh yeah…” She reaches into her towel pocket and pulls them out, smirking at the camera. “This may take a while as we need to find which ones fit each nail.” She advises the camera and by extension, the crew. Will decides to dismiss them for a short break, even though they’re so close to finishing the recording. Everyone leaves the room except for the producer Olga who sips her iced coffee and scrolls through her phone. Still, the moment feels intimate.

“How’ve you found it so far.” Will asks quietly as he glances up at y/n’s face, double taking at the moustache and chuckling through his nose.

“So fun,” she beams in response as she empties the fake nails onto the desk, preparing to check each size.

“Yeah?” Will whispers, looking deeply at how her eyes wrinkle as she smiles.

“Absolutely, honestly I thought you’d be a grump with me like you are with James, so I was surprised.” She giggles. She holds a nail up to Will’s hand as he edges it closer to her.

“Well, we’ve been mates for a while, more like brothers.” He shrugs, watching her hands as they gently continue measuring. “It’s ya first time on the channel so I thought I’d better not be too mean to you.”

She raises her eyebrows, pausing to meet his gaze. “So you went easy on me, huh?” She smirks. His eyes dart down to her lips, licking his own instinctively as she continues comparing sizes.

“You could say that, yeah.” His pitch and volume low, noticing Olga leave the room out the corner of his eye, leaving the two alone.

“I don’t think you’re mean Will, I think you’re sweet.” She states bravely, also noticing it’s just the two of them. “I just need to apply these glue strips…” Will feels his face heat up at her compliment, pressing his hands firm to the table nervously as she applies the clear strips to each nail.

“And you’re just as entertaining and comforting as you come across online.” Will says, taking a small breath as she takes his hand, holding it in her own as she begins pressing on the nails. They’re soft and warm, contrasting the cooler air and rough lace against his chest.

“Comforting?” She questions, still holding his hand.

“Yeah. You’re like really comfortable to be around, I felt like I could be meself around you from the call alone.” He explains. She shoots him a sweet smile.

“Same to you actually.” She replies, with the final nail pressed on. She holds the plastic against his pinky fingernail as a silence falls over them. After looking at how nice Will’s hands are, her eyes flick up at his only to see he’s already looking at her. His gaze trails down to her lips as she watches his Adam’s apple bounce in his throat. She’s certain she can see him slowly lean forward but before she can confirm,

“How’s it getting on?” Olga asks as she reenters the room. Luckily she was looking down at her phone, so she didn’t notice the two’s faces being only inches apart. The pair sit back straight in their chairs as if nothing happened.

“Just got the last nail on now.” Y/n chuckles awkwardly as Will holds his hands out, admiring her work. The crew join them to film the outro.

“Thanks for watchin’ friends!” Will starts, gesturing his hands to ensure his new manicure will be noticeable to the viewers. “A massive thank you to y/n for making this fun and even more so for my new look!” He gestures towards his towel clad police friend.

“You look beautiful Will.” She grins, Will swishes a couple of the coloured extensions over his shoulder.

“Hey I like her!” He chirps to Olga, gesturing towards y/n with his thumb. “She’s far better than James. Let’s bar ‘im from the channel!”

———

“Nice work again guys, I’ll let you close up Will.” Olga calls to Will and y/n as she leaves the studio room with the other crew members, “See you later!”

“Bye, nice to meet you all!” Y/n calls out as she waves.

“Bye you lot!” Will chimes in. Now it’s just the two of them again, he turns to look at his fellow creator, shyness creeping over him. “So, that was definitely fun.”

“It really was, definitely the best first collab I’ve ever done!” She giggles, Will’s eyes widen as they both tidy up some more.

“What?! This is ya first collab?” He asks, his voice up an octave. She nods with an embarrassed smile.

“You’re a natural darlin’!” He squeaks, eliciting a laugh from her as she avoids his gaze. They put the last of the cardboard away. “Hey, you still wanna do something while the sun’s still out?” He asks sweetly.

“Of course, it’s so beautiful outside.” She replies, grabbing her bag.

———

The London breeze strokes their cheeks as they step onto the pavement side by side. The one good thing about rushing to record? There’s plenty of the day left to spend time together. Real time, in person, not hours of texting or chatting rubbish or planning meet ups over Discord. “You’re even better in person.” Will blurts out, realising how weird he sounds almost immediately, “I mean like, your personality and all that.” He clears his throat while she lets out a shy giggle. “Fuck, I just mean… I mean it’s nice to know it’s not all put on for YouTube. You’re genuine y/n.”

She chuckles some more, staring at the ground to avoid any eye contact. “Thanks Will, the same goes to you honestly.”

“Oh god, be honest now, what did ya really think I’d be like?” He dreads to ask.

“A miserable sod.” She quips back, a little too fast, eliciting a quiet but high pitched laugh from him.

“You cheeky bitch.” He shakes his head, keeping his hand in his pocket as he elbows her playfully. “I��m glad you feel comfortable enough with me to say stuff like that.”

They reach a small indie cafe, the smell of coffee beckoning them in. “Might as well,” Will shrugs, “didn’t get a chance to get a drink before recordin’.”

The pair order their typical go-to drinks and opt for a table by the window, it’s a little more secluded, and they get to people-watch passers by. Will begins telling her a funny anecdote about one of his earliest collabs with James, while y/n tries her best to focus 100% of herself on his words. It’s difficult though, her eyes keep wondering to his lips and chiselled jaw while he smirks, or the way his eyes squint shut when he laughs unapologetically, or his big hands when he gestures. “Have I lost ya?” He asks with a snigger.

She blinks and lightly shakes her head, realising she’d been staring. “No-no, you said he was being all smug. Carry on.” She’s right. Luckily she was still listening slightly, just a little captivated at the same time. It doesn’t stop her cheeks from burning up though.

“Right… ‘Cause for a minute there, I thought you were eyein’ me up.” He smirks, folding his elbows on the table and shooting her a confident yet almost challenging look. She’s so taken aback she nearly crushes the coffee cup in her grip.

“W-what?” She squeaks. Taking a sip to try and get away with saying nothing more.

“Yeah you were like, proper staring at me.” He mirrors her, also taking a drink. She pinches her lips between her teeth, watching his hand to avoid eye contact. “It’s alright if you were love.” He licks his lips as his eyes scan her up and down, his grin growing wider.

“I, um…” Her gaze meets his and she feels her hands clam up. “I guess… I’m sorry.” Is all she can let out.

“Don’t apologise, I’m flattered. It’s nice to know it’s not just me.” His eyes stay on hers as he reassures her, leaning more forward in his chair as he waves his hand nonchalantly.

“Not just you?” She questions, wiping her sweaty hands on her thighs.

“Exactly that, I’ve been checkin’ you out all day.” He chuckles shyly, looking down at his cup and saucer. “No point in hidin’ it, I’m only human. Look at ya.” He looks back up at her and gestures towards her beautiful flushed face. “Anyway where was I? Oh yeah James, the smug bastard…”

———

By the time the pair finished their drinks, an orange hue began cascading over the streets. Will can sure tell a story, but it kept y/n interested, even with the awkward intermission in the middle. Will waits for the barista to look their way before mouthing a polite request for their bill. She comes over and naturally places it in front of Will, alongside a couple of complimentary chocolate mints. He pays by card pretty quick and the barista takes away their cups, along with plates from the pastries the pair ended up having.

Y/n takes out her phone. “How much was my stuff again?” She asks, opening her banking app. Will reaches over the table, placing his hand over her phone, his fingers enveloping hers.

“Don’t be daft, it’s on me.” He smiles. His hand lingers on hers, and she wonders if the barista can sense the tension from across the cafe. After a little back and forth, y/n allows him to cover the whole cost and they leave.

“I can’t believe it’s still warm, the sun’ll be completely set soon.” Y/n chirps as they take a leisurely stroll.

“Maybe you’re just warm from sizin’ me up earlier.” Will shrugs, his head tilting slightly as he watches her reaction out the side of his eye.

“Stop it, you.” She laughs, her hand covering her shy smile.

“Ah just admit it y/n, you fancy me a bit.” He chirps as he wraps his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into him and causing her to stumble as they walk. She steadies herself as she giggles, her hand instinctively resting against his belly. They stop walking and share a gaze. One that’s a little more unreadable. His face becomes more serious as he looks down at her. The near daily texts and voice notes, the silly selfies and memes shared, the Discord call that lasted seemingly forever - it all led up to now.

“Since our first call, I’ve not stopped thinking about meeting you properly.” He confesses, his voice low and soft. He notices the way the sunset reflects in her eyes, making them glow, as if the universe is telling him that she’s the one.

“I felt a connection just from text, but the video call was on another level.” He continues, his eyes wide as he gestures his hands even wider, almost in disbelief at his own words. “I knew I was in trouble already, and now...” He peers down at her again, a smile daring to tug at his lips, as he almost forgets how to speak.

Her eyes shimmer pinks and oranges as she hangs on to every word. Facing him fully and stood out the way of other pedestrians so their moment remains uninterrupted. “And now?” She repeats, her gaze glued to his lips.

Testing the waters, his fingers brush against her upper arm. She doesn’t step away or grimace, in fact she leans into his touch. “And now… like I said, even better in person.” He answers, his voice barely above a whisper. They stand in a peaceful silence as their eyes lock, a connection stronger than friends now established in an unspoken agreement. Will smirks. “So, do you fancy us?”

It’s brave but it feels like the right thing, she tugs at his jumper and pulls him down, connecting their lips as Will exhales a small squeak. The kiss lasts no longer than two seconds, a gentle peck as to not rock the boat. Will stands straight again, his lips still forming a slight pout as he registers what just happened.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He then quips, beaming as he watches y/n laugh. He reaches a hand out to cup her cheek, whispering a “C’mere you” as he leans down to plant a softer kiss to her lips. It’s gentle and affectionate, until things kick up a gear.

Her arms hug around his waist as his other arm wraps over her shoulder, pulling her flush against him as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss. He exhales a low hum against her lips as his thumb rubs gentle circles on her cheek. A passer by wolf whistles them, snapping them out of their makeout session. They pull apart and each catch their breaths as they start giggling.

Will’s smile only grows as he tugs her towards him once more, leaning down and pressing his forehead to hers. His hands slide down her arms and he weaves his fingers between hers. He sighs contently before asking: “D’you want to come back to mine tonight?”

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

Part 2?

A/n: Idk why I never noticed how yummy he is before... - Gabby xo

[all-my-love-for-harry]

❧ Almost Eden (part one)

pairing; jake seresin x childhood friend!reader

word count; 1.3k

a/n; part one is here!!! i'm so excited for you to meet these characters, this is mostly backstory about bambi and jake and the future parts will be longer, but don't worry, there is some good stuff coming!! let me know what you think <3

August, 2006.

Seventeen-year-old Jake Seresin stood by the kitchen door, watching his mother rearrange a flower bouquet the size of the marble island it was sitting on. She loved flowers and took special care of her greenhouse in the east wing of the house.

"Marigolds?" He finally asked, pushing himself off the wall and getting closer to her mom, his fingers delicately brushing the top of the bouquet.

Mrs. Seresin hummed. "Straight from my garden. Stunning, don't you think?"

"They're beautiful. What's the occasion?"

"Don't tell me you forgot about tonight." Disapproving eyes landed on him. "We have dinner at seven o'clock, Jacob. Darling Bambi's birthday, remember?"

"Oh, yes. I remember, but I'll have to miss it."

"Oh my, why? And don't tell me you're going to a party."

"Mom," Jake groaned, straining the word as he threw his head back. "Don't start, please."

"I just don't understand why you would blow off your friend's birthday dinner! You two were adorable as babies."

"It’s weird, all right? We were never friends. She’s just the kid who’s always there, like a shadow I didn’t ask for."

"Don't be rude, Jacob." His mother shook her head, incredulous at her son's words. "I expect you to be there on time."

Without another word, she left the kitchen, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor being the only noise in the house. Jake rolled his eyes, already dismissing what Caroline Seresin had just said.

The truth was, Jake didn't mean to sound harsh. He actually didn't mind spending time with you; sure, it was a little odd to hang out with a twelve—sorry, freshly thirteen— year-old. After all, you've known each other since you were born.

Four years, nine months, and twenty-six days. That’s how much older he was. It was enough to matter. When you were little, it didn’t—he played with you, laughed with you. But once he got to high school, things changed. Not suddenly, and not with any big goodbye. He just started drifting—found friends his age, his world—and you weren’t part of it anymore.

[...]

Jake didn't make it last night. In fact, he almost didn't make it to his own home. The party he went to was full of pretty girls demanding his attention and, well, who was he to deny them of it?  When he got home around three in the morning, his mother was long asleep, so now he was lying on his bed, trying to nurse his hangover without any help, so he wouldn't have to face her disapproving look.

Well, fuck it. Jake thought as he forced himself off the bed. He'd told his buddies he'd meet them in a few hours, and that meant facing his mother sooner rather than later. So he got ready for the day while he silently hoped her mother had gone out and was not waiting for him.

They were picking him up, so all he had to do was get out of the house and walk down the trail toward the gate of the property. Mrs. Seresin wasn't home, just like he had hoped. However, there was someone else waiting for him on the other side of the gates, and it wasn't any of his friends.

There you stood, dressed in clothes that were ironed to perfection, probably by your nanny, as Jake was certain your mother had never touched an iron in her life. Your face, he couldn't read. There was a hint of disappointment aimed at him in your gaze, yet your eyes sparked with a little hope upon noticing him. He said your name, walking closer to you as if nothing had happened. As if he didn't bail on you last night on your birthday, and last week when you invited him over to go horseback riding.

"Hi, Jakey." You finally said, a little smile forming on your still baby face. "Your mom said you'd come last night."

"Yeah, sorry. I had a p—uh, it was nothing. Happy birthday, Bambi." He said somewhat apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Do you want to come over? My nanny said we would make cookies." Her tone was cheerful like everything was water under the bridge to her. He liked that about her, always had. She never held grudges and never demanded any explanation from anyone who wronged her because it did not matter.

He opened his mouth to reply, to give in and say yes, of course, he'd spend time with her, it wouldn't kill him to go bake some cookies to make her happy, to make it up to her. But a loud horn cut him off, followed by the whistles and hollers of his stupid friends.

"Wow, Jake. Didn’t know you were into daycare work now!"

"Shut up, Aiden." He rolled his eyes, suddenly annoyed his friends had spotted him with you.

"C'mon, dude. We snagged some cold ones from Carlos' dad's liquor store unless you prefer juice boxes and naptime." The dark-haired boy behind the wheel snorted, clearly enjoying poking at Jake.

"Can we raincheck?" He said softly to you, hoping they wouldn't hear.

"Actually—," Another horn.

"Sorry, Bambi. I gotta go."

"Wait, Jake." She took a few steps, trying to reach for him but he had already begun to walk away.

"Oooh looks like someone's got a little crush on Jake!" Another head poked from the car's window.

"She's a child, dumbass." Jake hissed at them before turning to you, now clearly annoyed as he mouthed your name once again. "I can't do this right now."

"But I just wanted—"

"I said no, kid. Jesus—are you seriously this dense? I'm not your friend. You still play with Barbies and cuddle a stuffed animal at night, and I'm currently nursing the worst hangover of my life. I was trying not to be an asshole, but you clearly don't get subtle, so let me spell it out: leave me the fuck alone."

Jake didn't know why he said that. Really, he didn't know why those words left his mouth, and he immediately regretted them as he saw the instant tears forming in your big doe eyes, your hand dropping to your side as you stopped trying to reach for him. But despite the guilt pooling in his stomach he still turned around and got in the car, leaving you alone on the sidewalk as they drove away.

He told himself he'd go find you later, probably by the horses in your family's land, and he'd apologize to you. Because, yes, he cared a lot for you. No matter the age difference there was a time when you were attached to the hip. He figured he had some time to cool off and get his shit together before he went to you.

"Did Bambi come by the house today?" Hours had passed and Jake was once again sitting in the kitchen when his mother appeared.

He stopped chewing. Now, he wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't give her a reason to yell at him for being disrespectful even though he deserved it. But her tone was normal, curious even. He knew for a fact you didn't tell on him, or else his mom would've entered the kitchen in a less friendly way.

"Uh, yeah. I couldn't stay with her though. But I was thinking of going over to her house later."

"She didn't tell you?" She furrowed her brows, her line of gold bracelets clicking on the marble as she took a seat next to him.

"Tell me what?"

"Jake, honey, she's gone."

No way. "What do you mean gone?"

"Her mother got her into boarding school. Her flight was today."

"Boarding school?"

"Yes, boarding school. Sweetie, I thought you knew. Didn't you go ride with her last week?" He said he was going to go but that might have just been to get out of going to church with his mother, but she didn't know that.

"She didn't mention it. But she can't be gone, mom. Before I left her this morning she invited me over, before I—" Oh, God. "She’ll be back for the holidays, though, right? They wouldn’t send her that far... they couldn’t."

"I don't think so, the school's in Switzerland, honey."

Fuck, he thought he had more time.

[angels-hideaway]

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱 III

Chapter I ;; Chapter II

vampire!Caitlyn Kiramman x peasant!fem! Reader

c/w: descriptions of gore, blood etc. intoxication, mild nsfw. Reader has comphet too.

w/c: 6.2k

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE! Sorry it took long, I was going back and forth on a lot of things and even caught some writers block😵‍💫. I’m happy I could get it out to everyone though! Thank you for all the support on this personal fantasy fic!

summary: As you and Caitlyn finally confront your feelings for each other, ghosts from your past return, leading you to commit an atrocity you can’t take back. SONGS: waltz no.2 by Cihat Aşkin, albinoni/Arr. Giazotto: Adagio in G minor, Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski, Vocalise, Op. 34, no. 14 by sergi Rachmaninoff, A Heart Made of Yarn by Franz Gordon. (Happy listening!)

“Wait for me!” You yelled for the boy in front of you. Cassian, your friend, was already racing through the woods. A small branch in his hand. “Ugh, all you girls are so slow!” He pouts, finally stopping for you to catch up. “I’m not slow! This dress is just not good for running…” you mumbled. Cassian grabbed your hand and led you towards the castle. “The adults never let us come up here…They say a vampire lives inside.”

You admired the beautiful gothic architecture with awe. “A vampire?” Your eyes were wide with childlike wonder and curiosity. “I’d sure like to meet them.” Cassian’s face contorts. “Meet them? I’d like to kill’em! This branch probably won’t do though…” he tosses it away. “I’ll need something bigger. I’ll make a fine vampire hunter when I grow up! And you’ll be my wife.” His chest puffs up with confidence.

“But I don’t-” 

“oh it’s okay. I’ll take care of you!” He cuts you off. “Okay…”

Your eyes flickered open. Now awake from your dream, you remember Cassian. A childhood friend who pursued you relentlessly. As he grew up, he became overbearing and pushy. You once convinced yourself that you were in love with him, but it wasn’t working. You never once felt love for anyone, but you wanted to. Being unmarried at your age was already unusual. You tried to love Cassian, but no matter how much time you spent with him, you couldn’t.

 As your senses woke, you noticed that there was a strange weight on top of you. When you attempted to sit up and  look to your side tiredly, you were met with Caitlyn’s glowing blue eyes. She grinned before pushing you to lie back down. “Let’s stay like this. Don’t move.” You were too tired to argue. You could feel her shift to listen to your heart beat. “You’re so sweet like this… All cozy and warm.” She moves again to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you in to her. “Caitlyn?” She presses her forehead to yours. “Yes, dear?” 

“Uhm.. what are you doing?” She makes a strange face, but replies “I’m just spending time with you. Before I feed.” 

“That’s tonight?” She nods, breathing in the scent of your hair. 

“I’ve been waiting all week. I can’t get enough of you.” She traces your body with one hand that stops on your hip. “Do you enjoy being a vampire?” You ask. “You’re always so excited when it’s time.” She stops and thinks for a moment. “I wouldn’t say I enjoy it. I simply get to enjoy some unorthodox benefits. Like watching you slowly weaken underneath me, like a wilting rose in my garden.” 

“That’s quite poetic…” your eyes meet her in an intense stare.

She sits up, and cages you beneath her. Her bare arms are on either side of your head, and it’s only then you notice she’s almost completely naked. Her shirt isn’t buttoned all the way, and you can see all the way down to the start of her stomach. “What? Never seen a body besides your own?” She notices your strange reaction. Caitlyn seems comfortable with nudity. “No it’s just, that makes this a lot more intimate.” 

“I suppose it does. Are you okay with that?” Her sly grin makes your heart stir. She knows what she’s doing to you. “Uhm, yes.” 

“That’s my girl.” She hugs you gently, before dragging her tongue up the side of your neck. She was being very sensual tonight. “Well, wherever you’re ready.” You tell her. Caitlyn lays you back down and lays next to you herself. She stays like that for a while, just relaxing before rolling on top of you, and pinning your arms above your head. “So helpless. I love fragile little creatures.” 

Her teeth sink into your neck like they belong there. She reciprocates any sound you make with one of her own. You’ll whine in pain, and she’ll groan in pleasure. Your body begins to feel fuzzy again, and you wrap your arms around Caitlyn’s bare back to hold you steady. Every time she’s fed from you, she drinks more each time. Her body tenses and twitches whenever you make a sound of pleasure from the drug controlling your psyche. 

Your arms fall back to your sides, and Caitlyn seizes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers with yours like clockwork. When she finally releases you, she sighs and brushes the stray hair from your face. “You sound so beautiful when you’re in pain. I can’t decide if it’s prettier than the sounds you make when you’re high off venom.” She lies back down and cradles you against her.

“Caitlyn?” That was the longest she’s ever bitten you, meaning this is the most venom you’ve ever had in your system. You can feel it coursing through your veins, and altering your thoughts. You almost enjoy the sensation of being high from it. You’re Caitlyn’s. The crest you still wear around your neck proves that. You’re her blood bank, forever. Meanwhile she’s gazing at you with hazy eyes. “What’s going through your head right now, my dear? Tell me.” She gets up and squeezes out a wet rag on the table next to the bed.

“Caitlyn…” you mumble as she places the cool rag on your forehead. “Oh really? Is that all?” She checks your pulse. “Again. Do it again. Take as much as you want. Drain me, please.” She relishes in your desperate words and sighs in satisfaction. “Aww, I wish I could. Unfortunately doing that may risk never tasting you again, so I’ll have to decline. Now, get some rest.” She kisses your forehead, leaving a lip stain of  your own blood.

That wasn’t the first of many odd interactions. Just yesterday, she left a bouquet of fresh roses at your door for you when you woke up. It’s also become a habit of hers to go out at night and surprise you with new dresses and luxuries. The breakfasts you wake up to become more elaborate too.

Sometimes, she’d dance with you at night too. She’d just be in her study and get up, make her way to wherever you’re seated, bow, kiss your hand, and ask: “May I have this dance?” Then, she’d dance with you slowly, holding your hand gently, with her other arm around your waist. She does this while looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world. There wouldn’t even be any music most of the time. Sometimes she’d hum a song, or sometimes she’d just dance with you in silence.

Is it possible that Caitlyn is in love with you? But that would mean that you’re her one and only. The book said so. Kiramman vampires love one and never again. What would you do if that really was the case? 

“Darling? Are you awake?” Caitlyn peers into your room one night. She comes inside and sits at the side of your bed. “Is something the matter, Caitlyn?” She shakes her head no. “I’m just checking on you. Any more nightmares?” She rests one hand on your thigh. “Not recently. I think I’m okay now.” She starts to rub up and down your thigh through the blankets. “That’s good…” She squeezes gently. 

“Caitlyn, I had a question.” You sit up and prop yourself against some pillows. “Feel free to ask me anything, darling.”  She smiles reassuringly. “If a vampire fell in love, what would happen?” You knew the answer already from the book, but you just wanted to see what she would say. “If I fell in love?…Well, I’d treat them very well and love them forever. I can only love one person in my life, so they would be my everything.” She doesn’t break eye contact the whole time she says that. “And you?” She says. “What?”

“What would happen if a sweet girl like you fell in love?” She’s smiling softly. “I’m nothing special, so nothing fantastical like having one true love or anything like you… I suppose I would want to be with them. Maybe I’d be too shy to ask, or maybe I’d be forward and tell them as soon as I figured out how I felt.”

“Really? How wonderful it must be to fall in love. I never knew that sort of love in my life. I only knew lust.” She looks remorseful. You question further. “Never in your human life did you fall in love? Not with any of your uhm, partners?”

“No. Maybe I could have, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. All I wanted was that feeling watching a girl unravel beneath me provided. Power, maybe?” She thinks on it some more, but looks back to you with renewed curiosity. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?” 

“Me? Well, not exactly.”

“That’s a strange answer. It’s usually a yes or a no.”

“Well, I would say yes, but I think it was more so me wanting to feel love. There was someone: a boy named Cassian.” Caitlyn looks very focused on your story. “And you loved him?”

“I wanted to. I never felt romantic love for anyone. I wanted to, but it just never happened. I think something’s…wrong with me.” Caitlyn comes to your side and brings you into a hug. “Nothing is wrong with you.” She hugs you tighter. “You just didn’t love him, and that’s okay. I’m confident that somewhere, there’s someone who loves you very much…”

“Caitlyn.” You lean into her grasp, and she lays you down gently. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I love you, if that counts for anything.” She drags one thumb over your bottom lip. “Someone so kind and understanding of me, someone who doesn’t run away.” Her hair falls onto your face

“You love me too, don’t you? Please say you do.” She lowers herself to lie on top of you in a smothering hug. “ I think I do.”

“That’s enough for me, my love. Let me cherish you here, forever.” Her lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your eyes are still open just from the surprise, but Caitlyn’s fingers dragging over your face urge you to close them. She kisses you with as much hunger as she does love. Her fangs scratch your lips, and the taste of your own blood taints the taste of her kiss. 

When the two of you part, a thin, string of saliva still connects you. Caitlyn’s lips look glossy and you can feel her breath on your face. There’s a moment of silence where she gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. “Thank you.” She whispers. 

When you wake up in the morning, Caitlyn is asleep. She’s nocturnal, so you leave her in bed. She kissed you. She kissed you hard. You raise your hand to your lips, and touch them gently. You can even feel the little cut left by Caitlyn’s fangs. You were her one and only love. She loved you. The thought made you feel like swooning. 

That evening, you hear the soft meow of Whisper, and see the cat appear from a dark hall. “Whisper? Is something the matter?” The cat seems tense. Her fur is raised and pupils dilated.

You follow the cat up the stairs to the balcony of the castle. “Whisper?” The cat stops. Walking out onto the balcony, you look out over the village and the woods. It’s only sunset, but you can see a trail of smoke rising from the direction of Crows-Wood. It had to be a fire, but the village wasn’t burning. A bonfire. You can feel your stomach drop with dread. Crows-wood only threw large bonfire parties before a hunt. Not just any vampire hunt though, they were sending off a group. You remember them distinctly. The people chugging ale and screaming at the top of their lungs, the vampire corpses and caricatures being paraded on sticks, and the slew of weapons the hunters were preparing to head off with. You always stayed inside during these just because they disturbed you so much. Who could celebrate the murder of anything with such fervor?

A group of vampire hunters were being rallied to head this very way to kill Caitlyn. When you realize this, you rush back to your bedroom, with Whisper following. “Caitlyn! Caitlyn wake up, please!” You shook her cold body into waking. She was still in your bed, sleeping as peacefully as when you left her. That was the case until your frantic shaking and tears woke her. “Darling please, what’s the matter?” She takes your hands gently to stop them from shaking her. “Crows-Wood! A bonfire they’re- they’re-”

“Shhh, my love.” She sits up and pulls you in against her chest. “Calm down. You can explain once you’ve done that.” Whisper leaps onto the bed and settles next to Caitlyn. 

“Now, speak slowly and tell me what’s going on.” You pull away from Caitlyn and look her in the eyes. “Crows-Wood is sending a group of hunters this way. I saw them celebrating over a bonfire.” Caitlyn’s expression grows grim. “How many do they usually send in a group?” You try and recall from your memories. “Uhm… five or six.” Caitlyn sighs. “I can take them, but I’ll need your help.”

“What do you need!? I’ll do anything.” She smiles at you and brushes your hair away from your neck. “I hate to ask this of you, but I’m at my strongest when I drink human blood.” 

“Of course! Take as much as you need.” You pull your dress down to expose your shoulder. The night has fully set in now. Caitlyn’s hand brushes your cheek, and she pulls you in for a kiss. She pulls herself back from your lips to kiss your chin, and continues down to leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. “Caitlyn…” You whisper her name into the room that’s growing ever darker. She nuzzles into the crook of your neck before biting down. Her hands wander down your body, to the small of your back to palm at your rear. Her touch is gentle, but firm.

When she’s finished, she lifts you bridal style and leaves your bedroom. “It’d be too easy to find you here. I’m sure it’s you they’re really after. I’ll bring you to my room.” You’re semi-conscious during the walk there. Caitlyn’s bedroom is” deeper into the castle. She sets you down on a large bed that smells like her. Old fragrances and roses.“Promise me you won’t move. Please just stay here.” She tucks your intoxicated body into the blankets, and leaves. 

You’re woken by the sound of screaming, stomach-twisting wails of pain, and crashes. You’re still high off of the venom, but you stumble out of Caitlyn’s bed to see what’s going on. You’re vision is swimming and you’re feet feel heavy. You have to get to Caitlyn. She needs you. You need her. 

“They’re here.”

The hunters have arrived, and are fighting with Caitlyn as you lean on walls to navigate the castle. She told you not to move, but you couldn’t just lie there and hope she came back alive. You wanted to help. How would you help in the state you were in? Even you didn’t know. You’d manage somehow. By the time you make it to the stairs, you can see the gory display. Three men lie dead on the floor, choking on their own blood as it seeps from gashes in their throats. Their faces are forever expressing regret and horror. The two left are injured, but Caitlyn seems to be tired too. She’s holding up well, but you can tell her energy has depleted. 

“Where is she!? If you’ve killed her I’ll drag you out into the sun come daylight!” An all too familiar voice screams out. Cassian? He’s part of the group? “I’d never lay a finger on her.” Caitlyn rasps, grabbing the other assailant and crushing his throat to fleshy mush in her bare hand. The sickening sight is followed by the snap of his bones. All the times she’s touched you, she’s been perfectly capable of something like that. Cassian yells out in rage, and charges at Caitlyn, wooden steak in hand. Caitlyn seems ready to defend herself until he pulls a small wooden cross from his pocket. The sound of Caitlyn’s scream surprised you. She sounds horrified. So crosses really do affect vampires that much. Caitlyn loses her footing and falls back.

No. This can’t be happening. She killed four of them and the last one standing will manage to kill her? And Cassian of all people? You had to do something. Caitlyn looks melancholic on the ground. It’s like she could get up, but won’t. She just lies there as Cassian aims his wooden steak at her heart. 

Neither of them noticed you rushing down the stairs.

With a gut wrenching scream, you plunge a dagger from a dead man’s hands into his back. Cassian barely has any life left to turn around and look at you. “You’re…alive.” He utters before falling to the ground. Still lost in the venom and your fear, you continue to stab his dead body over and over and over again, screaming all the while. You finally stop when Caitlyn pulls the dagger from your hands, and brings you into a tight hug. “No no no this was never supposed to happen.” She whispers. You sob into her chest from the shock and repulsion. You killed a man. Not just any man, but one you knew since childhood. One who came all this way to rescue you. 

“Darling look at me please, look at me.” Caitlyn wipes your tears with her thumbs and forces you to look at her. Shes looking at you like she doesn’t recognize you. “He was going to kill you I- I couldn’t let him take you away from me!” You’re spouting nonsense as you try to make sense of your impulsive action. “Shh shh shh..” Caitlyn just urges you to be quiet, and hugs you close. You can taste his blood in your mouth. “I- I’ll run you a hot bath, and we can soak together okay? It’s okay.” Caitlyn clearly is not sure what to do with you. You killed for her. Something so much more than a flimsy declaration of love. 

 You’re seated between Caitlyn’s legs as she hugs you from behind while you both soak in the hot bath. You haven’t said a word since you killed Cassian. Caitlyn is concerned. Every so often, she’ll attempt to coax a conversation out of you. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Silence. You cannot speak. “… This might not be the right time, but thank you. At that moment, when I was there on the ground, I was just so…” Her voice breaks. “Tired. Tired of fighting, of hiding, I just was ready to die. But then I remembered you. I remembered that I didn’t want to leave you, because I love you.” She holds you tighter, making the water slosh around the bathtub. You can feel her chin on your head, and her breasts against your back. “But it was too late. I was on the ground, and a wooden steak was inches from my heart. That’s when you attacked him. I would be dead if it wasn’t for you. I wish you didn’t have to do that, and part of me wishes I had died instead of staining your hands with blood, but thank you.” 

She lifts you out of the bath, and drys you off herself. Caitlyn doesn’t take you to your bedroom that night, she lets you sleep in her bed with her. She doesn’t bother putting a nightgown on you, and just leaves you in your underwear. She talks you to sleep, before leaving to clean up the mess of blood and dead bodies. When she returns to bed, sitting at your side, Caitlyn does something she thought to be impossible.

She cries.

She can hardly believe it herself when she feels the first tear roll down her cheek, but they don’t stop. She shouldn’t be able to cry. She can’t. Her body is frozen in time, unable to produce blood, tears, waste, anything. So why is she crying? Since turning, this is Caitlyn’s first time crying for someone besides herself. Her first tears that didn’t stem from selfishness, but from how overwhelmingly guilty she felt for what you did for her. She doesn’t try and stop them, but just lets her tears fall. Caitlyn goes to sleep that night with you by her side, feeling a little more human than normal.

You wake up screaming. There’s blood everywhere. On your hands, in your mouth, and even in your eyes. Cold arms pull you back down to the bed and hold you steady. “Shhh my love. I’m sorry…” You manage to calm yourself, and relax into Caitlyn’s arms. “This is all my fault.” She whispers. “No please don’t blame yourself. I did what I did all on my own.” You reply. “Caitlyn, do you think we have to leave the castle?” Caitlyn seems to be thinking. 

“Maybe, but for now, I think we’re safe.” She intertwined her legs with yours beneath the sheets. Her lips find yours in a soft kiss. Her fingers thread through your hair, and between kisses she whispers. “I love you. I’m grateful for what you did, even if I wish it hadn’t happened. I’m truly sorry.”

“That was him.” You admitted.

“What?” Caitlyn’s lost. “That was the man I told you about. The one I tried to love.” Caitlyn gasps quietly. “I see.” She’s avoiding your gaze. “He was looking for you. That whole time he kept badgering me on what he’d do if I hurt you.” She sounds annoyed. “Honestly, it seems like he loved you. He wanted you back from me. He said you were his.” Her tone sounds angry, yet collected. 

When Caitlyn notices you’re asleep again, she sighs and kisses your lips once more before laying you down. 

When you wake up, Caitlyn’s asleep. Whisper is meowing at the end of the bed. You feel a bit better after all the commotion last night. It’s still hard to believe you killed anyone. Heading downstairs, you check to see if the bodies and carnage are still there. It’s not. Caitlyn must have cleaned it. Killing Cassian almost felt like being born again yourself. It was as if you truly accepted yourself for what you were, standing there, covered in his blood. Someone who could never love a man, no matter how much he urged you to. Every time he stated you’d marry him, the advances he’d make, offerings to your parents, and shouting matches that ended in your tears came crashing down. 

You had decided where you stood the moment you stabbed him. Going against your own people for a vampire. You wanted to stay with Caitlyn forever, and that’s something humanity wouldn’t allow. You’d ask her to turn you into one of her own tonight. You’d be a vampire too.

That night, you wait up for Caitlyn. As usual, she comes into your room to check on you. “Awake this late, my love?” She joins you on your bed, guiding you to lean your head on her shoulder. “Caitlyn, Would it be possible for me to become a vampire?” She freezes. “Why would you want to do that?” 

“I abandoned my humanity the moment I killed Cassian. I want to be with you forever, even if it means becoming a monster.” Caitlyn looks at you fondly. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. Sure you’ve killed, but so have many men. Asking to be like me is asking to be forsaken by god. Besides, I’d never get to taste your blood that way again.” 

“A vampire can’t drink another vampires blood?” She laughs. “No. When my family was still around, we tried that. Vampires need the blood of others because we can no longer produce any ourselves. There’s no blood to take from me, or any other vampire.” An explanation that makes sense. You’re proposal sounded foolish now. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in my right mind.” Caitlyn strokes your back reassuringly. “I understand. Back when I killed for the first time, I was horrified by myself. The difference between you and me is that you don’t need to kill again. I shouldn’t have to either, yet the people of Crows-Wood insist on making me. I was ready to give up, and just let them kill me.” She sounds exhausted. She’s been alive for more than a century, and the whole time she’s been hunted. You can’t even imagine the stress and fear. Before all of this, you thought she had nothing to be afraid of. Safe to say your views have changed.

“I don’t think dying would have been much better.” You say. Caitlyn scoffs. “I’ve been dead a long time. Death comes for us all. In the end, we’re all equal in the eyes of death. Something that life hasn’t granted me.” 

“But doesn’t it scare you?”

“I stopped fearing it a long time ago. It doesn’t matter how scared you are, because every death is equally tragic. Even for those some consider evil.” You sit there in silence with her, letting the words she spoke swim around in your head. “I’m lucky I got to meet you though.” She kisses your cheek. “I’m happy I met you too.” You return with a kiss to her lips. It’s almost like you can’t stop kissing each other. The kiss grows and continues, until Caitlyn’s on top of you. Her hands are in your hair and you can feel her tongue in your mouth. You don’t stop kissing her until it’s physically impossible for you to continue. Caitlyn watches you gasp for breath with that same hazy expression like when she feeds. 

“I should leave.” She huffs. “Why? I was thinking that since I couldn’t become a vampire like you, that we could at least…” she stops you with a finger to your lips. “Please don’t say what I think you’re trying to. You must remember that I’m still a creature who runs on her instincts at the end of the day. I don’t know if I could do that with you without getting you hurt. Sex is what made me this way in the first place.” You reach out to cup her face in your hands. “But that was when it was purely for your pleasure alone, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to take the chance. No matter how much I’d like to.” She tears her gaze away from you and sits up at the edge of your bed. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you.

“Caitlyn I’m sure it’ll be fine. Please?” You follow her and wrap your arms around her from behind. “Darling, please don’t entice me. I’d love to, really, but I just don’t want to hurt you. Please just get some sleep okay? It’s getting late for a human to be awake.” She pries your hands off of her and stands up. “Sweet dreams, my love. I’ll be here if you need me.” And just like that, she leaves. 

Caitlyn wanted you badly, but she couldn’t let herself falter. Make the same mistake she did a century ago, and use you for her own benefit. Caitlyn’s back slid down the door as she sat down on the floor, pressing her fingers to her temple in thought. She already was using you. Using you like cattle that she could feed off of. Caitlyn wants to love you, but her past won’t leave her alone. She can’t tell if she loves you, or if she’s reverted to her past ways. She stands up and rests her forehead against your door. How she longed to go back, but she knew what would happen if she did. Hesitantly, she leaves to go read and distract herself. 

You fall back on your bed with a sigh of frustration. You couldn’t force her. You went to sleep that night with a new way to think of death, and a burning desire for the one who inspired that way of thought. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. After tossing and turning, and many fantasies of your vampire lover, you finally got some rest.

In the days that pass, Caitlyn certainly notices your increasingly clingy state. She tries not to think about it, or what it implies at all, but it’s almost impossible. She wants to make sure that she loves you for who you are, and not just the lust she feels. 

The next few days are peaceful. There are no raging mobs or groups of men marching up the mountain to have Caitlyn’s head, and you can finally sleep at night without thinking about murder. That is until you hear the sound of a glass bottle shattering in the night, waking you and Whisper up instantly. 

The cat hisses and slips out of your bedroom, and you follow. You follow the sound of glass being swept, and end up at the old wine cellar underneath the castle. Caitlyn is cleaning up glass shards as blood seeps into the stone flooring. When she notices you, she looks embarrassed. “Did I wake you? My apologies.” Once all the glass is cleaned she stares at the blood in defeat. “How am I meant to clean this?… a mop I suppose.” She gets a mop and begins to sop the liquid up. “Are you feeling alright?” Caitlyn shakes her head no. “It’s a full moon tonight. So far I’ve been this way without you noticing, but cravings get worse on nights like these. My hands were shaking so badly I dropped a bottle.” 

“What kind of blood is that?” She stops moving. “It’s…cow’s.” Something tells you it’s not cow’s blood. Maybe a humans? You hope not.

“Alright.” You decide not to pry. “It’s only two or three more days until you can drink from me. If you want, we could just do it earlier if the craving is that bad.” She whirls around. “Absolutely not. In this state, I’d loose control almost instantly. I could kill you.” Her hands start shaking again. “Uhm, I can finish cleaning, and you can get a drink.” You propose. She nods hastily and drops the mop, instantly moving to sort through her array of bottles. When she choose one, she doesn’t even bother to pour it in the glass. She just drinks straight from the bottle.

She sighs in relief when she finally puts the bottle down, and it’s almost completely empty. A little bit of blood is running down her chin and her chest is heaving. “Don’t look at me, please. Stay away before I lose my mind.” She genuinely seems ashamed of her behavior.  “Caitlyn, is there anything I can do to help?” You approach her slowly. She sets down the bottle and uses a handkerchief from the table to wipe the blood from her chin. “Help me? Oh, I don’t think there’s any way you can. Just don’t come near me until tomorrow night.” Her voice is unsteady, and her eyes can’t seem to focus on your face. 

“I think I’ll go lay down.” Caitlyn excuses herself and leaves the cellar. You finish cleaning, and decide to go search for her. You find Caitlyn in her bed on her stomach, with her arms hugging a pillow that her face is buried in. “Caitlyn?”

“Yes?” She looks up and over her shoulder at you. Her eyes look tired and she’s paler than usual. “You look sick. Are you really okay? There’s nothing I can do?” She merely pats the free space on the bed next to her. That’s all you needed to see. As you make your way towards her, something about Caitlyn feels off. You sit down on the bed next to her, and she doesn’t react at all. You’re caught off guard when she suddenly cages you against her chest with her arms. Her strength is uncanny, but steady. You trust she won’t hurt you by applying too much force. 

“I told you to stay away.”

“I was worried. You’re acting strange.” 

“Strange? I’m already a vampire. I don’t know how I could get stranger.” You try to pull away from her, but her hold on you is iron clad. “Why are you holding me so tightly?” You’re a little annoyed by her. Caitlyn tries to relax her grip, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. “Like I said. I run on instinct. I’m not human. Right now, my body wants to suck you dry because of that wretched moon. That’s why I can’t let go. It’s torture.” You try and relax your muscles to make this less uncomfortable for you. “And nothing I can do could make it less unbearable?” 

“Maybe if you left, and I didn’t see you, but I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” 

She slowly leans into your face, pressing her forehead to yours and sighing. “You smell so good…” her voice is still shaking, and her hands follow suit. “Uhm, thank you.” 

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, you know that right?” Her arms finally loosen, and move to begin undoing your dress. “Uhm-yes I know.”

“So would you be okay if I bit you early? I know I said I wouldn’t but damn it all. I promise I won’t take a lot. I’ll be gentle.” She says between kissing down your collar bone, and forcing you to lay down. The kisses make you irrational. All you want is for her to give you more.

“Yes, that’s fine. Just a small bite.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy her sucking you blood. The practice felt like you were closer to her than ever before. The pain felt good, and the pleasure even better. It was sacred, and intimate. Caitlyn pulls down your dress to expose your breasts to the cool castle air. Her fingers trace over the buds of your nipples, making them harden quickly. “You’re not biting my neck?” Caitlyn chuckles. “Mm, I’ve gotten quite tired of that. I want to bite you somewhere else. Somewhere more personal.” She lifts you with her arm around your lower back. Your back is arched, and your chest is completely vulnerable to her. You can feel Caitlyn’s tongue glide around your right breast until it settles on your nipple. When she bites down on the surrounding flesh, you whine in pain, but the hurt quickly disintegrates as her venom is pumped straight into your veins.

Caitlyns eyes never look away from you, and the longer she’s latched onto you, the brighter her eyes glow. When she finally lets go, your breast is left cold and wet with her saliva. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it..” She’s more herself after receiving human blood. She adjusts your dress so you’re covered again. “You’re irresistible. Not to mention how fast your heart was beating. You can feel it too can’t you? How fast it’s going?” Sure enough, you think your heart may burst from your chest. You feel euphoric. “I think you like this. The blood sucking I mean. Just look at your face right now.” She chuckles and checks your pulse as usual. “This isn’t good. This isn’t the first time I’ve broken our rules.” She sounds like she’s talking to herself more than to you. “From now on, I’ll never break the rules again. I’ll never feed off of you off schedule ever.”

And she tries. She really does try, but sometimes the tension between you two is unbearable. Sometimes, Caitlyn will shut herself in her room just to avoid giving in again. You’re doing okay physically though, as long as she doesn’t do it more than four times in a row. When you get dressed in the morning, or undressed at night, you’re body is littered in bruises and bite marks. She’s gotten into the habit of biting you in unconventional places. Your arms, thighs (a favorite), and more. Not all of them are from blood sucking, some are just hickies. Caitlyn’s tried to just mark you normally as a way of “simulating” what it’d be like to actually bite you. You never thought you’d be in a relationship with someone who craves you so carnally. You’ll spot her looking at you like she wants to eat you alive from time to time. Her ice blue eyes burn through you, making you feel bare and exposed before her. The lingering touches, the soft, quiet times, and even the violent, intense moments all combine to create an addicting kind of love. 

It’s one of Whispers favorite things to do to interrupt a heavy kiss with a meow, before pouncing on either you or Caitlyn’s lap to whine for attention. Caitlyn would huff in frustration, but give in to the black cat and stroke her velvety-soft fur for a while.

You’ve gotten into the habit of waking up insanely early just to lie with Caitlyn as she goes to sleep for the day. You’ll lie there while she holds you close, like a child does their favorite toy. When she’s asleep, sometimes you’ll stay and just enjoy the early morning hours by her side. When whisper gets tired of waiting for breakfast, she’ll meow until you gently remove yourself from Caitlyn’s arms, and get started with your day.

Taglist: @starryeyes-7 @caitlynsbathwater @halle5s @riotstemple29 @mxchi-mxxn @thinkviolets @commanderraccoon @madalinee @gwscloq @seisei18 @paigeilicous @cottagegirlworld-blog @cenizajskp @kittymrtnezz69 @jiryelle @vivienneswhispers @all-things-lilac @marve1stranger @trulysapphic @b7ue8erry @poeticrenaissance @whatthefuckisthisapppppp @girlsatourbest @st0nerlesb0 @butchpuppyy @yearningandstillnotlearning @eyehatesex @sunsetzzzzzzz @kaylovesmatcha @venuswarmlight @mellowdreamlandpost-blog

[delta-experiment]

Hey all! It's been a long time!

Delta Experiment first went on indefinite hiatus when Chapter 2 of Deltarune released. Now, Chapters 3 and 4 of Deltarune are out! That's crazy to think about!

I still think about Delta Experiment a lot. (Maybe too much...)

While I was playing through Chapters 3 and 4, it struck me just how many things Delta Experiment correctly predicted (and just how many things I got wrong.) Comparing and contrasting the plans I had made to the finished product has been a very, very interesting experience.

The problem is, I can't really talk about it, because those chapters of Delta Experiment were never released...

So, in honor of Deltarune's newest release (and for the sake of my sanity), I've decided to share the plans of what the future chapters of Delta Experiment were going to be!

I plan on first giving the bare-bones premises of each chapter, and then individually going through one by one and expanding on how certain events and character arcs were going to play out. As I go through, I may also add commentary on how they compare or contrast with the actual release of Deltarune (don't worry, any spoilers would be properly tagged!)

Without any further delay, here's the (very, VERY) simplified outline. Keep in mind, all of these plans were made with only Chapter 1 to go off of!

CHAPTER 3: OUR NEWEST FAMILY MEMBER

In which:

Frisk and "Chris" investigate the skeletons, uncovering the relationships between them (and the fact that Sans, Papyrus and Gaster originally came from another world)

Sans teaches Frisk the ability to sense chroma.

Sans "befriends" your mother.

Asriel and Papyrus bond over their struggles with "Chris" and Gaster, resolving to be patient and grow closer as a family.

Sans receives a phone call from his alternate self.

The Cyan Flower blooms.

CHAPTER 4: BY ANY OTHER NAME

In which:

"Chris," Frisk and Asriel go to church, learning about the human Saints, the history of the Human-Monster war, the legend of the Angel and the Dark Knight.

"Chris" sleepwalks and trashes the house, blaming it on Asriel and getting them grounded.

"Chris", distraught, sneaks out to meet Asgore and thank him properly for helping them while they were living in the alley.

Asgore, sensing they need advice, tells them the story of him and Toriel's relationship, and how it was a lack of honesty that ultimately destroyed it.

"Chris" decides that they're going to try to be more honest from now on, beginning with their identity. Their true name is Chara.

Chara returns to Toriel, explains the situation, and takes the blame for ruining the house.

Asgore still holds a secret.

The Blue Flower blooms.

CHAPTER 5: BALL GAME

In which:

Human exchange students from the city come to Hometown for an annual ball game. The human kids are mean to the monsters, and the monsters form their own team with Jockington as the leader.

Chara's hatred of humans leads to them assaulting one of the other players, getting taken off of the team.

Noelle bravely scores her first-ever goal. Carol doesn't get to see it.

The monsters lose the game, but they proved themselves to be equals through their perseverance.

The Purple Flower blooms.

CHAPTER 6: TOWN HOLIDAY

In which:

Carol sets up the town carnival.

Chara and Asriel help Noelle to win her bake sale competition by selling more gingerbread than little Muffet's spider cookies.

Noelle, grateful, gives Chara a hug. This surprises them.

Meanwhile, Frisk meets a mysterious monster girl from the city who is in town for the carnival. She wins a deck of cards in a game, but ends up dropping them, so Frisk tries to return them to her.

Frisk follows the girl up the mountain, where they accidentally fall down a hole and end up in the Dark World. They experience the carnival from the perspective of the objects, and become good friends.

Frisk learns the girl's name is "Suzy".

They leave the Dark World, and Suzy leaves, asking them not to forget their friendship. They leave the Jack card with Frisk for assurance.

Suzy has seen too much. She is made to forget.

Chara, Asriel and Frisk reminisce about how they used to be enemies, but are now good friends.

The Green Flower blooms.

Chara lets it slip that their full name is "Chara Knightmer." With that knowledge, Gaster places a phone call...

CHAPTER 7: THE TRIAL

In which:

Chara's biological parents come to bring them home. However, there are some pressing concerns regarding their home life, their life in Hometown, and the jurisdiction of the law.

A trial is held to determine whether Chara will stay in Hometown. Carol will preside.

The Yellow Flower blooms.

CHAPTER 8: AN ENDING

In which:

Your actions have consequences.

CHAPTER 8: ANOTHER ENDING

In which:

The experiment is complete.

[maddamoiselle]

The Weight of Wanting You

Pairing: Caleb x NonMC!Reader

Synopsis: You fell for each other in pixels and whispers—never realizing you had already crashed into each other every day in real life.

Tags: Ennemies to lovers, friends to lovers, university AU, slow burn( I hope)

Author's nonsense : Here is the next chapter ! I hope you'll enjoy it because I surely did !

Words; ar.6k

<- Previous Chapter |

Chapter II: The pull of unseen things

The pill tasted like metal and chalk.

You tipped your head back, tossed it in, and swallowed before it even touched your tongue.

Water followed. Cold, clean, clinical. It burned a little going down— maybe from habit.

Your dad called them “stabilisers pills”. You’ve been taking them since your Evol manifested.

Your father, as a doctor, didn’t want you to feel pain because of your power. He did a lot of research for those pills, creating them so you wouldn’t … You didn’t even know.

He used to say you had a bad episode when you were a child, and your evol almost destroyed everything… You had no memory of this…Sometimes you felt like your father was a tiny bit overprotective.

The bottle is plain. No branding. Just your name, your dosage, his signature.

You pressed the bottle back into your bag, zipped it up like you were hiding away a part of yourself. Your suitcase was ready, your phone was charged…

There was practice today. Game soon. You needed to be sharp. Ready. Controlled.

Especially around him.

Your phone buzzed just as you were tying your shoe laces.

Ding.

You checked your phone and couldn’t suppress a smile when you saw the notification on your phone.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed sent a media (5:21)

Since you first sent the picture of your finger forming half a heart, your discord friend started to send you pictures every day.

Sometimes, it would be the sky, sometimes a dog he was petting, something he was cooking…

But there always would be his finger making half a heart.

And you would answer with a picture of your own, never showing your face, of course, but always making the other side of the heart with your fingers.

Today, the picture was of a park.

He told you he had a very strict routine for his body. Waking up early to go for a run and then get ready for his school. One time, he said that his sister tried to keep up with him but ended up sleeping on a bench, waiting for him to finish.

Your face warmed. Your stomach did that annoying soft-flip thing when you noticed his finger making a half-heart. The picture was a little blurry. He must have taken it while running.

You snapped a picture in return— nothing big. Just the morning sky that looked pink… or even purple like. The colors were beautiful, it would be a waste not to share it. You do the other half of the heart with your finger before sending it with a caption.

WindQueen.exe (5:22): heading to battle

WindQueen.exe (5:22): if i don’t survive, avenge me with memes

WindQueen.exe (5:23): and maybe emotionally scar the enemy

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (5:24): already have the soundtrack queued

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (5:24): no one will be spared

You didn’t respond immediately. You just stared at the screen for a second longer than you should, smiling like a fool.

Then you stuffed your phone in your pocket, your headphones blasting soft music in your ears, and headed out to the train station.

You sent a message to Zayne, wishing him a good morning and asking him to keep you updated on all the hospital’s drama. He sent you a picture of you— that truly wasn’t your best angle— where you were giving the lens a side eye with a smug expression.

You chuckled before putting your phone away and tried to find a place inside the train.

After succeeding in your noble quest. You opened your bag and started to write today’s training.

You were in the university’s basketball girl’s team. You were the captain, and you wished to bring this team to the championship. That’s why you needed to make sure the gymnase was reserved for your team today.

The girls in the team were good, nice, and even cute sometimes. You weren’t close enough to them to call them friends. A few of them were really interested in playing basketball, they others were mostly there because sometimes, the boy’s team would train with you.

And, of course, Caleb would be there.

A yawn escaped your lips, forcing you to hold your hand on your mouth. You were more exhausted than you believed. The ride to SkyHeavan was mostly two hours… Maybe you could sleep for forty-five minutes, and then prepare for today's training…

Yeah…

‘Next stop: SkyHeavan.’

Your eyes snapped open. The voice repeated the sentence you thought was in your dream, but no.

The train was coming to your stop. Your notes were empty. And you were still sleepy.

Fuck.

You quickly grabbed your things before dashing out of the train. You must have looked like a lunatic. Your eyes were still burning from the lack of sleep, your hair must look like a bird's nest, and you could feel some drool on your chin.

You quickly took the bus that brought you to your apartment. You quickly left your suitcase iin your bedroom and took a quick shower to wake you up before dashing to the university.

Now that most of the exams were over, not a lot of students were on campus. The ones staying were the ones who had obligations or were studying for the next semester’s exams. You knew you had just one week of break before going back to your lessons… just one week…still better than nothing.

A sigh of relief passed your lips when you noticed the girls waiting for you in front of the gymnase. They waved at you while you smiled at them, opening the gym with the key which had been given to you when you started this year.

You gave orders, talking about the championship. It was your last year together. You wanted to win this trophée.

After an encouraging speech, the gym’s echoed with sneakers squeaks and half-hearted laughter as your team started their warmup up. You adjusted your hair, focused, already planning plays in your head. Even if you didn’t have the time to organise anything during your ride to SkyHeavan, at least you slept enough for you to have ideas for your girl’s training.

Then: the door creaked open. Heavy foot steps. Familiar voices.

”No way..”

”It’s the boy’s team…”

”Caleb’s here—“

You didn’t even look. You heard the shuffle, the whispers, the giggles… then Caleb’s voice, casual as always.

"Didn't know we were double- booked.”

Translation: We want the court, move.

“That’s because you weren’t booked at all. We reserved the gym.”

You crossed your arms as your teammates were already starting to drift toward the sidelines, blushing and brushing their hair behind their ears like they were in a teen drama instead of training for the championship.

“Unless you hacked the system,” he said, voice low and smooth.” I’m pretty sure that’s mine.”

”Captain…” one of them murmured, “ it’s fine we can cut a little short—“

”No, we can not.” Your voice was sharp, not yelling, just.. undeniable.

Caleb walked toward you with his phone in his hand. You frowned as he showed you his screen. In front of your eyes were the schedules for the gym’s reservation. Today’s session… was reserved for the boy’s team.

You took his phone out of his hand, making sure it wasn’t a joke. Why? Why? you booked the reservation this morning on the train—

Fuck, you fell asleep before you could do it.

You turned to face him. Caleb started down at you, knowing no one could see his face as his back was facing everyone.

He smirked at you like this was a joke he was already winning. He leaned toward you until his lips brushed your ear.

”Now, you can shut up and fuck off.”

Murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal…

“ Caleb, why don’t you all play against each other?”

Caleb looked behind him, and then you saw her. His pipsqueak… She was looking at him with hopeful eyes while Guideon was laughing behind his hand. You could hear your teammates gushing and giggling, excited about the idea of playing against Caleb’s team.

” Pipsqueak… It’s not reall—“

” Come on, Caleb! And I would like to join the girl’s team too!”

You tried not to laugh at that. Your team, as distracted they could be, was on a level that made you reach nationals. You knew Caleb’s girlfriend wanted to be a hunter but… being a basketball player and a hunter was two different things.

Caleb scratched his neck before smiling at your team with a sorry expression.

”I’m sorry.. If it’s okay with you… could someone sub out for my—“

You groaned when you heard your teammates squealing in joy. Thank god, some of your girls were walking toward you, serious about playing against Caleb’s team. You weren’t ready to admit it out loud, but that would be a better training than what you had planned.

The court was split.

Lines drawn. Teams chosen. And somehow, because the universe had a shitty sense of humor, you ended up guarding him.

Caleb.

Again.

You didn’t know why his girlfriend didn’t want to guard him. Wouldn't that be a cute moment ? So why was she guarding Guideon?

Caleb played hard. Like he was trying to make a point. Every pass was sharp. Every drive was fast. He didn’t go easy on your team— even less on you.

He scored twice in a row, grinning like he already knew you were mad. And you were. But you wouldn’t show it.

Not yet.

His girlfriend called for the ball, and you passed it— a bit too quickly— and she fumbled it. Guideon scooped the ball before she could react. He passed it to Caleb, who pivoted midair, landed a pass with a snap, and his teammate scored.

”Nice assist, pipsqueak!” He laughed, facing his girlfriend and messing her hair. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault.’

So it was yours, maybe? You sighed, trying to keep your head cool.

Your team was getting frustrated. Even Caleb’s girl wasn’t smiling anymore. Your chest tightened.

Fuck it.

You let a gust of air slide under your shoes— just enough to give you a lift as you broke past Caleb and landed a clean shot.

He eyed you across the court.

Grinned.

Then, he messed with gravity.

The next time you go up for a shot, your legs are dragged, heavier than they should be.

You landed hard.

You knew it was him.

”Real subtle.” You hissed as you passed him.

”Don't start what you can’t finish.” He muttered back.

Oooh, it’s on.

Next time he drove toward the basket, you twisted the air — just a breeze, subtle, under his feet. He stumbled for half a second. Not enough to fall. But enough for you to steal the ball.

Your teammates on the bench cheered for you. His eyes found you again— a little surprise. A little impressed?

A lot annoyed.

”Cheating again?” He muttered as he passed you.

”Playing smart.” You shot back.

His girlfriend wasn’t that bad. She truly was trying and had good ideas. She was trying harder than some of your teammates. She called for a pass, and you didn’t know why you hesitated. You gave a shitty pass that made it out of the court.

”Sorry”!” She sighed. You could see she was truly annoyed by her mistake, even though it wasn’t her fault this time.

”All good, it was my fault.” You waved it off, tight-lipped. What was wrong with you?

Caleb noticed it. His jaw tensed. You could feel it— like gravity had eyes now. He got the ball again. Drove harder. Shoved past you, barely legal contact. The kind of shove that made you stumble and caught yourself before running after him.

”Relax,” he muttered under his breath,his whole body tensed.” Or is this about your new teammate?”

You glared at him, breathing hard. You didn’t have the time for his bullshit.

”This isn’t about anyone.”

”Right.” He smirked. “ Totally not acting like you’re one bad pass away from setting the court on fire.”

The match kept going, and in the end, other students started to come inside the gym to watch the game.

The ball landed in your hands. Caleb was guarding you. Just you and him.

The court noises faded— your teammates shouting, shoes squeaking, his girlfriend calling your name from somewhere far behind. None of it mattered. Not right now.

Caleb stepped up to guard you, and for a second, he wasn’t laughing anymore. No smirk. No taunt. Just eyes locked on yours, heavy with something you couldn’t name— something between challenge and accusation.

”Come at me.”

You didn’t answer.

He was fast. You were faster. The wind curled under your soles, a quick assist, but he felt it. The gravity shifted— your feet suddenly a fraction heavier. It was like you were running through syrups.

You shoved harder. Air lashed around you in a ripple. Your evol brushed against his like a current slamming into a wall.

Push. Pull. Lift. Drag.

Neither of you said a word; but every move screamed.

He blocked your path. You twisted. He shifted the floor beneath you. You pushed back with wind so sharp it raised the edges of his jersey.

”Are we still playing basketball?” He growled low.

”Afraid to lose?”

You pivoted. He mirrored.

You jumped.

He raised the ball’s gravity midair.

You countered with a sudden gust— trying to push the ball against his gravity.

It was raw, deseperate, and precise.

The second your fingers brushed the ball, your evol surged. So did his.

Air and weight collided. The gym’s lights flickered. The ball, pushed by both of your evol, is sent in the air with too much force. Too much speed. It escaped your control, and you could only gasp as it flew right into…

Guideon’s face.

”Fuck!”

Fuck.

Everyone ran toward Guideon, who was holding his bloody nose. You quickly grabbed your bag and gave him tissues while apologizing a hundred times.

”What the fuck is wrong with you two? Since when are we using evols for a friendly match?” Guideon winced as you tried to wipe the blood from his chin. Caleb is already using the phone in the gym to call for the infirmary.

After a few minutes, Guideon was taken away to make sure he was okay.

You sighed, grabbing a bottle and drinking the water you so needed. You could hear Caleb and his girlfriend talking about Guideon, hoping he was okay. You glanced at them and couldn’t help but feel envy as you watched Caleb hug his girlfriend.

Their touches weren’t romantic, but you could definitely feel a deep bound between them.

You wondered how it felt to be loved and cherished…

Your phone was still on the bench, and after hesitating for a second, you couldn’t help but send a message to your friend in Discord.

WindQueen.exe (11:34): i manage to take down my enemy's minion.

WindQueen.exe (11:35): might need help to defeat his boss

“It was a good match! I’m sorry I was so slow, but what can we do about it, Caleb was the one who trained me.”

You turned around and faced Miss Futur Hunter. She was beaming at you, blushing a bit. You could see she was nervous, you wondered why. A glance to your left, and you could see Caleb, his phone in his hand, staring at you.

Was he afraid you were going to hurt his girlfriend? Why was he always looking at you like you were a loaded weapon he forgot to disarm?

“You have good reflexes.” You nodded at her. She seemed disappointed you didn’t want to engage in a deeper conversation with her.

You took your stuff before walking toward the showers. You were sweating so much… Ugh..

The sound of Caleb’s chuckle made you pause. You glanced at him, surprised to see his face coloured by a light blush, his hand hiding his smile while he was staring at his phone.

You raised your eyebrow.

If you were his girlfriend, you would be jealous to see him react like this to someone’s message… Or maybe he was watching cute videos of puppies?

You went into the locker room and quickly went under the shower. You sighed in delight as the warm water fell upon your skin. You took your phone with your dry hand and quickly played music randomly.

You quietly hummed the lyrics, moving under the water.

That song was very catchy…

After drying yourself, you shared that song with your friend in Discord and realized he had answered you while you were showering.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (11:40): that’s my girl :)

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (11:40): now, give me a date so we can get rid of your final boss

You bit your thumb, trying to keep your smile in check. You almost felt confident enough to send a picture of you but decided not to. That was maybe… a bit too much. You walked back to the locker room to get change.

Your teammates were laughing, doing their hair, and taking selfies. Talking about the boy’s team like they were celebrities instead of classmates. You tied your laces tighter than necessary.

”Did you see how Caleb looked in his jersey today?”

”I’d give up a whole practice slot for that smile.”

You almost threw your water bottle at the wall. No matter what you’ve done— how hard you’ve trained, how hard you’ve fought for the team— they always melted when Caleb showed up. Did they forget that you managed to bring them to the nationals; that you fought against the teacher so you could train in they gym.

” Girls, you know we have a match in two weeks. Caleb has a girlfriend, please be respectful about it.”

You said in a cold voice before leaving the locker rooms while your teammates winced at your tone, feeling ashamed.

You walked toward the university, trying to find an empty room to… to be alone for a little while. You stopped when you heard a familiar song… The one you sent to your friend in discord… it couldn’t be…?

”That’s a good song, Caleb!”

You peeked into a room and stared at the scene. Caleb is sitting on a desk, music coming from his phone while his girlfriend is doing a TikTok with the song playing. You sighed in disappointment and also relieved…

Maybe you really were not ready to meet him..?

You stared at Caleb. His face had a fond expression as he tapped on his phone with one hand, his head moving to the beat of the song. His other hand was busy tapping on the desk he was sitting at, humming the lyrics.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (11:56): oh i love it :)

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (11:56): in our playlist it goes

You left the two lovebirds, smiling down at your phone while walking to find another empty room. After walking for ten minutes, you decided to sit on the stairs. You kept talking in Discord with your friends, adding more and more songs to your playlist.

Your phone buzzed, and your expression fell a bit as you saw your dad’s contact appearing on your screen. You sighed before taking the call, a small smile on your lips.

”Yep, dad?”

”How are you feeling, sweetheart? Did you arrive at SkyHeavan? everything went well? Did you take your pills?”

“I’m good. I took them this morning. You sound exhausted.”

”Yeah, well, work… I’m happy you’re feeling well. I’m worried about you.”

You looked up to the ceiling. You wondered if your father saw your mother in you. She died a long time ago, and he never talked about her… Never. You had asked Zayne to sneak into the hospital’s archive, but nothing.

Wasn’t it suspicious enough?

Your mother used to work in the fleet, and then she died. That was the only thing you and Zayne managed to find out. That’s why you were aiming to work there. To have your answers.

Someone asked for your father, and you could hear their calm voice.

”Dr.Noah (…) we need…”

Your father quickly said bye to you with a quick “I love you don’t forget your pills” before hanging up. You sighed before standing up. It was time for some library study.

After five hours of study and a bit of daydreaming, you made sure you knew everything. You stood up and decided to go to the outside basketball court. It wasn’t big, a little bit far from the campus…

The moon was already in the sky, the lights were buzzing faintly overhead, half the court cloaked in the shadows. The court’s surface was slick with the day’s leftover heat, the air quiet except for the soft thud of the ball against the pavement.

You’ve been shooting for… who knew how long. Long enough that your hands were now aching.

The silence was comfortable.

Until it wasn’t.

You heard footsteps behind you, measured, deliberated. You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it is.

”What, stalking me now?”

”Was about to say the same thing.” Caleb replied, stepping into view. He was in a hoodie, sleeves pushed up, hair damped from quick rinse. His eyes found the ball in your hands, then the sweat on your face.

”Didn’t get enough earlier?”

You shrugged and bounced the ball once.

”Didn’t feel like a win.”

He stepped onto the court slowly, like he wasn’t sure if you were going to shout at you for coming close to you. But you were tired… You didn’t know about what. You didn’t want to fight tonight.

He was closer now. You could feel the subtle pull of gravity shifted— not because of his evol. Just him.

You passed him the ball. Hard.

”One-on-open. No teams. No distractions."

He caught it easily and smiled— not cocky like usual. Just… tired… like you.

”Which side are you on?”

You paused. The wind stirred around you like it was trying to whisper an answer. This question seemed way deeper than you expected. He was surely asking which side of the court you wanted to play on… and yet it seemed much more meaningful… But you couldn’t grasp it.

“ First to five?”

Caleb spun the ball in his hands. It was slower now, like he was not here to win…

” No evol this time, just skills.”

”Afraid of a little breeze?” You quirked a brow. You didn’t want to admit it, but you just wanted to play without feeling like you needed to think about everything, your team, your lectures, your pills…

”Terrified.” He deadpanned. “ You might blow me away…Or I might catch a cold.”

You smirked despite yourself, already stepping into position.He dribbled forward— light on his feet, smoother than he was during the game this morning.

Less aggressive.

You matched him step for step, mirroring every motion. Your evol stirred automatically, but you kept it in check.

Still, you felt him - the subtle drag of the air shifting around him, gravity bending every so slightly when he pivoted.

And you wondered if he was holding back too?

The points came and went,quietly.

You drove left. He let you.

He faked a shoot. You called his bluff.

No score keeping. No trash talk.

Just breathe. Movement. Silence thick with meaning that you couldn’t understand.

You took your shoot, and Caleb let you. He stared at the ball, which didn’t even touch the net as it went inside. You both were breathing hard, staring at the basket without saying anything.

Caleb turned his eyes toward you. Those eyes that weren’t warm for you, weren’t soft. They were calm, still cold… but curious. You wondered, did Caleb hate this much because of one mistake you made during your first years? Because you injured his precious girlfriend by mistake?

”You seem different … more different than I expected.”

”What did you think I was?”

” Dangerous.”

You laughed once— soft, bitter. You walked to grab your basket, taking your bag before looking at him.

” Do I seem dangerous to you?”

You should leave.

You should turn your back,storm off the court, and let him think he had won— because staying there meant he would see he had hurt you. It meant staying in a moment where your pulse didn’t calm down and your lungs felt too full.

You .. dangerous…?

You could almost hear your father’s voice asking you if you took your pills. Every day. For your security.

Did you take your pills? Did you take your pills? Did you take your pills? Did you take your pills? Did you take your pills? Did you take your pills?

For whose security?

The ball was rolling somewhere near the edge of the court. Forgotten.

The wind had stilled around you, like it was holding its breath.

“ I don’t get why you hate me so much, Caleb. You don’t even know me.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, jaw clenched tight. He seemed tired, torned by his own emotions… What was he hiding?

“That’s the problem,” he muttered, “ I do know people like you. You end up hurting the one I’m trying to protect.”

You blinked.

Was it about his girlfriend again?

The implication was sharper than any blow.

“If you’re talking about your girlfriend, I never wanted to hurt her.” Your voice started to shake. Why did you care so much about his words?

Your heart beat against your ribs like it was trying to escape. You wrapped your arms around yourself, but it did nothing to quiet the ache under your skin.

Then, without meaning to, you said it:

“If I’m so dangerous... why didn’t you just walk away?”

The words hanged in the air.

You didn't expect an answer.

And for a moment, he didn't give one.

Then—his voice low, like he hated himself for saying it:

“Because something in me keeps wondering if I’m wrong.”

He was still watching you — all fire and edges, arms crossed like he was holding himself together with stubbornness.

You were about to walk away.

You needed to walk away.

But then he said it.

Low. Sharp.

“Whatever those pills are, they’re not for relaxation.”

You froze.

The word hit like a punch to the gut.

“What did you just say?”

He didn't back down. Didn’t blink.

“I saw them. Your bag was open during practice this morning. I looked.”

The world tilted for a second. Did that bastard look through your stuff… And for what?

Your chest tightened.

“You... went through my stuff?”

“Yes.” He shrugged, but his voice was cold, controlled. “And the bottle had no label. No pharmacy. There is no record in the school med system. Just your name. And your father’s signature.”

You felt like you were going to kill him.

“Those are just focus pills,” you snapped. “I take them to control my evol. My dad, he’s a doctor. He knows what I need.”

“Yeah, he knows exactly what you need,” Caleb muttered bitterly with a smirk.

You shoved the words down — the confusion, the hurt, the humiliation.

“You think I’m dangerous. You think I’m lying. So you spy on me, search my bag like I’m some kind of threat?”

He stepped forward, eyes sharp with something that looked too much like desperation.

“I'm wondering now. Do you know that doctors need to write the name of the medication they give..”

That stopped you.

He walked toward you, hands in his pocket while his eyes never left yours. You felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. He was staring down at you like he had all the answers, and you were just a naive sheep waiting to be sacrificed.

“Ah, but I guess a doctor from Ever wouldn’t care about it.”

Ever..?

The words hit something deep — something you didn’t have a name for yet. Your father was a doctor, a respectable one. He would never work with Ever.

Never.

Yet, you couldn't open your mouth.

Your father had created those pills to help you with your evol.

You never left like you didn't control it.

He didn’t want you to suffer from your evol.

You never suffered from it.

He loved you.

He didn’t care about you. He only cares that you take these pills.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to vanish.

You wanted to believe he’s wrong.

But a seed of doubt has already taken root.

You left the court without another word. No goodbye. No second match. Just the quiet shift of your steps on the path back through campus.

Your legs ached. You didn’t want to go back to your apartment yet.

Your eyes were burning from the tears you refused to share with the world.

You were just tired, and Caleb was messing with your head. That was it.

So you find the tree. Your tree— a huge, knotted thing near the edge of campus that hides you from everything. The roots curved just enough to become a seat. The branches above you rustled faintly as you sat back against the trunk, staring at the stars through the leaves. you closed your eyes, letting the world around you lull you to sleep.

You didn’t know how many minutes— hours?— passed before you pulled out your phone and opened discord.

There he was. Your safe place.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed— online.

You snapped a photo of the grass, the edge of the tree trunk visible, and of course, you made half a heart with your fingers.

WindQueen.exe sent a media (22:09)

WindQueen.exe (22:09): world’s quietest therapy session

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:09) : wait wait wait

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:09): you mean this tree?

Grav1ty.D3n1ed sent a media (22:10)

You blinked and looked at his phone, and your mouth went dry.

Because it was the same tree. Same roots, same cracked bark pattern.Same tiny carved initials near the base but… from the other side.

Your fingers froze above your keyboards. Then, three blinking dots. He was typing again.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed ( 22:12): you’re kidding me

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:12): are we literally sitting on opposite sides of the same tree??

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:13): dont panic, do you want me to leave

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:13): even if i want to meet you, i can leave with my eyes close i promise

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed ( 22:15): do you want me to leave, tell me please

WindQueen.exe (22:16): stay

Your eyes traveled to the grass, and you saw it.

A hand.

His hand— slowly pressing into the grass, palm open, fingertips brushing the clover between the rots. Not reaching toward you… but just being there. Close enough that if you wanted, you could…

No one said a word.

The discord window glowed faintly in your lap. The blinking cursors mocking you about your inability to react to this moment.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:20): we cant hug right now so… can i hold your hand?

He wasn’t peeking around the three. You weren’t either.

Your fingers shifted from your phone to the earth. You reached around the thick curve of the trunk blindly until your hand brushed his.

You felt him tense, but he didn’t move.

You tapped his palm with your fingers. You chuckled when you saw his message of discord.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:23): Are you trying to kill me, woman?

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (22:24): my hand must be so sweaty, sorry

His finger closed around yours.

Warm. Smooth.Real.

The night deepened. The air is cooler now, brushing against your skin like a whisper. You were still holding his hand.

You didn't know if he could hear your sniffled, but he didn't text anything. He just kept holding on to your hand, squeezing harder and harder.

And you were squeezing back.

You were so grateful for his presence after this horrible evening. You didn't know if he was a student here or just passing by... but you were grateful..

His hand was still in yours.

Neither of you had spoken in minutes. The Discord chat sat open between you — a final few messages just waiting to be answered. But the words stopped being enough the moment your fingers touched.

And now, the silence said everything you were too scared to type.

The wind shifts through the branches above you. The leaves shivered. Your heartbeat felt too loud.

Then he moved.

Just a slight shift — a squeeze of your hand. And then… his fingers started to pull away.

Not fast. Not cold.

Just… gentle. Careful. Like letting go might hurt if he did it wrong.

But you both knew it’s time.

Neither of you said it out loud.

Your thumb gave his a soft, slow squeeze — the kind you didn't do with strangers.

Then your phone lighted up.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:10); i should probably head back

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:10): before the grass permanently imprints on my spine

You laughed softly — just under your breath.

WindQueen.exe (23:11):tragic

WindQueen.exe (23:11): you’d become part of campus folklore

WindQueen.exe (23:12): the ghost of the tree boy

A pause. And then:

Grav1ty.D3n1ed ( 23:13):…you’d visit, right?

Your heart fluttered — light and aching.

WindQueen.exe (23:13): every night, I would bring snacks. and sarcasm.

Another beat of silence. Your fingers didn't let go yet.

Then his last message appeared:

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:15): same time, same tree, next time?

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:15): no pressure

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:15) only if you want to

WindQueen.exe (23:15): as if you could put pressure on me

WindQueen.exe (23:17): Goodnight, my little ghost

And finally, slowly, his hand pulled away.

You didn't look.

You didn't move.

You just sat there —heart full of something you couldn't name,phone screen dimming, hand tingling like it remembered his.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:19): i can't stop smiling...

Grav1ty.D3n1ed (23:20): im such a loser

You giggled, tilting your head back against the tree.

Grav1ty.D3n1ed sent a media (23:20)

You stared at the picture. It was the tree where you were sitting. You were behind it, so you weren't on the picture, but your heart melted at the sight.

And as always, half a heart with his fingers.

You took a picture of the tree and made the other side of the heart with your fingers. You sent it with a caption.

WindQueen.exe sent a media (23:22)

"For my loser."

---

Taglist: @xyzbeloved @deepspace-fishie @floofycookie @silmeria-lafleur @pagesfalling @noxus123 @sylusgirlie7

[3amfanfiction]

Escaping the Cult ch 4

You’ve spent years hiding from the cult you escaped from. It’s a nasty surprise when your past comes for you and pins you to the wall. Simon x reader

cw: 4.3k, angst, reveals, we see how Johnny comes into play, (hinted at) and there was one bed.

First || Previous

Things settled into a tentative rhythm over the following week. You saw Simon off to work each morning before you left as well, still searching for something to help ease the financial burden. The only new addition was Johnny. With the exchange of numbers, you had a new texting buddy.

And you were texting frequently.

It was a no brainer to invite him around to the next laundry day. Having a friend to sit with while the machines worked sounded amazing compared to awkwardly sitting there by yourself for hours.

"You know, I forgot to ask. I know you just got to town, but are you all by yourself?" asked Johnny as he was tossing a load into one of the washers. Paying and pressing start, he turned to you as the machine began to hum. He was wearing a t-shirt that had gone thin with age. When he crossed his arms it stretched across his chest and shoulders leaving you fighting to you keep your eyes on his face.

"No, not alone. My,"—you paused for a moment. How would you describe Simon? The person you wanted so much more with. Deciding to play it safe, you settled on—"friend is with me. But it's just us two."

"Must be lonely," he responded.

You shrugged your shoulders as you started your own machine, the whir and sound of rushing water bouncing off the concrete walls, surrounding you in stereo, "It's not too bad. Plus now I have you. Seems like I'm moving up in the world."

He laughed, "That's right, you've got me." His smile was disarming as he turned it on you. "So what made you pick up and move? And to here of all places," he gestured around to the lackluster facilities.

"Just needed a change of scenery," you hedged before quickly changing the subject, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "Do you want to come over for dinner?" you asked, realizing this would be the perfect time to introduce the two people in your life. You hoped Simon liked him just as much as you did. You'd be heartbroken if they didn't get along.

You knew how Simon came across. His size and the deadpanned stare a difficult barrier for some people to get across. It intimidated them. You could only hope that Johnny saw him like you did. The antisocial man with a propensity for bad jokes who tended to loom subconsciously.

"I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"It's not an intrusion, I insist. Please come for dinner tonight, Johnny."

"All right, then." And that was it settled.

—

The sky was beginning to turn dark despite the decent hour when you made it home, the lights peeking around the heavy curtains showing Simon was already home, today being a short day for him. He was working too much but there wasn't a whole lot either of you could do about that. It was just something to be weathered.

Johnny was walking next to you, carrying a grocery bag. You'd stopped by the store on the way home to pick up a few items for the night. You were giddy as you opened the door and invited him in already envisioning how the friendship would change between the three of you, how you hoped everyone got along.

"Simon, this is my friend—"

"Johnny," Simon cut in standing quickly, his face draining of color. You watched as his eyes widened then shuttered, closing himself behind a wall.

Johnny looked nearly gleeful at the sudden revelation. "Simon," he crooned, "I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you again."

Your back felt like a steel rod had been inserted as you broke out into a cold sweat at this unexpected situation. "You two know each other?"

"Aye, and I know you too," he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders to keep you tucked against his side when you shifted a half inch to the left, as if you were going to bolt. "I didn't realize it at first—you changed your hair, it looks good by the way—but as soon as the door opened and I saw Simon, I realized."

You looked at Simon, eyes begging for his help even as he stood there, cool expression showing fissures where his panic was slowly creeping through. His gaze darted back and forth between you and Johnny in horrified realization. You tried to pull away but Johnny pulled you tighter to him, squeezing firmly.

"Price is pretty angry with you two," he continued like you were having a regular discussion. Friends standing around chitchatting. "He about destroyed his office when you slipped out, Simon. Decided the two of you would be a bad influence if you were allowed out and about and you were to be brought back. No exceptions."

You didn't want to see Price angry. Just the thought of it was enough to send shivers down your spine and give you nightmare fuel for the week.

"We're not going back," you worked up the courage to spit. You wouldn't. You'd rather die than go back. Back to Price's control. The way you couldn't move without his say so, the constant breathing down your neck. No. You wouldn't be going back.

"Didn't figure you would. Not after you worked so hard to get out and to keep hidden." He allowed you to shift away just far enough to make eye contact.

"Then why are you here?"

You couldn't name the expression that crossed his face as he pinned you in place. "See, Simon and I had something special. Something that he felt wasn't worth anything when he decided to go on a rabbit chase and hunt you down. And that didn't sit right with me."

"I ended things, Johnny," Simon stepped in, voice steady despite the panic you could see brewing in his eyes as his gaze darted from Johnny, to you, back to Johnny. "I told you it was over."

I ended things. I told you it was over.

You felt like you'd been sucker punched twice over, lungs struggling to inflate as you attempted to make sense out of what you'd heard, nausea swirling in your gut at this new admission.

It'd always been you and Simon. Always. You thought that wouldn't have changed, even if you left. Not even the courtesy of telling him it was over, unlike his own relationship. Your chest lurched at the thought. But you still expected it to be the two of you. You didn't expect him to move on. To find someone else.

Your stomach churned and you worried that you might be sick all over Johnny's shoes. Would serve him right. He'd deserve it for thinking he could take Simon away from you.

Wait. Did he pursue Simon or was it the other way around?

Would it matter either way?

"No, you jotted down a note on a scrap piece of paper and left it for me to find. Not even the common decency to tell me in person." His voice started to raise, going tight in his anger.

"It felt best."

"Best?" Johnny practically shouted before reining his voice in once more. "Nae, ye did what was easiest. Easiest for you, ye big bastard." His accent slipping through more sharply as his anger heated. You tried once more to shift out of his grasp but all he did was grip you tighter, keeping you locked into place beside himself. "Was I something that ye jus' filled time with? Something to keep yer bed warm until ye left?"

You couldn't be here. You couldn't hear this.

Simon's face was stoic but you could tell he was stricken, each word a missile aimed straight at him. He wasn't looking at you anymore, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Johnny, the coward.

"It wasn't like that." Simon tried, voice infuriatingly steady in the wake of Johnny's accusations.

"Well then explain it to me because clearly I'm too dumb to understand."

You felt torn. You were so mad at Simon for moving on that you wanted to rage just like Johnny was doing. Curse and yell and maybe throw a few things. But the longer you listened to the heartbreak slipping into his voice as he begged Simon for a sliver of understanding the more your feelings shifted.

Was Simon playing with you? Playing with the both of you? You never would have thought him capable of it but he clearly destroyed Johnny. Got him all twisted up in his own head. Did Simon do that on purpose?

"You can't tell Price."

"You don't get to tell me to do anything, don't you understand that?" Johnny shouted, finally letting you go to gesture wildly, arms swinging around in his anger. "You left me like I was trash, left me to pick up the pieces and you're not even sorry about it."

Heartbroken and hyperventilating, you took the opportunity to dart out the door directly behind you, letting it slam shut in the wind as you bolted. Picking a random direction you ran, arms pumping, chest heaving as you tried to get away. Away to find someplace to think.

A rundown convenience store sat right around the corner, offering the perfect place to hide. Darting in, you took shelter down one of the aisles and peeked through the storefront windows. You watched Simon stalk past, Johnny following shortly behind him as they passed your hiding spot.

You watched them, tucked away in the store, a shuddery breath of relief your only comment once they were gone. You needed time. Time to think, to get your head on straight. Time to figure out what you were feeling and you couldn't do that with them here.

Why were you so hurt that Simon found another partner? Why did it feel like your world was ending? Caving in around you until the rubble compressed your chest, leaving no room to draw breath. And Johnny knew Price? How? He must've shown up after you left. Stepped in to take your place, one could say.

No, it wasn't that Simon found another partner, you didn't think. You twisted the thought around and around, examining it from every angle but it didn't fit. It didn't feel right. Almost but not quite the right flavor.

You thought back to when you and Simon were younger. How you two were attached at the hip, never one without the other. The days when there were no secrets between the two of you, thoughts shared almost as soon as they were had. You trusted him, you could tell him anything.

That was the right chord. It was that he did it without you knowing. You were aware of how ridiculous that sounded—you had left him. Ran away. He had no means to contact you to ask. And maybe it was naive to think he should have waited for you, but you felt betrayed.

You felt like he hid it from you.

As if he was afraid of how you would react when you found out. Admittedly you weren't handling it the greatest right now but that was because of how you found out—the way the secret was broken. It would've been different coming from Simon.

Having spent long enough inside for the men to be long gone you crept out, avoiding eye contact with the cashier who stared at you through bloodshot eyes and a sour disposition, your hands empty and his till count remaining the same.

It was the work of minutes to make it back inside the motel room, blessedly empty of anyone else. Collapsing down corner-to-corner on your bed in exhaustion, you stared at the water-stained ceiling and let your mind wander—thinking about the events of the night and what led up to them.

What were you going to do? What were Simon and Johnny going to do? Were they going to pick back up, right where they left off? Would Johnny tell Price?

Had he already?

You were so tired of running. Of always looking over your shoulder. You were running along the tracks with a train barreling down behind you, gaining ground with each step you took. Was this the day it would finally catch you?

The door slammed open a short while later, Simon the first one back. The lack of Johnny directly behind him told you they had split up in the time they'd been out. You wondered where the other man was. Simon looked harried, his jaw was clenched and his eyes hard. It had been a while since you'd seen him like this.

"Stop. Fucking. Doing that shit." He snapped, brows drawing lower as he frowned down at you. "You always run. It's fucking annoying." He swiped at your feet until you straightened out with a huff, laying in the bed correctly before he moved to lay beside you.

"I wasn't running. I just needed a bit of space. I wasn't expecting to find out you had a long-lost lover," you couldn't help but say bitterly. You were salty. You knew you probably shouldn't be but you were and he was going to have to deal with it. "One you never bothered telling me about."

"I wasn't aware we were sharing those kinds of details," he retorted stiffly, going rigid beside you. He had to have known this conversation was coming and still it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk.

You didn't bother responding for a moment, letting him sit in the silence that built, not eager to be the one to break it. As the minutes ticked on though, you realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step, Simon always the one for self-flagellation.

"I wasn't running from you," you began hesitantly, words pried out from behind your teeth, "so much as I was running from the situation."

You kept your gaze firmly pointed towards the ceiling. "I wasn't expecting for you to have found a whole boyfriend while I was gone. And one you didn't tell me about at that. I thought we told each other everything," You finally turned to look at him but he kept his face pointed up, "It feels like you hid him from me for some reason and I can't figure out why. Were you ashamed of him or of me?"

"Neither," he responded quietly but firmly. "Not ashamed of either of you. It was just—"

"Just what?" you asked when he trailed off.

"I had no clue if I was ever going to see you again," he continued. "I came home one night and noticed your lights were off. The next day you were nowhere to be found and I was left to pick up the pieces."

He swallowed dryly, "I didn't go looking for a relationship. I was scrambling trying to keep Price from taking off someone's head while toeing the line of the lockdown he instituted, just trying to keep my own head above water. I was drowning and then here Johnny came swanning in like he couldn't sink. He pulled me up. Talking to him felt like I could breathe for the first time since you left."

His eyes traced the whorls and stains of the ceiling, finding patterns in the abstract. "He was like you. Able to set my head on straight, able to see past all my bullshit. Somehow understood me. So when he kissed me the first time, I kissed back. It wasn't fair to Johnny but I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"Well you did," you say as your eyes flood with tears. You reach up to angrily wipe them away. "Where is he anyways? I'd figure he wouldn't let you out of his sight," you were eager to change to the subject to something less fraught.

"I convinced him we wouldn't leave. That we'd see him tomorrow and we could talk it all over with clear heads," he sighed into the darkness, sounding exhausted. "It felt best."

A hum in response was all you could offer him as you lapsed into silence.

It was a long time before either of you found sleep.

—

Morning came far too quickly, the light peeking around the heavy curtains to throw sunbeams across whatever it could. You hadn't even had a chance to brush your teeth before there was a knock at the door.

Simon answered, letting Johnny in who had his hands full with food and coffee. He didn't bother to smile at Simon as he made his way inside but he spared a small, weak one for you. "I brought breakfast."

The dark circles underlining his eyes and the slight shake of his hands made it clear he'd been up all night. "Did you get any sleep?" you couldn't help but ask, worried despite yourself. He'd become a good friend in the time you'd known him and it hurt you to see him hurting.

He set the bags down at the little table and began unloading, "I figured you two might bolt in the middle of the night," he said without looking at either of you, voice dull, "Seems to be your modus operandi." Pulling out a sandwich for himself, he sat back and unwrapped it, taking a bite before making eye contact again.

You couldn't say anything to that because he was right. It was. Silence fell as the sounds of chewing filled the air. Johnny didn't bother to look at Simon, keeping his gaze on you or his sandwich, the silence stifling. Simon didn't bother saying anything, content to sit in the heavy silence looking unbothered, a mask having dropped over his face, locking all his feelings inside.

Your heart broke a little more when you saw how torn up Johnny was. How distraught this had him—his blue eyes dull, lacking the shimmer you thought was inherent. He looked worn down and it broke something inside you when you realized you were a part of it. That your choices helped lead you all here.

The food was nearly gone when the silence was broken once more, Johnny saying out of the blue, "I didn't tell Price."

Simon finished chewing before he responded, taking his time in answering. "That gonna change?"

"I don't intend for it to."

And just like that a weight seemed to have lifted off both men's shoulders, some truce having been reached you could only see the surface layer of.

—

You'd been looking at houses to rent, something that could hold the three of you comfortably but it had been slim pickings. You had two incomes now with Johnny included, something that should've given you a bit of breathing room but it didn't seem to help your situation. But you knew you had to do something soon. Johnny was looking worse by the day.

He was consumed by thoughts of you leaving. Of Simon and you packing up in the middle of the night when he wasn't aware, of him coming to the motel the next day to find an empty room, no sign of either of you. It ate at him. His dark circles had their own postal code by this point. Something you hoped moving in together would alleviate.

He had actually been the first one to bring up the idea of cohabiting. He'd been subletting a room over a business, a small cramped thing that barely had enough room for him to unpack. And the motel was out of the question, the price eating away at all of Simon's paycheck every week, an expensive and also tight option. The only viable solution was renting a house together.

"I've been looking for houses for us. Nothing's come up yet."

You choked on your food, coughing before taking a drink of water—washing it down with a pat to your chest. "Houses?" Simon questioned while you gathered yourself, shooting you a worried look until you waved him off.

Johnny turned to look at you while he answered, still not speaking to Simon unless he had to, offering a cold shoulder whenever possible. "It doesn't make sense for us to pay for two places. We need to find something that works for all of us, so we can start putting money back."

You nodded in acknowledgment, eager for something to break the status quo. Looking between the two men, you offered, "That makes sense to me."

Simon hummed a neutral agreement and that was that.

And you were still jobless. You were beginning to think the locals were doing it on purpose. Pulling any jobs as soon as they saw you walk up. You must've walked the town at least 5 times over in the weeks you'd been here. But still nothing.

You walked into the bar closest to the motel only for the bartender to yell at you as soon as you crossed the threshold. "Still don't have a job for you," she called out over the noise of the television behind her head playing a local game. You sigh in disappointment before nodding your head, spinning on your heel to head back out to continue your search.

You'd reached the door when you thought to ask, "Do you know of any cheap places to rent?" with no expectations as to the answer. You wondered if you were going to live out the rest of your life in the motel, forever confined to one room, sharing space so completely you were always bumping elbows. You had hopes of finding a small house for the three of you but that was looking more and more like a pipe-dream with every day that passed.

You were barely listening when the bartender said, "Yeah, actually. I have a place that's looking for renters," but your attention was quickly returned. "It's on the outskirts of the town," she continued, "the last tenants moved out a few months ago but it's sturdy. I've been looking for someone for it."

It seemed things were finally looking up. It was with an eager, thankful grin that you discussed price and set up a meeting time to go and see the house. You were exuberant as you thanked her, eager to tell the other two of your unexpected windfall.

You wondered if this might ease the tension between the two men. Johnny had yet to warm up to Simon, maintaining a cold exterior any time they had to interact. You'd be worried about it if Simon wasn't so unconcerned. You'd caught him doing the equivalent of rolling his eyes enough to know he wasn't particularly worried about Johnny's ire. That he saw it as something to weathered, as if it was likely soon to change. It was enough to keep you from rocking the boat.

It was a few nights later that saw the three of you greeting the bartender out in front of a little bungalow sitting on the outskirts of town. It was clearly weathered but the roof was whole and there were panes in every window.

"Go on in, take a look around," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the side of her car, feet crossed at the ankles. "It's fully furnished, let me know what you think."

Johnny was the first one through the door, letting it swing closed behind him, not bothering to hold it for Simon.

Standing directly behind him on the porch, you heard the huff of a sigh he let out at Johnny's actions before he opened the door and gestured you through it. You smiled up at him in thanks and commiseration as you passed.

Johnny called for you from the back of the house, asking you to come look at something. Making your way over, you walked down the short hallway at the back of the living room to see three doors. One opened to a bathroom and the other two held small bedrooms, each barely able to accommodate the queen beds shoved in them.

"Only two rooms," he said neutrally, letting you make your own assumptions.

You looked up at him wide-eyed, "Who's rooming with who?"

You jumped with a shriek at Simon's voice directly behind you, not having heard him follow you. "Johnny and I'll take the primary, you can take the other," he said, leaving no room for arguments. Decision made.

"What do you mean we'll be rooming together?" Johnny frowned, speaking to Simon for the first time all day. "We will nae. We'll be looking for a place with another bedroom." His voice was irate, high and sharp as he flung the words at Simon.

Simon didn't react beyond responding in an even tone, "This is what we can afford and this is what we have. We don't have a choice in the matter. It's this or we stay where we are," he looked Johnny up and down, taking in the wan cast to his skin and the way he was slouched in the door frame, as if he was too exhausted to stand up straight. "And that's not tenable."

Johnny looked like he was going to argue, blue eyes glinting before he bit his tongue, a war being fought behind his eyes before seemingly coming to a resolution. You heard him mutter under his breath as he turned away—Why is God always testing me?

You pretended not to hear as you looked up at Simon. "So this is the one?" At his nod you continued, "Then I'll go let her know we'll be taking it."