#it’s been 3 months and nothing sounds appealing

[medievalthymes]

wow i love books. would sure love to read one some day.

[ja3yun]

please be real | p.js

ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3

A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.

Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.

Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.

“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.

“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.

You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.

“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”

“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 

This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 

Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”

Jay. Park Jongseong.

It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.

Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.

It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.

But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.

And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.

Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.

Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.

The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.

His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.

“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.

As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.

Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.

Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.

“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.

With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 

You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.

As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 

He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.

As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.

With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.

An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.

Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.

As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.

He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.

Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.

"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.

He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.

It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.

Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”

“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.

Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.

"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.

His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.

With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.

"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.

Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.

You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.

“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.

"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.

You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 

With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.

"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."

Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.

But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.

Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.

Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.

You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.

_____

Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.

You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.

It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.

Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.

As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.

You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.

As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.

Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.

Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.

“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.

Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.

You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.

Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.

As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.

His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.

“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 

He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.

But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.

“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”

Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 

"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 

His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.

With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.

Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.

You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 

Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.

You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.

“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.

_____

Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.

Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 

Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?

He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.

As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.

Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 

Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.

“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.

You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 

All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.

He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.

The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.

Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.

As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.

"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."

You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.

The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 

All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”

“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.

"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."

You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.

But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.

You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.

“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.

Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”

It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 

“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”

Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.

“That’s okay.”

“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?

"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"

Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.

But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."

You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.

"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?

Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.

So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.

"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.

In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 

"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.

"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.

Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.

You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.

His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.

You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.

It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.

Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 

The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 

You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.

He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.

Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.

"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.

With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.

Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.

"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.

With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.

You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.

You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.

As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.

“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.

Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.

But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.

“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.

“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.

Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”

“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.

Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.

With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.

"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 

Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.

"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"

You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."

Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.

"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.

The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 

Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”

You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.

You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."

With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."

As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.

Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."

In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."

Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.

With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.

“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.

After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.

Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.

As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.

With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.

In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 

His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.

After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 

But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.

He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.

“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.

You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”

“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.

The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 

Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.

You need one another to extinguish the fire.

“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.

“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 

Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.

His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 

He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.

“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”

He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 

You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.

Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.

“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.

Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.

“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.

So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.

Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”

You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.

“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.

So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.

[cactus-cuddler]

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

[gojo-enthusiast]

Your Birthday (R)

Series: My Husband Toji Zenin

November was a great month in your husbands eyes, 1. The weather cooled down, which meant he would go and watch the boat racing comfortably. 2. The food. And 3. Your birthday. Despite your husband being a rough calloused man, your birthday was very important to him. Showering you with gifts, fancy dinners, sex, the kind of sex YOU like. Your birthday he wouldn’t even think about getting pleasure, just pleasuring you. But you always would insist on him cumming with you, saying that it made you happy.

You woke up later than usual, your eyes heavy, and your body groggy. “Good morning Doll.” Toji said sweetly, handing you your favorite latte from your favorite Cafe down the street. “Oh baby.” You smile. “Food is on its way, Chicken and Waffles.” He smiles, “My faaaavorite.” You emphasize the favorite, stretching your arms out for a hug. Toji engulfed you, swelling your body into his embrace. “Get up, go shower, and by the time you get out, your food should be here.” He kisses your forehead. “Yay okay!” You jump up, already hearing the shower running for you.

You get out the shower, wrapping yourself in a robe. “Toji?” You say out loud, not seeing him in the bedroom. “Satoru, I understand this is a very important account, I have showed them floor 87, at least 4 times now. They either need to sign or move along—“ Toji is saying to Satoru over the phone. “Satoru, it’s my wife’s birthday.” He says back. “I don’t care if it’s going to take an hour, that’s an hour taken from my wife.” Toji spits back, you could see his left fist clenching on the granite. “Why is this not something you can handle?” Toji hisses, “I don’t give a fuck if they want me. Take the damn contract, I don’t want it if it’s going to take away from my time with my fucking wife!” He shouts. “Fuck— I’ll be there in 45 minuets. You owe me.” Toji spits out, hanging up on Satoru. You laced your arms around his waist, making him flinch from surprise. “You have to go to work?” You kiss the middle of his back. Toji turns around, picking you up, you wrap your legs around his waist. He plants his lips onto yours, deepening the kiss. “Toji—“ You moan out. “Fuck, don’t sound like that. You’ll make it harder for me to leave.” He throws his head back, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry.” You kiss his jawline. “Satoru is gonna get it.” Toji groans. “I gotta go.” He huffs, walking into the shared bedroom. You start to eat your breakfast, drenching it in syrup. “I hope he’s quick.” You think to yourself. A few minutes later, you see your husband in a dress shirt, slacks and his dress shoes. You see him clamping his watch on, and he has a button unbuttoned that gave more of a chilled yet professional look.

“No.” You say. “What?” He questions. You saw the way his biceps bulged, and the way his ass was firm and perky in his slacks. “You look so sexy oh mah gad.” You say, with syrup falling from your lip. You’re practically drooling at this point. “Ill be back princess.” He says wiping the syrup from your lip, and licking his thumb. “Oh no, please don’t leave.” You groan. He was just so god damn sexy. “Oh no wait hold on!” You shout out, chasing him to the door. “Please of god please let me take a picture.” You groan. “Princess, I have to go.” He says. “Just one second please.” You smile, grabbing your phone, and snapping a photo of him chuckling. “Oh my god, Toji. I will have this engraved in my mind for eternity. I love you so much.” You dramatically say. “I love you doll, I’ll be back soon. I left my card on the dresser, go have fun.” He smiles, leaning down, kissing your lips.

You spent part of the day going to little shops in town, Toji wanted you to spoil yourself, but nothing really was appealing to you. Until you found a matching pajama set, buying that and some coffee, you looked down at your Apple Watch, seeing that it had been three hours since Toji left. “I miss him” You frown. You feel your phone buzz, you pull it out, seeing your friends Chrissy is calling, so you answer. “Hey!” You smile, “Hey bitch— happy birthday! Whatcha doing?” She asks, “Oh I’m at the town square next to my house. Toji is working unfortunately.” You say. “What! No! I’ll meet you there, I’m like 5 minuets away!” You friend says.

And thats how you spent your day, you and your friend went to store after store, window shopping, eating pastries, and heading back to your house to watch movies. “When will your man be home?” Chrissy says, “honestly I thought he was supposed to come home earlier, so I don’t know.” You frown. You love your friends, but you had much rather spent the day with Toji. A couple hours go bye, you hadn’t realized you fell asleep on the couch, you look beside you and Chrissy is not around. You grab your phone checking the time—

Chrissy: hey babes, you fell asleep so I let myself out. Have a good birthday! Love ya!

You set your phone down, seeing it was 11PM. You hear the lock on the door click, which means your husband is home. You perk up, seeing your distressed husband, with his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his hair looked like he had been running his hands through it, which he usually does when he’s stressed.

“Hey my love.” You say softly, embracing him as he takes his shoes off. “I missed you.” You whisper, smelling cigarettes all over his clothes. “Doll, I smell of cigarettes and sweat.” He groans, peeling you off of him. “Let me go shower.” He says in a hush tone. You had followed him to the bathroom, and watched as he unloosened his belt, and peeled off his dress shirt. Standing there in his boxers, you saw his manhood that was clearly throbbing all day. He pulled them down, letting his cock spring right out, you saw the way he was leaking, and how it twitched just standing there. “Baby, I love you.” He eyed you. “I-I love you too.” You said, feeling the lump in your throat. “I want to make you feel good, I really do. I want to give you the birthday you deserve, especially sex. But I really need to have my release.” He groaned as he stroked his cock. You instantly undressed yourself, slipping in the shower before him. Signaling for him to come on in, and join you. “Fuck—“ he groaned, he stepped in, and instantly held yourself against the bar in the shower and bent over. “All for you.” You side eye. “Fuck, baby are you sure?” He says, placing his tip on your core. You nod in agreement. He slowly begins to push himself inside of you, and in an instant, he fully thrust in, not even letting you adjust. He began to thrust brutally, chasing his own release. You moaned and cried at the stretch. It felt so painfully amazing, you arched your back, and let him hold your waist as he fucked you raw.

“Yes— yes Toji.” You moan, you knew you would wake up the next day and wouldn’t be able to walk, but in the moment it was all you wanted to feel. He begin to thrust at a certain speed that kissed your G-spot so perfectly. Making you moan out. One thing about Toji, is he is a brutal man, he loved to watch you cry as he fucked you, he was feral when he did so. He heard a silent sob come out of your mouth, he spun you around and picked you up. “You cryin?” He groaned. “N-no” you said as the water sprayed your face. Toji’s manhood still throbbing, he hadn’t released yet. “FUCK!” he shouts. “Dry the fuck off now.” He spits out, both of you stepping out of the shower. You hurriedly rush drying off, he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, slapping your ass ungodly hard. “Ah! Toji!” you yelp. “Shut the fuck up.” He hissed. You could tell he was fuming, not at you. His job, Satoru, the fact he couldn’t spend your birthday with you. And the only way this man could let it go, was either drinking, or fucking you, or both.

Toji lied you on the bed, then walking out the room. He came back with a bottle of wine, already opened. Taking a swig. “You want some?” He huffed, you nodded. “Words!” He shouted. “Yes sir.” You say, knowing that is tipping over the edge. He pours some in his mouth, then grabs you by your neck and head and you open your mouth, letting the wine trickle in your mouth into your throat. He was trying to ease you, you knew what he was about to put you through wasn’t going to be the loving man you’re so used to, it was in this moment you understood why he was fucking other women after he got off work on a stressful day. The last thing he wanted to do, was put his sweet wife through a brutal fucking.

“I’m going to fuck you. And you will have to handle it.” He kissed your forehead sweetly. “Yes daddy.” You nod, a little wine dripping down your breast. “Fuck.” He groans. “Open your fuckin mouth.” He hissed, you did exactly as he said, he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip. Then he shoved his cock deep into your mouth and throat. You knew how to take your husband’s cock into your throat, but it was a surprise, and you weren’t ready. But getting fucked by Toji, you don’t get that chance. He begin to fuck your mouth, forcing your head against his base. “Mm” you groan against his cock, you felt yourself struggling to breathe, he pulled you by your hair to look up at him. He had the phone camera in his hand, as he used your hair to control your movements. “Such a dirty little slut.” He groans. “Fuck just like that.” He groaned as he felt you swirl your tongue around. He finally pulled out of you, and you finally catching your breath.

He pushed you done, instantly putting your legs over his shoulder, fucking you raw. “T-To-!” You moan out loudly. “Hush.” He said stuffing a finger into your mouth. “Your pussy is talking to me.” He said, thrusting faster. You moaned out, sucking on his finger, he pulled out, flipping you around, instantly fucking you from behind. He leaned down, sucking on different spots of your back to mark you all up. He then turned you side ways, fucking you even deeper and harder. “Toji please slow down.” You moan, feeling your body is about to break. He then put you back on your back, fucking you fast and choking you lightly. “Fuck!” He would hiss, slapping your face, not hard enough to hurt, but also not light enough to not feel it. He leaned down, his face over your face. “Pussy feels so good.” He groaned. Planting kissing on your neck, and then marking you all over. You knew when you woke up, you would find hickies all over your neck and chest, which meant you were not to leave the house unless you want to be stared at. You hadn’t realized how much of a possessive man Toji is.

He slammed into you as one hand started to playing with your clit, and the other one was holding himself up. “I’m gonna cum. Take it.” He groaned, “toji it’s too much.” You cried, tears pulling down. “No— take it slut. I’m gonna fuck you until you give me a child. Fuck—“ he groaned, “Toji, baby please.” You cried, your body spasming. You just needed him to slow down a little. But Toji was feral, your tears were only fueling his desire. “Fuck yes—“ he groaned loudly, rubbing your clit faster, slapping your pussy. You begin to spasm, feeling your legs give out. And that’s when it finally happened. He came deep inside, while you squirt and creamed all over his cock. He continued the rub, while you clawed and cried for him to let go. You lost all your strength to even speak, just sobbing in pure ecstasy. You had been satisfied sexually from your husband, but never in this way. Toji was sending you the straight overstimulation, erupting a second orgasm, making you squirt again and again. “Fuck yes you dirty fucking whore.” He moaned out, fucking his seed deep into you. “Take that, take all of it.” He hissed, pulling you into his lips, kissing your fucked out face. Your body went limp, you no longer could move, but you feel everything. “Fuck!” He hissed, fucking you again, wanting another release. He did that for 10 minutes, while your body spawned and you sobbed. He kept fucking you until he came 3 times, and you passed out. Finally peeling himself off of you, and seeing he had completely fucked out his wife.

“Shit!” He groaned, seeing the way his seed spilled out of your cunt so deliciously, he scooped it up, pushing it back inside of you. “You’re gonna make me a father.” He whispered into your ear. “You keep my babies inside of that tight pussy.” He said, kissing your temple. You felt as if you weren’t even a person anymore.

You woke up, and you were lying in the bath with your husband behind you, he was washing your hair. You dozed right back to sleep, you couldn’t even comprehend anything that was happening. You woke up again to the sun slowly peeking through the window, you were engulfed in your husband’s embrace, you both were naked and clean.

“You okay doll?” Toji muttered. Your body ached, and you felt bruised everywhere. “I feel as if I was hit by a car.” You groaned. Feeling the way your cunt was throbbing and sore. “I’m so sorry doll.” He kissed your forehead. “I have never wanted to do that to you.” He groaned. Hiding his face in your hair. “Is that what you did to the other women?” You asks innocently. “Doll.” He said quietly. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” You said kissing his jawline. “Yeah.” He huffed. “Well I’m grateful I’m the only one who gets to see sweet Toji. Because I don’t think I could handle mean Toji everyday.” You giggle. “I’m sorry baby.” He embraced you. “It’s okay. It felt amazing, it was just a lot for me to take.” You giggled again. “I promise I’ll make it up to you— once you… heal.” He groaned, feeling his cock start to ache again. “Toji!” You slapped his chest. “It’s alright, I’ll do it myself.” He chuckled, pulling his cock out, fisting himself. While you drifted off to sleep to the sweet sounds of your husband groaning your name.

[sequinsmile-x]

Eros - Part 5

Emily wasn’t surprised that she’d started to sleep with one of her professors, but she was surprised that she’d fallen in love with him.

A Hotchniss AU.

-x-

Hi friends,

Somehow 10 months have gone by since I last updated this fic, and then I got an anon about it. People seemed to really miss this version of them, and I did too, so here we are with another part.

If you'd like me to go back to updating this more regularly please do let me know <3

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She loved watching him teach. 

It did something to her, unfurled a desire that felt deep in her blood as she watched him command a room with nothing more than his deep voice and a simple raise of his eyebrow. It reminded her of when they first started sleeping together, when it was completely forbidden - quick fucks in his office after class. Clandestine and fast as she scratched marks into his desk that she knew were still there. On some level, she missed it. She missed the secrecy, the sneaking around that came with it, how it heightened everything to the point where it would drive her crazy.  

She smiles when his eyes meet hers, somehow spotting her in his busy classroom where she is standing at the back, her arms crossed over her chest and her book bag slung over her shoulder. 

She missed the secrecy sometimes, but what she had now was infinitely better. He was kind and loving. He listened to her and took care of her in a way no other partner ever had - even the ones who had been older than him. She could see them going the distance, and was planning on finding a job nearby when she finished her masters in a couple of months.

The idea of Europe, of being far away from him, was no longer as appealing as it once had been.

She jumps a little when the bell goes off, the sound louder than it usually was since she was just below it, and she smiles as Aaron dismisses his class. She tightens her shoulders, sees how some of the students look at her and then whisper to each other. Their relationship was no secret on campus, and she was sure people were aware it hadn’t started only when she started the master's programme - something Aaron had nothing to do with. 

The staring, and the gossip, made her oddly grateful for her upbringing. She’d been taught how to ignore it before she had even started first grade. 

She walks over to him as the last student leaves the room and hums happily as he leans in to stamp a quick kiss against her lips, “Hi sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” she replies, kissing him again before she steps back, making sure to keep some space between them in case someone walks in, “You ready to go?” 

He nods and picks up his briefcase before he eases her bookbag from her shoulder, smiling as he purposely ignores the way she rolls her eyes at him but lets the bag go without comment, “My tux is already at yours, right?” 

Her mother had invited them both to an event she was hosting, and Emily couldn’t think of one good reason to get out of it. Elizabeth had only met Aaron once, a few months ago, when Emily was in the hospital. She’d very purposely kept Aaron and her mother apart ever since then, but she knew she couldn’t forever.

Not when she was sure her mother now understood the nature of how their relationship would have begun. 

“Yes,” she says, grimacing at the thought of their evening plans, “But…” she adds, leaning in towards him, making a point of looking up at him through her long lashes, “We could always just stay at mine,” she says, her smile getting wider as he swallows thickly, his gaze lingering on her lower lip when she wets it with her tongue, “Miss this evening entirely.” 

He leans in and kisses her cheek before he pulls back, “Your mother invited us both,” he says, smiling when she groans, “We should go. Then you can have your way with me when we get back to your place.” 

She scoffs and walks alongside him as they leave the classroom, “You used to be fun.” 

He holds the door open for her and takes the opportunity to lean in close, to press himself against her as she slips out into the hallway, “Later I’ll show you just how fun I can still be.” 

___

Aaron looks around the ballroom curiously, his focus shifting between the groups of strangers scattered around.

He was sure there was more money in this one room than he’d ever get to see in his lifetime.

It was strange to think this was Emily’s world, that this was the environment she’d grown up in. She simultaneously fit it, her grace and elegance and poise making her seem like a natural, and seemed out of place too. This wild, beautiful thing of a woman who had never quite been able to be what her mother wanted or expected. 

She was what he wanted though, and he’d long gotten over any shame or embarrassment over how they’d met. He knew people had their opinions, that they would continue to do so as they moved forward together, but he didn’t care anymore. 

He loved her. Even if he hadn’t told her that yet. 

He wanted to, the words on the tip of his tongue at any given moment, but he always held back. A tiny bit of him laced with insecurity that she’d find someone better, that he’d feel like nothing  short of a lovesick fool when she did. It was a bad attempt at trying to protect himself, his heart still not quite healed from the divorce that had let him jump into something with Emily in the first place. 

“Here you go, honey.”

He smiles as looks up at her and takes the glass of champagne she offers him. He takes the opportunity to look her up and down, to appreciate the dark red dress she is wearing. He’d seen her naked countless times, but there was something about seeing her like this, about the thin straps resting over her collarbone and the split that showed just a little too much of her left thigh that was driving him crazy. 

“Thanks, Em,” he says, sipping his drink before he looks around, “This is…something.” 

She chuckles and steps closer to him, making sure she’s standing next to him so she has the same view of the party that he does, “I’d give this a solid 5 out of 10 on the scale of parties Mother can throw.” 

He raises his eyebrow at her, “Really?”

She hums, “Oh yeah, the ones the President comes to are always much fancier,” she says, laughing when he chokes a little on his drink. She looks over at Elizabeth and groans when she sees her making a beeline for them, determination in her step whilst she carries on talking to the man with her. The man who just so happened to be Emily’s ex-boyfriend, “Oh here we go.” 

He wraps his arm around her, pulling her back into his chest as he kisses her shoulder, smiling into her skin as she shivers, turning her head to narrow her eyes at him.

“It will be fine sweetheart,” he assures her, and she hums, taking a large sip of her champagne as Elizabeth continues to make her way from the other side of the large ballroom. 

“Says the guy who’s only met her once.” 

He smiles and kisses her cheek, making sure his voice is low so only she hears him, “To be fair though, that one time was in the hospital after you cracked your ribs after shower sex. And when she learned you have your nipple pierced.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groans and turns to look at him again, her irritation dulled as he kisses her, his lips quickly stamped against hers. Any further conversation is cut off as Elizabeth finally makes it to them, a smile on her face Emily knows is fake.

“Emily, Aaron,” she says, her hands folded in front of her, “Lovely to see you both.” 

“You too, Mother,” Emily says, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, “Thank you for inviting us.” 

Elizabeth smiles and then turns to face the man next to her, “Mark, you know Emily of course, and this is Aaron.” 

Mark smiles and reaches out, shaking Aaron’s hand before he kisses Emily’s cheek. It makes something in Aaron’s chest burn, jealousy bubbling low in his gut as he tightens his hold on Emily, making the space between them even smaller. 

“Nice to meet you,” Mark says, clearing his throat as he stands back, “How did the two of you meet?”

Before Emily can answer, Elizabeth speaks over her, “Oh Aaron here is a professor at Emily’s university,” she says, smiling politely at her daughter as she carries on, “Emily was in his class.” 

Emily clenches her teeth together, her jaw tight as she swallows down her irritation, knowing Elizabeth wants a reaction from her. In another world, another lifetime, where they had a more typical mother-daughter relationship, she’s sure that on some level she’d understand her mother’s criticism of her relationship with Aaron. She’d appreciate that her mother was worried about her, that the age gap, albeit on the small side given he was a professor, and the power dynamic was a concern. But their relationship wasn’t like that - it never had been - and Emily had long outgrown the need to have her mother’s opinion on something. 

“Aaron teaches the undergrads,” Emily says, maintaining eye contact with her mother for a second before she turns to Mark, “I’m in the masters programme.” 

They all know she’s leaving out the fact she had been an undergrad when they’d first got together, but none of them says it. They make tense, but polite, conversation for a few minutes before Elizabeth moves on and Mark leaves shortly after, making an excuse that he’d seen his parents and that he wanted to say hi to them. 

As soon as they are alone again, Emily sags into his side, grumbling so only he can hear her, “I knew she’d bring it up.” 

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her temple, “We thought she knew - now we know she does,” he runs his hand up and down her side, the rasp of the material of her dress against his fingers something he could focus on, “Who was that Mark guy?”

“Oh, I dated him during my freshman year.” 

He frowns as he pulls away, the jealousy back in full swing, the simmer turning to a boil, “What?”

She smiles as she looks at him, “No need to be jealous, Aaron. It was years ago now. And…we mutually broke up. He was…nice.” 

“Nice?”

She nods and wraps her arm around his, placing her glass down as she leads him to the dancefloor, “Just nice. Kind of boring. The type of guy my mother would want me to end up with.” 

He chuckles, the familiar insecurity building in his chest, his anxiety that he wasn’t enough for her making itself known, “And I’m, what? More than nice?” 

She smiles as they make it to the dancefloor, immediately pressing herself closer to him, her arms linked around his neck as she uses the proximity to kiss him, sighing into it when his hands settle on her lower back. 

“You’re a lot more than nice,” she says, stamping a kiss to his lips again as they begin to sway, lost in each other, “You’re everything I want.” 

He pulls her closer, his hand firm on her lower back as he kisses her, “You’re everything I want too.”

___

He’s all over her the moment they get into her building. She encourages it, leans into the grasping touch, desperation in it she knows is lingering jealousy from their brief conversation with Mark. 

She also knows he’s distracting her, that he could sense the tension only her mother could bring out in her all evening, and she’s grateful for it. Grateful for him. 

She gasps as she tries to open her front door, her grip tight on her keys as he kisses her cheek and then her jaw, nibbling at the sharp edge of it with his teeth before he licks down her neck. She gets them inside, the door slamming closed behind them, and she turns in his embrace, her hands on his cheeks as she pulls him into a kiss, swallowing down the groan he lets out.

Aaron pushes her against the nearby wall, trapping her between him and it. He runs his hand up her thigh and hooks it around his waist, smirking against her throat when she gasps when his palm presses against her skin.

“Love this dress on you,” he grunts out, “Fucking gorgeous.” 

She looks him up and down, her smile slightly wild as she takes him in, “You don’t look bad yourself in that tux.” 

He grasps her chin to hold her in place as he leans in to kiss her fiercely, tilting her head as his other hand traces her inner thigh, his fingers ghosting over her underwear groaning when he feels the soft damp material. 

“So wet already,” he says as he pulls back, smiling when she chases the kiss, “Bet you’ve been like this all evening.” 

She rests her head against the wall, the thump of it echoing around them, as he rubs her clit through her underwear, “Since I came to your classroom.” 

He grins as he pushes her underwear to the side, groaning as he feels the heat of her, running his fingers back and forth through her slick, “You like watching me teach?”

He knew that already. Had known it since they first started having sex. She’d come to him after class, desperate and ready for him as she’d kiss him before his office door was even locked. She nods, pushing her hips against his hand as he continues to tease her, ghosting over her clit, his touch too gentle, barely there and infuriating. 

“Aaron-” she growls, but she’s cut off as he slips two fingers inside of her, her irritation turning into a moan, “Yes,” she closes her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of him when he starts to pump his fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit the spot deep inside of her that only he’d ever been able to each, “Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.” 

Part of him is tempted to tease her, to use his knowledge of her body to bring her to the edge and then stop, to drive her to that point again and again until she is begging, but he can’t. He wants this - to pull her apart - to remind her that she was his. Not Mark’s. Not anyone else's. His.

He makes quick work of it, pumping his fingers in and out of her, circling his thumb around her clit. It feels like he’s pulling pleasure from her and all she can do is grip his arms, her nails digging into him through his tux jacket. He groans as he feels her tighten around his fingers, and he leans in to kiss her, licking through her mouth as she gets closer to the edge, swallowing down the way she chokes out his name. 

When she comes she’s grateful he’s pressing her so tightly against the wall that she can’t fall, the one leg she has on the ground giving way. She rests her forehead against his and lets out a breathless chuckle.

“Fuck you’re good at that,” she says kissing him again as he pushes her dress up over her hips, his hands on her thighs, fingers slippery with her, as he encourages her to jump, her other leg wrapping around his waist, “So good.” 

Aaron carries her to her bedroom. He tugs at the zipper running down her back and she pulls at his bowtie, letting it fall open before she turns her attention to the buttons on his shirt. She grumbles in frustration when she can’t undo them, her fingers still shaking from the orgasm still thrumming in her veins, and she pulls at the material, buttons scattering across the floor. 

He chuckles, kissing her cheek as he lowers her onto her bed, “This tux is a rental.”

She smirks at him, something settling in her gut when she smooths her hand across his chest, the press of his skin against hers soothing, “I’ll pay the fine.” 

They get undressed quickly, clothes and shoes scattering across her bedroom floor before she pulls him on top of her, sighing when he settles into the cradle of her hips, matching groans escaping them as he notches against her.  She reaches between them and pumps him up and down, smirking when a punched out groan escapes him, his breath skipping across her face. She guides him into her, her eyes rolling back at the familiar stretch, her hips stuttering against his. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he says, resting his forehead against hers, grasping at her thigh again as he hooks it around his back, “So fucking good.” 

“You too,” she gasps out, rolling her hips against his, desperately trying to encourage him to move, every nerve in her body an edge, “Please move, I need you to move.” 

He starts to move, his lips against hers before he makes his way down her neck, biting at her collarbone before he rests his forehead against it, getting lost in the feeling of her, of how she was clenching around him. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, kissing every bit of skin he can reach, his hands grasping at her thigh and waist and anywhere he can touch, “So perfect, and all mine.” 

“All yours,” she breathes out, her hands on his back, scratching at his skin as she tries to get him impossibly closer, “Yours.” 

He moves them, pulling out of her and flipping her over, pushing back in before she can even react. She pushes herself up on her elbows, shuddering at the feel of him from this angle. He felt impossibly bigger like this and it overwhelms her, his body draped over hers as he links his fingers through hers. He presses his chin into the top of her head as he grabs her face, tilting it upwards so their eyes meet as he continues to thrust into her, stealing the breath from her lungs. 

“Aaron…” she says, her entire body shuddering, her eyes fixed on his as he brings her closer to the edge, “I’m so close, I’m so fucking close.”

“I know you are baby,” he soothes, kissing her forehead, “I can feel how tight you are,” he sneaks a hand between them and rolls her clit between his thumb and finger, growling when she clenches around him, “Come for me.” 

Her elbows give way when she comes her face pressed against the mattress as she muffles a scream. Her orgasm triggers his, and he comes deep inside of her, grunting her name as he grips her hips so tightly he knows she’ll bruise. 

She chuckles as he slips out of her, falling onto the bed next to her. She turns her head to look at him, smiling when he reaches over to brush her hair from her face. 

“You okay?” 

She hums and nods, shifting closer to him, curling herself around him, “I’m more than okay.” 

He kisses the top of her head as he pulls her closer, their skin sticking together with sweat as she settles into his embrace. They lay in silence for a few minutes, the only sound in the room their breathing slowly evening out. 

“Tonight was…” he starts, drifting off, “Interesting.” 

She chuckles and tilts her head to look up at him, “That’s one way of putting it,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry about my mom.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Em.”

She hums and reaches for his hand, linking their fingers together, “If our relationship was different, if she was a normal mom, I’d understand her issue with us,” she says, lifting their joint hands to kiss his knuckles, “Fuck, if I have a daughter one day who I found out was seeing one of her professors, I’d have an issue with it.” 

He can’t explain why, can’t rationalise it, but all of a sudden he’s picturing a girl half him and half her, all defiance and fire as she argued with them about why it wasn’t okay for her to sleep with a professor when that’s how they’d met. The thought of it makes him smile, makes the love he has for the woman curled up in his arms warm him from the inside out. 

“Anyway,” she says, resting her head on her hand as she looks at him, “I don’t want to think about my mother…” she says, stamping her lips against his, smiling when he tightens his hold on her, “I just want to think about you.” 

He grabs her, swallowing the yelp she lets out as he settles her on top of him, “All I ever want to think about is you.” 

-x-

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One Night Stand

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; strangers to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter Three ; wc | 6.5k

primarily on Wattpad

Chapter Three

index ⇢ next chapter

"Okay now this is so fucking amazing! he really decided to choose me of all, this was unbelievable but- also what the heck?" You speak to yourself, walking side by side in your living room while you bite your nails and look at the damn email that you received.

Congratulations on Your New Role as Graphic Designer

Dear Ms Lee Y/L/N,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to extend my heartfelt congratulations on being selected for the Graphic Designer position at Jeon Industries.

We are thrilled to welcome someone of your talent to our team. Your portfolio speaks volumes about your ability to bring fresh and innovative ideas to our projects. We are confident that your expertise will significantly contribute to the success of our design team and elevate the visual appeal of our brand.

As you prepare to embark on this new journey with us, please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or if there's anything you need to facilitate a smooth transition. We believe that your unique perspective and skills will be invaluable to our ongoing projects, and we look forward to seeing the positive impact you will undoubtedly make.

Once again, congratulations on this well-deserved achievement. We are excited to have you on board and are confident that you will thrive in your role as a key member of our creative team. If there are any preliminary tasks or preparations required before your start date, please let us know, and we'll be happy to assist

Best regards,

Lee Y/L/N

Graphic designer

Jeon industries

See, the mail looks inviting, warm, exciting, and a mix of emotions rush inside your system. It's happiness as well as nervousness and anxiety. Like you're unsure of this yet. It doesn't sound very accepting yet, especially after you've seen the CEO himself. "they really did not have any choice?" You ask yourself and sit on the couch. As you give it thought, it also sounds funny. Remembering your now CEO, Mr. Jeon. You think that he probably has had many nightstands in his life.

It isn't surprising, as he's like every other man who has his needs, besides he's also good-looking and very rich. chuckling, you mentally slap yourself at the though of him fucking other women. "Sounds so fun!" You tell out loud, planning to hook up with someone sooner again. But with work now, you don't think you'll find the time especially after the phone call you received by an unknown number that was from Jeon Industries,

informing you that they need you present tomorrow to sign the contract and immediately begin work as the recruitment process had taken way too much longer than planned and the new project coming up needs you to be a part of the innovations too. That definitely scares you, thinking about how you're gonna work tomorrow and it being your first day sounds so hectic but now you've got nothing to care about except the job. You've finally been recruited after working at multiple cafés for a small salary. saying goodbye to the few friends you made at the cafe wasn't too bad considering how the friendship lasted for just about 3 months. you changed jobs a number of time so it wasn't a big deal neither was it too sad. 

But working your passion, graphic designing is all that you've been wanting, and when the opportunity grabs your hand, all you've got to do is hold it back and tighten it to your palms. Leaving your phone on the couch you moved to your bedroom, grabbing the outfit that you're gonna wear tomorrow so you could iron it with no creases since you must look presentable on your first day.

You're gonna meet the other employees, see everyone there so you must look amazing too. Considering how elegantly the women looked when you first entered the Jeon building for your interview they walk around with files in their hands, their identification card around their necks and their heels clicking on the tiles, carrying them confidently.

You picked out a black turtleneck and wide leg pants that were grey to match with your top. It was classy and simple enough for your 8 hour shift. Dinner was down too, you weren't very good at cooking even though your mother passed down her old recipes to you in her cookbook that's probably somewhere inside a drawer, dusty and torn papers. You're not the cleanest person you know and you are also not one to treasure stuff, the cook book was your moms precious item but it's hidden under tools and you're the least bothered about it. So you stuck to eating food from the convenience stores down the street as it's open 24/7. It's one of the best parts about Korea, having stores open every hour and having a wide range of food to choose from.

It's amazing and there's always something new to try, it's fresh too and keeps you healthy or that's what you think. You missed out on it while you were at college because even though you were born in Daegu and your parents are from Daegu and Ilsan, you three moved to Canada at a very young age due to most of your family migrating there and also for financial purposes since your dad worked there for years and basically lived in Canada all his life even after marriage until he decided to move his family there so he wouldn't have to transfer money and was also welcomed home to his wife's and daughter's presence.

Preparing for bed, you picked up your favourite book 'shatter me' that you've been hooked on the past few days, it's a better way to fall asleep than viewing social media at night. The words blurred a bit while you read, until your eyes completely shut so you placed your book at the night stand and turned to hug your plushy so you could sleep well.

-

You are glad that the loud sound of your alarm broke your sleep and hurried you to dress up. you're glad that your apartment has a close distance to the building you are now working at. It's just a few kilometers and that allows you to be calm. When you stepped into the building, you were guided by the staff member to the CEO's cabin. You take a deep breath before you step inside the room to see the man seated on his chair, in his tailored black coat that was put around his chair leaving him with his shirt and inner waist coat. He was typing into his mac book and when you walked in, his eyes flicked to your figure then back to his screen.

The man who guided you here, whispers over to you to take a seat and pay attention to Mr. Jeon's words. Jungkook looks at you when you've finally settled on the chair, he pushes his mac book down and looks at you with his dark hooded eyes that look empty. Before his eyes could meet yours, he saw the fumbling of your fingers, that portrayed your nervousness to him even though your face showed no sign of anxiousness. He looks into your eyes as yours bore to him. One thing he now knows is that alcohol does shit to people but he doesn't think it affects you much because even though your breath reeked of champagne and your movements assured him that you're so fucking drunk, he can still see the same person seated in front of him. Only a bit more contained and disciplined and who speaks with respect.

"How have you been, Ms Lee?" He questioned you with an intimidating voice, he now places his arms on the table as his palms join together while he glares at you. His stares do make you flush but you avoid thinking about it so the effect doesn't show itself on your face. "Very well, Mr Jeon, how have you been?" You replied to him, keeping up an affirm tone, to hide back your anxiousness that slowly creeps up in between seconds. "Likewise." He responded confidently while his fingers drummed on his table that definitely didn't go unnoticed by you, his slim fingers looked gorgeous and were so beautifully molded.

The man tossed a file in front of you after questioning your wellbeing. "Read this carefully, and sign it if you agree on the terms and conditions and are fully aware of the employment contract." nodding at his words, you open up the document and progress to read each page not missing out on a single word. You don't want to make any mistakes so you go slow and steady with this, as it's the first step.

You signed the papers when you found everything okay, it was all fine and you agreed on all rules and information listed. "If you have any questions, proceed to ask Mr. Jung. He will give you a tour around here. You may leave." He muttered as he got back to his work, opening his mac and typing what he left incomplete. His tone was not something you were a huge fan of, it was arrogant, you could see it but he was also so full of attitude and full of himself. He spoke a handful of words and they were already too painful for your ears. You stood from your chair, bowed at the man before leaving the room.

You left out a loud exhale and walked out of the room. Mr Jung, the man with parted hair, full suit and a long face stood beside you after you walked out, he chuckled when he heard you sigh. "We all feel that when we meet Mr. Jeon. Let me give you a tour of the building" He guided you to the elevator, taking to you on level 31, just one floor below Mr Jeon's office. As the elevator opened up, you could see how well focused and quiet this department was. You walked along with Mr Jung, and he led you to your area.

"So this is the most important department, the graphic designing department, since our company Jeon Industries prioritizes our employees needs and wants, we have a very comfortable and convenient area for you, as you're the graphic director. There's some important features you must know. Before that, let me introduce myself. I'm Jung Hoseok, the manager of this department, you can call me Hoseok."

He reached his hand out to you, which you gladly shook with a smile on your face. The man had a beautiful smile that expressed his kindness and softness in his voice. "So, as you are aware, Jeon Industries specialises in advertising and selling of brands, brands that we own, as well as supporting the biggest companies out there. How does graphic designing work out? Well, we do adverts for the biggest and the best companies in a variety of industries, makeup industry, fashion industry, and even the food industry. And to mention Mr Jeon also has his own brand of clothing. Hence, this falls quite heavy on the graphic director, you."

Hoseok said, this made you exhale a quick breath, which you soon covered with a smile when you hear the man speak about his serious business. "It's not too bad, you'll do it. And The campaigns that you've obviously seen on TV, social media of Dior makeup, Kylie cosmetics, Balenciaga, Calvin Klein, Celine, Gucci, Louis Vuttion, Veneta Bottega and more were done by us, thus increasing their sales like shooo."

He gestured with his hands, showing the increase of sales and exaggerating it. "We've been doing well in the business world and have very high recognition for our amazing advertising team and creativity, so you've got to work a bit harder. We've got a project in two days and that's the reason why I'm explaining things fast and detailed. You must be prepared for anything and please don't hesitate to ask anything from me.

Treat me as your friend." He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. You already liked this man a lot. "So I will leave yo -" "Well, well, look, who's here?" A raspy honey-like voice spoke, you turned around to face it, and there you saw a beautiful man walking towards you with his palms inside his pants pocket. His beauty was out of this world, his expressive eyes that looked into your soul, and his walk? He doesn't walk, he models.

You noticed how Hoseok was sighing deeply when he saw the arrival of this man, he scratched his forehead and looked away, without meeting your curious eyes. "So this is our new graphic director? Ms. Lee Y/n! The one who replaced me in this position with zero work experience." You frown when you hear the words that come out of his mouth. Replaced him? Was he supposed to be taking this job? "Jimin, there's no need to -"

"Ah, ah, there is a need to let her know the damage she's done." The man pushed his silky blonde hair back and smirked. you noticed how plump his lips are, looking at you with a fake smile. "I was supposed to be the creative director, but you, Ms. No work experience replaced me! So you'll have to pay for it. You've got to survive in this job before you fly high." He speaks, gritting his words from his teeth before he walks away, knocking Hoseok with his shoulder. You looked over at Mr Jung, who clicks his tongue and heaves a sigh. You needed an explanation, if that man is gonna bully you at work for something you hadn't done and have no idea about, then you're gonna have to let the CEO know about this, you're not here to tolerate shit.

"Mr Park didn't-" "What did he mean by I replaced his position?" You asked, curious as to why the man was blaming you with hatred. "Since all the applicants weren't to the standard, Mr Jeon acknowledged Mr. Park and considered handing over the position to Jimin but that was not promised, the shortlist of applicants were not up to mark until you turned up so Mr Jeon decided to fill the vacancy with you."

"Why did Mr Jeon not give the position to Jimin? Hasn't he been working here before?" Hoseok looked at the ground, contemplating if he should go into more detail with this, but he decided it would be best if you know what the problem is since it concerns you.

"You see filling the vacancy with internal recruitment is a good idea, Jimin is well aware of how things work but filling the vacancy from external recruitment brings new ideas to the business and that's exactly what Jeon Industries needs you know-" Hoseok spoke, obviously hiding something because his eyes looked everywhere except yours which was quite obvious since he spoke to you making eye contact before. "Is there anything more?" He bit his lower lip, caught.

Is he really an open book with his expressions, he thought. "Well- Mr Jeon does not like Jimin very much, it's due to Jimin's behavior towards work but anyways I'm gonna let you look around your work space, remember if you need me I'm just by the corner of the right corridor."

Hoseok said, and you nodded, thanking him and letting him continue his work. You walked inside your corner, taking a seat on the office chair,looking around your personal office. You've now got a desktop, a laptop, and an ipad of your own to work with. There's some files and papers lying around and expensive stationery too, but overall what you liked the best was the privacy that you obtained here, your own working space.

"Wow, this is very different from a cafe." you speak to yourself and laughed quietly about it, Sighing, you leaned back on the chair and closed your eyes. You finally got a job that can show your abilities. Applying the years of hard work is gonna pay off now, and that makes you feel so happy.

-

waking up at 7 in the morning is difficult considering how you usually work part-time at the cafe so you had your own shifts but full time working is new to you, though it's exciting it is also nerve-wrecking to wake up so early and it's still your second day at work. 

You didn't have much to do today, but you were informed to be prepared for a meeting tomorrow that will test your abilities. It's a meeting with Han Paris, and he's said to be the largest alcohol manufacturer and wants to advertise his latest alcohol flavor to the market. No lie but you're definitely feeling anxious about it but nevertheless you were ready to take up the challenge to showcase the best idea out of all now that you've got the position, you must show justice to it and not disappoint the CEO himself. When you got home, you finally felt relieved, like a burden was removed from your shoulders.

You've been living off with a pretty okay number of won that you earned from the café that you worked part time in. Finally, you're earning a salary that serves the right amount to live off with. To pay your rent, your monthly rations, and even have a very fair percentage to save or get yourself anything you want. Getting into your pj's, you prepared dinner for yourself, just a light salad, nothing too heavy, because Hoseok treated you with an evening snack as a welcome gift from him . That was a very sweet act. You didn't have to think about tomorrow's breakfast because the cafeteria is always open and the food tastes amazing!

You decided to check out some of the advertisements done by Jeon Industries just to get an idea of what they've been doing for years. So you pulled out your work laptop, Hoseok said you could take it home for any preparations, so this was the opportunity to use it. Everything was already saved in the folders. What blew your mind was that each ad campaign was very different from one another. That makes you think how innovative the ideas of the designers are, and that also scares you because tomorrow you will be seated with them and they'll be your competitors, though you all aim to just get the deal for Mr. Jeon.

You've got to present your idea and hear them out but it's not that easy, you want yours to stand out because it's not just about the idea, it's also a test that Mr Jeon has put you to, Hoseok mentioned that if Mr Jeon says you to be prepared he means it. Everything should be perfect, as he's a perfectionist, you can't afford to make a mistake. You're gonna work hard to achieve it. Moreover, it's his reputation and money that's at stake. Anyone would want it to be perfect. Once you've grasped the amazing and unique ideas of the past campaigns, you decided to research Han Paris and his business.

Since apparently, the latest wine has never been in the market before, the target audience is adults that drink and if that's not enough the prices of the wine are premium, that explains enough to you. You really took time to read every detail mentioned in the document that was sent by Hoseok, and then you took some time to think. The alcohol flavour is not just any berry, It's a vanilla mulberry flavour. When you think of berries, you remember the beautiful nature, but also, you remember how you grew up with your grandmother, spending your holidays with her at her lovely cottage where she planted a variety of vegetables and fruits. You smiled, remembering those tiny moments in life. You looked at the bottle and the packaging of the wine, it's very classy and expensive. Nevertheless, you decided to stick to your own vision of creativity. Maybe something new and out of the box could make it? We don't know unless we try.

You did a little presentation, wrote down details and points regarding it, and prepared yourself for what's coming tomorrow.

-

it's meeting day and you're nervous, your face shows and your fumbling with the fingers give it away too. but you're so glad that Hoseok was there by your side to give your company so you don't feel alone. for the betterment of your meeting, Hoseok advised you about how things work here during meetings. He'd also give you more closure to the CEO's working attitudes. How Mr Jeon, has direct communication, he'd give feedback only when he wants to, if he doesn't. Don't expect. Decisions made by the CEO are tough and final, he prioritizes the efficiency for his business and has high standards that he expects his employees to achieve and exceed, as a matter of fact, Mr Jeon has limited social interactions and he avoids making conversations to anyone in the building. "He may also raise his tone, if he's unsatisfied with your job, so don't freak out." Hoseok says at which you roll your eyes. Of course, he's got the money. And the right to do so.

Lucky for you, you haven't seen much of him after signing the contract, but since he'll be here for the meeting, you wont lie that you feel slightly more than just nervous now, knowing more about him. Its funny how he was a totally different human when he fucked you.

At 2 p.m., you walked into the board room along with a handful of other staff members that included Jimin. You took your seat, and Jimin sat in front of you. You didn't miss how his eyes looked right through you or how his eyebrows moved a lot while he smirks. He looked confident, very confident that his idea will be selected, and it's only making you feel anxious but you keep your face as blank as an empty canvas so no one sees what you feel inside. In about 10 minutes, the CEO of Paris Aliénor, Han Paris and three of his staff members walked inside. Everyone in the room stood to greet him. The man had minimal facial action, that means he had no smile. But he did have his chin raised, like he belongs here and holds superiority.

"Where's Mr Jeon?" He questioned and the staff looked at each other's faces, including you. "Uh, Mr. Jeon will be-" "call him now. You -" he pointed at you with his index finger. "Call Mr Jeon right now. My time is precious." You looked at him and pointed your finger at yourself because you weren't certain if he gave the instruction to you, the staff seated beside you elbowed you and gestured you to do as he said as you nodded and stood from your chair to get Mr Jeon.

"Shit, why did he tell me?" You murmured to yourself while walking towards the CEO's cabin. "Fuck, Just knock, poke your head in, and tell him to come, that's it." You exhaled and then pushed the door open only for it to be fully opened by Mr Jeon himself. You stumbled a bit and then looked up at him, and he looked down at you. "Uh- Mr. Han asked for y- "I know, you may leave."

He spoke without glancing over you even once, the tone he uses to speak has a hint of arrogance. It was rude. You nodded your head and walked forward while he followed you. Jungkook looked at your back while you walked, that same back;

"Fuck- let me go! Horny." You speak as the man tried to put his dick back inside you but you're worn out and cant take anymore, its almost 3 am and you've both been fucking each other like animals. It seems like it wasn't just you that was desperate for sex, he was too. Much more than you. "Fuck- one more round." He whispers to your ear in his raspy voice but you pushed him away and stood from the bed that was wet from all that white slime.

"No, i don't think i could walk-" your feet wobbled a bit when you stood, you didn't walk until you balanced well. The man admired your naked back, he loved how you had the perfect proportions. He could not take his eyes off you. "Seems like your ex hadn't fucked you right." This made you chuckle. "He didn't." You picked up your dress and lingerie, hooking it before slipping into the black dress. "Quickie, i'll be fast-" "get your ass home!" You both bickered, he looked up at the ceiling and laughed quietly. "Zip it up for me."

He turns his gaze on you, sees your back out open. Smirking as he grows closer to you, the elbow helps him lift himself higher so he can zip the dress up, he did, slowly as he took the time to kiss. "Fuck! you're one fucking woman!" "Of course I am." He places his palm on your hair, gripping it and pulling you down to kiss your neck. "I'll mark you for the last time, darling. Then leave and don't ever come back."

He shook his head to forget what he did and all that he told you. He had to permanently delete it off his brain, god he was so done with this. He could sense the tension, but he didn't want to act obvious. You both walked into the board room, and everyone greeted each other before the meeting started. Everything was going okay until the staff were asked to present their ideas. Jimin started off first, and his idea was a classy club advertisement. Han Paris seemed to really like it because you noticed how he kept nodding his head while Jimin spoke the details out and explained his vision. Mr. Jeon had no expressions on his face, like a clear palette. No emotions.

"Thank you so much for your attention." He spoke before taking his seat. He looked at you with a smirk like as if he had already won, and that only made things more difficult for you. Jimin mouthed, 'I win' with his plump lips and you sighed in nervousness, Jungkook noticed the interaction between the two of you, glancing at Jimin then you and he understood immediately, this was Jimin's trick to always out on his opponent even if they both work for the same company. "Ms. Lee, anything prepared for us today?"

Jungkook spoke, and you soon looked at him and then nodded. You've always been confident. Just go for it, don't let anyone make you feel nervous, come on. You thought to yourself and stood from the chair, walking towards the center, you plugged the wire to the laptop and the screen showed everyone your presentation.

You cleared your throat and then spoke about your idea. Everyone had their eyes on you, and that somehow made you feel comfortable talking more about your idea as they seemed interested. "When I first read the description of the product, It immediately took me back to my old days where I would spend my vacation with my aunt and grandmother in the countryside. We had a beautiful mulberry tree, that is the main feature of you-" "can we move on to the other details."

Han Paris interrupted your speech, wanting you to skip the part of your opinion on alcohol. He found it unnecessary and a waste of time. "Uh, s-sure." although you were understanding, it somehow broke your confidence and your flow of speech. suddenly you don't know what exactly to say so you just conclude the speech as fast as you can, so you don't feel anymore anxious

"I think a 90s colourful theme of an advertisement would attract more adults to try out the new flavour, in my opinion, that brings us to an end, thank you for hearing me out." Everyone nodded and gave a slow round of applause while you walked towards your chair to take a seat. Jungkook looked at you from the corner of his eyes and sighed. "What do you think, Mr Jeon?"

Han Paris questioned him, and then Jungkook turned to face him with a fake smile. "I think all my employees' ideas are very unique in their own ways. It's best if you decide along with your team." Han contemplated a little, speaking to his secretary and a few other businessmen from his side, and then he nodded when everyone agreed to him.

"I find Park Jimin's idea suitable. I appreciate everyone's efforts, but I'm going with Park Jimin's." Jimin looked at you and scoffed in arrogance, his actions made you feel worse about yourself. Jungkook nodded and then spoke, "we will begin with the preparations of shooting the advertisement." He swiftly looked at you as you're the creative director now and have to engage in the entire creature process.

"That sounds good to me." Han spoke and then shook hands with Jungkook as they both stood from their seats and then Han walked out of the room, Jungkook fixed his tie in place and looked around the room, he could see how upset you looked behind that fake smile you put on. "Everyone did their best, and all ideas were great in their own way. Don't feel down because you weren't chosen today. There's always a next time."

He spoke still coldly, it's what he always says once a meeting is done. you appreciated his words that he said before he walked away, after everyone stood from their seats to pay respect. "Oh, Ms. Lee, maybe next time, mm?" Jimin spoke and chuckled as he left with the rest of the staff, leaving you alone. You're not being dramatic. You're just embarrassed, and that's obvious. In front of your boss? And stupid Park Jimin, who now has something to laugh and mock about. You stood from your seat and took your belongings as you walked towards your desk. As soon as you placed your stuff and sat on the chair, Hoseok ran towards you.

"Hey, I heard the meeting went well. How was it for you?" You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile that he didn't mirror because he could see that it was fake. "What's wrong?" You sighed deeply and said, "it was okay, Jimin's idea was chosen." Hoseok rolled his eyes. He knew Jimin was already too arrogant and proud of his idea. Now that his idea was chosen, he's surely gonna make it a huge deal. "You did your best, and this was your first meeting. Come on. Cheer up"

You nodded and then chuckled sarcastically under your breath as you whispered, "Han Paris literally embarrassed me in front of everyone." Hoseok squinted his eyes and looked at you with concern. "What did he do?" "He shut me when I gave my own opinion and a story about my family relating to his wine." Hoseok groaned loudly and then looked at you, "you know what, screw him. Let's go get you a treat." You frowned and looked up at him.

"Treat?" "In celebration of your first meeting in Jeon Industries. Come on!" He gave you a wide smile, his white smile and oh boy, does that smile look lovely. You nodded, standing from your seat. You followed him to the elevator to get to the cafeteria. Hoseok is the only one who's being nice to you so far. Everyone else seems to have not noticed your presence yet.

"Did you have your lunch?" "Uh not yet, but-" "I need two cheeseburgers, two sprites, and a blueberry cheesecake, please." He ordered lunch for you even though it was not necessary. Maybe you should treat him with lunch next time. In a few minutes, he walked towards the table with the food in his hands, giving you a wide smile as he handed over your share of the lunch.

"Thanks, Hoseok." "No mention." He said as you both took a bite of the oozing cheese burger. He then took out the little box from the brown paper bag and placed it in front of you, "Here's your treat, the best cheesecake in town for your first ever meeting here at Jeon Industries, congratulations! More to come." You began to laugh, and so did he, laughing out really loud.

Like really loud. "You didn't have to." You say, and he waved with his hand, gesturing to you that it's fine. "I wanted to do this, and we can also take it as the beginning of our friendship." "Sure." The both of you giggled and high five. Hoseok took this time to speak a little more about himself and he even mentioned that his family and friends called him 'Hobi,' so you decided to tease him with the name Hobi too, he shrugged and said he doesn't mind it.

You didn't want to speak a lot about yourself, but you're surely excited to hear more about him. Like this, the working day ended and you didn't really feel bad about the meeting after all, it's a part of learning and now you know you should limit your speech when it comes to your opinion, people like Han Paris just don't care.

You learnt quite a lot for the day, and when you thought this was gonna be the worst day, it turned out better than you imagined. Except meeting Park Jimin in the basement. You walked towards your car, humming to yourself in your own world. Jimin rested his back in your car with folded arms and a smirk on his face. He's the last person you wanted to see.

He's getting on your nerves now. "Well, Ms. Lee, I came here to congratulate you." 'How you embarrassed yourself!' He could clearly see the frustration in your eyes and frown lines. Deeply exhaling, you continued to walk to the driver's side, opening the door, but he closed it with his hand and leaned towards it. "Oh, come on."

"What do you want, Jimin?" You murmured exhaustedly, still holding onto your car door not meeting his eyes because you just want to go home and sleep, you laughed too much today, ate too much, Hoseok treated you with his hidden snacks and you spoke for hours. You need some rest to get charged for tomorrow, and Jimin is certainly not helping. He sniggered cockily, not making any eye contact he looked up at the other cars that were leaving the car park.

"What do I want? Mmm, I love that question- I want your position, and I can only get that once you're out of here." Lord, it's been just your second day, and the man here is trying his best to get you out of your job. Why? Like he's already been paid well. "Jimin, not today, please -" "nuh uh, you stay here."

He pouted his index finger at the ground, showing his dominance with them and how he made his eye contact, his eyes so dark that you couldn't even see any light in them. "Jimin, I'm not in a mood to argu-" "So hear me out!" He spoke louder, making you flinch. He smirked at it and chuckled evil, looking up at the cement wall.

"Oh, Ms. Lee, you don't know what I'll do for the position. I'll do anything and everything to get it. And I mean it." The words came out of his mouth, teeth gritting at each letter, and he was dead serious about it. He's trying to scare you, and it's working. You got into the car without any hesitation, you can't stand him any longer, he looked like he would kill you alive. You, now officially, are a closer step to hating Park Jimin to death.

Day two, and it was fucked up.

when you got back to your apartment you removed those heels, threw your bag on your couch and immediately walked to the washroom. You removed your makeup and took a nice warm shower, still hearing Jimin's words in your head. He surely is crazy, crazy for this position, but there's no way you're giving up on it.

you weren't just given this job from the sky. You worked your ass off with part-time messy jobs, and now, finally, you got a full-time job that shines your inner talent. Fuck Jimin. You had no energy to watch TV or eat. God, Hoseok can eat so much! He forced you to eat with him. But he's a lovely guy, made you feel welcomed and all. You drifted off to sleep, and damn was that a good sleep.

-

You felt motivated to work today, and indeed, the day was going well. Rosè, the receptionist greeted you warmly, and of course Park Jimin had to bless your day on the first floor of the building. You discreetly ran away. His presence can literally ruin a good going day. You pressed level 31, the elevator stopping at a few levels, and employees walked in, greeting you with a bow, and you did too.

The elevator stopped at level 17, the door opening only to make eye contact with the CEO himself. Jeon Jungkook. His eyes met yours, and he immediately looked down at the floor, walking inside. You both could feel the tension building up, and it was suffocating because that night's visions always manage to pop up when he's around.

He gets them, too.

The lift began to get full, and he had to make more space for the employees to enter. He unintentionally grew closer to you, his arm rubbing against yours, and he sighed. You gulped and clutched your bag tighter. You've got no reason to feel this way, but you're more afraid. Afraid that people will notice this because that's the worst scenario you could imagine. As the elevator stopped at 24, a few employees left, leaving you with Jungkook and a handful of people. "Lee y/n, right?" A man with glasses who didn't look older than 22 spoke, holding a stack of papers in his hands.

You nodded, and then his smile widened. "I heard about your idea from a few employees. Guess what? it reminded me of my parents, too. My dad loves mulberry, and when I heard about your nature idea, I was surprised they didn't choose you." His words made your heart warm. People really spoke about your idea? For real?

"Thank you, um - there's always a next time." The boy nodded, and you smiled, bowing when he left at level 27. You couldn't hide that smile that kept getting wider and wider. You had to bite on your lower lip to refrain yourself from giving that extremely huge white smile.

Jungkook looked at you from the corner of his eyes, he obviously had distanced himself from you, leaving a meter gap. Seeing you hiding your smile had him scoff. The door opened, and Hoseok passed by. You immediately ran to him, forgetting that your CEO is just standing there watching you.

"Hoseok! Guess what?! "Woah woah, what is it cheesecake?" He joked, and you hit his arm. "What the hell is-" "cheesecake?" Jungkook whispered under his breath as the elevator door closed and had him all confused. Since when did Mr Jung call people by nicknames? 

next chapter ⇢

[actiniumwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐘

synopsis: you and kaveh were best friends for years, studying together at the akademiya and working side by side as established architects. after the devastating incident at the palace of alcazarzaray that leads to a harsh falling out, neither of you have seen each other for years. it isn’t until one day, when a multi-millionaire offers the two of you a job that could flip your lives around, that you’re forced to reconcile and maybe even become something more

characters: kaveh x gn! reader

wc: 10k

warnings: angst, fluff, ex best friends to lovers, arguments, drinking, mentions of vomiting and blacking out, mentions of being drunk/ tipsy/ alcohol in general (nothing major), swearing, inaccurate and unrealistic depictions of architecture, probably general writing errors (since this is 10k words and i’m not proofreading it three times)

notes: um so basically i got this idea one day when i was staring at the genshin map and then suddenly an entire plot just entered my brain. and y’all know i love writing fics that somehow shove the reader into the lore and then have a super angsty dynamic with one of the characters 💀 anyway, this somehow ended up being like 10k words and took me 3-4 months to finish, but i told myself i had to finish it before fontaine came out, so here it is!

“Delivery!”

The sound of beads being pushed aside and footsteps padding against the wood floors alert you quickly. Your head rises from the arm it was leaning on to meet the face of the mailman who never failed to show up weekly with a smile on his face. It’s friday and it’s dark out, the moon peers through the window, but this happens every week. Same day, same time. Always the last delivery. Always at 8 PM sharp.

Your hand reaches to the left to dip the pen you’re holding into the black liquid in the tiny pot by your elbow. Without hesitation, you’re signing off on the sheet of paper he’s given you. When you return it, you find him giving you a smile and placing the boxes and a few neatly stacked envelopes on the counter. He walks out soon after and you call out to him, “Thanks for stopping by!”

But as soon as he’s out of your eyesight, the smile on your face drops back into the bored expression it was in before he entered your shop. A sigh escapes you as you carelessly sort through the mail, tossing the boxes to the side to look through later, already knowing it was just shipments of product for your tiny store. If you were being honest, you were ready to just set all of it to the side and head home for the night, but you carried on. Dark bags and gentle creases made theirselves at home around your eyes as you stared down at the envelopes. A deep exhale falls from your mouth as you tear each and every one of them open to look at their contents. Most of it is nothing new, aside from the very last one that has bright red peeking through the paper.

EVICTION NOTICE

“Fuck,” you angrily mutter to yourself, “this better be some sort of sick joke.” But it becomes very apparent it isn’t a joke as your eyes scan over it. There’s a burning sensation behind them when you finish reading it. It lands harshly against the counter when you slam it down, crumpling a bit at the middle. You knew you were barely making ends meet, but this? This was a whole new level. The house you had been renting was small. It barely even fit you and the little things you had left after selling most of it off. The rent was cheaper and the place wasn’t great, but it worked. If you were being evicted from this, where were you supposed to go now?

The shop you had was too small and wasn’t safe for sleeping in anyway. The thought of crashing at one of your friend’s place crosses your mind, but having to rely on them sounds less than appealing. Besides, many of them would be far too inconvenient. Tighnari had been a long time friend of yours, but he lived too far from the city which meant you wouldn’t be able to get to work on time. Same with Candace, or even Dehya, who resided in the desert. Of course, there was Nilou who was always wiling to offer you help, but you know her place isn’t big enough for two people and she needed her space for dancing. Then there was Alhaitham. That option was an absolute no for many reasons, but mainly because of the fact that he lives with your ex-best friend who was the entire reason you were in this mess.

“Ahem,” someone awkwardly clears their throat in front of you.

You jump back and away from the counter where the cursed piece of paper sat. The notice had completely distracted you from the fact that someone had walked in. Noticing you had knocked down an envelope in your sudden retreat, you reach down to pick it up while addressing the person, “I apologize, but we’re closing in around two minutes. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomor—“

Your sentence falls short as you rise from the floor. Red eyes stare back at yours, one of the prettiest shades of red you have ever seen. You could never forget those eyes.

Speak of the Devil.

The blood in your body runs cold when reality finally smacks you in the face, “Why are you here, Kaveh.”

It’s less of a question and more of a demand. You watch as his brows furrow and you can’t help but wonder if he was expecting you to be friendly with him. If he was, it wouldn’t surprise you. Kaveh was always like that — trying to see the best in people no matter the situation.

“It’s…uh, it’s been awhile,” he stumbles over his words awkwardly. It’s unlike him, you think. From what you can remember of him, he never really stuttered or mumbled unless he was drunk. Loud and clear was always more of his thing. He wanted to make sure he was known. Maybe he changed, but for the sake of his own good, you really wish he hasn’t.

“Yeah, it has,” you purse your lips as you turn around and take the boxes the delivery man had brought to the tiny back room of the shop. Earlier you decided you would deal with them tomorrow, but honestly, you’d rather deal with them right now than with your ex-best friend, “I won’t ask again. Why are you here?”

Kaveh clears his throat and averts his eyes. You watch as his hands begin to interlock and fiddle with each other. His weight keeps shifting from one side to another as he speaks, “I need your help.”

You look at him incredulously and scoff, “No.”

“What? You haven’t even heard what I have to say yet!”

“I said no,” you stand firmly, furrowing your brows at him as you gesture to the shop around you, “Don’t you see what my life has become? I don’t care what you want or need help with, I’m not helping you.”

Kaveh glances around at all the little shelves. There’s a bunch of tiny models and little figurines, things he assumes you designed yourself. You were always talented at that sort of stuff. He preferred the flat blueprints while you had a knack for creating 3D models filled with details like no other. It was no wonder you had used that ability to your advantage.

He notices how small it is. There’s other vendors around your shop, he noticed them as he came in. They all had bigger shops with more shelves and more room, better organization even. He liked yours though. As much as Kaveh enjoyed extravagance, the warm home vibe your store gave outmatched the others. It reminded him so much of the way you made him feel back then. Even so, he can’t help but see what you were talking about. This store isn’t what your talent should be wasted on when you were destined for far more. Both of you were. Yet here you are, both barely scraping by.

“I know and I don’t really have the right to be asking you for this, but will you please just hear me out first?” He begs with desperation in his eyes. You sigh and look off to the side before giving him a slight nod, a gesture for him to continue on.

“There’s a man named Zakai, a multi-millionaire businessman here in Sumeru who’s looking to have a custom mansion made for himself and his pregnant wife,” he explains. It’s beginning to sound all too familiar far too quickly and you can feel your willingness to let him explain slipping away from you.

“Kaveh.”

“Just listen, okay. He sought me out but wanted you too. Said something about admiring our work on the Palace of Alcazarzaray and he wants something similar but smaller with a different look.”

“Are you joking? No. There’s no way,” you refuse, waving your hands in the air as you shake your head.

Kaveh continues to plead his case though, “He’s not like Dori, I swear! He actually has empathy and his request is a lot more reasonable. Besides, there’s a lot of money involved in this. Even split between us. It would cover the debt we owe. Guaranteed.”

“You’re empathetic, Kaveh, and you’re a perfectionist. Millionaires don’t care about us. Can’t you see where this is heading? I don’t know about you, but I am not very fond of the fact that I’m wasting my life away trying to work off an insane amount of debt. What happens if another mistake occurs in the process? Hm? Our lives will be ruined ten times more than they were last time and I’m not willing to take that risk.”

“Ten times worse? Really?” He exasperatedly scoffs, throwing his hands up in the air dramatic as ever, “Of course I hate how I live right now. I mean, c’mon! Honestly, who wouldn’t? But you and I both know we don’t really have anything left. Take a look around you and tell me you wouldn’t take the chance to get out of this mess.”

The glare you’re sending him is icy cold, Kaveh falters a bit under it, but you both know he’s right. There’s a plate full of money right in front of your face and you’re so close to being able to call it yours, and yet you’re denying it? A life without debt is nothing but a dream to you at this point, one you’ve had nightly since you watched all your money slide away from you and down into Dori’s mischievous little hands.

Kaveh tests the waters when he speaks again after the brief silence, “You’re the only other architect in Sumeru that is capable of working on this job. You saw what we accomplished on the palace. We can do it again, no mistakes this time. And if it does happen…then I’ll take the fall for it. I’ll take the fall for all of it.”

Your brows furrow and you sigh for what felt like the thousandth time. The small part of you that was his best friend from all those years ago reaches out to him, “You know I can’t accept that, Kaveh. We may not be friends anymore, but I’m not going to watch you destroy yourself all over again if something goes wrong.”

“Please,” he pleads, entirely brushing off your words, “I’m doing this for the both of us. If you want out at any point, then we’ll back out together. Just…consider the offer, okay?”

The red from the letter catches your eye again and something suddenly feels like it’s pulling at your heart. An eviction notice followed by a job offer promising wealth feels like one big coincidence, but it’s not one you can ignore. You really didn’t have anything left now — aside from the tiny store you had going. And if this does turn out to be a success, your life would be entirely back on track to what it was all those years ago. You could live freely again.

One more glance at Kaveh finalizes your decision.

“I’ll do it.”

The next few times you meet with Kaveh seem to bleed well into the night. Blueprints are scattered across the floor of your shop during the after hours, a closed sign out front. Your legs are crossed over one another and your head rests atop your hand. Kaveh is standing up, muttering words you can’t quite make out.

“No…that won’t do, but…well? Dark wood? Ugh…wait! No, nevermind,” he paces back and forth, sifting through papers in his hands.

You place the outline you were looking at on the floor and glare at him coldly, “Can you stop? I can’t focus.”

Kaveh sighs and sets down the blueprints he was holding in his hand, “Sorry, I just can’t make up my mind.”

“Clearly,” you mutter.

“Here,” he picks up a pile of sketches off the table and hands them to you, “What do you think of the wood choices on these? Oh, and the color of the paint we’d use on the outside.”

Your eyes inspect them carefully as you flip through each one. They’re all relatively the same aside from a few of them. The ones that stand out the most to you are the simple ones. They’re darker and more elegant looking, exactly what this guy seemed to want. On the other hand, the rest of them are more flashy and had an air to them you couldn’t seem to take a liking to.

You slide him two of the papers, side by side and tap each of them simultaneously, “These two. They’re cost effective and fit what he wants. I say we go this route, but maybe with some slight changes.”

“What? No! Those should’ve been scrapped,” Kaveh’s eyes widen at your choice. He scrambles to grab the papers back but you slam your hand down on them before he can.

You squint your eyes, “What do you mean? These practically check everything off his list. How are we going to deny the client what he wants?”

Kaveh groans and a hand slides down his face, “These don’t even look rich. It barely screams money at all! We’re making a house for a rich man and you want to do something this simple?”

“Yes! This is literally what he wants! And it does look rich. Just because something isn’t bursting with color and fancy embellishments everywhere does not mean it doesn’t have opulence to it!”

Kaveh’s face visibly falls at your response and he can’t help but be reminded of all those years ago when you were still friends. Sure you still argued then, but it wasn’t like now. You weren’t hostile toward him and he could stand to make some changes based on your suggestions. But now, it felt like everything was going in one ear and out the other.

“What if we compromise?” he asks regretfully, not willing to give up what he wants, but still wanting to get this job done. Contrary to his cynical and provocative roommate, arguing was not something Kaveh enjoyed, and Kaveh didn’t want to strain your relationship any more than it already was.

You hesitantly nod and point to each of the sketches, “Okay, which parts?”

“Keep it extravagant, use cheaper materials?”

“No, I just said that isn’t what Mr. Zakai wants.”

“Well then what are we supposed to do?”

You roll your eyes when he isn’t looking. Sometimes it felt like you were arguing with a child.

“Simple. Choose the more plain design and maybe add a few more embellishments, while keeping it cost effective.”

Kaveh inwardly groans, but stops himself from saying anything else. He thinks for a moment, going back and forth between different ideas in his head. There’s a temptation to just grab the sketches and run off with them, leave you in the dust and forget all about your past with each other. It’s the same part of him that sits on his shoulder, whispering in his ear that maybe, just maybe, all of this is a mistake.

The other part yearns. It’s something he can’t help as he stares down at the sketches, but really, he’s looking at you from his peripheral vision. He misses the way things were when you were best friends. When you would laugh for hours on end with each other, talk about the big mansions you would build for each other some day, and the lives you were going to have. All of those visions, every thought he used to have, they all included you.

Kaveh doesn’t remember when things got so bad between you. Yes he knows the exact date, the time, the place it all went down. But when did you start really hating each other? When did your smile begin to fade into a frown whenever he showed up? And when did he start feeling a painful ache in his chest whenever your name was mentioned?

Why do things have to be the way they are?

Kaveh shuts the door in the temptation’s face. He wasn’t going to run from you or shove everything aside like he normally would. If he was granted any wish in the world, it wouldn’t be to get rid of his debt or become the richest man in the world. Because Kaveh would let himself he the poorest man in the world if it meant he could be with you again.

Mr. Zakai had come to him with an opportunity of wealth and opulence. It would make them one in the same if he could play his cards right. Wipe away his debt and his past. He could be free again. But more than that, Kaveh would have you back.

And as his ruby red eyes catch yours once more, he realizes there is nothing more that he wants than you.

“Wow, I mean, Archons. This design is just unbelievable.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, not quite sure if you should be scared or relieved. Mr. Zakai’s tone doesn’t give away what he’s feeling, and you’re terrified. Kaveh swears he can feel you shaking next to him in anticipation…or maybe it was the anxiety. He glances once your way and then back to Mr. Zakai before glancing at you again and awkwardly laughing, “Ahaha, I hope that’s a, uh, good ‘unbelievable?’”

Mr. Zakai throws his hands in the air and laughs brightly, “Yes, yes! Of course! This design is utterly beautiful. It’s like you took the picture from my mind and captured it right onto a piece of paper.”

Both of you sigh of relief simultaneously, clutching a hand over your hearts, but smiling nonetheless. “That’s wonderful to hear,” you say and gesture to the open land behind you that has long since been designated as the construction site for his home, “If you’d like, we can get to building as soon as possible. We already have a team prepared and everything. Just say the word.”

“Let us begin!” he cheers.

Beginning to build the actual mansion was like a dream come true for an architect. The smoothness at which everything was running was beyond belief for the both of you. All of the materials had been safely delivered with care, and although they weren’t the best of the best, they without a doubt exceeded Kaveh’s expectations. Alongside that, the plot of land being used was absolutely beautiful and the perfect place for a home.

It was a perfect distance from the main city, nothing too arduous to travel to. There was a beautiful lake nearby that was adorned with various flowers, fish, and fruit trees surrounding it. And the best part, there weren’t any cliffs or waterfalls nearby. No signs of a withering zone either. It was something Kaveh had specifically checked for before accepting the job, terrified of having a repeat of the entire incident that put you both in this mess.

It had only taken around a week and a half for the skeleton of the mansion to be built. But already, it was turning out wonderfully. Thanks to the team both of you had and your newfound ability to compromise with one another, both of your guys’ morale had been boosted immensely. Things were finally beginning to look up.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper in awe, staring at the team working on the house just feet away from you. Kaveh stands next to you, clipboard in hand and a pen eagerly scribbling away at the paper on it.

His eyes look up from the papers he was shuffling through to glance at the house and then glance back at you, “It really is, huh? I’m glad we were able to compromise on the final design. I think it’s turning out really great.”

“And to think you wanted all those embellishments,” you laugh as you reminisce.

Kaveh scoffs and leans into your shoulder with his, “Shut up. Sometimes the blueprint version isn’t a good representation of the final product. How was I supposed to know your ideas would look so good?”

“Oh? What was that?” you cup your hand around your ear and smirk, leaning into him, “Is that you finally admitting my ideas are better than yours?”

“Hey! That is not what I said.”

“I think it is. Just admit it, my dear friend, I have always been the better architect.”

My dear…friend?

Kaveh stops in his place, blinking at your words. He breathes out and looks to the ground. He isn’t sure what you mean. Perhaps it was a slip up or just a joke, but he chooses not to take it seriously in order to protect his feelings. So he teases you, ignoring the slight ache in his heart, “Oh, so now we’re friends again?”

“Ugh, please. I couldn’t be friends with an architect that isn’t on my level,” you jest. It was indeed a slip up on your end, and you realized it the moment you said it, but like Kaveh, you knew it would be better to just brush it off. Push it aside along with any other newfound positive feelings you had toward your old friend.

“Pft, yeah right,” he rolls his eyes and turns away from you again. You both begin walking toward the house, ready to tell everyone that it’s time to pack it up for the night. The sun would be completely set in about an hour and you knew they all had families to get back to. Besides, both of you were tired and you weren’t even the ones building the damn thing. You couldn’t imagine how tired they were if you were already feeling exhausted.

Footsteps dragging against the gravel alerts the crew of your presence and they all realize what time it is. Several of them hop down from the upper layers while the rest of them begin picking up their things from the ground floor. Many of them already begin to bid one another a “goodnight,” and “get home safely.”

“Great work today, guys!” you excitedly call out to them.

Kaveh smiles a bit and joins you, clapping his hands together as he reminds them, “Please go home and get some rest. We have a busy rest of the week from here on out! We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Before either of you can walk away, one of the girls that was working on the building rushes up to you both, “Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you guys know about the progress.”

You recognize her as one of the leaders for the construction crew when you turn around. She was in charge of the more specific areas of progress when it came to the actual building aspect, while you and Kaveh had oversight on the entire thing.

“Oh?” Kaveh confusedly asks, unsure of what she had to share, “What about it? Is something the matter?”

“No, no! Nothing bad. I just wanted to let you know that at this rate, the house should be completed within three months. We’re making an exponentially great amount of progress, especially with the wonderful crew we have working on it. You guys should be proud of yourselves,” she smiles.

You and Kaveh quickly turn and high-five each other, pleased with what she was saying. But as quick as it came, it was gone. Simultaneously, you clear your throats and take a step back from one another.

“Ahem, I um — thank you! That means a lot,” you say through a strained smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Kaveh doesn’t say anything.

Instantly, the girl can feel the awkward tension in the air and takes a step back herself.

“Of course, I’ll uh, be going now. Have a goodnight!”

When she walks off, Kaveh turns back to you hesitantly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Let’s just pretend that never happened, yeah?”

He hums in agreement and starts to walk alongside you, “But, hey, I was thinking. She is right, you know? We should be proud of our progress so far. Maybe we could go to the tavern tonight? But only if you want, of course!”

You pause, but nod slowly, “Yeah…yeah okay. We can do that.”

“Really?” Kaveh tilts his head to the side, not quite believing you.

“Sure,” you shrug, not thinking too much into it, “Let’s go.”

You could feel the alcohol running through your system as you spoke, laughing along with some stupid story you were telling. Kaveh and you had been at the tavern for nearly two hours and it had long since been dark outside. You didn’t even get the chance to change out of your work clothes before getting there.

It didn’t take long for either of you to find a glass of alcohol sitting in front of you alongside a bunch of different dishes. Although neither of you really had the money to spending like this, it was a congratulatory meal and you couldn’t help but splurge a little.

“I know! Oh my god,” you slur a bit, “Do you…do you remember that time that one guy in our class plagiarized his entire project all the way down to the 3-D model? What was his name again? Bahar? No, that wasn’t it…”

“Oh, Baharak!” Kaveh exclaims, jumping from his seat a little and pointing at you before sitting back down. Leaning against his seat, he lets out a nostalgic sigh, “Archons, how could I forget that guy?”

“Baharak, yeah! Man, I can’t believe he really thought he wouldn’t get expelled for that,” you say and take another sip of your drink.

Kaveh hums in agreement and takes another bite of his food, “Wait, do you remember that professor we had? The one that took my library book away?”

“Really? You’ll have to refresh my memory again,” you say, struggling to connect memories together. Neither of you were drunk, but you were sure as hell getting there. Lambad already had to tell both of you to ease up on the drinks, aware that you both had work the next day. But truly, he just didn’t want you making a ruckus in his tavern again.

It had been years since you both visited together, but he could never forget the messes you made when you were both students at the Akademiya. The days where you would drink until you blacked or vomited, the nights spent drunk crying over bad grades or shitty professors, or the time you accidentally fell asleep on the bathroom floor and he didn’t realize until after closing because Kaveh was too drunk to realize you even left. It was safe to say that you weren’t his favorite customers, despite being fully grown adults now. Lambad was not willing to have repeats of any of those incidents.

It continues on for another hour or so, just sharing stupid stories from the past and what your friendship used to be like. It almost feels as though you are friends again, even if it’s just for a brief moment.

Your smile is wide when you’re talking to him and your laugh isn’t some fake laugh that you always use when someone comes into your store or when you’re talking to literally anyone else. Your legs are bumping into his under the table too, contrary to a few years ago when he was much shorter. It’s weird, you think, how much everything has changed.

It’s not until someone at a table nearby makes a comment about you two that you really digest just how weird it all is.

“Look at that cute couple over there,” they say in awe from somewhere behind you, “Don’t you miss when we used to be like that?”

Within seconds you feel sobered up. It almost embarrasses you how one much one small comment could have an effect on you. Your heart drops into your stomach and your laughter fades out. This isn’t right, you think. You can laugh and drink all you want, but it doesn’t change what happened all those years ago. It doesn’t change the incident or the things Kaveh said to you that night or the things you said to him. It doesn’t change how hard you cried and how your life suddenly went from being on a high to dropping to the lowest you’ve ever been. You can barely survive day to day because of that day…because of him.

No. It doesn’t change anything at all.

You stand up abruptly and grab your bag, slamming some mora onto the table and glancing around hurriedly before beginning to walk out on him. Kaveh stands up too and goes to reach for your arm, but you pull away before he can make contact with it, “Hey, what’s wrong? Where are you going?”

“I can’t do this,” you mumble to yourself, rushing away out of fear.

“Can’t do what?” Kaveh’s eyes are bursting with confusion and terrified that he may have done something wrong. Something to upset you. But you’re already out of the building before he can get an answer.

It had been about a week before you saw each other again. Luckily for you, it wasn’t required that you were at the build site as long as one of you was there. And with Kaveh’s naturally perfectionistic personality, you knew you weren’t needed there. He was also smart enough to not coming looking for you either after everything that had occurred not only earlier that week, but in the years prior. There was a reason you got along so well before everything came crashing down.

No one knew you guys like you knew each other. There was no doubt about that.

The time you had been gone in the past week was spent running your store, something you had been neglecting anyway. Despite it not being the most successful business ever, it was something and you still had customers to take care of.

Today had been rather slow, being a Thursday and all. Most people were out working their other jobs and kids were in school, so there weren’t really many people to be out shopping anyway.

Aggressive footsteps catch your attention, but you don’t bother to look up at whoever had just entered, figuring it was probably some elderly guy again there to scold you like the one last week.

“Welcome in, I’ll be with you in a moment,” you call out from your spot at the counter, signing away at some documents for the store. The footsteps don’t stop and look around, however. Instead, they march right up the counter and slam your binder shut.

“Is this seriously what you’ve been doing? I get it I may have pissed you off or whatever at Lambad’s earlier this week, but leaving me at the site like that is just shallow,” a familiar voice scolds you. You look up to see Kaveh seething. Although, the longer you look in his eyes, the more you see he’s less angry and more terrified. Of what? You’re unsure.

For a moment, you have the urge to extend a hand out to him and ask him what’s wrong, but you catch yourself before you can. Besides, it would defeat the entire purpose of you being at your store instead of the mansion. Instead you scoff, regaining your anger for him, “Okay? It’s not like you really needed me there this week. All the crew is doing is just finishing the skeleton. Stop acting like something bad happened or whatever.”

Kaveh purses his lips and leans closer to you, leveling his eyes with yours. The seriousness in them is unmistakable and it shakes you a bit. You haven’t seen him like that since…well, since that day. “That’s the thing…something did happen. I came here to tell you abo—”

“What?” You cut him off, eyes widening.

“Stop,” he hushes you angrily, “Please for the love of God just listen for once. Something happened to Zakai’s wife. I came here to tell you that we need to meet with him today because it’s urgent and I barely know what’s going on myself. So please, just put our differences aside and come with me.”

Your lips shut themselves before they can speak again. There’s shock in your eyes at his slight outburst, but you gulp and nod at him. Picking up the binder from earlier, you slide it under the counter in one of the locked drawers before walking around to the other side where Kaveh stands. A quick glance around and you’re walking out of the store. Without hesitation, you flip the sign that reads open to the side that reads closed.

And although you weren’t the firmest believer in the Gods or any part of Celestia, you bowed your head and prayed to the Dendro Archon that this wasn’t what you thought it was.

Your leg bounces in anticipation as you sit next to Kaveh at the Cafe. It’s dark out, and there aren’t a lot of people around which you’re grateful for. There was a certain nervousness in the air and you weren’t ready to find out where it was going to take you.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Mr. Zakai says sadly and sits down, sliding you both a mug with what you presume is tea. Kaveh thanks him and bumps his knee with yours from next to you.

You fall out of your thoughts and clear your throat, “Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.”

He looks down at his lap solemnly, seemingly speechless. You turn to Kaveh who’s sitting on your right and frown at him. Kaveh returns the expression but nods his head, wordlessly telling you to just wait and see. You nod back and turn to sip at your tea.

Mr. Zakai’s voice is shaky when he speaks again moments later, “I…I don’t know where to begin. I suppose I should just get to the point so I don’t waste your time.”

You both wait in silence, urging him to continue. Practically waiting on the edge of your seats at this point.

“I have to suspend the project.”

You swear you can feel your heart drop into your stomach as you breathlessly whisper a tiny, “What?”

Kaveh turns to you quickly to gauge your reaction before turning back and swallowing deeply, “I’m sorry, could you please explain what’s going on here? I mean, c’mon, we barely started this thing and now you’re backing out?”

He waves his hands in the air and coughs, “No, no! I…I’m not backing out, dear God, no. I just, I need to wait a bit. It’s my wife, she’s with a family doctor. You see, she’s pregnant and there’s been some terrible complications. I’m afraid she’s fallen ill and I can’t afford to be spending my time building some mansion when she needs me.”

“How long?” you ask firmly, “How long are you suspending this?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” he regretfully apologizes.

Kaveh tries to stay calm but you can feel him shaking next to you. His hands shakily put down the tea cup and he shuts his eyes while he speaks, almost like this is just one big nightmare that he can’t wake up from, “What does this mean for us? The crew? The materials we bought?”

Zakai stutters and sighs over and over again before he can get anything out, “I promise I will pay you…eventually. I have medical bills to pay and for now, I can’t pay either of you.”

“So what? You’re just leaving us then?!” You push him further.

“I’m sorry, really, I am,” he stands up and backs away slowly, “I need to go visit my wife. We’ll chat again soon.”

Hurriedly, he rushes off before either of you get the chance to go after him. Your breathing is heavy and labored, but neither of you move from your seats. There’s a lump in your throat, one you’re desperately trying to push down as you whisper, “I should have never agreed to this.”

“Hey, it’s not over yet,” Kaveh tries to reason as he places a hand on your shoulder. You shrug him off and stand up, shaking your head as you turn around to walk away.

Kaveh quickly springs from his seat and rushes to catch up with you. He pleads with you desperately, “I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear. This is all my fault.”

“Yeah, it is,” you spat at him, stopping in your tracks and turning to him, “That’s the problem with you, Kaveh. Wherever you go, bad luck just seems to follow. I should’ve known better, honestly. You’d think after all these years I would’ve been smarter. And now…now my life is even more ruined than it was before. Thanks a lot.”

“You know what? No. You agreed to this, so you don’t get to treat me like dirt on your shoe just because something went wrong. Don’t you realize my life is just as ruined as yours is? You’re not the only one with problems!” He yells suddenly, taking a step forward toward you. A few people stop and stare but quickly keep moving when you turn and glare at them.

“My life was ruined in seconds!” You dig your pointer finger into his chest as you match his volume.

“Yeah? Well so was mine! You’re not the only one who’s been suffering all this time.”

Silence washes over both of you. You take a step back from him and remove your hand from his chest hesitantly, angry tears beginning to sting your eyes. Kaveh feels the same prickliness too, a dull ache in his chest as he stands before you. This wasn’t what either of you wanted deep down, and you realize that as you turn and walk away from him again.

There were so many moments of failure in Kaveh’s life, but you had an equal share as well. Yet, for some reason, neither of you realized the other was hurting just as much. Perhaps, like Kaveh, the real reason you accepted the project was so you could rekindle your friendship, bring back a relationship you missed dearly.

You look up at the moon as you walk away, leaving him somewhere behind you where you don’t care to look back to. And as you stare at its presence in the sky, you can’t help but feel like it was just like you and him. He was the sun, and you were the moon. Beautiful in their own ways, but bound by fate to never exist at the same time. Never to coexist.

Maybe this time, the tiny thread that still connected you had finally tethered for good.

The day it all happened was both blurry and clear in your memories.

That day.

Everything seemed to irk you from the moment you awoke that morning. The sheets on your bed weren’t quite placed right. The temperature in your house was miserably warm, even worse, humid after you accidentally left your window open the night before. The ingredients you had planned on using for your favorite breakfast had miraculously grown mold overnight. Not to mention, you were already late five minutes to the build site and everyone knew how particular Dori was about being punctual.

The clouds were a depressing gray from what you could remember. The rain was normally one of your favorite things. After all, you chose to live in the rainforest for a reason. But that day, the gloomy sight stirred a sense of anger in you that was impossible to shake.

You could remember the way Kaveh was avoiding you in the weeks leading up to it all. It was justified in your eyes because well, you were avoiding him too. Neither of you seemed to be able to stand the constant arguments that would break out between you. Most of them were pointless too — small things that could be resolved without a bunch of yelling and insults. Yet, every time you looked at him, every time he spoke, every time he even breathed, you felt anger seep into your blood.

At that point, the both of you had worked on several projects together. Houses, libraries, stores, gardens, you name it. The Palace of Alcazarzaray was the first real project you had both worked on. It was big, flashy, and was going to make a statement about your capabilities to all of Sumeru. Fame and riches were plastered all over the opportunity. The magnum opus of both of your careers.

It was this very reason that you both fought so often. There was so much to plan. So much to work on. At first, things had gone well considering you were both great friends — the best of friends, even. Any outsider or non-architect would probably make the naive assumption that, if anything, it would bring you even closer together. But with so much pressure, the opposite happened and you grew apart. The conflict was too much to handle on either side and you couldn’t keep up with it. Neither of you could.

The rain was bothersome when it started.

It started with a few drops here and there. You could remember hastily wiping them from your hands and face before peering up at the sky with a frown. Within a mere few seconds, the sprinkling rain became aggressive and thunderous. Lightning flashed in your eyes as the afternoon sky faded from a light gray to a deep blue and black.

It was hard to hear the yelling of all the crew members over the rumbling of the thunder overhead. The water below the structure began to thrash rapidly and the cliffs had a slight shake to them. Up until that part, everything was clear to you.

Then the rain was in your eyes and your breathing was heavy as you aimlessly ran around. Eventually, everyone had evacuated the site to a nearby area. Everything had happened so fast you couldn’t even remember how you ended up there, wrapped in a blanket and shivering in the corner of a small tent with a few other people. Soon after, everyone got sent home for the afternoon in a bad mood.

It wasn’t until hours later that a majority of the crew had returned. Your heart dropped within the first few steps you took as the palace came into sight. What had once been turning out to be a luxurious palace was crumbled down into nothing but ruins. Forest Rangers surrounded the place, evaluating it and dragging some equipment away. As soon as Tighnari spotted you, he jogged over to you, carefully explaining what happened.

After the rain, the withering made its way to the house and destroyed just about everything. Within hours, everything you had been working toward for months vanished out of thin air. Kaveh had been walking up to the both of you when the news was relayed to you. What he overheard stopped him in his tracks, allowing him to fall to his knees in anger, frustration, but most importantly, denial. Part of him could process it, while the other part wished he could wake up from whatever nightmare he seemed to be having.

If there was one thing you could remember better than anything else, it was the silence that followed. Everyone dispersed from the area with crest fallen expressions making their way home to their families for the second time that night. You and Kaveh stayed behind, sitting quietly within the ruins on your knees, surrounded by rubble, praying for a miracle from the Dendro Archon.

Tears fell silently down both of your faces as he leaned against your shoulder, arms wrapped carelessly around your abdomen. You had no energy to return the action, and so you sat there in the still silence without so much as a sniffle. Your head was bowed to your chest, unable to look at the place anymore in fear of breaking down in a way that seemed worse than the way the palace had broken.

Both of your tears’ had dried with the morning sun. There was a pounding in your head as Kaveh dragged you back to his house to collect his savings and prepare to sell his house. You had done the same after making a hesitant agreement with him. A tingling sensation covered your body as your chest and stomach ached. Anxiety was written all over your face and you couldn’t help but feel regret over your actions. There was no other way out, you thought.

The arguments hadn’t stopped even after everything had been settled with the money and the plans to rebuild the palace came into fruition. You still had a hard time being around him and he felt the same way. Despite that small moment of desperation where he clung to you in the ruins, there wasn’t much left of your friendship by the end.

Ultimately, one thing led to another and a snap happened. Kaveh was the one to snap first, turning around on you one day and just hurling insult after insult. You followed suite, not backing down for the sake of your dignity. And at that moment, you just wanted to make each other hurt. There was nothing more to it. No real reason to be arguing anymore — not even over small trivial things like misplaced blueprints or an empty paint can being knocked over. It was pure hatred at its finest.

Coincidentally, that was the last day you ever saw each other. You both unknowingly felt bad about hurting each other like that. You were supposed to be best friends afterall. Some part of you even wanted to be more. Not that he ever knew that, though. There was a time in which you tried to apologize, but the residual anger that burned in your heart prevented you from ever seeking him out.

And so, everything you had come to know of him ceased at once. Kaveh was no longer part of your life and you were no longer part of his. The Palace of Alcazarzaray was finished by the crew and anytime either of you ever had to meet with Dori it was always separate. For years, you hadn’t even caught so much as a glance of him.

There was nothing left. Absolutely nothing.

Three weeks had passed since Zakai had reached out to either of you. History seemed to be repeating itself with you and Kaveh as well, seeing as neither of you had crossed paths at all within that time.

You were back to quietly running your tiny little store. There was only a week left until your eviction went into effect. The few things you had in your house had been moved into a small section in the back of your store where you had settled to live temporarily. There wasn’t much room and it wasn’t the safest, but you would find a way to make it work for the time being.

“Um, hi,” a timid voice squeaks out, catching you off guard, “I have an urgent delivery. Could you please confirm your name on the envelope?”

Your eyes lift from the paper they’re staring at blankly. Your brows furrow and you nod at the young boy who didn’t look to be older than fifteen. “Do you know what this is about?” You ask him as you turn to find a letter opener from behind you.

“Not exactly. It’s from my uncle Zakai, you know him right?”

“Yeah, something like that. Thanks,” you mumble. He hums before awkwardly walking out of your shop. When he’s gone, you eagerly cut open the pristine envelope to find a paper inside. It’s a letter, you realize as you begin to read it. It’s addressed to both you and Kaveh, so you assume he must’ve received one as well.

Inside the letter details a meeting at a specific time and place. It’s the build site, later this afternoon at three o’clock. Most of it is just jumbled up, redundant apologies that you can’t resist your eyes from rolling at, but the end of the letter catches your eye. Moving back up a few sentences you had scanned over, you reread it carefully.

“He wants to start the project back up?” You ask to no one but yourself. The letter falls from your hand onto the counter and you stare out at your shop in contemplation. On one hand, you could return to the project and see it through. Maybe hope nothing bad happens again. On the other, you could ditch the whole thing out of fear that history could repeat itself for a third time. It would mean you could avoid seeing Kaveh again. Because, as you angrily spat at him before, bad luck seemed to follow him wherever he went. You were far too scared of what the outcome of seeing him again would be.

Minutes later you had your answer as you found yourself flipping the sign outside the shop to closed and locking the doors.

It wasn’t worth it, you realized, being scared of someone who was only scared and sensitive himself. Joining the project again couldn’t hurt you any further than it already had. There was no contractual agreement that would force you to be friendly with Kaveh again either. Perhaps you could work merely as coworkers and nothing more. Speak to him only when you have to and get this job done once and for all.

“I’m glad to have you back,” Zakai shakes your hand firmly as you fall into step with him.

“Happy to be back,” you lie. Hesitantly, you turn to him and clear your throat, “If you don’t mind me asking, is your wife alright? What made you come back to the project?”

Mr. Zakai sends you a fond smile as he thinks of her, “She’s perfectly fine. Thank you for asking. There were a few complications with the baby, but she made it through and everything is going smoothly now. The baby is actually due in a few weeks. Can you believe it?”

“Not at all,” you smile halfheartedly.

“Anyway,” he says as you reach the site with him, “I came back to the project because I am a man of my word. I said I wasn’t going to drop it, so here I am. Besides, I’m impressed with yours and Kaveh’s work. I truly hope we can finish what we started.”

You nod silently to yourself. Before you or Zakai can say anything else, Kaveh jogs up to you both out of breath, “I’m so sorry I’m late. My annoying roommate took my key again and I couldn’t get back into the house to grab my things, so I had to go track him down and get it back.”

“That’s okay,” Zakai laughs and holds out his hand for Kaveh to shake, “It’s good to see you, Kaveh.”

“You too,” he says before turning to you. Kaveh nods at you silently. Hesitantly, you nod back, averting your eyes quickly.

It doesn’t take long for everything to return to the natural swing of things. The crew was happy to be back and building and Zakai was more than pleased with how close the house was to being completed. Over the next few weeks, everyone works diligently to get it completed.

Day in and day out, neither of you spoke to one another just as you had hoped for. No arguments, no silly jokes, no talking about ideas…nothing. Sometimes it felt a little lonely, even when you were standing right next to each other. There were times where you had seen something on the way to site that you wanted to talk to someone about, rant about your day, whatever. Even when you were still in the period of “hating” each other before Zakai temporarily left the project, both of you still felt more comfortable speaking to each other.

You want to hate him. You really do. But after everything that has happened, after all the emotions you can’t seem to restrain anymore, you’re beginning to wonder if you ever really hated him the way you said you did.

On the final day of the project, it rains again. You aren’t worried this time, however. Not like how you were with the palace. The house was built, inside and out. The only thing left to add was the remainders of Zakai and his wife’s furniture and any other little embellishments he had requested. A pay check was already in the mail for you both, your ticket out of the miserable life you’ve both led for two years.

You’re walking away for the night when footsteps pick up from somewhere behind you. Most of the crew was in front of you chatting away under a ledge shielded from the rain. There’s a hollow feeling in your chest that leaves you feeling dissatisfied with it all as you walk away, no umbrella and shivering furiously under the pouring rain. Eventually, the mysterious person catches up to you and falls into step with you. There was only one person it could have been.

A few weeks ago, you would have swatted him away or sped up so you could get as far away from him as possible. But now, just like that night in the ruins two years ago, you had no energy to push him away anymore. So, silently, you both walk side by side until you reach Sumeru City.

A bolt of lightning landing on the ground a few feet away causes you both to jump back. Thunder follows suite and suddenly the rain turns more into a storm that threatens to flood the city. Icy hail begins to fall not even seconds later, harshly landing against both of your backs as you rush into the city.

Kaveh’s hand gently grabs yours and eagerly drags you away with him. He’s yelling something, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. And before you know it, you’re both sitting in a booth at Lambad’s Tavern soaked and shivering.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the air, “We should stay here until the storm dies down. It’s too dangerous outside.”

“Yeah,” you quietly agree and nod quickly, eyes stuck on the table like it was the most interesting thing ever. Kaveh’s looking at you, but you ignore his gaze.

Minutes later, Lambad walks over with a sympathetic expression on his face as he sets down two hot chocolates. He makes some small talk about the storm which both of you indulge him in as you sip on the hot drinks, acting as if nothing was wrong between you. Eventually, he goes to leave but stops to turn back, “I’ll bring out two more on me. Please, stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you both say simultaneously. It goes quiet when he leaves.

For the first time in two years, it feels like the silence is warm and home like. It’s no longer awkward and cold. It reminds you of the time when you were still scholars at the Akademiya, studying late at night at your house in your room. He would sit in your bed while you studied at your desk. There was always something so comforting about it despite the fact that you had to study. Being with him was your favorite thing in the world. And even though it felt like you both had been thrown into the pits of hell with each other, forced against each other over and over again, sitting across from him now felt like none of that had ever happened. For a tiny moment, it felt like you were friends again.

“I never wanted you out of my life,” Kaveh breaks the silence suddenly. Your eyes meet his for the first time that night and they’re brewing with a certain determination, sadness, and anger all at once. You can feel it in yourself too.

“What?” you breathe out. Your brows furrow as you take in what he’s saying, “You never wanted me to leave? But I thought…after everything, I mean. After what we said to each other back then, you didn’t hate me?”

Kaveh frowns and his mouth falls agape as his hands slam against the table dramatically. The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, “Hate you? Archons no! How could I hate you when I was in love with you?”

“Wait—you…? You were in love with me?”

His face falls instantly, hands waving in the air, “Shit, I didn’t mean—”

Your eyes glance back and forth between his, desperately searching for any sign of a prank or some sort of sick joke. Fear pangs your heart when you can’t find any, “Kaveh…why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were you and I was me. It never would’ve worked no matter how much I wanted it to,” Kaveh slumps into his seat, scoffing as he forces himself to look away from you, “You know what? Can we please just forget I ever said anything?”

The realization of what all the years you spent together meant hits you hard as you sit across from him. The rain pounding against the windows makes your head pound even harder as you try to make sense of it all. Because, no, this was not some sick joke or some prank. Kaveh was wholeheartedly in love with you at some point and you had no idea.

There were times where you felt the same. Staring at him from across the room, his beautiful blonde hair messily sprawled across your bed as he complained about the project you were working on. The times when he would be going on and on about his passions and you couldn’t help but zone out and just admire him in all his glory. Or when he would bring you food just because he knew you had forgotten to eat again. All the trinkets he would buy you because they reminded him of you. The way he made you feel so loved and cared for. Over the years, you had unknowingly fallen for him too. Kaveh may have only ever been your best friend, but in moments like those, moments where the light hit him just right, you wished he could have been more.

“No.”

“No?”

You lean across the table slightly, forcing him to look at you, “I can’t just ignore that. I can’t pretend you didn’t say it or that you never had feelings for me. I hate to admit it, but Kaveh, I had feelings for you too back then.”

It’s silent for a few moments. You give him the chance to speak, but he doesn’t take it. You take in a deep inhale and hesitantly speak, “I know it’s been a long time — years to be precise. And it pains me to say this, but I’m really happy the project worked out how it did. That opportunity from Zakai gave me more than I could ask for and…I’m glad it brought me back to you.”

“Yeah,” Kaveh scoffs playfully, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “Only after a painstaking amount of convincing.”

“Oh please, I had every reason to say no to you,” you refute, crossing your arms in defense, “And I wasn’t finished. What I was trying to say, was that, even though it’s been so many years, I don’t know where to go from here. But I…I don’t want us to go back to the way things were.”

Kaveh sighs, “I know. I don’t either. Obviously we both have things we need to work through. But, if you’re willing, I’d like to start over again. Not completely, of course. But I want us to be friends again, maybe one day even more…If you’ll have me, that is.”

“Okay,” you breathe out with a small smile. Although it took years and a painful amount of fighting, tears, and money, you had found each other again. Perhaps you couldn’t love each other now, but the feeling was without a doubt there. The pounding in your hearts and ache for one another was concrete proof of it.

And as Kaveh reaches out and takes your hand again for the first time in two years, he knows he’ll never let you go again.

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT Story - New Beginnings

“Dragon HRT?” I mumbled aloud to myself as I scrolled, stopping on the post, the title intriguing me. I looked through it and mostly found myself in disbelief - HRT that could turn you into another species, let alone a mythical one like a dragon, seemed like something someone had made up for clicks.

I would’ve just disregarded it as exactly that, however, the post did cause some feelings that had been kind of simmering in the back of my mind to rise to the surface. I’d always liked the idea of being something more - no that’s not really fair - but something else than human. A few things had appealed to me over the years, although they’d only been more fleeting things back then, but recently I’d been feeling them more strongly. My guess is that, having sorted out my gender and some of the medical transitioning for that (nearly 3 years on feminising hrt), it allowed my brain to notice the other things that weren’t quite right.

Much like with the post, I had pushed them out of the way as an impossibility - people couldn’t just be animals, that sounded crazy… but then so had a boy being able to be a girl, and here I was now. And as much as I had tried to ignore it, I had noticed the occasional phantom limb, primarily a tail, but also wings, that made it a little harder to just push away.

I looked over the post again, nothing new jumping out at me, so I continued scrolling. But the post still sat with me, idling away in my mind as I laughed at some funny remark about my favourite show.

***

2 months after seeing that first post, I came across another from the same person and was surprised and excited with what I saw. They hadn’t been making stuff up for attention, they actually were becoming a dragon. They only had some scales on their hands, as well as the beginnings of horns and their eyes were changing colours, but the pictures seemed legit.

I was stunned. Was it actually possible for people to change their species? Could I change my species? What species would I even be?

I caught myself - I hadn’t expected the latter pair of questions to come out, let alone so easily. Was that something I wanted? To become another species? Just a couple months ago that had seemed like an insane idea, but now I was excited by the thought? The wagging phantom tail did not help the side of me that wanted to deny this. I decided I’d wait it out a little longer, after all, this must be a fairly new procedure, no reason to charge into it so soon, and i clearly need to sort out my thoughts on it anyway

***

So there’s puppy hrt now, and mouse hrt too, and the dragon hrt is coming along really well. I’d also spent some time and kinda figured out my feelings as well, had realised I didn't wanna be human if I didn't have to. Could I survive the rest of my life as a human? Sure. Would I be happy? Uncertain. Did the idea of not being human make me excited and happy, in such a familiar way to the idea of actually being a girl? Yes.

I’d also been thinking about what I want to be, if not human. Obviously dragon appealed, and matched up with the phantom limbs I had, but I only wanted certain parts of that, not quite the whole package, so that one wasn’t quite for me. I also found the idea of something more traditional, like a catgirl appealing, but that didn’t quite sit right with me, and again, I only wanted parts. I actually went through a whole bunch of options, and while bits and pieces of some appealed, while others seemed like they’d be fun to mess around with, but not as a permanent arrangement, I was struggling to find one thing I’d want to be. Honestly the whole process made me question if I was just making it all up in my head. However I couldn’t shake the desire to leave behind my humanity, so I continued to ponder on it.

All which kind of led me to realise that what I really wanted was to be able to change at will, mix and match whatever I want - I wanted to be a shapeshifter… I.. was a shapeshifter, just stuck in human form by some accident of the universe or something I guess.

From there I began to look up where I could actually get my hands on some of this new hrt, and I found that there seemed to be one main doctor who was approving/handing out this new animal/therian hrt. However, when I looked him up, I came across 3 major issues 1) He seemed to operate out of this place called ‘Hyper City’ which I’d never heard of before, and couldn’t seem to find anything on any maps 2) He seemed unfriendly and had a long list of shitty gatekeepy requirements before he’d let you take the medication (seriously, how am I supposed to live as a ‘shapeshifter’ for two years?), which reminded me of stuff I’d read about similar ‘requirements’ for trans hrt that similarly ticked me off and 3) It was expensive and as I was already paying a bunch for regular hrt, that would be a problem.

However, my solution to similar issues with ‘human hrt’ gave me an idea to start looking into for this new flavour of hrt. As I mentioned, a lot of the clinics I originally looked into for my trans hrt had similar gatekeepy requirements before they would even consider you for hormone treatment, so I looked elsewhere and found a company who offered an informed consent model of treatment. So I decided to do much the same with this hrt, scouring the internet for any trace of a similar setup until eventually I found it!

It seemed like it had been set up relatively recently, but then given how new this therian hrt was, it only made sense. I spent some time looking around their website, checking what kind of things they needed (blood tests etc.) and how much this was going to cost (since apparently being yourself has to be profitable, even for people trying to help out somewhat better). While it was still a lot of money, it was less than the only other available, legitimate, method of doing this, so it at least seemed better.

Since one of the things they did require, asides from blood tests, was an initial meeting to ask some questions and check they understood what I wanted out of the treatment, I figured I could use that to also ask some questions of my own. So I booked the soonest appointment I could (fortunately they did video calls) and waited

***

“Hello?” 

A voice came through the computer as the video call lit up with the person on the other end, a youngish woman, late twenties to early thirties, dressed fairly casually, clearly sitting in some kind of home office. It seemed this would be the person talking to me to figure out what I needed. I was kinda happy to see that she had her pronouns (she/her) listed by her name (Anna) in the corner, but I would be lying if I wasn’t a little sad that she seemed to be human. I didn’t necessarily expect to talk to someone else like me immediately, but it would have been cool, and a part of me was holding out hope, but life’s not always so kind.

“Hello!” I replied cheerfully, smiling and giving a wave back through my own camera.

“Nice to meet you, Sandy, right? May I ask your pronouns?” Anna asked “Mine are she/her,” She added

“Oh, uh, yes, and uh, She/They,” I replied - I was always a little awkward whenever I had these kind of talks

“So… you want to start on humanity replacement therapy, that’s correct right?” She asked

I nodded, before quickly adding an assured “Yes!” in case the nod wasn’t clear enough on the stream “Good, right,” She said, glancing down to check her notes “And do you know what you would like to become instead?” She asked, making sure to look up at me as she asked this

“Shapeshifter!” I quickly blurted out, my excitement getting the better of me “I mean, uh, I’d like to be a shapeshifter,”

Anna smiled, “Shapeshifter?” She checked, looking back down at her papers “Well, I’m afraid to say we can’t do that,” I felt my heart drop, all my excitement rapidly turning to despair. 

This had been a possibility, in the back of my mind, after all even compared to a dragon, a shapeshifter was pretty out there. Being a mythical creature is one thing, being able to be any creature, or even anything seemed like a bit of a stretch.

However, it seemed that my dismay was premature as Anna continued to speak “Yes, I’m afraid we can’t do that unless you go on a different form of hrt first,” She explained, flicking through some of the papers “If you still want to go ahead with your humanity removal therapy, you will need to complete at least two years of a different therapy regime to create a base for the shapeshifter therapy,” She looked up to gauge my reaction

My reaction, of course, was happiness, especially after that moment of dread. Ok, so it was going to be a little while until I properly got on shapeshifter hrt, but 2 years wasn’t that long - it flew past for me on feminising hrt, so it should be fine here, plus, just ‘cause i wanna be everything, doesn’t mean I can’t survive a little bit of time as something else, first step is to just not be human

“Uh, you mentioned that I’d need to complete a different regime first, do I get to choose which one, or is there a specific one I’d have to take?” I asked, a little worried about the answer

“Don’t worry, you do get to choose,” Anna assured me with a smile “However you’ll have to choose from a selection, not all species are as suited for shapeshifting as others, I’ll send the link to a document listing them all in the chat,”

The link appeared and I opened it in another tab “Uh, should I read this now, or is there any more talking you want to do first?” I asked, not wanting to be rude, but my eyes would not stop flicking to the tab, nor would my phantom tail stop wagging from excitement

“You can take a moment to read through,” Anna gestured a ‘go ahead’ towards the camera

I flipped over to the tab, and was presented with a document. It started with a spiel about how these species are known for being able to naturally alter their physical properties, either in the real world, or in the mythologies they’re from, and so form the best bases for further shapeshifting hrt. I scanned the list, I noticed a few that I’d already looked at before I decided on shapeshifter, like dragon and kitsune, a couple i’d never considered but made total sense to be there, like mimics and squids, and some that i wouldn’t have associated with shapeshifting at all, like cats and snakes. 

However, despite all the many options that were available, there was one that really sang to me - slime. Seeing that there kind of seemed to slot the last piece I didn't know I was even missing into the puzzle - the idea of being a fluid being of goo just somehow seemed perfect to me, and I could actually feel myself getting a little emotional.

My emotions must have been obvious on my face as well, as I heard Anna chime in from the other tab “Is everything ok there?” She asked, although I could hear a slight smile in her voice, and I guessed I wasn’t the first one she’d seen through this

“Uh, yes, yes,” I replied, switching back over to the call tab “Just some, uh, unexpected emotions,” I told her honestly “But I think I’d like to be a slime,” I said, just getting the last words out around the lump of euphoria in my throat, and feeling a smile form on my face as I spoke the wish into being. 

Anna nodded, and a part of me was a little relieved that she wasn’t trying to contest me on anything, just talking to me and guiding me through everything, it was quite nice from what my fears had hypothesised. Anna shuffled through few more papers on her desk before looking back up at the camera “Ok Miss Slime,” She began and I felt a wave of both gender and what i’m guessing was species euphoria ripple through my body “Next you’ve gotta choose which kind of slime you’ll be,” She explained, dropping another link in the chat

I nodded, and as before opened the tab and looked at the options. This list was… much more extensive than the shapeshifting one had been, and there were categories and subcategories within subcategories. I hadn’t ever realised how many different kinds of slimes there could be. I saw ‘blood slime’ and ‘magma slime’ neither of which were appealing to me, metal slime did interest me a little, but it didn’t quite seem to sit right with me. I kept looking through at all the options until I came across one that felt right

“Uh, what exactly is the sap slime?” I asked “Just want to make sure I know what I’m choosing,” I added

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, a slime made of tree sap,” Anna told me “You can also pick the species of tree if you want to do that, or we can give you a more generic one,” She offered

I thought for a second “Do you have anything like maple syrup-y? I know that’s made from sap, so is there like sap-syrup slime? Doesn’t have to be maple if that’s possible, honestly I’d probably prefer it wasn’t maple if I can have a choice, while I don’t dislike maple syrup, it has a weird flavour I’d rather not replicate..” I half-trailed off, suddenly realising I’d been rambling a little

“I’m sure we can find you something like that,” Anna replied with a wry smile, adding some notes onto the paper before “For now I’ll put you down for a sap slime then, with a preference for syrupy,” She said. 

I smiled and nodded, confirming what she’d said.

“Well, that should be everything we need today, however I see you haven’t scheduled a physical examination,” Anna remarked

“Uh, yeah, I was going to do that after this, figured I’d see if I was even allowed before paying for the test,” I replied “But also a physical? I thought I just needed blood work?” I asked

“For simple human hormone replacement therapy, yes, however this is a little more extreme, and will completely change your biology, and so we need a more complete baseline to make sure your transition progresses nominally,” She explained

“That makes sense,” I replied “I doubt my GP will go along with this,” I added, knowing they hadn’t been ok with my gender transition, so they likely wouldn’t be with this either “So where will I take this physical?” I asked

“There's a clinic we work with that you can go to who will take the information we need and send it to us,” Anna told me, typing for a couple seconds before a link appeared in the chat “There’s the link you can use to setup an appointment for it,” She told me, as I copied the link for later “Do you know how to get to Hyper City? The clinic is there, so you will need to know how to get there,” She added

I shook my head “I’ve only see vague and weird sounding shtuff about it online, if it weren’t for the seemingly literal magic the treatment provides, I’d be inclined to believe that it was all made up,” I told her

“I can promise you it’s a very real place, I live there, and it’s where I’m talking to you from right now actually,” Anna replied, causing my eyes to widen a little “Since you don’t know how to get here, I’ll tell you, and it’s surprisingly simple,” She paused for a second before continuing “Simply head 20 minutes outside of wherever you live, any direction, any method of travel - so long as you control where you’re going, otherwise it might get a little complicated - you’ll find a road you’ve never seen before. Follow the road and it will take you to the city,” She explained “Depending on where exactly you live, you might be able to see the city from further away, and it might have some strange interactions with the natural surroundings, but that’s nothing to worry about,” She added “As for getting back, simply leave through the archway you enter through and you’ll find yourself back where you came in,”

I nodded, before my brain actually started to properly process what she had said “That sounds… unbelievable, but again, I am trying to turn myself into a slime, so unbelievable is the flavour of the day,” I replied “So just 20 minutes out of town and I’ll find it?” I checked, receiving a nod of confirmation from the other side of the screen “That’s going to be interesting around here…” I muttered

“Regardless, if you set up an appointment and get your physical done, you can then request a prescription for your medications. They can be delivered to your home, however, due to some difficulties sending things from Hyper City to other places, it can be somewhat more expensive, so it may be preferable for you to collect them yourself from our associated pharmacy in the city,” She explained. I nodded, frowning a little at the idea of extra costs, however it did prompt a question I had been meaning to ask during this meeting

“Will I still have to take my ‘human’ hrt alongside this? Y’know, for, uh, trans stuff,” As i had spoken i realised I hadn’t mentioned that I was trans before, and while I assumed people working with non-human hrt wouldn’t have a problem with it, it still felt a little awkward to bring up

Anna however, seemed nonplussed, and simply took a moment to think “I’m not one of the doctors who understands the science of this, however, I do believe that there is a point after which your biology will have changed sufficiently that human hormones, and so human hormone therapy, will no longer have a meaningful effect on your body,” She explained “If you want to know the specifics, you can use one of the contact forms on the website to find out, since those can be passed onto the doctors,” She explained

I nodded again, I couldn’t expect her to know all the details of the medicine, and it was nice to hear that I could get a better answer to my question. It also made me surprisingly happy to hear that human hormones would cease to have an effect on my body, despite all the work I'd done to get on them in the first place.

“One more thing I need to ask about: Have you told anyone about your desire to transition, to be a shapeshifter and a slime?” Anna asked

I was a little caught off by her question, but I should have expected it “My partner knows, and is supportive, but, uh, outside of that no, no one else really knows,” I told her

“Do you live with your partner?” She returned

I shook my head “No, uh, we just talk online and stuff,” I explained

“It is highly recommended that you have a support network, and while online support can be very helpful, I am required to specifically recommend some in person support as well,” She told me, once again typing in the chat “I’m sending a link to a support group that’s started up for people taking non-human hrt, and I would highly suggest attending,” 

I took a moment to quickly copy the link to somewhere more permanent before replying “Thanks, I’ll, uh, try to make sure I go at some point,” I told her

“Good,” She responded “Well, I’ve asked all I need to know for this session, so we are finished if you have no more questions you want to ask?” Anna offered

“No, nothing I can think of right now,” I told her

“Well, then it was lovely to meet you Sandy, and I wish you good luck on your journey,” 

“Thank you! It was nice to meet you too, goodbye!”

***

I glanced at my phone again 20 minutes out of town, that’s what she said I thought to myself as I looked along the road, which of course had no pavement, so I had spent plenty of time over my, albeit brief, trek out here half-throwing myself into hedges to avoid cars. Regardless, I was coming up on the 20 minute mark, and so looked around for any signs of the city.

And I definitely found them.

As I looked to my left, over where normally there were just fields, I could see skyscrapers and lights jutting out of the landscape where normally there’d be clear skies. It was… weird to say the least, but at least it told me I was doing things right. 

I went a little further down the road, and eventually spotted a path that I was fairly certain hadn’t been there before, not to mention that it clearly led to the shining collection of buildings that seemed to have spawned in the fields. I figured by some sort of magical shenanigans that no-one else could see this as I suspected a city spontaneously appearing in the middle of a field would have drawn some kind of attention beyond my own, and yet no-one else seemed to pay it any heed.

As I crossed over and headed down the road, I couldn’t help but notice that the city seemed to intersect with a few of the hedges marking the field boundaries, however it seemed to pass through without either entity having issue, and honestly my mind was having an odd time trying to resolve exactly what was going on. I figured it was some kinda magic shenanigan and decided I could ask about it later if I really wanted to know about it.

Eventually I reached an archway, after which passing through I was greeted with a ‘Welcome to Hyper City’ sign just off the road next to me. I took a second to properly marvel at the city up close now, before pulling out my phone and opening the screenshotted directions to the clinic and beginning to follow them.

As I walked around, following the directions as best I could, I noticed a few shops that caught my eye, all advertising fantastical products and services that definitely seemed magical in nature. However, as intriguing as they seemed, I had an appointment to keep, and so took each turn my instructions told me. 

As I got closer to my destination, I also began to notice another thing of note: there were people, but not simply human, I could see people with scales, furs, ears, tails, and horns, albeit all in various stages of development. It warmed my heart to see others out in the world who had taken the same path I was trying to start on, while at the same time also sparking some envy that they had already started, while I was still stuck in this human form. In an attempt to avoid staring too much, I focused my attention back onto my phone, settling for courteous glances at any other interesting people I saw along the way.

I did eventually, of course, find my way to the clinic, walking through the doors and giving my name over to the receptionist so she could find the information for my appointment

“You’ll be with Dr. Othek Inn, please wait in the waiting room to be called up,” She told me, and I promptly did as instructed

I continued to people watch in between scrolling on my phone, spying more people who were clearly also here for similar reasons as me amongst all the humans. It was sad to see that some of the people were looking at them with looks of disdain and displeasure, but I guessed even here there wouldn’t be escaping that kind of prejudice, which deflated me a little. 

It wasn’t too long until I was called up to my appointment. I walked into the room I was directed towards and was met with Dr. Othek, a tall, darker skinned man with longer black hair pulled back into a professional looking ponytail 

“You must be Sandy, correct?” He asked me, his voice deep but quite jovial as he looked up from the computer he had just been typing on and gestured to a nearby seat. I nodded. “And you’re here for the full physical in preparation for taking humanity replacement therapy correct?”

I nodded again “Uh, yes,” I told him

“So what kind of creature are you?” He asked, and I felt a euphoric burst at the acknowledgement of my inhumanity

“Shapeshifter,” I told him, my voice a little excited from the euphoria, which i quickly toned down before adding “Uh, but I have to become a slime first, since I guess the human body doesn’t respond well to the shapeshifter treatment or something,”

“Shapeshifter and a slime? Interesting, think you’re the first one with that particular combination that I’ve seen,” the doctor replied

“Couldn’t pick one form, so why not have any I want,” I said, a little jokingly with a shrug and a smile

“Most people would wait until they had a clearer decision before heading into something so life changing,” Dr. Othek pointed out, and while I didn’t particularly feel any judgement in his tone, the words still stung

“It’s not really ‘indecision’ though, it’s that I’d feel trapped in any one form - human, dragon, shark, tiger, even something like slime, although that would at least be somewhat bearable,” I explained “I need to be able to change, shift, flow, and alter myself at will and on a whim, become as tall as a building and as small as a mouse just because that’s what I feel like, and being stuck in one form feels like a jail made of bones and sinew,”

The man chuckled a little and smiled “Forgive me, you clearly have thought about this, and made a very clear decision,” He replied, and I blushed a little, suddenly realising I’d been rambling and gushing to what was essentially a random stranger, even if he was a seemingly supportive medical professional

“Sorry, I just have kinda strong feelings about it,” I told him sheepishly

“As you should, this is who you are, and it’s important to be assured of that,” He replied “And to that end, shall I proceed with the examination?” He asked

“Oh, uh, yes,” I replied

Over the next  hourish I was poked, prodded, stabbed, and otherwise measured in all the various medical ways needed to ascertain my bodily health ahead of my transition. Fortunately I managed to avoid fainting when my blood was taken (as I am ever prone to do - nothing to do with the blood, I’m just kinda prone to fainting in certain conditions), only needing to lie down for a little while, so all of the tests we completed without issue.

We sat back down after the final examination, and Dr. Othek finished entering the last of my details into the system before turning back to me.

“Well, it looks like you’re fairly healthy, a little overweight, but nothing that infringes on your health, so, besides from getting the results of your blood test, I can safely give the greenlight for you to start your transition,” He told me

I beamed, feeling my phantom tail wagging behind me, a little grateful that the doctor couldn’t see it, even if my face likely showed it just as much “That’s awesome! Well, asides the overweight thing, but if that’s not a problem, I’ll focus on the positives,” I said

“Yes, well, you’ll have to wait a couple weeks for the blood tests to be finished, and once those results have come in, you can be allowed a prescription to actually begin your medical transition,” the doctor explained

I nodded “Gonna be a long couple of weeks,” I replied with a slightly pained smile

“I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait,”

I bid farewell shortly after that, and headed back out, ready to wait until the blood tests were done, and I could truly begin my foray into inhumanity. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, I decided to kinda rewrite the start of slime hrt, and this is the new 'start' of it. Technically the next thing will be the first diary entry type part, but i wanted to do this story form first.

Next

Tag list under cut (lmk if ya wanna be added!)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[girls-alias]

Dean's Dream P7

Title: Dean's Dream P7

Part 6

Words: 1,979

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Sad.

Masterlist

Prompt:

Dean is captured by a Djinn and dreams of Y/N.

It's been a year now. A whole year of pain and false hope. Today's the anniversary and the feelings from waking up haven't changed. I still look for her and wonder where I had seen her for her to be in my dream. I think I hear her voice, I think I see her smile, I think I see her in the distance but it's never her. I can't count the tears I cried for her, the tears that fell for the woman and the life I had lost. There were no words available to me that could truly express my loss.

Sam had tried everything, I appreciated his help but there was no way to understand or help, he didn't get it. Yeah, he lost Jess but losing Y/N was different in my eyes. I only had her for a day before she was gone again, and yet she promised me perfection; it would have been easy to give me all she had promised.

Sam knew the anniversary today. The anniversary of the day I gained nothing but lost it all. I will admit, I lost the plot a little. I began looking for djinns just so they could take me back to her but Sam always stopped me or they were well hidden.

I groaned as Sam slammed his fist against my bedroom door. I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. If there was ever a day that I should be left alone it was today, Sam didn't recognise that or if he did, he didn't care.

"Come on, Dean," He commented loudly as he walked in. I considered using the gun under my pillow. "I already moved your gun, come on. We're going out," He explained he knew what I was thinking. He sighed when I showed no indication of getting up. With a fast swipe, he pulled the blanket off me. I looked up at the ceiling, silently praying for the strength to deal with him today.

I sat up, groaning as I wiped my eyes. "Look, Sam. I'm not in the mood," I explained, anger lacing my tone even though I was trying to sound calm.

"I know but this could be good," He tried, he took a seat at the edge of my bed, looking at me hopefully. I rolled my eyes at his false hope. The stupid hope I had lost not too long ago. "So, you said the houses looked like they were in Salt Lake. I know we've already looked but what if she's looking today as well. She might be looking for you too," I wanted to hope. A month ago, I would already be on those streets searching for her but today, I knew it was a waste of time. I had made her up, she wasn't real.

Y/N'S POV:

"Dean!" I tried to scream but a tube down my throat stopped me. I choked on it slightly. My eyes quickly wandered around the room. Where's Dean?!

I quickly learned I had been in a coma for nearly 3 months. Doctors didn't expect me to wake, I showed no signs of waking but I knew it was because of Dean. I had asked nurses where he was, asking when he was coming back but they explained sadly that I had no visitors. Really no one? When I was a little more stable, a kind doctor explained that I was brought in for a car crash, my family were in the car but I was the only survivor. He asked if I remembered the crash but I can't remember anything before Dean. I don't remember being young, I don't remember who I was, in my mind, I was Dean's and he was mine.

Therapists took an interest in my case as they all seemed to want to examine my brain. They all explained that dream comas were common but the fact I believed it so deeply and couldn't remember anything before it made my case even more appealing to them. They would try and coax new answers out of me, each week asking if I had remembered anything new, each time growing a little more frustrated that my memory made no improvement but I was fine with that, my whole being believing Dean and my time with him wasn't a dream.

"Oh, I won't make it to my next session," I explained nonchalantly as I gathered my bag and stood from my chair. My therapist, Noah, looked at me confused. I smiled at the thought. "I'm going to Salt Lake City to find Dean," I explained but his eyes showed sorrow. His smile faded and tightened into a thin line.

"Y/N, I don't want to upset you but you've already looked, it was just a dream," He reminded me though I'd never be able to forget his opinion as he says it multiple times in one session. I rolled my eyes.

"I already bought the coach tickets and I have it planned out this time," I explained but his unimpressed expression told me he doesn't believe me. I sighed, pulling the map from my pocket. I opened it, flattening it on his coffee table. "I start here," Pointing to the coach station. "I'll walk up to the house we had, stay there for about an hour, walk to Sam's house, this way and then get coffee from his favourite cafe and stay local until my coach leaves," I explained, often following the route I would walk with my finger. He looked between me and the map unconvinced. I rolled my eyes again. "It's been a whole year if he's going there to look for me, it'll be today,"

Dean's POV:

I groaned sitting back in my seat as Sam drove us to Salt Lake City. A part of me wondered if I actually would see her but I fear getting my hopes up because it will only hurt more.

Y/N'S POV:

I stepped off the coach with a wide smile, holding my backpack straps as I looked around hopefully. Please be here!

I started my walk to the house. Music played through my earphones as I walked, smiling happily at everyone I passed, once I made it to the neighbourhood I smiled even wider. I looked at the house, the dream. I sighed, a little disheartened he wasn't already waiting for me. I took a deep breath, strutted over to the house and took a seat on the curb, I took my earphones out so I could listen out for him calling my name. My attention turned to my book to pass the time but I could barely focus. Any noise and I was looking around for him. I wonder if he'll look different. I wonder if he smells different. I can't lose hope.

Dean's POV:

As we drove the streets that felt familiar and heartbreaking, I found myself looking around for her. I shouldn't have got my hopes up but Sam's right. If she's looking for me, it will be today.

The houses began feeling more and more familiar, and recognising them only made me gasp. "Turn left," I instructed eagerly.

Y/N'S POV:

I had been sitting on the curb, coming up to two hours now, I was getting anxious not seeing him but plastered a smile on my face. I started the walk to Sam's house. Following the route, we had driven a year ago.

Dean's POV:

"Stop, stop," I opened the door before he even stopped. I rushed up the path and porch steps knocking quickly. I found it! I found the house. I waited impatiently before a man answered the door looking at me confused. I looked at him slightly confused as I expected Y/N, my beautiful Y/N. "Sorry, doesn't Y/N live here?" I asked, looking past his shoulder slightly.

"No, I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong house," He explained. I sighed.

"Thanks anyway," I turned back, walking back as Sam stood, door open looking over the car. He looked at me hopefully but I shook my head. I climbed in resting my head on the headrest. Sam got back in, apologising for my heart breaking another time.

"We'll wait here, maybe she'll think the same thing," Sam said hopefully. I ignored him as I rested my head on the side, mindlessly looking out the window, a tear falling from my eyes with ease.

Y/N'S POV:

I made it to Sam's house surprised. The house had been pulled down to make room for a kid's park that was still in construction. I sighed continuing on to Dean's favourite cafe. It was a long shot he would remember it but it's still something.

I made it in, ordering myself a drink before taking a seat at a table. All my plans felt like a waste of time. Maybe Noah and everyone else was right. Maybe I truly did dream of him. Maybe I was making myself crazy by believing it. I put my headphones in, resting my cheek on my palm as I practically sulked while reading. My heartbreak echoed through the air. I wiped the tears as they fell. All hope faded to nothingness.

Dean's POV:

I reluctantly guided Sam to the house he had lived at. Finding it was a park under construction only hurt my heart more.

"Let's just get some coffee and have a think about it," He suggested but I just want to go home.

We parked up, finding a coffee shop further down the street. I sighed, heading straight for the tables as Sam went to the counter to order our drinks. I took a seat, noticing the seat behind me was unoccupied but a book and backpack saved the seat. I sighed, resting my head in my crossed arms as I waited for Sam.

Y/N'S POV:

I got back to my seat, barely paying attention to anything around me. I moved my backpack onto the table, carefully climbing into my seat as a troubleman took a seat behind my chair. I sat, my headphones returning to my ears as I resumed my position, reading with my cheek on my palm.

Dean's POV:

Sam came over, drinks in hand as he took a seat opposite me. I drank hastily. I just want to leave. Sam began brainstorming things we could do to look for her. I sighed, resting my chin on my palm as I rolled my eyes. I don't have the strength in me anymore.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Y/N checked her watch. Sighing a final time, she rose from her seat, gathering her things and leaving the table.

"I need the bathroom," Dean instructed, getting up from his seat. She looked down at her phone as she changed the song on her playlist, a song full of rage playing through them as she felt numb, the heartbreak can only hurt so much before you feel nothing.

Though expected they did not see each other. It seemed to have been timed imperfectly. If she had waited one moment later or if he had got up one second earlier they would have bumped into each other. Yet she still walked out of the cafe and he still went to the bathroom. Neither knew their true love was behind them and neither knew their breaking hearts could have been healed with one second. One second either of them could have changed to meet but neither knew, and neither would know. She still got on her coach, and he still drove home. Both believed the dream was fake and both left, their heart empty and souls crushed.

If they knew how close they were to having the reunion, it would only hurt them more. Both lost hope, neither looking for each other again. The emptiness never fades and pain never heals. He owned her heart and she his, forever.

Masterlist

Part 8

[hischierswhore]

drunk calls

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: mentions of alcohol // drinking // mentions of a breakup

Your break up with Christian, your boyfriend of 2 years, definitely took a toll on you. You isolated yourself from the outside world, preferring to stay in the comfort of your home, not wanting to risk being hurt again. You found yourself thinking about him, even after a month. In fact, you've only been able to think about him since the moment he walked out the front door of your apartment.

And that brings us here: you're sitting in bed, staring blankly at your laptop as your mind drifts back to when you last saw his gorgeous smile...and wondering how in the hell things got so screwed up between the two of you.

When did everything go wrong? How could it be possible for you and the love of your life to become nothing more than strangers after everything you'd been through together?

As you think, the clock ticks away over on the wall, reminding you that it is now almost 2 am. What was supposed to have been an easy evening at home with just a little bit of internet browsing turned into hours spent dwelling on what went wrong between the pair of you.

-

"Y/n, I'm telling you. You need to go out and stop torturing yourself" your friend Sadie says in exasperation as she sits down beside you on your sofa.

"I know it hurts, but you can't live like this forever" For a moment, you let out a pitiful groan, burying your head in your hands, causing your friend to put her arm around you, giving you a comforting hug.

"It just doesn't make any sense. We loved each other" You say as you lift your head to stare directly at your closest confidant, needing to see her face for some sort of reassurance.

"I know you loved him, but he broke your heart, Y/n. There's no going back from that" She replies with her own personal version of sympathy, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

"How about we go out tonight?" She suggests quietly, resting her chin upon your shoulder. Her suggestion makes sense; you don't want to sit alone at home while you replay the whole situation again and again in your head.

"We can find a club, get drunk, dance all night long..." She starts, but you don't let her finish her sentence before you're nodding your head in agreement. The very thought of doing something as pointless as drinking until you feel numb seems strangely appealing right now.

"Great idea, come on, lets go!" You both stand up from your seats, making your way to your bedroom to get dressed.

-

As you and Sadie entered the club, you both made a beeline for the bar. Tonight would be a good night to start getting drunk. If you were honest with yourself, you just wanted to forget all about Christian and drown your sorrows in alcohol.

At least, that's what you hoped.

You took your first sip of a dark red wine, savouring the taste and feeling it run smoothly down your throat, before taking another sip. Sadie drank two glasses of wine before calling it a night, stating that she was the designated driver for the pair of you. You, on the other hand, decided to push the envelope a little more, ordering 2 more drinks at the bar, downing them almost immediately.

You couldn't remember the last time you felt this free, having gotten completely hammered on just 3 drinks. At times, the lights seemed to turn on their side, spinning dizzyingly as they circled the room, accompanied by flashing colors of purple, orange and green.

The rest of the night was a blur. You vaguely remember Sadie telling you that she was leaving to go hookup with some dude she met at the bar, abandoning you at the club, drunk and alone.

After another hour, you decided you wanted to leave, so you turned on your phone and scrolled through your contacts and tapped on the one you were most used to calling.

Christian.

"Pick up pick up pick up" You drunkenly mumbled to yourself.

"Y/n???"

"Oh my god, heyyyy. Your voice is like, really hot right now"

"Y/n... you sound drunk...where are you?"

"What do you mean where am I? I'm at a club with Sadie. Duh." You mumbled, before taking a deep breath.

"Well, Sadie left to go get some, but I'm still here. You know, enjoying the vibes" Your speech was slurring as you spoke.

"Y/n, I know you're probably drunk off your ass right now, but please stay right where you are. I'm coming to get you" You sat in silence for a few seconds before realizing he had actually hung up.

-

Less than 5 minutes later, Christian had arrived at the club. He only knew which club you were at because that was the only club you liked going to. He jumped out of his car and raced inside to find you. As he cut through the crowds, he saw you sitting on one of the leather couches. He let out a breath of relief as he approached you.

"Hey sweetheart" His warm voice pulled you from your thoughts of the different colors you saw floating throughout the club. It felt as though you had sobered up almost instantaneously just by hearing his voice.

He pulled you up gently, placing his hands under your armpits and supporting your weight against his chest, carrying you out of the building. As he stepped outside onto the sidewalk, he placed you into the passenger seat. He sat behind the wheel of the car, glancing over at you before beginning his drive.

"Drink this. It'll help" He handed you a bottle of water to help you sober up.

"So what exactly were you doing at a club with Sadie?" He cleared his throat before speaking, leaning forward slightly in his seat to gaze through the windshield.

"Trying to forget" you replied honestly, keeping your eyes focused ahead of you while slowly drinking the water bottle. Christian quickly glanced at you as you answered.

"What were you trying to forget about?" He questioned.

"That's a stupid question" You retorted dryly before you looked at him, unable to read his expression due to your current state.

"You... and us..." You whispered, feeling sorry for yourself. A frown appeared on Christian's lips as he listened to your confession.

"Why did you want to forget about us?"

"Because it hurts too much to think about what we had and then it all suddenly got taken away from me" You buried your head deeper into your lap, wishing you hadn't spoken up. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting out a shaky exhale before speaking again.

"I don't know why I did it" He added. He heard you sniffle loudly, so he reached over to squeeze your hand reassuringly.

"I know you may hate me, but I do love you. I don't want you to feel like it was anything you did. It was all my fault" He continued softly.

"You don't need to carry around guilt for things that weren't your fault. Don't punish yourself for my stupidity" You nodded, gazing out of the window instead of looking at him. He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You had never been so close to tears.

"I hope you know that I don't hate you" You finally found yourself speaking up, your voice shakier than ever. Christian turned his head to face you.

"I couldn't possibly hate you, Chris. I love you too much to do that" You whispered before turning to meet his eyes. He smiled sadly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him.

-

Once he had driven to your house, he helped guide you out of the car and up to your front door. You handed him the key, allowing Christian to turn the lock and open the door before guiding you inside. He led you upstairs, opening your bedroom door and leading you to your bed.

"I'll go grab you some make-up wipes. You just uh... stay here and get changed into something comfy" He whispered as he disappeared into your bathroom.

While he was gone, you took advantage of the opportunity and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a random hoodie. Moments later, Christian walks back in with a pack of wipes in hand. He freezes as the sight of you.

"Is that my hoodie?" His question causes you to look down and take a look at what you were wearing. It was indeed his hoodie.

"Oh, yeah I guess it is. Do you want it back-" You asked but were cut off mid-sentence.

"No, keep it. It looks better on you anyways" He gave you a soft smile before removing one makeup wipe from the package and wiping it across your face.

"Thank you" You murmured as you watched him put away the unused ones. An awkward tension filled the room as you both sat in silence.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you still love me?" You questioned the man in front of you.

"I wouldn't lie about that, Y/n. I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love you. Even though I'm an absolute idiot, I want to make us work" He admitted.

"Then how about we give it another try?" You stated firmly.

"I'd really like that" He smiled at you, before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he made his way to the exit.

"Chris" You shouted in attempt to grab his attention. He turned around at the mention of his name.

"Stay with me, please" You gave him a look and he knew he wouldn't be able to say no to you. Having already been in a pair of sweatpants, Christian slid into bed next to you, initially keeping himself at a far enough distance to not make you uncomfortable, but you pulled him closer to you anyways.

You laid in his arms as you began to feel yourself fall into a deep slumber, his hands slowly rubbing your back.

"I love you, princess" was all that could be heard as you were finally fell asleep in Christian's arms once again.

-

TAGLIST

@ithinkimokeei @myheartgoesvroom @mounthings @tall-tanned-tattoo @itsnotgray @alwaysclassyeagle @charlewiss @pianoisland @chelseagirl98 @lovelynikol16 @username-envy

[glamoureddreamer]

A sick Cross

Undertale (Bad sans poly)

Warnings: angst, fluff, emetophobia warning(fear of vomiting), depression, self worth issues (please let me know if I’ve missed anything)

If you or a loved one is in need of help in anyway please get help from one of the multiple help hotlines. You matter and you deserve help. Thank you everyone, have a great day and know it gets better <3

“Cross.” Nightmare says appearing in front of him. Cross jumps coming out of his daze.

“Y-yes boss?” Cross stands up to show respect, he wobbles a little. His skull was pounding, he had to stifle a groan.

“I’ve called your name a few times,” Cross’s sockets widen.

“I’m sorry-“

“Are you alright?” Nightmare asked with a gentle tone that Cross had never heard from him.

“What..?”

“Are you alright? You’ve been acting off all day, if you need anyone to speak to you can always confide in me.”

“Y-yes I’m okay,” He lied. Cross felt his anxiety spike up, if Nightmare knew he was sick surely he would get upset. He didn’t have time to rest, he needed to do his job.

“What is the matter?” Nightmares asked seeing right through his lie.

“I-“

“Don’t lie this time.”

“I’m sorry boss, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, he was really tired he also just happened to feel sick. Nightmare gave him a look of skepticism.

“You haven’t had much to eat today… Just because you are new doesn’t mean you need to hide yourself from me, you are safe here. You can trust me.”

Cross didn’t know how to answer, a part of him truly wanted to believe that but he knew better. Why was Nightmare being nice- he didn’t deserve it.

“But,” Nightmare says, not sounding entirely convinced. “If you truly are just tired, why not head to bed, then? I‘ll have the others handle the rest of your chores.”

Cross stared at him for a moment in hesitation. He felt guilty, he needed to push through and do his job. It was his turn to do the household chores.

“No boss I can-” He asked.

“It was not a request, go lay down. It’s an order.” Nightmare said sternly but still in a caring manner, Cross froze before nodding.

“Yes, boss.” He said before slowly turning away and walking to his room.

Cross felt bad about turning down the Horror’s food again.

Horror always seemed very unhappy if he refused to eat. Horror’s food was good, so good but he just wasn’t hungry and the thought of eating didn’t seem appealing. Eating only made him feel worse, besides he didn’t deserve it.

Cross pushed open his door which felt much heavier than before. He sighs and gets out of his million layers of clothes, he felt so hot but so cold. He knew he was sick but he could push it aside, he’ll probably feel better in the morning anyway.

Cross lays down in his bed in nothing but a blank t-shirt and shorts. He covers up and shuts the lights off. His mind drifts off to Nightmare and his gang.

They all seemed so welcoming to him when Nightmare took him in less than a month ago. Like he was a part of their family. Why? Why was Nightmare nice to him? Nightmare is the embodiment of negativity, wasn’t he supposed to be evil and uncaring? Was this just a plan to take him down?

He thinks of many terrible things before finally slipping into unconsciousness.

~~~

Cross woke up suddenly from a bad dream about his home au.

He was quick to sit up breathing heavily, he felt so disoriented.

Even though he was tired, scared, and confused he felt his stomach start to turn.

Cross‘s sockets widen he quickly takes the covers off and gets out the bed. He tried to run to the bathroom but falls to the floor, everything was spinning.

Cross on his hands and knees pukes onto the once shiny marble floor. Cross shook violently as he threw up all his stomach contents.

Cross began to cry, he didn’t fully understand why.

Was it pain? Was it because it scared him?

He wanted Nightmare.

That thought shocked him but he’ll think about it later. It felt like his whole body was on fire, especially his stomach. He couldn’t stop the sobs that tore through him with every few ragged breaths he took.

Cross begins to dry heave over the puddle of puke.

A hand gently touched his back, his breath hitches as he looks up in fear and relief.

It was Nightmare, and his soul sank.

“B-boss..?” He managed to choke out through his sobs. Nightmare kneeled next to him taking in the situation.

Nightmare began to rub his back soothingly. Cross immediately felt relief.

Though it felt good Cross was still quick to try and pull away.

It hurt his soul to do so, he wanted to be held, and be told it was okay. He didn’t deserve it, especially not now. He made a mess, Nightmare was surely pissed at him.

He began to hyperventilate at the thought of Nightmare being mad at him. He was going to put him back in his empty au- all alone.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t m-mean to ruin the f-floor!” Cross says crying harder, Nightmare carefully takes Cross’s hand and rubs it.

“Shh, shh…” Nightmare hushed him gently.

“Please! Pl-please don’t abandon me!”

“Shhh, Cross, it’s okay. I’m not going to abandon you…”

Cross tried to speak, but all that came out were miserable sobs and heavy breaths as tears poured down his face.

He was nauseous, dizzy, and hot. He just wanted to go back to sleep, he didn’t was Nightmare to leave.

“Are you able to stand?” Nightmare softly asked when Cross’s sobs had subsided.

Cross tries to force himself to stand, but his arms shake. He felt so weak, he whimpered. It took a few moments and Nightmare had to help him stand, but he carefully brought the sick skeleton to his bathroom.

Cross hovered over the toilet, it felt like he had to puke but nothing was coming out.

Nightmare sat next to him, gently rubbing his back. Cross dry heaves into the toilet, tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt so frustrated and just wanted to feel better.

He needed to be better so Nightmare doesn’t abandon him.

“Cross,” Nightmare said gently, squeezing his shoulder a little. “Take some deep breaths for me, okay?”

Cross tearfully followed Nightmare’s instructions to breathe in and out. While Cross practiced breathing Nightmare praised him.

“You're doing so good Cross, it’s okay just focus on breathing and me okay?”

Cross’s soul ached he only wanted to cry more from the praise, he didn’t deserve it.

Nightmare eventually stopped and Cross was able to fully calm down. Now he only hiccuped softly. Once he was calm Nightmare gently touches Cross’s head.

“You’re burning up,” He said with a worried sigh.

“Do you still feel like getting sick?” Cross thought for a moment before shaking his head slowly.

“Then I’ll be right back, okay?”

Cross wanted to shake his head in protest, but he didn’t was Nightmare to leave. He didn’t want to be alone, tears fill his sockets again when Nightmare left anyway. Cross pulled his knees to his chest, trying his best not to cry.

A hand touched his shoulder he looked up hoping for Nightmare but instead found Dust and Horror.

Horror was kneeling by him. Dust pulls his hand away and gets on Cross’s other side.

“Can I sit?” Cross nods carefully, finding it a little strange he asked.

Before Cross could even ask why they were there, Horror laid his broken skull on Cross’s shoulder.

“It…‘kay..we… here…now...” Horror spoke slowly. It greatly comforted Cross, but he still wondered why they were here and more importantly why they cared.

“Nightmare told us to come watch you, he said you are scared to be alone.” Dust said as if reading his mind.

Oh. So they didn’t want to be here...

“You can go then,” Cross whispered curling himself up tighter.

“I don’t want to feel like you guys have to do this.” Tears roll down his face, Horror hugs him tightly.

Dust shifted slightly then his head was pulled up by his chin. Dust forced him to look at him.

“That’s not what I meant. We want to help you, we want to be here for you. But you need to let us in.” Dust wipes Cross’s face cleaning the vomit off him. He throws the toilet paper into the trash and carefully wipes the skeleton's tears.

“I was very untrusting of Nightmare and the others too, I don’t think there’s any Sans out there who throws his trust towards anyone but Nightmare is good.” Cross couldn’t find his voice, it’s not that he didn’t trust them. He did, more than he’d like to admit.

“He makes sure we are all safe, taken care of, and happy,” Killer said from the doorway, he wore the same grin he always did but it was different. He seemed worried. His soul that was usually a target was now an inverted heart.

“I…” Cross says looking for the right words to say, debating if he should even say this.

“I don’t deserve that.. any of it.” He whispers, and he pulls his head away from Dust’s hands.

“Being happy?” Dust asked.

“That’s dumb I knew you were an idiot.” Killer chuckled. Nightmare came up from behind Killer, Error was at his side.

“Cross I have never seen anyone so selfless-“

“Oh! My pride!” Killer joked trying to ease the tension.

“Hush, You are deserving of happiness and love. I am so sorry you beloved otherwise.”

Cross looked at the floor as Nightmare spoke. Horror and Dust both got up from beside him.

They were probably leaving him...

Right when Cross thought they were leaving someone picked him up. He made a noise in surprise.

“Horror?” He said nothing as all of them walked out of his now clean room and down the halls stopping at one room.

It was Nightmare’s bedroom. Cross only knew it was his room because the door was a deep purple, Nightmare had told him if he ever needed him that he would be here or in his office.

“What if I get sick?” Cross asked being laid down in the huge comfortable bed.

“I put a bucket right on the floor. Just lean over it if you start to feel bad.”

“But what if I-“ Nightmare stops him.

“Whatever your about to say it’ll be okay, we’re not worried about anything in here getting thrown up on. We are here to comfort you.”

Cross only nodded.

“Can we get into bed with you?” Nightmare asked politely, Cross nodded.

“To do what?”

“Cuddle you of course- damn that fever must’a knocked up your brain.” Killer chuckles.

Nightmare cuddles Cross on one side on the other Horror cuddles him. Dust cuddles Horror and Killer cuddles Nightmare. Error made a hammock with his strings and laid in it close to the bed.

Cross felt much better like he could be happy. Cross could feel him being pulled into a peaceful sleep by Nightmare rubbing his back.

“Thank you,” Cross whispered sleep taking over him.

“You don’t have to thank us for taking care of you, we all love you Cross.” Nightmare whispers back to the already sleeping skeleton.

He places a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight Cross.”

[theygotlost]

ohhhhhh my god guys I gotta give you an update but i need to explain my entire job history for the past year first cause its a little confusing uh.

so feb-may I did this internship at this real estate digital marketing firm and I was just making social media graphics there. just instagram stories and shit. and it was boring as hell but I needed to find a job cause I was graduating, and I was hoping they would hire me but they didnt have the space for a new full time employee at the time so... that was a bust.

in june and july I was applying to jobs foreverrrrr and getting nowhere so I said fuck it i need SOMETHING to hold me over, so I started working in the print department at staples as you are all well aware. at least it would be relevant enough to put on my resume cause I do want to make print graphics right? so its something.

then like 6 weeks ago my manager from the internship reached out to me and said she wanted to take me back part time after all. so for the past month and a half I've been working 2 part time jobs, one at staples and one at this marketing office doing the exact same fuckass ig stories as before. i wont lie its been exhausting and unsustainable so I was still applying for other full time design jobs cause I had no idea how long I could keep this up.

about 3 weeks ago I got an interview for one of those jobs I applied for and they explained that they were actually looking for a senior designer which obviously im not qualified for, but they liked my portfolio enough that they wanted to consider CREATING a junior designer role for me which was CRAZYYY to hear... it's a hawaiian bbq restaurant chain and I'm definitely wayyy more interested in designing for food and beverage stuff than real estate, plus a few other aspects about the job sounded really appealing to me and the interview went great so I was really hoping to get that job. but then I didn't hear back and Im so desensitized to getting ghosted after interviews i stopped getting my hopes up a long time ago.

a week and a half ago management at my real estate job told me that they were finally ready to bring me on full time, and since it didnt seem like I had any other prospects I wasnt really in a position to turn it down, so I immediately accepted and put in my 2 weeks at staples. this saturday will hopefully be the last day i ever have to work retail forever. I didnt make any announcement here when I found out because its honestly been making me depressed thinking about doing nothing but making fuckass instagram stories for ugly real estate companies 40 hours a week and people congratulating me on it would just make me more depressed. I wasn't supposed to start full time there until the monday after thanksgiving so ive still been doing my double part time grind.

but then......

whats that....???

THE HAWAIIAN BBQ RESTAURANT ENTERS WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!!!

after weeks of no response the hr guy finally gave me a call just now to tell me I GOT THE JOB?!??! i genuinely honestly did not think they were gonna give me an offer and was just gonna move on with my life 😭 so now im gonna have to walk into my office tomorrow morning and say SIKE!!! and theyre all gonna be so mad at meeeee but this is genuinely such a better position for me I didnt think this was gonna happen for another year at least....

tldr I thought i was gonna be stuck with a job i dont like but I ended up getting the job I want!!!!!!!!

[porcupine-girl]

TeePublic: Making changes but WAY more reasonable than RedBubble

RedBubble and TeePublic are owned by the same company, but TP has always operated very differently. When RB originally bought them, I'd actually been hoping that the better parts of both sites would find their way to the other, but that never happened.

The main difference for artists is that TP pays flat fees for items. For example, for classic T-shirts, you get $4 per shirt or $2 if it's bought on sale. For stickers, it's .75/.50. No percentages, nothing you set yourself.

After RB's recent ridiculousness, when I saw an email from TP about changes, I was worried. But it's actually pretty reasonable, if they have to increase fees.

Tiers (but not as bad)

Yes, they are doing tiers like RB. And like RB, they won't give the exact formula or let you pick your tier, BUT the criteria are far better.

The lower "Apprentice" tier, it sounds like, is mostly for accounts that spam them with hundreds of automated designs or that have a normal number of designs but almost no sales. NOT for regular small-to-medium accounts like RB's lower tier.

I have 56 designs that I've slowly added over the past five years or so, and I make maybe $10/month on TeePublic. And I am in the higher "Artisan" tier. I don't know what might get me bumped down, like if I don't sell anything for a few months in a row or something, but for now I'm good.

So if you're a small-to-medium artist with a couple dozen designs who sells a few items a month, there's a good chance you'll be Artisan tier.

Fee changes (but also not as bad)

As for the fee changes, they're more reasonable, too. For Artisan accounts (which, remember, little ol' me qualified as) they're just standardizing the artist cut to $4 ($2 on sale) for all apparel and home items. Which means for the most popular items, like the classic tee, there's no change! The biggest cut here is on hoodies, which will drop from $8 to $4. Which sucks, but I've only sold a handful of hoodies in several years so it's not a huge hit. Most other cuts are just going from $5 to $4.

For Apprentice tier accounts, apparel and home items will be $3 ($1 on sale). Which is more of a cut, since nearly all of them were at least $4 before, but it's definitely better than RB's 40% fee, and seems unlikely to hit most regular artist accounts.

There's also the fact that while RB closed my account with no warning or explanation and ignored my appeal, TP has done no such thing. As a fanartist I've also had far fewer DMCAs on TP, probably because it's less popular than RB so companies aren't monitoring as closely.

So anyhow, if you're a RedBubble refugee you might want to check out TeePublic! I'm in the process of uploading whatever designs I had on RB that I hadn't put there already. It definitely has downsides (the search is absolutely awful), and again it's owned by the same company, but for the moment it's staying more artist-friendly than RedBubble apparently.

(If you already have a TP account, it might be helpful to mention in the notes which tier you're in [it should say in the email you got] and how big you are, so others can gauge what's likely to happen to them. I'm curious to see if anyone around the same size as me got bumped down to Apprentice.)

[slightlystupidhun]

Niente

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A band AU I’m writing! Sorry if it’s bad! There is no magic in this universe, just music! @puffin-smoke did an amazing Redacted Band AU that you should check out too!

Niente; To nothing; indicating a diminuendo which fades completely away…

It was a cool fall evening in the shaw household, the lights of the house emitting a warm feeling from the outside. It had been half a year since Gabriel Shaw took Tank in. Their parents had dropped them off to study with David and just never came to pick them up. Tank remembers so vividly how the phone rang, and rang, and rang but no one picked up. Gabe refused to let them leave on their own so he took them in, they were just a few months away from turning 18.

Tank had not intended to join the “family” band either. It was more of something that happened to them. One day while paroling the house they saw that one of David's old electric guitars was left out in the living room. The black guitar with red paint splattered on it, giving the impression of blood, was so appealing to Tank they simply couldn't resist. They had practiced acoustic guitar, but had little experience on electric. They only remembered what little their father taught them when he attempted to play, the instrument never sounding right in his hands.

They picked it up, it was already plugged into the amp, and looked around the room. Pausing for a moment, waiting to hear if anyone had come into the house, they were pleased to find that they were still home alone. David and Gabe left for a meeting for their band. David was the drummer, Asher was the singer, and Milo played bass. Their old electric guitarist, Asher's sister, left for a different band. The first few notes they strummed on the guitar sent electricity through their veins. They strummed again, becoming obsessed with the sound. It fully represented them, their thoughts, feelings, their whole being. They began strumming out the chords to an AC/DC song their dad tried playing, thunderstruck. It was the a simple standard they knew how to play on electric.

The music soared from the guitar and filled the room. Tank started playing with the strings and improving their own melodies. They were so wrapped up in the song that they didn't hear Gabe and David enter the house. They didn't see the pair walk into the living room. The sound enveloping the house was completely theirs, like they owned the instrument. No one could replicate the way they played. Even if they weren't perfect at it they were still so alluring.

As Tank strummed the last chord on the guitar, Gabe stepped forward and applauded. Their head snapped up, fiery eyes meeting his warm ones. A slight blush spread across their face and they quickly stepped away and set the guitar on the soft green couch next to them.

“I… I… sorry…” They mumbled out. “I wont touch it again…”

“No! Don’t say sorry. In fact, you were quite good. Ever played before now kid?” Gabe asked moving over to pick up David's old guitar.

“No… not really. I mean I've been playing acoustic guitar a little, or I used to with my da… with you know.” They kicked their feet on the hardwood floor..

“Well my band is looking for a guitarist. I'm sure Dad would be willing to teach you. He taught Asher's sister.” David said, nudging Tanker with his shoulder.

“Me?” Tank asked.

“Absolutely! I will! You’re in the band Tank!” Gabe cheers as he wraps an arm around Tank. “I’ll start teaching you tomorrow.”

That is how they ended up where they were now. On a large stage opening for a band that Tank has been a fan of for a while now. They were called Tooth&Fang. Tank was practically in love with Quinn, the lead singer. He was attractive and very, very charismatic.

As their set came to a close as David rattled the symbol one final time. The whole band waved as Asher yelled out one final time.

“Thank you everyone! We are DxW! You have a good night!” He and the band ran off stage, high fiving one another. Tank stood on the outside avoiding the three’s cheers.

“Hello~” A sly voice spoke into Tank's ear. Tanks eyes widened, immediately recognizing the voice. They pivoted to see the mischievous grin on the face of Quinn Fox, the lead singer they're practically in love with. “Well aren't you, a spitfire. You played that electric like a star, precious.”

Tank was on cloud nine. Quinn even offered to meet them in his dressing room after the show.

“No.” David said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in the alley way. The band was packing their equipment up in their van.

“What? Why not? He literally just wants to meet up!” Tank pleaded, waving their arms about.

“No. No super famous 28 year old rockstar wants to meet with a 19 year old, just to chat and hang out. I've heard about his reputation…”

“But you haven't seen his reputation have you. You haven't experienced it first hand. You have no idea whether or not it's true!” They pointed their finger into David's chest, knowing it would irritate him.

“Tank. No. And get your finger off my chest dumbass.” David's eyes lit up with anger.

“I'm going. I am 19 fucking years old. I am old enough to choose what I am gonna do with and where I am going to spend my time.” They pivoted on their heels and began walking back inside.

“Tank stop!” David yelled at them before crossing his arms and standing firm. “I’ll tell Dad.”

Those three words stopped Tanker in their tracks. Was he serious? He was going to rat on them and play tattle tail. Furrowing their brows and balling their hands into fists they walked back over to David. “I hate you.”

The next two days the only time Tank spoke to David was if he directed them to do something in the band. They were pissed off at him. How the hell was he able to control what they did? And the fact that he threatened them with telling Gabe. They continued to ignore him and mope around until their phone buzzed. They looked at their instagram feed and saw a message from Quinn_The_Vamp.

[usermischief]

♞Pairing: Steo ♞Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Liam Dunbar ♞Tags/Warnings: - ♞Words: 5320 ♞ @steodiscord's SteoSpooktober Vol.5 - Costume ♞Part 1 - House of Darkness / Part 3 -

a/n: This fic can be read without reading Part 1, but there will be references to what happened in "House of Darkness".

ao3

***

once upon a do-over

Stiles pushes his hands in the pockets of his jeans, squinting at the old structure maybe 250 feet away from them. It might have been a castle once. The sand-colored bricks and tower still left standing seem to hint at it. There’s no shot it’s from royalty; there would have to be records of that. Biting the inside of his cheeks, Stiles squints at the tower. He can’t quite figure out why, but something about it makes him feel a bit… queasy? Perhaps. He just doesn’t like the feeling it causes in the pit of his stomach. There’s something wrong about it, Stiles can’t put his finger on what. Although, it could very well have everything to do with the no-trespassing signs all over the goddamn place.

What he knows for certain, however, is that he’s been right. Not the biggest surprise. He didn’t expect Mason to calm him months after the Conjuring House debacle to invite him to a costume party. Luckily, Stiles will be going on a costume party later today, so, Lydia’s three hour-long makeover will not be for nothing. Her very recent obsession with American Horror Story’s first season has translated into his costume, and since she wasn’t allowed to paint Jackson’s perfect face white, Stiles ended up as the Tate Langdon to her Violet Harmon. The good thing about this costume is, the skeleton make-up does make his face unrecognizable, something he’s still very much interested in. The bad thing? His clothes – especially his black jeans – are tight, much tighter than any clothes he owns.

Still, since Mason and Liam clearly lied to him, questions need to be asked. “Why are we here?”

Mason turns to him, beaming like a thousand watts. “Because this is Satan’s Castle.”

Liam bounces on his heels, clearly sharing his best friend’s excitement. They’re infuriatingly happy about absolutely everything. It’s terrible.

“No,” Stiles says, gesturing back and forth between Theo and him – because, yes, Theo joined this trip as well – “why are we here?” This isn’t an emergency, especially none that required Stiles and Theo. Together. Joining Liam and Mason on their stupid little exploration. They’re not friends. Never have been. Lydia asked Stiles to keep an eye on these shitheads during their visit to the Conjuring House. That does not mean he’s required to be around all the time whenever they go to some shady sounding places.

It's not that he wouldn’t, Stiles simply hates that Theo is here too after he finally stopped being pissed at him.  

But, hey, this is what he gets for taking a gap year and deciding to live closer to home again. Not that Los Angeles is that close. Ever since the Conjuring House adventure, Stiles isn’t sure he wants to become an FBI Agent. That was his dad’s dream until a kid was in the picture. Stiles gets the appeal, and part of him still wants to help the living. The more time he spends away from Harvard, working jobs most people don’t even know exist, he wonders if perhaps the dead and other creatures not fit to be around the living are his forte – and it pays more than well. People are giving him surreal amounts of money even if he just tells them they have rats in their walls instead of a poltergeist.

Mason exchanges a quick glance with Liam. “Well,” he says because the latter decides that his camera is a lot more interesting than the conversation, “you’re brilliant and mysterious and can see dead people, and you—” Mason cocks his head to the side a little and shrugs, “you’re hot.”

Theo raises his brows. “You mean I have the money.” That he's ignoring the comment about his appearance says a lot about what type of mood he's in. Although Stiles doesn’t have any idea why Theo is mad. He’s not the one who’s been ghosted for seven fucking months.

“Our viewers don’t exactly care about that,” Liam says barely loud enough to be heard.

Stiles folds his arms over his chest. “There’s no costume party.” Mason is a terrible liar, but Stiles agreed to this because as angry as he’s been with Theo, part of him wanted to see that asshole again – either to draw a line in the sand officially, or to give this another shot. He’s not quite sure yet. He’s not exactly proud of it – and he's even less proud of allowing Lydia to put him in these ridiculously tight jeans.

But it’s working; he’s caught Theo looking more than once.

Mason tugs on his own costume – Count Dracula, judging by the impressive cloak he keeps stumbling over – and pulls his shoulders up. “It’s a Halloween special.”

“It’s a—" Theo cuts himself off and turns away with a roll of his eyes.

“You didn’t even come in costume,” Liam snipes, who – very lazily, mind you – threw on a pair of scrubs and a doctor’s coat.

Theo bares his teeth, fangs looking as deadly as always. “I don’t need one.”

“I think the more pressing issue is that you guys lied to us.” Stiles isn’t the biggest fan of being used. It’s fucking rude in general, but after being a meat puppet for a 1000-year-old fox demon, shit like this hits very differently. “You could’ve just asked.” Although Stiles isn’t entirely sure he would’ve agreed after the disaster the Conjuring House ended up being. He really didn’t appreciate being flung around like a ragdoll.

Fucking demons and their audacity.

“I wouldn’t have come—”

“You agreed the moment I mentioned Stiles,” Liam shoots back, clearly done with everyone’s attitude.

Stiles glances at Theo, who resolutely stares in the other direction. Even his gnashed teeth don’t hide the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. Fuck. What the hell does that mean? Theo never called after the night they spent together, and Stiles gave up after his second text went unanswered but read for months – and that’s why he should have said ‘no’ instead of ‘sure, why not?’ the moment Mason brought him up.

Yet here he is.

Sighing, Stiles raises his hands in mock defeat. “Fine,” he says, trying his hardest not to sound as delighted as he feels, “we’re already here. Give me your research.” He beckons for the phone Mason has been clutching to his chest like his prized possession.

The huge grin on his lips certainly proves that he’s been waiting for his request. “The story is wild,” Mason tells him as he hands over his phone.

Stiles draws his brows together. “The first sentence states that—"

“I know.” Mason waves his hand around dismissively. “But every legend has a kernel of truth, right?”

“I mean… in theory, I guess, yeah…” Stiles trails off, understanding why they wanted him to come so desperately, they dragged Theo here as well. They want to figure out the truth, or rather, they want someone to confirm this research. Frowning at the phone, Stiles sighs. He’d like to be a bit more optimistic, but everything Mason found points in a very different direction. Nothing is known about this place, not even who built it; the best guess is some random tycoon living in the late 1800s. They can’t even say what it was used for — only that Robert Atkinson apparently owned it at one point. Otherwise, the usual rumors are attached to these ruins, dark rituals, satanism, secret tunnels, and— “fucking hell.”

“400 kids?” Theo asks, startling Stiles as he leans even closer to continue to read. “They flew them back and forth and nobody noticed?”

“Not at once.” Stiles rolls his eyes. Still, Theo does have a point. “Also, it’s the ritualistic assault that’s concerning me more, but good to know where your priorities lie.” Shaking his head, he hands the phone back to Mason. There’s not really anything in there that’s remotely helpful. It sounds as if people are desperately trying to fill the history of ruins that should have plenty already. Of course, they want to believe that means some bad shit went down here. People are wired that way. But the ruins are part of somebody’s backyard, and it doesn’t look particularly decrepit. So, whoever owns it, takes pretty good care of it — and unless they’re a Satanist, too, it’s hard to imagine something’s going on here.

Besides, Tara, who once again decided to follow her brother around, has no qualms inspecting the place. She’s been quite nervous at the Conjuring House. She’s completely different here. Perhaps, she is enjoying the view as well.

The Rim of the World is undoubtedly breathtaking.

Staring at the horizon isn’t going to get him any faster to the party, though. Stiles sighs again and heads towards the ruins. “This better not be a waste of a good costume.”

“And my priorities are out of whack?” Theo asks with a snort.

Stiles shoots him a look over his shoulder. He grimaces a little when he spots Liam already handling the camera. There’s no way he’s ever going to enjoy or get used to being always filmed.

“Are you seeing anything?” Liam asks.

Now that Stiles has stopped ignoring every single ghost, it has gotten significantly easier to see and hear them. It’s quite unsettling, if he’s entirely honest, because blocking them out becomes increasingly harder. Here’s to hoping the same doesn’t go for anything else. “Aside from the ‘No Trespassing’ signs?” Or the aggressive neighborhood watch sign informing them that the police will be called immediately. Stiles is very glad his face is obscured by paint because there are most likely more cameras around.

“Ghosts,” Liam deadpans. “Demons. Entities?”

“Take your pick,” Theo adds with a bark of laughter.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “No, there’s nothing.” Well, aside from Tara roaming the grounds, but she hardly counts. Her relaxed state and the absence of other ghosts can only mean one thing; nothing happened here. If there had been as many satanic rituals as the research suggested, the place would be crowded. They are dawn to evil places, to places with a brutal history; all those lingering negative feelings are like catnips to the spirits who refuse to move on — or to the entities who have no business being here.

“We’re not even there yet,” Mason mutters, sounding more than annoyed as he walks off the street and heads towards the field, his cloak swooshing dramatically after him.

Liam follows his friend, panning the camera slowly away from Theo and Stiles, over the ruins, and to where Mason is now awkwardly stumbling downhill. Someone clearly has no intention of getting too close to the person owning the castle. Probably not the worst idea. If they have to trespass, it’s most definitely smarter to do it from below. They’re taking a risk, overall, and it would suck if they did so for nothing.

But Stiles doesn’t want to play pretend or straight-up lie, and he doubts they would want that either. He doesn’t know the guys very well, but their final product about the Conjuring House has been pretty honest. It was more of a documentary than a scare-fest, littered with solid history spoken over beautifully shot B-roll of the house. Maybe that’s why people enjoyed it so much. There was no script, no weird sound effects — just the raw footage cut together into a mostly coherent narrative. They’re probably planning to do the same for this place.

“You don’t have to feel guilty.”

“Keep your nose out of my chemo signals, Theodore.” Stiles narrows his eyes and studies the other boy for a few moments; the fact that he looks amazing in his leather jacket, tight jeans and skintight purple tank top suddenly pisses him off, although it’s not Theo’s fault Stiles got his hopes up. “You lost that right when you couldn’t pick up the fucking phone or text me back.” He’s not usually this aggressively honest about his feelings, but Theo’s behavior really got to him. It felt different. He didn’t sound like the usual dickhead trying to talk his way into someone’s pants.

And usually, Stiles is a magnet for those exact dickheads. He should’ve listened to his gut, but no. Trust the jock with the sad childhood story, why would he end up as a cliché? Clearly, Stiles was very wrong about that, and he’s not planning on making that mistake again.

“Okay,” Theo amends, the smirk betraying his apologetic voice, “I know, but I—"

Stiles holds up a hand and turns away. “Save it.” This discussion can wait, or even better yet, it does not need to happen. It was clearly a misunderstanding, although Stiles isn’t entirely sure what could be misunderstood when they’d both exchanged numbers. Theo changed his mind, or maybe he simply did it to placate Stiles, thinking he’d never see him again.

Whatever.

Stiles turns away and heads down the hill to join Mason and Liam. The last thing he needs is being alone with Theo any longer than strictly necessary. They’ll have enough time to pass between each other when Mason and Liam gather some B-roll.

The hill is a lot steeper than it looked from up top, and the ground underneath his feet isn’t exactly sturdy. Rocks and dirt roll down the hill. Neither his Vans nor the tight jeans Lydia forced him into are helpful in this endeavor.

What was he even thinking? That Theo would magically change his mind just because his ass looks great? He’s such an idiot, and soon, he might be an idiot rolling down a mountain on camera. This evening is going swimmingly. But at least he’s not sweating his ass and makeup off.

“Fuck,” Theo curses softly. A moment later, he falls past him, a bunch of rubble joining his tumble down the hill. He ends up on his ass and slides a bit further down until he manages to stop himself on a bigger rock jutting out of ground.

Stiles presses his lips together, trying his best not to laugh.

Heaving a breath, Theo glares at him over his shoulder.

Liam and Mason are still engrossed in a conversation, checking something on the latter’s phone.

“Pay me enough, and I didn’t see a thing,” Stiles tells him, carefully continuing down the mountain. If he falls, his pants are toast, and he’s certainly not going to be on camera with his jeans ripped in unfortunate places.

Brushing off dust and dirt, Theo huffs out a breath. “Name your price.”

“You wouldn’t be able to afford me,” Stiles shoots back instantly, although he’s not entirely sure about that. Judging by all his comments, Theo seems to be loaded. He’s usually the one driving, and he was the one paying for the hotel back in Rhode Island.

He’s almost reached Mason and Liam standing by the tower when something catches his eye. It’s a flurry of motion, drained of color like ghosts usually are. Stiles cranes his neck to see where it went, unsure if it’s Tara or someone else. In this moment of inattentiveness, he puts his foot on rubble and dirt that instantly gives way underneath him — his balance goes straight out of the window. Stiles curses under his breath as he frantically looks around for something to catch himself on.

There is nothing.

Of course.

Liam turns around, probably alerted by noises of stones rolling down the hill right behind him. His eyes grow wide, and he presses the camera into Mason’s hands. Before he has the chance to move, however, strong hands grab Stiles’ waist, stopping further disaster from happening.

“Careful now, we don’t want you to ruin your costume, do we?” Theo’s voice is barely a whisper. It’s sending shivers up and down Stiles’ spine.

He loathes the effect this guy has on him regardless of the months of frustration he suffered. But that’s in the past. Stiles let his guard down once, he’s now learned from his mistake, and he will not do it again — although Theo’s hands on his waist feel amazing regardless of his current resentment of the guy. He certainly wouldn’t complain if his hand slipped under— no. Absolutely not. “I think I saw something.” Stiles straightens himself, his foothold just secure enough that the ground won’t give away under him, and elbows Theo in the ribs. Sharp pain travels up his arm. He grimaces.

Fucking werewolves.

Mason’s eyes light up. “Where?” he asks, pushing the camera back in Liam’s hands.

“Somewhere over there.” Stiles points in the opposite direction of the ruins. “It might’ve been Tara. I’m not sure.”

“Where’s she now?” All the playfulness has left Theo’s voice. His sister remains a sore spot. It probably hasn’t gotten any easier now that he knows she’s following him around; if he believes it, that is.

Stiles shakes his head. “I can’t see her right now.”

“And that’s a good sign?” Liam inquires, glancing around the mountain.

“I don’t know yet.” Although the place doesn’t necessarily feel as evil as the name Satan’s Castle would suggest, now that Stiles is up close and personal with it, something feels… weird. Not inherently evil. This is nothing like the Conjuring House, but there is something. He just can’t tell if it’s bad history or something entirely different.

Mason rubs his hands together. “Could fire cleanse this place?”

“You mean ‘burn it down’? Theo asks, stepping so close his shoulder bumps against Stiles’.

It’s almost impossible to shut down the shouting match between his brain ordering him to move away and his body begging to step closer. Instead, Stiles crosses his arms. “That depends on how they did it.”

“With fire?”

Stiles turns to glare at Theo. “Do you ever shut up?” Despite everything he went through at the Conjuring House, he’s still a fucking shithead. Unbelievable. How the hell can he still be so doubtful regarding everything that’s going on?

The grin spreading on the other’s lips doesn’t bode well. “Feel free to use kisses as a method to shut me up any time.”

Stiles has never been so happy to wear makeup because nobody can see his cheeks flushing under all that white covering his whole face and throat. Maybe he should consider wearing costumes more often — especially when he’s around Theo. He’s not at all interested in giving the guy any inclination about his feelings for him. Once this is over, the first thing Stiles is going to do is teach himself how not to be hung up on people who only give a shit about him whenever he’s conveniently around.

After a moment of silence, in which even Mason and Liam stared at Theo in surprise, Stiles merely shrugs. “If they salted the place, then yes, they might have cleansed it.”

Although the evening sun is still having enough strength, a shiver runs down his spine. It’s too quiet for something to be here. Maybe it’s just the place itself that gives him the creeps. Ruins often have this effect on him. There’s something strange about being in a place that used to be full of life, that was a home to someone; its history lost, and all that’s left are rumors that can’t be disproven. The tower with its five points — so easy to believe it’s meant to be a pentagram — does the rest. Stiles wonders if it’s the shape that gave birth to all the horrors people believe happened here.

“So…” Liam trails off, the camera still facing Stiles and Theo. “It’s not haunted?”

Stiles sighs. “It might not be no.” It’s not the answer either of the boys wants to hear — Theo most likely won’t care — but it’s the only one he can give them if they keep standing beneath this goddamn tower. Seeing a stray ghost, that may or may not have been Tara, isn’t proof for anything. “Wait here.”

“What? Why?” Mason asks, his voice stuck between frustration and hope.

Raising his brows, Stiles gestures past the scrub surrounding the tower — probably to keep people out. “Because I’m going to go there.”

“There’s a ‘No Trespassing’ sign right next to us,” Theo points out, raising his brows and looking at Stiles like he’s seen him for the first time.

Stiles snorts out a laugh. “Aw, are you worried? That’s so sweet.”

Unsurprisingly, that hits a nerve. Theo narrows his eyes. “It’s your trespassing charge. Have fun.” He really acts as if he’s never done anything wrong before in his life. That sounds insanely boring.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Stiles promises, watching as Liam and Mason exchange a look that’s more than a little loaded. It’s not like they could technically stop him from “I’m just going check for any activity. If anyone asks, you tried to stop me.” It’s not the first time Stiles trespassed. So far, he hasn’t been caught, and now, he’s got a few more tricks up his sleeve. He’s going to be in and out. Well, not really in. Still, he should probably remind them to cut this part out. Although nobody can see his face, his trespassing doesn’t need to be on video for the world to see.

Giving the two boys a thumbs up, Stiles presses as closes to the tower as possible to shimmy between the scrub and the wall. He’s not interested in going any further down that mountain with his tight jeans — even this is a terrible idea.

“Theo!” Liam snaps.

“Go get some B-roll,” Theo calls over his shoulder.

Stiles glances at him. “Shut up.” Although people are most likely aware that they’re sneaking around here, they really do not need to announce their trespassing. Carefully, he pokes his head around the tower and surveys the area. The castle must’ve been huge before they burned it down, but the thing that interests him the most is the doorway across from him. He doubts that’s where he’s going to find the entrance to a tunnel, but for now he at least wants to check if this place even has graffiti that could potentially be satanic. The tower itself is suspiciously clean for an abandoned and allegedly haunted location.  

With Theo right behind him, Stiles hurries along the old path, his steps silenced by the overgrown grass. He ducks under the ivy covering the top of the doorway and steps into the room. The drop in temperature is noticeable, but that’s pretty much the most exciting thing. It doesn’t take more than two people to make this room almost a bit too claustrophobic for Stiles’ taste. The charred walls don’t exactly ease the tight feeling in his chest.

This part of the history is plain to see. People have burned this place down. Stiles swallows around the lump in his throat while brushing his fingertips over the cold stonewall. Nobody burned, at least not in here.

“Well, that’s anti-climactic.” Theo steps next to him, nudging the leftover chain-link fence on the floor. “Anything on the ghost radar?”

For a moment, Stiles contemplates elbowing Theo in the face, but it’s not going to be worth the pain he’ll feel. “If you think it’s so funny, try living with it.” Stiles turns away from the unused fence and furrows his brow at the graffiti on the opposite wall. ‘Spikey Kelly’ in bright red. That’s really the only thing of note in the whole place. All the other graffiti is worn with age.

Stiles has no idea what that even means. Is that a name?

“Sorry.” Theo offers him an apologetic smile. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around your whole thing.” He gestures around, and for what it’s worth, he seems genuine.

Stiles opens his mouth, tempted to ask, ‘is that why you never called me back?’, but he shakes his head instead. “There’s nothing here.”

There’s absolutely no way he’ll have this conversation in the burned down ruins of an allegedly satanic castle — a satanic castle with no satanic symbols whatsoever. An evil place is easy to recognize by the shit all over the wall. Spikey Kelly, however, doesn’t exactly invoke fear. Stiles shuffles around Theo and pushes the ivy away.

“At least the view is great.”

That’s hard to deny. The view from up here is breathtaking, almost like they’re in a completely different world with the sky and a picturesque landscape as far as the eye can see. It’s hard to imagine Los Angeles is just a little over an hour away. They’re standing on top of the world, free, ready to fly at a moment’s notice.

Stiles wishes it were that easy.

Theo steps next to him, his body warm. “I bet the sunset is beautiful up here.”

Yeah, it’s probably worth the drive.

Ignoring the loaded statement, Stiles turns towards the tower. There’s a white wooden door leading into it, so new it ruins the image of the castle — as does the light just above it. This would be the first place Stiles prefers to be by day. “Let’s check out the tower.” Knowing his luck, the door is locked.

“Stiles.” Theo grabs his arm and pulls him back in, pulls him almost too close. “I know you’re mad—"

“I’m not mad,” Stiles interrupts, and he’s very clearly lying. The thing is, he is more pissed at himself for falling for the same bullshit over and over again. “You made your choice, whatever. Just don’t expect me to fucking swoon because you’re gracing me with your presence.” He pulls his hand free, not ready to admit out loud that Theo is still very successful at working his magic, and Stiles very much could swoon every time he simply smiles at him. That pisses him off even more than Theo not having the balls to tell him he wanted sex and nothing more. “Let’s go. I don’t want to hang out here any longer than I have to.” There is still the risk of being found, after all.

Without waiting for a reply, Stiles turns on his heels and hurries towards the white door. Here, he is very much out in the open. The light above his head turns on, but the door doesn’t budge.

Fuck.

“Why does that lamp have a motion sensor?” Theo asks, hovering directly behind him. Looks like he still doesn’t have any respect for personal space or boundaries.

Stiles covers most of the door with his body, brushing his thumb along the lock. “Try sneaking in at night when this place lights up like a Christmas tree.” Anger and spite have been surprisingly great teachers. Instead of wallowing in self-hatred, Stiles spend his time leaning into what he can do post-nogitsune. If he didn’t accept himself for who he is, how are other supposed to take him seriously? So, he buried his nose in books and has gotten the hang of little magic tricks, like opening and locking doors. It has worked on his apartment door every time so far, and this can’t be too complicated a lock.

He hears a soft click.

Yes.

Stiles pushes the door open just enough to slip into the room behind it.

“How,” Theo asks, closing the door swiftly behind him and plunging them in total darkness, “did you do that?”

A moment later, light illuminates most of the room and confronts Stiles with an almost disappointing reality. He didn’t exactly have his hopes up high, but he still hoped to find something. This? This is a waste of everybody’s time. No doors, nothing that even hints a secret door. No pentagrams, no 666, no graffiti that could even remotely been considered satanic. But the room isn’t looking too clean either. There are random graffiti smeared all over the walls, and the room itself looks like a bomb went off on it. Clutter is lying all over the ground, and the shelves are filled with it as well. It’s a miracle they didn’t step on anything.  

It’s nothing more than a storage room.

Stiles scrunches up his face. “That was a bust.”

“Excuse me?” Theo snaps his fingers in front of Stiles’ face. “How’d you get that door open?”

“It was stuck.”

“I heard the lock click.”

Stiles makes a dismissive gesture. “You imagined that.”

With an exasperated sigh, Theo points the flashlight directly in his face. “I get it. You’re still mad—"

This again. “Put the fucking flashlight down.” Stiles cannot believe he has to tell him that. He blinks and squints a little, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room.

“Stiles—”

“Fine.” He barely resists to throw his hands in the air. “I thought you giving me your number meant we’d stay in contact. You didn’t call or text me back. I moved on.” Quite literally, in three occasions. Well, four if he counts the thing with Lydia and Jackson. It took him longer than he’d care to admit, but it’s not like he broke down crying. His mind simply liked to play the ‘what if’ game. What if Theo did call back? What if Stiles just tried one more time? What if he visited Beacon Hills and accidentally bumped into him? Endless possibilities, none of them happened. “I thought you were different. That’s why I was mad at first, but if you think I cried my eyes out because a jock doesn’t want me back, you’re dead wrong.” And that’s the truth. As angry and a little heartbroken as he was, his dignity wouldn’t allow to shed a single fucking tear for Theo Raeken.

Theo raises his hands defensively. “I want you, but the whole thing with my sister…” he trails off, staring at the ground for a moment.

Stiles stares at him in shocked silence. I want you. Three simple words that shouldn’t stun him, that certainly shouldn’t get to him. But they do because he can’t shake his attachment to people no matter how much he likes to pretend that’s not the case. He swallows drily. Those three words aren’t what he should focus on. He takes a deep breath. “You think I wouldn’t have understood if you told me?”

Theo glances up at him, smiling apologetically. “I regret ghosting you. No… no pun intended.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles carefully steps away from Theo. He’s pissed. Again. This time because Theo is essentially opening the door, Stiles fully intended to keep shut. “Yeah well, I regret a lot of things too,” Stiles mutters, trying his best to shut his feelings off. “Having this conversation? It’s at least in the top five.” It’s uncalled for, Stiles knows that, but he’s not interested in talking about this any longer — even less inside this disappointed, entirely non-satanic storage room.

Theo stares at him, opening his mouth before deciding against whatever he’s intended to say first. A mask slips onto his features as he steps closer, a hand reached out to grab his arm. “I wanted to see you again, desperately, so I could apologize.” The smirk returns in full force, eyes flashing almost mischievously as he inches closer. “But maybe my tongue can do a better job of saying sorry than my words can.”

Stiles’ heart stutters in his chest, cheeks flushing hotly once again. Fucking hell. Theo shouldn’t be allowed to have this much power over him still, but it’s like his body is drawn to him, impossible to get away, impossible to fully let go. Get it together, Stilinski. “Tempting offer,” he replies, hoping that his voice won’t give away how he really feels about the words — even though it doesn’t matter, Theo can probably smell how bad he wants him too, “but I’m not going to waste this costume on you.”

The response startles the smirk off Theo, and he lowers his arm, brows drawn together. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Relieve flushes through Stiles when he realizes control is firmly back in his own hands. Now, all he needs is to get out of here. “We’re going to a costume party.”