#I don't know what people say in English so I'll say it in my native language

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[arttsuka]

I know iI already made a post about it but happy new year to everyone 🫂

[hellsitedotcom]

### Honkai Men & How They Kiss ###

Featuring Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine.

warnings: I only started playing, so this might end up ooc; no other warnings rlly.

english isn't my native language!

''I probably won't get that invested,'' well maybe I should shut my mouth more; bone app the teeth!

DAN HENG

This can both count of just Dan Heng, or Imbibitor Lunae (if you prefer imagining him); I doubt there'd be any difference in their character, which is why I don't feel like specifying - it's up to whoever you, the reader, prefers.

Firstly, I believe that Dan Heng is someone who initiates affection more privately, less frequently or dramatically in public; You'll probably find yourself initiating the majority of your kisses with him!

But, when it does come to kissing, he's a gentle soul; Maybe not even gentle, but...hesitant of sorts. That hesitance does not come from an uncertainty regarding his feelings toward you - I'd call it a...worry, a ''fear'', of sorts.

That aside, there is something that just...makes your heart skip a beat, makes you giddy when he kisses you. Your forehead against his after a long kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling. He's soft, gentle with his kiss.

There's no ''fleeting'' kiss with Dan Heng; he'll either kiss you properly, or not at all. Still, I can see him be someone to kiss your cheek, forehead, or palm/hand - but rather in private than in public!

While some people might see him that way, I personally do not see him as someone who is ''aggressive'' or ''intense'' in a sexual sense during kissing (might also be my aroace ass speaking, idk) - sure, maybe kisses might turn into a slightly heated make out session, but nothing ''extreme''.

When it comes to what kisses he loves, I believe he would enjoy kisses on the cheek, though there is nothing he loves more than feeling your lips on his.

BLADE

I've only met him briefly in-game yet (only now finished the quest w/ the Xianzhou and heading to Penacony), so...I'll try my best, lol.

Before I got into the game again & read some more about him, my initial thought was that he'd be a ''possessive'' person, but I highly doubt that (or kinda...refuse to think that? I dunno), and I'd say he can be...a little of a wildcard?

While I can see him be a ferocious, ''aggressive'' kisser on some occasions, I do believe he can also be found on the other end of the spectrum.

Blade's kisses can be intense, demanding almost, biting down on your lip and clearly asserting dominance while kissing you, making you struggle to keep your balance; He'll whisper to you, speak under his breath while you can barely catch your breath.

Then there's the other end of the spectrum, when his kisses almost seem...fragile? Absent? Like he's...not fully there, or not fully himself. He'll not be one to initiate much affection during this time, which is also how you know that something's currently not right with him.

Last, there are the ''normal'' kisses - no aggression and demand behind them, yet they aren't absent either. A normal, brief kiss that only you can really tell the genuine emotion behind, since to most people Blade's expression would indicate he'd much rather be somewhere else.

When it comes to receiving kisses, I don't think he generally has a preference there? Or would even be big on receiving kisses specifically? At least behind close doors I can see him be someone who'd much rather have you hug him or hold him.

JING YUAN

Ah, Alejandro Saab my beloved; I didn't think I'd love the guy this much when I first started playing, lol.

A confident man indeed, especially when it comes to the love you two share, for your relationship. His genuine admiration and adoration for you are evident to most people, though he knows when to be subtle or act in a way that hides his emotions.

Jing Yuan can be a tease, though mostly behind close doors; He'll have you close, his arm around your waist, his lips hovering above yours, yet he refuses to kiss you, watching you grow impatient as he pulls away anytime you want to close the distance.

When he does kiss you, he does so with passion. His kisses are on the more sensual side, leaving you breathless and longing for more. He'll have you completely undone after just a short makeout session, leaving you with a wink and teasing smirk on his lips.

In private, when you are alone, away from responsibilities and work, when he has time to think, to remember the past...that smirk might still be present whenever you want his attention, but it feels fake. During those times, whenever he'll reach for you to kiss or hold you, he'll be lost in his own thoughts, though you always help him feel grounded, and guide him back to the present.

He doesn't mind initiating affection in public either, though he does...behave himself more, lol; He'll kiss your cheek or the palm of your hand while at a commission, and you can also find him holding your waist when you're out in public - or allowing you to hold onto his arm.

Jing Yuan is also someone that just enjoys quality time; on those rare occasions when you two can relax and cuddle, there is nothing he enjoys more than napping in your arms; And, yes, he loves those sleepy kisses during those times, or in the early morning when you just woke up.

When it comes to your kisses, he prefers soft pecks on his forehead, or all over his face while you are cuddling - though there is nothing he loves more than having you play with his hair while you're cuddling/he's napping.

AVENTURINE

I've not met him yet, but he reminds me of an OC I have, which is why I automatically liked him, lol.

I want to say that he'd flaunt you around, be dramatic about your relationship, but I'm not sure that'd be a smart move, and I'm sure he'd be aware of that...anyway, he's someone that certainly makes love exciting.

He's even worse than Jing Yuan when it comes to his teasing smirk; Yet, he won't really be a tease, but rather more playful in his affection? Randomly slide up to you, twirl you close, brush his lips over yours while talking low before spinning you and then pressing a kiss to your lips, or dipping you and kissing your neck.

Definitely not one to shy away from being affectionate, though it is more on the casual-seeming side in the way he portrays it; He doesn't make a big fuss out of it - kissing you feels like it comes natural to him.

There were moments in which you were laying in his arms and you tried to steer the calm atmosphere in a more serious direction, though that only works up to a certain point with him and then he'll kiss you energetically to distract from that; also enjoys tickling you, but that's another thing.

His kisses vary in their kind; sometimes, they are brief and playful, while other times they are energetic and passionate, and so on. What is it called? A jack of all trades, though that figure of speech isn't entirely accurate, lol.

His public displays of affection are just as unpredictable as his affection in private; sometimes, he does not mind being affectionate around you, though he knows how to judge a situation well enough to hold back, or completely refrain from touching you.

When it comes to receiving affection, he's definitely obsessed with you just showering his face in kisses, sitting on his lap while he holds you close; or when you are cuddling and you just keep pressing kisses to his neck/throat/behind his ear.

[I have a Genshin version for some Men & Women, too]

[i9messi]

Bonita — Ruben Dias

You met Ruben while you were on vacation in Ibiza, and even though you're strangers, an instant connection bonds you together.

Word count — 1,3k

a/n: I'm currently obsessed with Rúben, so I'll probably never stop posting stories about him. And, just a little reminder that I'm not a native english speaker, so don't be rude.

ruben’s masterlist

It was a gorgeous sight. The waves clattered against each other, making a sound that gave you calm. The sun was burning your skin, while you protected your eyes with sunglasses. With a book resting on your lap, you were talking to your best friend about how much you were enjoying your vacation.

You two arrived a couple of days ago in Ibiza, and you practically lived on the beach, on yachts and drank margaritas all the time. It was a girls' trip, and all you did was talk about gossip and people that you thought were attractive. You were no longer interested in your work or on your busy schedule, none of that mattered anymore.

“I need to meet a handsome man,” you said to her, as your eyes turned on the men walking down the beach. Most of them were attractive for your eyes but none of them made you feel things. The kind of things you thought were obvious, like a faster heart beating, red cheeks and a warm feeling.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but that one over there has been staring at you for a while now.”

You looked in the same direction as her, your gaze met a man that was also looking at you. It was a brunette guy, a very good looking guy. Everything about him caught your eye, even that smile he gave you when you started smiling. His smile was a mix between sincerity and charm.

“Is he real? I think all that alcohol made me hallucinate.”

Handsome men were a typical thing in your world. You worked as a photographer in a modeling agency, so you saw attractive women and men all the time. But the man who was looking at you now did not look like one of them, the man who was walking in your direction looked like a real man.

The stranger didn’t take long to arrive at your side. You saw his abdomen and a couple of drops on his tanned skin from getting into the water moments before.

“Hey.”

“Uhm, hi.”

Your friend got up from her place and winked at you. “I’m going to the water, let me know if you need something.”

Now alone, you pointed out the empty seat in your friend’s chair.

“You can sit down if you want. You’re too tall and my neck is going to start hurting if I keep looking up.”

He smiled and took a seat. “I saw you there and I couldn’t help but think I needed to come to chat with you.”

“Your face is familiar, are you a model?”

“No, I'm not. Why‘d you think I would be a model?”

He was handsome and had a body built like someone who spent a lot of time taking care of himself.

“I work with a lot of models, maybe I saw you there once.”

“I’m in sports.”

“Oh, let me play a game. I want to guess your job.”

He smiled at your sudden interest, “Guess.”

“Tennis player?”

“No.”

“Basketball player? You’re tall, that would make sense.”

“No, but you’re close.”

“Well, my last try. Footballer?”

He nodded. “We have a winner.”

The truth was, you already knew he was a footballer. You grew up in a household where everyone watched football and sports, so you knew several players. Also, your residence was in Manchester, so you knew some players who played for the citizens and Rúben Días was one of them. You didn't want to admit all of that, you didn't know why but making everything anonymous sound more pleasant.

"What’s your name?" he asked, seeming interested in knowing more about you.

“I think we should keep our names secret.”

His smile grew bigger. “You want to make things interesting, okay then. I’ll call you bonita.”

“Oh sir, that’s your way of flirting with me?”

“It’s not flirting if I say something true. You're pretty.”

You smiled, “Thank you, stranger.”

“By the way, I'm flirting.”

“Uhm, sadly for you, I need much more than a guy calling me bonita to fall for him.”

He laughed, a noise that provoked a blush in your cheeks.

“Don’t you fall for my charms? Well, I’m not a man who gives up easily.”

He was joking, but you thought there was some sincerity in his words. You couldn’t help feeling a little flattered.

The conversation started, it was a genuine interest on both sides, wanting to get to know each other. He spoke about his career as a professional football player and his passions in life. With the beach and the sunset involving you in a comfortable surrounding, it was simple and lovely to meet him more. When the sun started to fade and the dim light of the evening illuminated both of you, you knew it was time to leave.

“Will I see you again?” he asked, his accent and his voice making you feel things.

Your friend was waiting a few feet away and you stood up from your seat, holding your bag in your hands.

“We may meet again if fate wants it.”

“Can I at least have your number?”

“No, stranger. What did I say about fate?” You approached his face and left a kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Rúben.”

“Hey! How do you know my name?”

You let out a laugh. “A good magician never reveals their secrets.”

His smile was the last thing you saw when you left the beach.

It was your fourth day in Ibiza and your friend and you had decided to see the sunrise. You had arrived early to the beach, with your cameras and phones to photograph the sun appearing on the horizon. But when you arrived, your eyes caught someone else. Rúben was there, this time a shirt covered the upper part of his body. He might have had the same idea as you, because he was photographing the sunset with his phone.

Your friend knew your intentions, so she winked at you.

“Go, go, lioness.”

You walked until you reached his side, just then he noticed your presence.

“Hello, Rúben.”

“Hi, stranger. Have you followed me? I feel like you know everything about me but I don’t know anything about you.*

“I just know your name, don't be silly.”

“It’s much more than I know about you.”

“Well, I’ll tell you my name.” you let him know your name and he tasted the pronunciation on his lips.

“I was right, a bonita girl like you has a pretty name.”

“You're really flattering, Rúben.”

“Okay, now, how do you know who I am?”

“I live in Manchester, and my whole family loves football. I grew up with them explaining what an offside is."

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, now that we’ve cleared things up. Are you happy to know my name at least?”

The sun slid over the horizon and your eyes began to look at it.

“I want to know you better.” he said, and then, you heard the sound of his phone taking a picture of you. He smiled at the view.

“One day and you’re already in love with me, Rúben?”

“Stop, you make me sound like I’ve proposed. I barely know you, stranger.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to know me better.”

He came closer to you, step by step, his brown eyes looking directly at your lips.

“Can I kiss you, bonita?”

“Yes, you can, bonito.”

Everything happened. His lips clashed with yours, while his hand settled on your hip, right over your summer dress. Something let you know that it wasn't a one night stand or a brief moment with a random guy, this was intimate and romantic at the same time. When you separated in order to fill your lungs with oxygen, he left you a quick kiss on your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll make my summer even warmer.”

[look-me]

“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”

masc!reader x dealer!abby

————————-

warnings: fingering, using of weed, semi-public sex, r!receiving, idk what else lol

————————

au: a/u:please don’t mind any grammar mistakes and please cuz english its not my native language. ps. i never write a smut. also i’ll probably won’t correct any mistakes cuz i’m too lazy for it😭 (edit. omg this is shitty how can y’all read this😭)

part 1

part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smoking together with abby means: she smokes and you drink some beer because she knows you don't smoke.

You met her a long time ago when some friends of yours were too embarrassed to ask her for weed, so they sent you instead.

At first, you hated Abby because everyone always said "she's hot," "I want to have sex with her," etc. You thought people were exaggerating about her until you saw her for the first time.

Your friends were damn right.

She was a goddess: masculine, tall, muscular, dark blonde hair braided in a fishtail, pale freckled skin, and blue eyes.

Everything you liked together. Let's just say the truth. You got a crush on her immediately.

You loved masculine women more than your life, but we all know that masc4masc women are almost impossible. You tried to be more feminine once, but it made you uncomfortable, and you knew that being masculine wouldn’t make you attractive to other mascs, so you got used to having a crush on a masc but then letting your eyes get off of her immediately because it was useless.

{ "Like for real, can't you go and ask her yourself?"

"ARE YOU CRAZY? ARE YOU ASKING ME TO GO TALK TO ABBY FUCKING ANDERSON?!" you turn your head to your other friend.

"Ash, come on, please..."

"Don't look at me, I like her too."

Fuck...

You had no other choice but to talk to Abby.

You were behind a tall guy, so you couldn't see Abby at all. The moment the guy in front of you got away, freeing your view, you melted inside.

"Hey, can I have some of your good stuff?" Abby stared at you for a bit, thinking you were just playing around with her.

"So? Are we going to be here all night, or are you going to give me some of your shit so I can leave?"

"You don't look like a girl who smokes."

"Just give me the fucking weed, man."

"Watch your mouth, princess," she said, smirking all the time while talking to you.

Princess?

Just when you were about to say something back, you got a call.

"No, I haven't taken it yet. I'll be back in a second."

Abby watched you, a bit confused, but she was understanding something.

"My friends were too embarrassed to come get it themselves, and they're also in a hurry. Can you just give me the weed and let me go?"

Bingo, she was right.

You gave her the money, and she finally gave it to you.

"Told you, you don't look like a girl who smokes."

"I don't want to be drug-obsessed like my fucking father." you say nonchalant

From that phrase, her smirk disappeared, and everything changed from Abby's perspective. You went back to your friends, and you guys hung out for a bit. After your friends got tired of walking, you sat down at some typical stairs with them, where they could smoke with no problems.While you were chatting with them, you saw a familiar woman walking towards your direction, Abby.You didn't care that much because those stairs were full of people smoking, drinking, or just chilling out. Your friends quietly freaked out when they saw her but without being noticeable. At first, you thought she knew someone in all this mess until your friends noticed her coming literally towards your direction.

"Hey princess, can you come here for a second?" she said with that fucking smirk.

You swore to God you wanted to rip it off her face.

You hesitated for a few seconds and then went down the stairs to reach her. She walked up to you, breaking the little space you had created between you two, and you were a few inches away from her.

"What do you want? If it's about the money, don't even try to argue with me. The money wasn't mine, and it wasn't any of my business, so you can go argue with my frien—"

"Shut up." You froze at this phrase and were getting ready for anything that could happen.

"Just wanted your number in case you want other things from me."

"I told you already, I don't smoke. If you want, I can give you one of my friend's numbers."

"You came reaching for me, not them."

You turned your head back to look at your friend and then back at Abby.

"Listen, Abby, each one of my friends right there has a crush on you. If I give you my number, they will get mad at me and think I'm trying to have something with you, trying to make them jealo—"

"Well, fuck them then." Abby put her arm behind your back, pushing you a little to make you walk with her until you were right next to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Relax."

"I hate you." She laughed at your sentence.

While you two walked away, Abby started a conversation with you, and you guys talked almost all night. When you had to leave, she insisted on having your number, saying she didn't care about your friends.

Since that day, you two enjoyed your time together more.

Funny, right?

Back to the present

There was a quiet silence between you two until...

"What's up with you?" Abby said, turning her head to look at you.

"Huh?"

"You're quiet today, something you barely are."

"It's nothing," you said, taking a small sip of your beer without looking at her.

"You're lying"

"I'm not, Abigail."

At that name, she turned to you, placed her hand on your shoulder, and pushed you a little. "Don't put the mean masc on me right now. You know you're not."

You rolled your eyes in response.

"Tell me what's going on, princess."

Princess.

A stupid nickname she gave you for playing around and not the way you wished she used it for you.

"I just... like a girl who doesn't like me back." At this phrase, Abby removed her back from the wall you two were sitting against and sat in front of you.

"And why doesn't this bitch"

"Don't call her that, Abby"

"Fine, fine," she said in an annoying tone while she carried her joint close to her lips and held it in, letting a puff of gray smoke out.

"She's just not into me."

"Don't lie to me. I know there's more."

"Oh my God, Abby."

"What? Can't I know why this bitch doesn't want you?" She kept her serious and attractive tone all the time. Why does she have to do that?

"Abby."

"Come on, Y/N."

"She's not into mascs, so I'm not her type at all. Caring and shit. She won't ever see me like that."

"It's not that big of a deal then"

"It is for me."

"Let me guess, she's a masc too."

"Yeah."

"You'll find someone else who's better than her."

"See, that's why I can't talk with you."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Abby, you never had a serious relationship. You've never been really in love. You literally flirt with 100 women every hour."

"That doesn't mean I can't give you my advice."

"Yeah, easy for you to say that. You can have every girl you want, and they will come to you with no second thoughts."

"What does it have to do with me, Y/N?" she said with her typical tone, even if irritated.

"Nothing, you don't understand," you said, looking away from her and taking another sip of your beer.

"Then what's the problem?"

"None, let's just forget about this."

"Now you tell me."

"I said, there's no problem."

"You know I'm not some of your stupid friends. Think about how you treat me," she said like she was about to kill you, but you ignored her completely.

"I'm talking to you," she said, grabbing your face with one of her veiny hands to face her.

"The problem is she's right in front of me," you said without noticing, irritated by the action she just did, removing her hand from your face brutally.

Oh fuck.

"What did you say?"

"I didn't mean it, I'm just mad." You didn't look at her, but with the corner of your eye, you saw a smirk appearing on her face.

"Abby, I'm drunk now. You can't take what I say seriously."

"A drunk person doesn't know she's drunk."

"Can you shut the fuck up?" After your sentence, Abby grabbed you by the neck and pulled you towards her face. You could literally see all her little freckles that you can't normally see.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your mouth, princess?"

"Abby, let me go. You're high," you said, trying to let go of her hand by trying to stand up but failing and falling on her lap.

"I can handle all of this more than you," she said, wrapping her hands around your waist.

"Abby, don't do things you're going to regret later."

"I'm not going to."

"Abby, seriously, I'm not any of your bitches. Don't fucking play with me."

"Watch your attitude with me, Y/N," she whispered, then slowly kissed your lips. Your mind started spinning so fast, and your heart was about to explode. One of her hands moved from your waist and slid into your pants. Her fingers made a connection with your clothed pussy.Slowly, her finger ran up your slit through your panties.

"Abby.."

"I'm right here, princess," she said as she applied more pressure, causing you to whimper, your hips bucking into her finger that wouldn't stop running through your slit. "Tell me, baby, who told you I wasn't into you, huh?" she said with a smirk plastered on her face. You didn't respond, too shocked by the situation. "Look at me." You hid yourself even more in her neck, too afraid of what could happen. "Y/N, I said look at me." You moved your head from her neck to face her. Those blue eyes were eating you alive.

"You're such a good girl." Abby pushed your panties to the side, and you moaned instantly, your body jerking as she slipped a finger inside you. "Look at you, so sweet and caring, kinda turns me on," she said, adding another finger into you while giving you hickeys on your exposed neck. All of this was unbelievable to you, so without caring too much, you started riding on her fingers. Her lips sucking on your neck, her fingers going in and out of your pussy, it was too much pleasure that you came right after hearing Abby moan in satisfaction.

"Fuck... Abby," you said, trying to catch your breath again, resting your head on her neck while she removed her hand from your panties and licked her fingers from your juices. You took a few seconds to realize what happened, and when you did, you tried to get away from Abby's grip, hoping you could run away and never see her again so you could drown your feelings for her, until you felt a pressure keeping you down.

"Where are you going, princess? You're stuck with me now," she said while her hands made their way under your shirt, caressing your back.

"I don't believe you, Abigail."

"Call me that name again, and I'Il find a way to shut this little pretty mouth of yours."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Don't worry, I'll show you who you belong to."

"Fuck you," you said, not looking at her.

You knew she probably just used you as her sex toy, so you tried your best not to fuck her off and run away.

Part 2?😭

[wtaacde]

As a bilingual person who's been reading way too many fanfics with bilingual characters I reeeaaallly need to make a statement on how our minds work most of the time so people stop getting it wrong!

It's making me cringe so much 🥲

So I'm making a list of what I think is important to know when it comes to writing bilingual characters.

I've seen some simmilar posts on this topic, so some things might be repetitive but others are not, so stick with me. I'll be adding some personal examples to make it easier and more comprehensible.

So let's get started!

Master list to writing bilingual characters!

With no especific order os hierarchy.

1- This is the biggest mistake I see people making when writting bilingual character, so let's make this crystal clear: Bilingual people rarely mix their languages by accident!!!!

Especially if they've been living in a place where no one speaks their mother tongue and have little to no contact with their original culture.

Now, for the moments we do make those mix ups, it'll usually be with expressions we use all the time on our day to day lifes.

Let's work with examples!

I'm fluent in English, but my original language is Portuguese. In Portuguese, whenever someone is in a conversation we make this "éééééé" sound while we're thinking or unsure of what to say. It would be similar to the "uuuuhhh" people use in English.

I find myself and a lot of other Brasilian people saying "éééé" all the time even when speaking English, because that comes more naturally to us. It's an instict reaction that doesn't pass through the language shift that happens in our brain.

This also happens with more especific expresions. I don't talk to any foreign people, but when texting I catch myself trying to call people "amiga", which translates to "friend" and is normally used as an endearing term to call your friends or even strangers in a way to show friendliness. Now, not everyone in Brasil refers to their friends as "amiga", but I do, and I use it so much it slips in my vocabulary in English.

So, to summarize, there are expressions or words from our mother languages that come out almost as an instinct, but there usually aren't many of them and the frequency in which it happens is proportional to how much contact we have with speaking our native language.

2- Next up (and this is a funny one to me): it's easier to make math in our first language. If we were schooled in our first language, obviously. This could happen conciously or not.

So if you want your characters to have a funny moment, just have them do some math in their original language. This happens because we learned math and nurmbers in our mother language, and math is the same everywhere, so when we're learning another language we don't go through the same process with learning to use numbers practically like we do with words. So despite knowing what the numbers are called, it's still easier doing math in our language because our thought process is a lot faster and smoother in it.

3- We will revert completely to our mother language if we're emotional.

This could range from seeing a cute puppy and having a cuteness overload and instantly calling them cute pet names in our language to getting so mad that the only acceptable way to express our anger is to curse in our own tongue.

This sudden change happens naturally but they are intentional. We could totally curse and fawn in a different language but we choose not to because of the next point on this list.

4- Words are more meaningful in our own language.

I'll go straight to examples, because I know fic and romance writers are gonna have a field day with this.

When my dog was alive, I always talked to her in both English and Portuguese. But whenever I complimented her or told her I loved her in English, it felt fake. So I always repeated what I said in Portuguese and then I felt like I properly expressed my feelings.

So if i said something like "You're the cutest little baby in the world! I love you so much!" I always had to follow it up with. "Quem é a coisinha mais fofinha desse mundo todo? É o amor da minha vida? É, você é o amor da minha vida! Eu te amo mais que tudo nesse mundo!"

Only then did I consider she understood the depths of my love for her.

This also works in more angsty ways:

My parents were always very distant, so during one especific Father's day, when I was a kid, my school, as usual, had us making DIY presents for our fathers. We were supposed to write messages on the gifts and all my classmates were writing "eu te amo" on theirs. I couldn't write it, but it still felt like I had to or it would be weird. So I wrote "I love you" instead, because it felt less like a lie. Now, let's focus on the fact that I was a child. I had barely started learning English. I was nowhere near fluent. But it still felt easier to write "I love you" than "eu te amo". I never said "eu te amor" to my parents again.

Now, we had some fluff and some angst. Now let's get to humor!

Swearing always feels better in your own language. Do with that what you will.

5- On the subject of swearing, we will talk shit about anyone right in front of their face in a language they don't know and use different languages to mess with people.

This doesn't even need to be done with our first language (although it would feel more satisfying). Any language would do as long as the other person doesn't understand it. Bonus points if we get to do that with a friend/group of friends.

When I was a teenager I had just one friend that was also fluent in English. We used to talk to each other mostly in English for three reasons: the first one was obviously to practice, the second was to gossip with each other without people understanding and the third was so we could pretend we were foreigners and see people's reactions. We were two little shits that talked about the craziest stuff and no one bat an eye.

6- Now, let's finally look in the correct and conscious ways in which we change languages in the middle of a conversation.

First one and the one that happens the most is when we forget a word in one language.

I do this all the time and it sucks! I constantly forget how to say "concealer" in Portuguese and go around asking my family what's the translation even though no one speaks English in my house. I can't even remember the translation right now! A few days ago I couldn't remember how to say "pulseira" in English. It means "bracelet". It's an easy word. I still forgot it. Although I would recognize it if I saw it somewhere or if someone told me, my brain wasn't willing to do that work on its own.

So when this happens in real life, we'll always ask the people around us for the translation, even if they don't know the other language we speak, just in the hopes that they will understand the ✨ vibe ✨.

It's also really funny when this happens and the other person does speak both languages and also can't remember the translation. And sometimes we forget the word in both languages and have to resort to describing "the thing", which usually leads to a lot of misunderstandings.

Another way in which we change languages is when we want to use a very especific expression or memes in another language.

I'm gonna use Brazilian expressions for this because they're pure gold!

One that I find really funny (and somewhat family friendly for this post) is "o que o cú tem a ver com as calças?" which literally translates to "what does the asshole have to do with the pants?". If you think a little bit, you can still understand the meaning, but not all expressions work like that. If anyone's confused, the expression means that the other person is trying to talk about two different subjects that aren't at all correlated. You're basically asking "what does one thing have to do with the other?" with more crude language.

When we do this we can either just throw the expression in a different language and not elaborate on it, or try and explain it to the people around. It can vary.

7- If you have friends or family that also speak the same languages as you, you'll be shifting languages all the time without any warning.

I have a friend that most of our hangouts consist of watching K-dramas together. We live in Brasil, so we speak Portuguese, but we watch the k-drama in Korean and the subtitles are in English. During out binging marathon, we will speak all three languages with each other, even if none of us speak Korean. Sometimes we mix the words in all the languages, sometimes we have a full conversation in one language then switch to another on another point in time. Forgeting words in one language doesn't mean a thing in situtations like this. We'll just say the word in the language we remember and move on with the conversation.

This is everything I can remember for now. If anyone remembers other quirks of bilingual people, feel free to add on. If I remember more I'll keep adding to this post.

If you read all the way to the end, thank you and congratulations!

[mayu-otome]

Drink, Get Drunk, And Drown - Alfons Sylvatica

These translations are solely for entertainment and not profit. Accuracy is not 100% guaranteed. MDNI

(quick note that English and Japanese are not my native language and there might be some errors and mistakes in my grammar and wording in the translation)

On the way back from accompanying a mission to a warehouse suspected of selling drugs.

Roger: You have some nerve to use a person as a human shield.

Alfons: I'm putting to good use, those muscles you're so proud of. shouldn't you be grateful towards me instead?

The two started fighting.

(It all started when Alfons used Roger as a shield against a gun-wielding man...)

Alfons: Can you not come any closer? Joining shoulders with a filthy man like you is giving me the chills.

Roger: Young lady, say something too.

Kate: .… I agree with Roger on this one!

Alfons: How cruel! You're disregarding your lover and agreeing with that man's opinion!

Kate: You shouldn’t use people as shields in the first place!

Alfons knocks Roger arm off and wraps his arm around my waist.

Alfons: Then we'll be around here. Let's go, Kate.

Roger: Hey, you're not planning on running away, are you?

Roger: I risked my life to protect you. I guess it makes sense to treat me to a glass of alcohol

Alfons: Huh? Why do I have to treat you?

Roger: Generally you—

(If things continue like this, we won't get anywhere. When it comes to this...!)

Kate: I’ll treat you!

Alfons & Roger: …..Huh?

…

Alfons had a disgusted look on his face as Roger gulped down his beer.

Alfons: You've finished drinking. Please go home.

Roger: Of course I’m still going to drink

Alfons: You're always drinking the same thing. seriously, you're no fun at all.

Roger: What’s wrong with drinking what you like?

Kate: Alfons, you seem to know a lot about Roger.

Alfons: This is a well-known fact that everyone in Crown knows, but it’s not even worth remembering.

Roger: I've known Al for a long time.

Alfons: I'm very dissatisfied.

Roger: I think of you as a friend.

Roger: Kate, if something ever happens with this guy, I'll be your listening ear however much you need.

Alfons: In your case, it’s probably not enough to just listen.

Roger: I mean, the little lady’s face is quite my type.

Kate: Eh….!

Alfons: What are you embarrassed about? Don’t tell me….. You’re planning to cheat on me in public?

Kate: T-this is because of the alcohol!

Alfons: Heh….. I’ll leave it at that.

Suddenly, a joyful voice rises from the seat in the back.

When I looked over, I saw two men lying face down on a table with many glasses on it.

Alfons: Most likely they were having a showdown to see who could drink more.

Roger chuckled upon hearing those words

Roger chuckled upon hearing those words, seemingly having thought of an idea.

Roger: Let's do it too, Al.

Alfons: No thanks, Please do it alone.

Roger: You're not in the mood, then—

Roger: How about betting on the young lady?

Kate: Me?!

Alfons: What ridiculous thing did you just say?

Roger: If I win, I'll spend the night drinking with the young lady. If you win, I'll pay for the drinks and get out of here.

Alfons: I don't want to have anything to do with you

Roger: Are you afraid of losing to me?

Alfons: —Huh?

Alfons: ... I get it. Let's do it.

Kate: You're really going to!?

Alfons: It's okay. I won't lose to this idiot.

Leaving me surprised at this unexpected turn of events, the two of them took a quick sip from their glasses.

Alfons: You can still drink... please just hurry up and pass out.

Roger: You're not already at your limit?

Alfons: Please don't take your jokes too far.

(Roger is strong. Alfons is a stronger drinker too.)

(Still…..)

His hair is disheveled behind his ears, his reddish cheeks and unusually loose lips doubling his sex appeal.

(As expected, this might be violating the rules.)

As I’m exposed to the sex appeal of my drunken lover, our eyes meet.

Alfons: ....What kind of face are you making?

Kate: eh?

Alfons: I'm leaving

Alfons stood up and grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand.

Kate: We're still in the middle of a showdown…

Alfons slammed the money down on the table and glared at Roger.

Alfons: Were you satisfied?

Roger: I'm satisfied because I found out that you're more excited than I imagined. Kate, next time let's have a drink when Al isn't around.

Alfons: ...It seems you really want to be killed.

Roger: Haha! If you try to kill me, I'll shoot you back.

Alfons: …. I’m leaving

(This is the first time I've seen you so drunk...)

His gait was shaky and unsteady….

(Besides, he’s usually talk a lot, but…. he’s been quiet the whole time.)

(They say that alcohol reflects a person's true feelings, but I'm surprised that Alfons is so quiet.)

…

Kate: Kyaa!

The moment I entered the room, I was pushed onto the bed.

He got between my legs and hung over me so that I couldn't move, before stealing my lips.

Kate: ….Nn, Al

Alfons: ….You looked incredibly naughty just a little while ago

His tongue slipped into my mouth.

Alfons: You got excited seeing me drunk? What a pervert.

Kate: That—!

The spilled breath was hot.

The ribbon of her blouse was untied and her underwear was roughly pulled down.

Kate: Ah!

The moment the red ripe tip was played, a sweet voice came out.

Alfons: ……

He usually says provocative words here, but for some reason, he just kept attacking me relentlessly.

Kate: Not there—!

My legs instinctively tried to close in pleasure, but were blocked by his hand.

Alfons: ...Isn't it faster than usual?

Kate: Because, ah!

A long finger slowly enters through the gap in her shorts.

Kate: It’s hot….

I feel like I'm going crazy just from the heat of the fingertips,

(Because Alfons is silent….!)

The lewd sound of water echoed throughout the quiet room, and my aroused body came to an abrupt climax.

Kate: Nn !

Alfons silently put his hands on his belt.

Kate: Al—-

Alfons: ... Seriously, what was going on with that man?

Kate: Eh?

(That man is Roger, right?)

With an irritated look, he threw his hair back and gently stroked my cheek.

Alfons: I'd never give you to him.

Kate: … Are you perhaps jealous?

Alfons: …. What if I say yes?

Kate: Ah…..

Alfons: It's fine, so please just let me hold you.

I gasped at the warmth that replaced the fingers that smoothly left my cheeks.

Alfons: I love you because I'll be causing a big scar that'll someday drive you into despair.

She drowns in the pleasure he gives her and becomes intoxicated with him.

<The next day>

When I opened my eyes to the glare, I found myself in his arms.

(Innocence sleeping face…..)

Just as I was about to reach out to touch his cheek.

Alfons: Will you give me a kiss?

Kate: You’re awake !?

Alfons: I’m not awake. Look, my eyes are still closed, right?

Kate: You’re already awake.

Ignoring him, who was reluctant to open his eyes, I tried to get up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

Alfons: Let's go back to sleep. I drank too much and I'm really tired.

Kate: …. I think I'll go get some hangover medicine from Roger.

Alfons: When did you become such a bad girl, always mentioning other men's names in bed?

In an instant, I couldn’t help but laugh at the furrowed brows.

Alfons: What are you laughing at?

Kate: Fufu... that's because I thought that even you'd get jealous, Alfons.

He let out a sigh as I laughed.

Alfons: What if I say yes?

I put my arms around his neck, trying to answer the same lines as last night.

Kate: I’m happy

Kate: And... I was a little happy to see you different from usual.

Alfons: …. You seriously are something else.

When he finally opened his eyes, he lowered his eyebrows in annoyance, smiled, and kissed my forehead.

Alfons: You really are an idiot.

[rhiaarrow]

Honestly I think Bad and the Late Night Trio is my favorite dynamic that's come out of the QSMP.

And I'm not just talking about qBad, Dapper, Pomme and Richas I'm also talking about ccBad, Dappmin, Pommin and Ricardão.

It's just the little things they do, because they're just so used to each other by now and the adms have become such good friends because of the amount of time they spend together on and off the server.

There's just so many examples that stick in my head because they're just so sweet when you realize that none of this people knew each other this time last year.

Like the time when Richas just showed up in front of Bad randomly one day after the reset (the day that Dapper set up the magnet mining machine) and just went;

"Dapper told me through the magic of discord to come see the cool stuff you've been doing, what am I here to see tio?"

Or when Bad and Dapper were out investigating and Dapper puts down a sign saying;

"Richas won't stop telepathically asking if he can come visit."

To which Bad just offhandedly replies

"If he can Dragon Magic his way here then sure, but I am not walking all the way home already."

And sure enough, a few minutes later we hear Richas' horn sound out as he appears out of the blue, having finally been given permission by Dappmin to join their exploration

Not to mention the amount of times we've arrived and been told by Bad; "So heres what [Richas or Pomme or Dapper or any combination of those 3] and I did off stream. "

Or "No Richas I'm not leaving I'm just sending the Ghosties off."

Or when Bad was attempting to figure out how to bribe Richas into keeping his armour on in Lucky Ducks by figuring out what he loved the most before going

"If you don't put your armour on I'll take away fofoca time."

And then explained to the chat that 'fofoca time' is what Richas calls it when he and Bad hang out after stream and that got Richas to put his armour on immediately.

Or even today when Bad threatened to end stream in order to make Richas use a heart container.

Not to mention the night Pommin and Ricardão spent with ccBad training him in battleship before that day in Purgatory 2 or the night they spent modifying the egg signs together.

My favorite example of how close they are even outside of their characters will still forever be the night when Bad, Richas and Pomme were collecting ice together to cover the favela ocean and Ricardão and Pommin were very obviously sat in a vc together while the mined.

They spent a while teaching Bad and the other how to pronounce certain sounds in their native languages.

Then Richarlyson asked Bad about a sound he struggled with in English so Bad taught Ricardão how to make the 'th' sound in the English language correctly while Pommin judged the noise they were making because Bad obviously couldn't hear.

Then later Bad asks Pomme where Richas went since he wasn't visible on the map and she just stands there before telling him that she knows the location and taking him to the exact coordinates.

And they do that a couple times until Bad finally decides to sneak up on Richas and scares Ricardão so bad that he stops moving completely in game for a solid minute and Pommin is just keyboard smashing on signs because she's laughing too hard at how loudly they screamed.

And then Ricardão had to go afk for a couple minutes later on because someone had come to check on them since they'd screamed so loud so early in the morning and they had to tell them that they were, in fact, fine.

Sure right now the way they interact with each other definitely slightly breaks Bad's rp of not knowing each other, especially with Richas.

But at the end of the day when they hang out together it's not just qBad and Richarlyson, it's also Ricardão & ccBad who have spent a frankly ridiculous amount of hours playing together in the less than a year they've known each other (not counting the time Ricardão admitted to being a fan of BBH for).

In fact Ricardão confirmed to Foolish today that since the reset they're the player with the second highest playtime, after Bad, but only by a little bit, and I just think that's very fitting.

Long story short, I LOVE the late night trio and Bad's dynamic because they're just such a chaotic mess who are all willing to do anything and everything that one of them wants to do, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.

It's soooooooo hard to believe they've not even known each other for a year yet because they just all click so fucking well that it's insane.

People from 4 different nationalities, 3 of them playing speechless eggs, and they've become so close thanks to this server. I just think it's beautiful :')

(It is also 3am so I may just be rambling nonsense, so if this makes no sense forgive me xD)

[wakkass]

It's impossible to put into words how much I love designing characters, especially for AU.

Yes, I recently had an avatar AU, and I really wanted to draw Katara from there (and also Zuko). I usually draw a static pose in order to display all the details of the clothes. This is such a kind of character sheet that helps me to better imagine the scenes in my head.

If you're interested in reading about the AU itself, then there will be some information about it.

I apologize in advance for mistakes in the text, English is not my native language. But, I hope, this will not interfere with understanding.

In general, my AU concerns the ending of the series, because at some point it seemed unrealistic to me. There is too much positivity with the obvious problems of the post-military space, as well as little logic in some moments (for example, I don't understand what Zuko was doing in Ba Sing Se. Did he abandon his newfound throne to the mercy of fate with the risk of a palace coup? Did he not feel the effects of a lightning strike? The longer I think about it, the surreal it seems to me).

At some point I thought, "this is all like Aang's dream, in which everything is intentionally good. As if this is the ending he wants, but it's unattainable." And then it dawned on me. But it really looks like his fantasy about the future after defeating the root of evil. This explains why Zuko recovered so easily, why everyone is just relaxing and having fun without a drop of post-trauma. Because Aang wants everything to be so naive and simple after defeating the Fire Lord. Because he's dreaming about it.

I know this is a very hackneyed narrative technique. It's pretty easy to say "this is someone's dream" to deny any events. But I found it curious, especially against the background of the episode "Nightmares and Daydreams", where Aang's dreams already simplified the reality around him. For me, it's like a lead-up to the finale, where he actually sleeps.

You ask, "but why is he sleeping?". I also asked this question, and the answer to it killed me. Because during the battle with Ozai, when the stone hit Aang in the wound, he fell into a coma. His body was paralyzed because his brain perceived it as a repeated lightning strike, again fatal. The avatar's state was the only one that did not allow Aang to die, but only to fall into a coma. And instead of an epic battle, we have a little helpless boy spending a huge amount of energy just to maintain his life.

The second Aang collapsed, he disappeared, leaving Ozai alone with the remnants of his temporary power. And no one else saw the avatar…

I'll leave the intrigue for you about this, but for now I'll tell you about the concepts from the art.

Naturally, everyone searched for Aang, and, naturally, they did not find him. Katara and Zuko were the only ones who did not participate in the search, for several reasons:

Zuko was rehabilitated for a very long time after being struck by lightning, and Katara nursed him (I'm sure there are a lot of fics about this topic. The only difference is that there is no romance here. The focus of my AU is not on it, but on the problems of the consequences of the war). He survived, but he had major problems with his heart, digestive system and spine. Who noticed the cane in his hands? Yes, Zuko couldn't walk without it. From now on and forever. He was physically unable to leave the palace, and Katara maintained at least some of his condition.

Even after Zuko's rehabilitation, it was necessary to keep the power in his hands. Imagine what a shock the Fire Nation experienced when not just the former Fire Lord was overthrown, but the country's policy changed dramatically. Now Zuko needed to keep power in his hands and establish a new regime as soon as possible, before his opponents raised armies and people against him. This boy, who recently sat quietly at a military meeting, needed to show unprecedented strength and power to everyone: both officials sought to turn the situation in their favor, and the people who wanted stability and prosperity. But how to do this if Zuko couldn't even breathe normally, and getting out of bed required tremendous effort? It was impossible… Anyone else would have given up, but not Zuko. He has never given up without a fight and has never turned his back on danger, even if he risks dying.

It hurts me a lot for him, too. Fate has never stopped pushing Zuko against obstacles, but this time he couldn't rely on himself. He almost couldn't bend, his body almost didn't obey. He was an easy target and there was nothing he could do about it. This helplessness irritated him, saddened him, oppressed him. The only thing that wasn't broken yet was his spirit, and Zuko was barely able to maintain it in such conditions. If it wasn't for Katara, I don't know if he would have coped in the end. She was now his only support, his only ally in these cold oppressive walls, the only rational grain in his doubts.

You ask, "Where is Iroh? Where is Mai?"

Iroh, along with the White Lotus, took on a mission to liberate the Earth Kingdom from the Fire Army and establish relations with the kingdom. In fact, Iroh now shared power with Zuko: uncle was engaged in foreign policy so that his nephew could focus on domestic policy.

With Mai, everything was much simpler: after getting out of prison, she was completely disappointed in the guy who always left her. She sent him a letter, where she finally ended their relationship, and left with her family somewhere far away. Perhaps she and Zuko will cross paths again and will be able to establish a relationship. But not now.

Katara remained to help Zuko not only with treatment, but also with his policy. As a resident of an almost disappearing tribe, as well as an able leader, she helped him with projects and plans to improve the quality of life of the population and actively participates in them. She performed those missions that Zuko can only entrust to her. After all, she was a friend he could rely on and to whom he could open his feelings.

In her design, I wanted to reflect the combination of two cultures: Fire and Water. I was based on the designs of the "12 Kingdoms" (if you haven't watched this gorgeous anime or haven't read ranobe, I strongly recommend doing it. This universe is no less interesting than the avatar's world, I'm sure you'll like it), because the palace intrigues and the plot with winning the respect of the court reminds me very much of the story from there.

One day Zuko's legs finally gave up, he could not get up. All the stress he was going through was breaking his body so much that at some point the Katara's treatment stopped working.

It was a very difficult moment for both of them. Zuko has just started to promote his ideas and defend his rights to the throne, and Katara sincerely did not know what to do. If the truth about the true state of the Fire Lord had come out, all the ill-wishers would not leave this opportunity and attack, this couldn't be allowed. They urgently needed to create the appearance that everything is in order, but how?

Zuko came up with a very brazen idea. He asked Katara to use bloodbending on him to simulate walking. It was a very difficult request for her, because this skill represented the worst face of the war, it was created to torture people. And the last thing she wanted was to torment Zuko. She hesitated for a long time, he saw it, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't stop, it wasn't a luxury he could afford. Therefore, he went out, trying not to get up and move much.

Naturally, at some point his weakness was noticed at the most inopportune moment. Naturally, at this moment Katara couldn't let Zuko fall. Imperceptibly under her sleeves, she moved her friend's body like a puppet, causing him as much unbearable pain as most would not stand. But Zuko was not like that. He stood it.

It looked like this to me somehow:

They were both very depressed that day. He was suffering physically because of Katara's bending, and she could not believe that she had caused the suffering of a person dear to her. It broke and scared her, she opened the way to the Hama's madness, and was very afraid to fall into it.

Zuko assured her that it was impossible. Hama didn't have people to guide her, while Katara has friends. Maybe Zuko didn't consider himself the best moral mentor, but he promised to be there in the most difficult moments for Katara, and now he won't leave her.

This encouraged her and opened her eyes to her own cowardice. She was afraid of the darkness of Hama, and instead of curbing it, Katara hid it in herself, ignored it. And that's what it led to: the person who needed her help suffered. But she didn't want to run away anymore. She wasn't going to give up without a fight and turn her back on those who needed her.

At the beginning, Katara trained on herself, experiencing the same pain as the victims of bloodbending. Careless movement of blood through the vessels could cause internal bleeding at any time, it was very dangerous. The Hama's voice in her head pressed on her conscience, saying that innocent people felt all this pain, and only Katara was to blame for this.

Later, she learned to control the flow of water on puppets, like Hama. The point was to pass water through the threads without bursting them. Absolute control was required here, and Zuko taught her the techniques of firebending for self-control. This was necessary for Katara, because the Hama's voice in her head did not subside and did not allow her to correctly distribute her forces. It seemed like Katara was about to stumble, but Zuko wouldn't let her do it.

Gradually, Katara mastered this skill and tried to draw blood on Zuko's legs. The effect was unexpected. Her great willpower and desire to help him resulted in healing. Zuko began to feel his legs, and Katara discovered the reverse side of this bending. No, she didn't heal him completely, it's too early for him to get rid of the cane. But maybe one day she will become so strong that she can do it.

Katara realized that there was no evil magic, there was only evil intent. This was her first step towards learning to look inner demons in the face, and not to hide them in herself when it was possible to hurt others.

But what about the other design?

Katara's father sent her a letter asking her to return. Her family needed her help, because she was the last waterbender, a carrier of culture and skills, as well as a healer of a new level, the daughter of a tribal leader.

At home, everything was not the same as before, moreover, everything taked shape as a Northern Tribe. I really like the idea of the comic "North and South" about the problem of assimilation. Only here has Katara accepted all aspects of its culture, even the most unpleasant ones, and she would not give up so easily when this newfound knowledge was in danger of disappearing.

Actually, I wanted to draw her outfit of this arch. I wanted to redesign the costume for myself, because I like to do it. I kept the front strands of Katara, we don't talk much about them.

I would really like to describe the path of the rest of the team and what they do, of Aang and what happens to him. But I'm already tired of typing, and you probably read.

After all, the post is more about designs, and not about the AU itself, so the goal to reveal some of my ideas has been achieved in principle. Maybe sometime later.

Hope you enjoyed reading this :3

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: " I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: angst, fight, toxic parents, fluff, smut, smut and smut! dirty talk, orgasm, squirting (Yessss) 👅 oral sex (male and female) fingering 🤟, nipple sucking, Jungkook calls reader a slut (just once, sorry) Jungkook knows what he's doing 🤌

A/N: Hello! I came back later than expected 😬 sorry! Here is the chapter! I hope you like it! From here on, I am writing the story. Everything you have read so far was written last year. I ask for a little more patience because I need to write, edit, and English is not my native language! Thank you for all the support! (PLEASE VOTE!)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 7

"I didn't know about your college, let alone that you are studying to be a teacher, Y/N," Mr. Jeon says, putting the chocolate dessert in his mouth. I nod my head, excited to talk about a topic I love so much.

"Yes, I love children. I thought it would be a way to work with something I enjoy, and things are going really well." I reply with a smile. Knowing that my course is practically finished and that there is less than a month until I graduate gives me a pleasant thrill in my stomach. All the hard work and dedication are finally paying off.

"I'm so proud of you. I can't wait for you to start working in the field you're studying," my mom comments beside me, her eyes squinting when she smiles. I know it's true because she was one of the people who encouraged me the most to pursue this career. "The schools in Busan are great, big and prestigious. Y/N will adapt very well."

Mrs. Jeon shakes her head with a radiant face, happy for me. I, on the other hand, lose all my excitement. My mom knows, because I've mentioned a few times, that I don't want to stay in Busan after I graduate. I like being here since I've lived in this city practically my whole life, but I feel inside me that I need new challenges. I don't want to spend the rest of my days under my mother's wings. I'm curious about myself and how far my limits go, too. I know I'm capable of doing this.

It's not her fault that I'm like this, so attached and dependent. Since my father passed away and we were left alone in such a hostile world, she became my escape valve. Her approval suddenly became the most important thing in my life. I started looking at her as if she could leave me at any moment, just like my father, and that transformed me into what I am today: vulnerable, indecisive and weak. I've been trying to strengthen my mind these days. I started questioning the decisions I made in previous years and noticed, not without some surprise, that I never did what I really wanted. Jungkook, by a miracle, was my only wish fulfilled by my own desire. It's as if I wanted him so much, that even my bindings couldn't prevent me from having him.

"Let's see, mom. There are several other schools I want to try to get into." I respond, and almost at the same moment, her body tenses. She turns to me and opens her mouth to reply, but knocks on the door sound throughout the house before she can continue. I almost sigh with relief, knowing that at least for now, I'm free from any scolding.

"Excuse me, I'll see who it is." Mr. Jeon gets up from the chair and heads to the living room. After a few seconds, he returns with a smile on his face, with Jungkook behind him. Of course it's him; who else could it be? His hair looks different, in a new cut that makes his face look more youthful; his cheeks are fuller, and his eyes much bigger.

I take a deep breath and try to keep my expression as neutral as possible. He greets my mother with a nod, perhaps knowing that it's better to keep his distance from her, and hugs Misuk, wrapping his arms around her back. It's nice to see their interaction together. They really love and respect each other. Then he turns to me and squeezes my hand with a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you?" He asks with a light smile. I am impressed; his performance couldn't be better. It's almost as if we hadn't been talking almost all day through messages. If I didn't know him, I could swear I hadn't been to his house two days ago. That we didn't kiss so much that, almost by a thread, I lose my iron control and decide to throw myself at him completely.

"Everything's great, and you?"

"All good, too." He sits in the chair in front of me, watching the food that had just been our dinner.

"Jungkook, how about you eat something? You’ve been looking so thin lately." Mrs. Jeon furrows her brows, analyzing the dark-haired guy from head to toe. I wonder if she really thinks he's thin. All I see are muscles and a large, healthy body. I remain silent, poking the dessert with the tip of my fork.

"I'm fine, mom. I'm not hungry. I just came to see you. I missed you." He responds affectionately. I can't help but smile, happy to see how he acts with her. It's cute, if that's the right word to describe a heavily tattooed man like Jungkook.

"You should sleep here, Jungkook." His father comments to his son, looking at the silver watch that wraps around his wrist. "It's already quite late. I don't want you to ride that huge motorcycle in the dark."

"I'm fine... The motorcycle is completely safe." He grumbles, pouting as his parents look at him worriedly. He seems like a sulking teenager, not a tattoo artist full of piercings who lives alone in a bachelor apartment. I let out a small laugh trying to disguise it, but he notices. He bites his lips hard and stares at me for a few seconds. I divert my eyes to my hands, fiddling with the dark pink nail polish that decorates my nails. "Alright. I'll sleep here tonight."

"Perfect! You can stay in the room you used on the first day you came to Busan." His mother suggests, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"Yeah, that works. I loved that room." Jungkook responds with an ironic tone that's hard not to notice. Is he trying to provoke me? He smiles slightly, and for a few seconds his attention focuses on me. "With a great view from the window… you know? Of the garden and everything."

"Alright then, it’s settled." Mrs. Jeon seems excited, holding his shoulders with an almost indescribable happiness. "And how have you been, son? You’ve been visiting me less and less. I'm worried about you, whether you're sleeping well, drinking water, and eating right."

"I've been very busy lately." He takes the juice from the table and pours himself a bit. "It's hard to find tattoo artists I can trust. I still haven't found someone who really has the style I'm looking for. The designs I like aren't very common here in Busan, from what I've noticed."

"Tattoo artists… My God!" Eunji suddenly whispers, disgusted. I open my mouth to try to interrupt her and stop her from saying one of her craziness, but she’s quicker than me. "Every time I see someone with a tattoo, I wonder how they had the courage to dirty their own skin like that. It's horrible to think that these things, whether the person wants it or not, have no return."

"Mom!" I hiss, completely embarrassed. I cover my face with my hands, not knowing where to look. The Jeon family seems surprised, but this acidic comment doesn't shock me. She always does this because she can't keep the peace for too long. It's as if she enjoys causing disagreements, no matter who it is with.

"It's the truth, Y/N!" She argues, as if she were shocked that I disagree. "These things are from the devil! How can someone mark their body like that? It was God who created us in his most perfect form. I just don’t understand!"

"Eunji... I understand what you mean. But everyone chooses their own way to live. I don't think God disapproves of someone just because they have drawings on their skin." Misuk, our neighbor, shares her opinion. That's what I think too. I nod to everyone and make it clear that, even though I'm Eunji's daughter, I don't agree with her. Not in a million years.

"God disapproves, Misuk! I'm surprised you don't think like I do." My mother continues. I sigh, trembling, completely nervous. "The youth today only think about worldly things, drinking and adorning themselves as if they were delinquents! I can't believe this will be the future of our society!"

"Are you saying I didn't raise my child well?" Mrs. Jeon questions. Her face is neutral, but her voice rises a few notes. She finally seems irritated, and rightly so. I would be too, if someone came into my house and said those barbarities.

"Mom, I think it's time for us to go." I get up from the table without waiting for a response. I'm so embarrassed I can't look at anyone, much less Jungkook, who's been quiet the whole time. It's as if he isn't affected by my mother's comments, but I'm aware that deep down, he feels uncomfortable.

"I'm not saying you raised your son badly, but look at him, Misuk! He dresses like he’s part of those bad things. He must be going from party to party doing God knows what. He put those horrible things on his face!" She grunts disgustedly, convinced that she's saying the right things. I try to breathe deeply and groan, desperate to leave. "Y/N only goes where I allow her, and has never even set foot in those dubious places. I let her sleep here last week, but I'm seriously thinking of denying it if there’s a next time."

I widen my eyes as the words leave her mouth. I look at Misuk and see her furrowing her brows in confusion, as if she doesn't know what my mother is talking about. She opens her mouth to respond, disoriented, but Jungkook is quicker and steps in front of her, suddenly.

"I think it's getting late." He says with a false smile on his face. He looks at me for a few seconds and then continues, "This conversation could go on for a while. Mom, I've worked a lot this week. Is it okay if we rest earlier tonight?"

"No, dear, but..." My neighbor shares a confused look, staring at me as if asking when I slept at her house. I make a discreet sign that we’ll talk later, and she nods her head, sighing. "I think that's best. Eunji, sorry to interrupt this conversation, but as you can see, my husband and son are very tired. It's better for you to go, please."

I sigh with relief, feeling my heart race in my chest. My mother opens her mouth to retort, but then seems to think better of it and gets up from her chair. I don't even wait for a proper goodbye; I open the door to my neighbors' living room, wave to them, and rush home, without waiting for anyone. My legs are trembling, I'm so nervous. My mother almost discovers the lie I told her, some days ago. I have to thank Mrs. Jeon a lot after this and explain in detail why I lied. I have a problem on my hands because I slept in Jungkook's place and I don’t want to tell her that.

Eunji follows me, almost like an angry bull, seeing everything red. She stops in the living room, slams the door of our house, and then stares at me, her dark eyes full of tension. I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.

"Do you have a problem, Y/N?" She asks, frowning. The few wrinkles she has become more prominent when she does that.

"What do you mean?" I ask in a low voice, scared and fearful.

"Why didn’t you agree with me? I am your mother! That man, Misuk's son, he's a complete aberration! You acted like you agreed with them!"

"I didn't agree with anyone, Mom." I grunt, disgusted. I don't like hearing her call Jungkook that way. I knew she didn't like him, not at all, but proving that in real life hurts me much more.

"You did agree! I don't want to see you hanging out with him! I don't know what I was thinking when I let you go with him that day! I must have been crazy!" She screams, and my already aching head throbs even more. She throws her shoe to one side of the living room, out of control, and then looks at me again, with an ironic and insincere smile. "You won't go to Misuk's house anymore. Not me either. That woman... I thought she was sensible, that she was like us, but letting her son dress that way is a terror to me!"

"And what does that have to do with us, Mom?" I ask, shaking my head. Eunji opens her mouth to respond, but I'm quicker. "He's her son, and it's not up to us to judge the lifestyle he decided to have! It's not up to us to judge other people as if we're better than them!"

"Have you gone crazy?" She retorts, increasingly irritated. "I'm not judging him, I'm just pointing out the obvious! Do you think a man like that is going to heaven? With me? Believe it or not, my daughter, hell is full of people like him: who dress like psychopaths and walk around as if they know everything. All I feel is pity."

"You’re not God to know who goes to heaven or not." I whisper, turning my back. My eyes widen when the words escape my mouth uncontrollably. It's as if heavy feelings took over me and expelled the sentence without my consent. I hear a deep gasp of shock from my mother. When I look at her, her face is so filled with hatred that I can hardly recognize her.

"I'm not God, but I'm his daughter! I won't allow you to talk to me like that!" She snarls and approaches me so quickly that my body freezes. I've never seen her like this before, so upset over so little. "Go to your room. This conversation makes no sense, and I'm already tired of it."

And I go, without saying a single word. Things were too good to be true. The reality is that my mother can't control her mouth. Always saying whatever comes to her mind without reasoning how much it can hurt others. Her favorite motto is 'tell the truth, no matter who it hurts.' I hate that, aware that the more my mother does this, offending and discriminating against everyone, the more people will distance themselves from me. Nobody wants to hear, especially in their own home, the craziness she just said.

I take off my shoes, throwing them to the floor, and look at my locked window, still shocked and nervous about the events. Since that day I saw Jungkook taking off his clothes, I haven't left the blinds open, afraid that another embarrassing thing might happen. Curious, I unlock it and peek out, seeing that the light in the room next door is on. I sigh and take a deep breath, and in an act of courage, I throw the window wide open.

"Jungkook!" I half-whisper and half-shout, trying not to draw my mother's attention from downstairs. He doesn't appear, so I call him again. "Jungkook!"

"What are you doing?" He suddenly appears in front of me, coming out of a door inside the room. The bathroom, I suppose, by the white towel around his neck, as if he just brushed his teeth.

"Speak lower." I ask fearfully, lowering my voice. "I don't want anyone to hear us."

"Your mom, in this case." He smiles ironically. I nod, having no desire to laugh. I feel terrible about how the night ended.

"If she finds out that my room is so close to yours, she'll never let me sleep here again." I say jokingly, in a desperate attempt to purge the bad feeling invading my chest. "I called you to apologize. My mom shouldn't have spoken that way about you to your family, saying all those things."

"You could have sent a message." Jungkook replies, shrugging, as if none of this were important.

"I wanted to talk to you in person. I really feel bad." I express myself as best as I can, with all the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"I’ve never met someone as crazy as your mom, and I know a lot of bizarre people out there." He leans against the iron railing of the balcony, mocking. I try to cover my mouth and hide a smile, but it's hard. Jungkook is a goofball. "I had already noticed how she acts, you know? As if she could dictate what is right and what is wrong, so superior."

"I know, she is very difficult." I sigh; I run my hands over my arms, chilled by the increasingly strong night breeze. "She became like this after my dad died."

"Has it been a long time since he passed away?"

"Ten years. It seems so recent, but all this time has gone by. It was very difficult because she worked a lot. She wasn't like this. I remember she even drank a bit on weekends, like a normal person."

"So she kind of went crazy?" He asks curiously, wrinkling his nose. I laugh and shake my head.

"Not quite like that. She's not crazy... She just hasn't understood yet that she's traumatized and can't hurt others because of it." I explain, leaning on the window. We're so close that I can smell his perfume. A nice scent of flowers and fields that I really like. "Did you feel bad about what she said?"

"To tell the truth, no." He shrugs, as if he doesn't care. "I'm used to judgments. If she knew that my ex-boyfriend is a man, she'd freak out."

"I'm really sorry." I say in a whisper, feeling sad about his words. I believe that yes, he felt affected by what happened, and just doesn't want to tell the truth to spare me the embarrassment and guilt. I have no idea how hard it must be to be comfortable in your own skin when other people do everything to make you feel like an aberration. Like the wrong one, like the one who isn't normal.

"You don't have to apologize so much." He smiles affectionately, with a rebellious strand of his hair falling in front of his eyes. "And you, Y/N? Have you never done anything crazy in your life? Your mom seems so controlling, that I was thinking while she was saying all that, how difficult it must be for you to be yourself."

"I never felt like doing anything rebellious until I met... well, until I met you." I smile, embarrassed. My cheeks turn red when he laughs mischievously in response.

"Almost fucking me in my apartment isn’t exactly a great act of rebellion." He shrugs and rolls his eyes, laughing. I grunt, increasingly embarrassed.

"That was definitely the craziest thing I've ever done in my life." I assure him. Being with him may seem like a little thing in his eyes, but for me, it isn't.

"Have you never thought about maybe, I don’t know, getting a tattoo? I think that would definitely kill your mom."

"I never thought about it." I laugh incredulously. I never even considered the possibility of doing something like that. "How did you decide to get your first tattoo? Did it have any meaning or was it more impulsive?"

"I got it when I was twenty. And it wasn't impulsive. I always thought about getting a tattoo, and when I left my parents' house, I gathered the courage and designed it." He laughs, and for the second time this night, I find him cute. "Actually, I got a new one yesterday. Do you want to see it?"

"Seriously?" I ask, a bit confused. We talked all day and he didn't mention it at all.

"Yeah, I had time last night." He explains, as if reading my mind. "Do you want me to show you?"

I nod my head in agreement, and he takes a leap to leave his balcony. I get startled, frightened, when he climbs through my window and enters my room. I don't know what to do; my breathing accelerates as he gets closer.

"Jungkook, you shouldn't be here!" I whisper, agitated, afraid that at any moment my mother will enter my room, and then go completely crazy.

"Calm down. It's all good." He rolls his eyes, teasing me.

"I'm being serious. You could have shown me your tattoo in your room." I argue nervously. "If my mom sees you here, I’ll never leave the house again."

"You're too stressed." He comments calmly, placing his hand on my shoulder unprotected by the thin straps of my shirt. I feel an immediate shiver down my spine, taking a step back quickly. No matter how long I spend with him, Jungkook still has that crazy effect on me that I can't control. "Sorry, I shouldn't have touched you."

"You don't need to apologize." I whisper, going back to my previous spot. He must have thought I was uncomfortable with his closeness, and that's far from being true. I miss his touches, and if I could, I would ask for more. "Can you show me what you did?"

"Yeah. Wait a second." He murmurs. His fingers go to his waist, and he pulls the fabric of his t-shirt up, raising it until the piece is in the palm of his hand. I swallow hard, looking at his body so close to mine. No matter how many times I've seen him like this, I'm still shocked at how handsome he is. All muscular, with pale skin adorned with tattoos. My eyes roam over his strong arms and go to his abdomen in a fine path of hair that follows inside his sweatpants.

"I got this clock yesterday. It represents the passage of time. How I have to give importance to the moments in life, whether they are good or not, because everything can end suddenly."

He points to his bicep, now covered by a plastic film, which protects the new ink. I raise my hand and touch the warm, soft skin, testing and exploring. He stays quiet, waiting for my inspection with patience and attention. I've never seen anything like it in my life. I smile, embarrassed, when I notice that wherever my fingers go, the hairs on his body stand up and prickle. I say nothing, absorbed and hypnotized.

"It's beautiful." I confess just for his ears. He turns to me and looks into my eyes.

"I really wanted to show you this. I missed you. Did you miss me?" He asks suddenly, in a serious way. And he certainly has no idea how much. During these two days, with all our messages, I've never felt so alive. I missed him in an inexplicable way that he can't even imagine.

"A lot." I reply, shaking my head, red. "Jungkook, can I tell you the truth?"

He just nods and makes a noise with his throat, agreeing. I swallow hard once more and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself.

"I want you." I say in a whisper, like a secret. He smiles at the corner of his lips, never taking his eyes off mine. "I want you so much that I don't even recognize myself. It's like I can finally be me. I've never felt this way."

"Do you remember that night?" Jungkook raises his hand and caresses the top of my cheek with his thumb, in a tender gesture.

"You know I do. Of everything." I say. His pupils dilate, and his face becomes more serious. He takes a step forward until his chest touches mine, and we are completely glued to each other.

"I've wanted you immensely since that day." He confesses, and I can feel the sincerity in his raw words. "I want you so much that I'm about to go crazy... I don't want to deny myself when I know you want me too."

"I don't want you to deny yourself." I reply. And it's the truth. I close my eyes and feel his lips pressed intensely against mine. The cold piercing makes me shiver all over when I touch him.

I let out a sigh amidst the desire and grab his hair between my fingers, pulling hard, not measuring the pain he might feel because I know he likes it. His soft, low moan proves that to me. I smile through the kiss and slide my tongue into his mouth, playing with his, feeling his massage mine. His hands go to the back of my thighs, pulling me with such force that I need the support of his shoulders to remain standing. I wrap my legs around his waist, accidentally feeling his hard cock pressed against my intimacy. It's overwhelming, in such a way that a groan escapes from the back of my throat.

His lips detach from mine, and his dark eyes lock onto my irises. I feel ecstatic, almost in a parallel world, seeing only his red, wet, and swollen mouth from our kisses. And I can't stop. I feel so good, almost as if I had denied myself a vice that I am only now getting to taste again. I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my mouth closer to his ear, smiling when I notice his skin prickle one more time because of me.

"Take me to bed, please." I ask softly, not thinking about the consequences. I nibble on his earlobe and plant wet kisses along his neck, sucking and tasting the flavor of his skin; the little spots I like so much turning even redder and more marked. He lets out a deeper moan and lays me on the bed, settling between my legs.

"You just have to ask me to stop." He says in a hoarse voice, looking me up and down. He sweeps his newly cut hair back, illuminated by the moonlight.

"You know how far I can go." I assure him, my cheeks flushed. He smiles, and almost immediately kisses me again. And I love kissing him. I've never had much experience, having little to compare, but I don't need that to know it's really good. More than good, it's wonderful.

I start to feel what I've only felt with him, lust, eating away from the inside out. I drag my hands over his warm arms, where I now know his new tattoo is, and pull his body closer to mine, feeling his abdomen, his heat, and his desire, all at once. The sweatpants aren't very effective at hiding his excitement, and I take advantage of that for my own benefit, rubbing against him, finding relief and pleasure that, without wanting to admit, I've missed so much.

I moan low, wet and excited, yearning for more. Jungkook suddenly pulls back a bit and releases me from the mattress. He grips the end of my shirt and slowly pulls it up my body. His eyes darken as my breasts are revealed. My first impulse is to cover my nipples, illuminated by the dim light, but his lips graze my jaw and his warm breath hits my collarbone, making me so eager that I can't worry about anything else. My entire skin tingles when he uses his tongue and licks my neck.

Jungkook lets out a little smirk, pauses, and looks at me, watching my reactions closely as his index and thumb go to my areola; I moan again, feeling my nipple swell when he squeezes it tightly, causing a pleasurable ache that sends shocks and waves of pleasure to my intimacy. I'm so wet that I feel my panties soaked, the cotton fabric sticky with my lubrication. His teeth dig into my breast, and his tongue wraps around my nipple, circling and swirling. To avoid any noise, I concentrate on keeping my lips pressed together, almost to the point of not being able to breathe. Jungkook grumbles and releases me, moaning as if he enjoys it as much as I do, and he returns to kissing me.

"You’re so tasty..." He groans, as if my pleasure were his. "I could eat you all day long."

"J-Jungkook... let me touch you." I implore in a whisper, breathless.

"Touch me." He commands, straightforward.

With the idea of making him feel everything I'm going through, I slide my hand down his gray sweatpants. I find, still over his underwear, his hard and thick member. Jungkook hisses and closes his eyes, but doesn't stop sucking me, digging his teeth into my flesh and causing a hickey that I know will take days to disappear. I become more confident when I feel how excited he is, all heavy in my palm. I lower the fabric of his pants to where my hands can reach, and when I can't anymore, I use my feet, wrapping my legs around his waist.

His navy blue underwear slips down his thighs until his cock finally springs free, hitting the end of his abdomen. The tip is all slick, red, and the veins make it appear even more aggressive, all manly and virile. It's crazy how, even not knowing much what to do, I don't feel intimidated seeing him this way. I just want to touch him. To have him.

"I want to touch you..." I whisper, wrapping my fingers around his member; my heart racing in my chest. My face burns with embarrassment, but I don't stop. "Teach me?"

"What do you want to do?" He questions, closing his eyes. His head tilts back when I accidentally touch his balls, and I squeeze him a little harder. "Shit, I might come just from that."

"I don't want to do things that way." I stop my caresses. He stares at me, frowning. I bite my lip a little shyly, but I'm determined to explain my desire. "I want- I want to kiss you down there, I just don’t... I don’t know how to do it. I wanted to do the same thing you did to me that time."

"It's all good." He smiles slightly, calming me down; he grips my waist tightly and continues, "Are you sure? I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"You're not pressuring me." I say firmly. And he's not. In the end, all the choices I made so far regarding him were based solely on my desires, never Jungkook's. I like that. It's one of the first times in my life that I'm the one choosing what to do or not. He nods, seeing that I'm confident, and opens the button of my skirt, parting my legs to fit his body better against mine. My panties remain, a light pink cotton that I know is nothing sexy, but apparently doesn't bother him. The fabric is stained with my wetness, from how turned on I am. I watch eagerly as his hand approaches, and his thumb touches my clit through the fabric, stroking up and down, in slow, deliberate circles, taking his time. I roll my eyes in ecstasy, and if I hadn't been so eager to make him come, I would let him continue.

My hole pulses when I pull his finger away, yearning for the peak, but I focus on him and his pleasure. I get up from the bed and pat the mattress for him to lie down. He obediently complies, unashamed of his nudity. I stare at him, amazed at how handsome he is, muscular and at the same time, with an angelic aura.

I lean in closer to his face and watch as he closes his eyes, waiting for a kiss, his long, thick eyelashes brushing against his cheeks as he realizes my mouth is heading for his neck. I tenderly kiss a little mole on his collarbone and another near his jaw. He sighs but says nothing, remaining quiet. I lower my mouth, licking his skin and breathing in his scent, which is fragrant and pleasant.

"Hold my cock." He whispers in my ear, pleading. "Have you ever done that?"

"No." I shake my head, embarrassed. He just smiles and takes my hand. He spits in my palm and grips my wrist, spreading the saliva over his shaft. I watch mesmerized as a vein seems to pulse at the back of the tip. I stroke it once, testing to see how he reacts to the caress. He seems to enjoy it, gripping the sheet of my bed and closing his eyes. "Is it good?"

"Y-yeah." His voice falters as he answers. I smile with pride, deciding to increase the speed just a little, using my thumb at the opening and spreading the pre-cum to make things flow more smoothly. My mouth waters when a drop of his desire starts to ooze from the tip, and I mentally wonder if I'm strange for wanting to taste it.

"How do I do it?" I ask, not stopping. I kiss his jaw and wait for his response. He clears his throat and looks at me with dilated pupils.

"The only thing you have to avoid is your teeth. There's no secret; just never bite." He explains calmly, as if teaching me anatomy. I nod and say nothing more, focused on protecting my teeth and not hurting him in any way.

I slide down my body to the end of the bed and position myself over him, closer to his cock. It looks bigger now, up close. More powerful and voluminous. I stroke it, twisting my wrist and testing it with my tongue first, tasting the salty flavor of his pleasure. It's not bad, actually, so I try again, licking the tip and feeling his flavor get stronger in my mouth. Jungkook moans louder, tilting his head back onto my pillow. He doesn't close his eyes, however, observing closely my inspection of his body. I start to feel more confident and in a spur of the moment, I suck his cockhead, swirling my tongue and caressing the pink skin, as if it were a lollipop. I groan, lowering my head a bit more, returning to the surface to take a deeper breath.

"Shit..." Jungkook grits his teeth, moaning. "There's no way this is your first time."

"It’s the truth." I say, smiling. I'm glad he's enjoying it, even with my inexperience. I caress his thigh and kiss it before diving my mouth back onto him once again. He disappears inside, filling the back of my throat. He doesn't fit all the way inside me, and I don't push too hard, using my hand on the rest and following my sucking.

I use my tongue, circling and stroking that thick vein that runs along his shaft. Suddenly, Jungkook pulls his hand away from the blanket and reaches for my nape, holding my hair. I watch his reactions closely, like when he moans softly, or when he swallows hard before closing his eyes and cursing softly. I notice his chest stops moving, and Jungkook holds his breath as I go deeper. I realize he wants to go harder, to grip me more firmly, but he restrains himself for some reason. I pull his fingers to my scalp, encouraging him.

"You can hold me tighter." I pull his cock from my mouth, wiping some saliva that starts to drip down my chin.

"If I hold you, I won't be able to stop."

"And who said I want you to stop?"

"Y/N..." He tries to say something, but I interrupt him.

"Do whatever you want with me." I say suddenly, surprising both him and myself. He smiles wickedly, as if my consent had triggered something inside him. I return to his cock and suck it, this time hungrier, going up and down its long length.

His hand returns to my nape, his fingers entangled in my hair, and without hesitation, he pushes my head down forcefully, roughly and dominantly. I choke on his shaft but don't stop, excited that the pain I feel in my scalp is directly affecting my pussy. I'm literally dripping, sucking him off without stopping, without wanting to separate. His flavor fills my palate and I love it.

"You’re such a slut..." I hear him curse, almost unconsciously. I’m not offended, strangely. My canal clenchs, and more creamy lubrication flows from my entrance, dripping down my thighs just from hearing how he calls me. "Fuck, you like this, don’t you? You like sucking my cock with your mom in the same house?"

I remain silent, too busy enjoying his pleasure. I moan and try to nod, but his hand doesn't let me go, pushing me harder against his pubis. His pace quickens, and even though it's hard to keep up, I continue sloppyly, drooling.

"You must be so wet just because my cock is in your mouth." He chuckles, because he knows it's true; his firm hand is caressing my back down to my ass. He strokes my skin before slapping my buttocks hard. I choke, afraid my mother will hear us, but he doesn’t stop, and neither do I. My head is so clouded with pleasure that I can't think of anything else but him.

"Kook, cum for me... please." I plead; my eyes water. He grunts with a raspy voice and throws his head back. I use my tongue on the frenulum of his cock because I notice it's more sensitive there, and suck harder, almost ferociously. Jungkook moans and growls, and I know he's close. His face turns red, and his chest freezes, as if he no longer needs to breathe. He suddenly opens his eyes, biting his lips furiously.

"Open your mouth. You're going to swallow all my cum." He commands, without asking for permission, as if he knows I would give it anyway.

I keep going, not stopping; my lips hurt, and my jaw does too, but I really want to see him come and I keep that as my main goal. The first spurt goes straight to my throat, catching me off guard, until he fills my mouth with his cum, making me swallow it all at once, as he promised. I don't feel disgusted; on the contrary, I enjoy it so much that I clean him off completely, until the last drop of his pleasure, kissing his cock when he whimpers from sensitivity. I smile when he catches his breath and looks back at me, as if he's in the clouds, feeling light and tired.

"I'm drained..." He says softly and in a whiny tone. He seems like an innocent boy, not a man who just forced me to take all of him.

"You called me a slut." I comment, laughing a little. It's the first thing that comes to my mind when everything is over. I laugh even more, seeing his cheeks turn red, as if he felt more ashamed than I did about what happened.

"I'm not going to apologize. I saw that you liked it." Jungkook argues, laughing too. I nod in agreement. I didn't know I liked this kind of thing, but I do. I stroke his tattooed arm and give it a little kiss, addicted to touching him. "Lie down on the bed, I want to suck your pussy."

"Aren't you afraid my mother will show up?" I ask, but I obey, lying down on the bed. "I'm afraid she'll hear us both."

"Just ask me to stop...even though we both know you won't." He winks at me. My back hits the mattress when he presses his palm on my belly, and literally pulling my legs to the mattress, my thighs are spread wide apart. He takes my ankle, caresses it, and then puts it over his shoulders, bringing his face closer to my intimacy. I'm embarrassed, I won't lie, but I'm so horny that I can't wait for him to start.

"Please, Jungkook, touch me already." I say when he takes his time to caress my skin with his fingertips, without touching directly where I want it most.

"Don't be impatient." He laughs, oblivious to my desperation. I grunt, grumpy.

"Please..."

"Needy." He says ironically, mocking me, as if he hadn't suffered with me minutes before. His bright eyes turn to my pussy and he smiles, before kissing my crotch and caressing my skin. I try to laugh at the situation, but the truth is that it makes me even more excited. His fingers part my small lips and he licks from my entrance to my clitoris, closing his eyes and frowning, as if he were eating something and really enjoying the taste. "Fuck! You're so wet."

I don't say anything because I know it's the truth. I hold his hair lightly, giving him more freedom to caress me. I watch carefully as his lips surround my most sensitive bud, kissing and sucking my clit. His nose is all sticky with my lubrication, but he's not afraid to get dirty and sinks his tongue into my hole, driving me crazy and boiling. I feel him inside me, hot and wet, going in and out. I moan, covering my mouth to be as quiet as possible, but I don't know if I'm very successful and I don't care. I'm in heaven, with the delicious sensation of my pleasure and there's nothing in the world that can take me out of this trance.

He takes his tongue out of me, swallows my taste and brings his mouth closer to my clitoris once more. I have to remove a lock of his hair in front of his eyes to see him better, feeling the tips of his fingers exploring my channel. I relax my body and wait for the penetration, watching with concentration as the flesh separates to accommodate him inside me. I sway my hips, feeling the sensation of being filled to the limit in my intimacy. I imagine what it would feel like if it were his cock, much bigger and thicker.

"Is it here?" Jungkook asks, looking at me carefully, curling his fingers upwards in search of that spongy spot that had driven me crazy last time.

"A little deeper, Kook…" I instruct, knowing he is close. My intimacy contracts instantly when he finds it, massaging and caressing my pleasure point with intensity. "R-right there… keep going, please."

And he continues. His fingers go in and out again, more vehemently. He sucks me as he picks up the pace and penetrates me, in a long and intense thrust. Out and in, fast and strong. I moan louder this time, unable to help myself, guiding his lips back to my clitoris. His nose feels good in contact with my slit, adding to all the delicious sensations at the bottom of my belly. His fingers are long but painless, using the moisture of my pleasure around my entrance and making them wetter, before erupting again. I know I'm going to cum, I remember everything I felt that night with him and I know I'm very close.

"Oh my God...! I'm going to cum!"

"Don't cum." He orders, raising his head, but doesn't slow down. His arm moves in time, massaging my clit with his thumb.

"I-I can't." I choke, at my limit. My heart races and my legs tremble, almost on the edge, falling and diving at my peak, when Jungkook suddenly stops. My eyes fill with tears and my throat closes. My imminent pleasure begins to cool, until it goes away all at once. I hold my nipple and contort my body trying to make it come back, but it's impossible. "Why Jungkook? I was... I was so close."

"I know." He laughs mercilessly, kissing my belly. He sucks his fingers wet with my lubrication and puts them inside me again. He easily finds my pleasure spot, even more sensitive and delicate because of the denial of orgasm. I try to close my legs but he stops me and wraps my ankles around his shoulders again. "You'll thank me when we're done." He doesn't wait for an answer and goes back to sucking and licking on my clitoris sloppyly, swollen from the loss of climax.

My intimacy is very sensitive, his touches twice as intense. I relax my body and trust my pleasure to Jungkook, holding onto his hair and waiting expectantly for the warm feeling in my stomach to return. And it comes fast, stronger. He seems to know my body very well, better than I do, so I concentrate and don't think about anything else, emptying my mind. I sigh and close my eyes, unable to face the image of him crouching in front of me, focused on giving me everything. It's too much for me.

My clitoris becomes the main object of his caresses and although they are not strong, they are intense and deep. He knows exactly what he's doing. "Jungkook! Fuck..." I moan breathlessly. I pull and pinch my nipple hard, pulling myself away from the bed. My back is soaked in sweat, my body is so hot. I grunt, feeling something strange in my intimacy. It's different from other times, a desire to pee that Jungkook's fingers only incite. I sigh and grind my waist, rubbing my clit against his mouth, my orgasm and the hot sensation growing stronger. "Kook... Stop. There's something strange."

"Trust me, Y/N." He whispers, looking into my eyes. "Relax that pussy and cum really good, love."

I roll my eyes and writhe on the bed. My heart races and my breathing catches. The most delicious and hot sensation releases itself inside me and I fall onto the mattress, my arms weak. Jungkook doesn't stop at all and sticks his fingers deep inside, massaging my sticky inner walls. It's the longest orgasm I've ever had, as if it never ends. I bite my hand, trying not to scream, but it's very difficult. I'm literally on another planet. My whole body trembles and a sob escapes my throat. Only then do I realize that I'm crying, this experience is so intense and incredible for me. With my free hand, I push Jungkook away a little, feeling pain from the sensitivity. I need a few good minutes to recover, taking a deep breath and relaxing my muscles. When I look down, with my eyelids closed and weak, I'm shocked to notice the wet sheets and his chest damp from my pleasure. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out.

"How are you?" Jungkook asks, gently lowering my legs. He picks up my shirt thrown between the covers and cleans himself, with a smile.

"Did I pee on you?" my eyes widen, moving from side to side to avoid looking at him. I hear him laugh, before he holds my chin and caresses my cheek.

"You squirted. It's not pee." He explains, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. His thumb touches my cheekbone, wiping away my tears. "You cried. It was the most delicious and exciting thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Did I pee on you?" I ask again, just to confirm. He laughs, throwing his head back.

"No, I swear. That's never happened to you?"

"No, never. I already told you... My first orgasms were with you." I only feel embarrassed and realize what I said when he smiles at me, laying his chest on top of my breasts.

"Have you never touched yourself?" he asks curiously, playing with my nipple to make it swell. It's strange because I can see in his eyes that he's moving my body, at least for now, without malice, as if he's touching me without ulterior motives. I frown at his action but decide to be permissive, fingering his scalp, blowing on the dark strands wet with sweat. We urgently need a shower.

"I've tried," I confess, finding it easier to say this when his eyes aren't on me. "But I've never felt the way I feel when I'm with you."

"After we were together..." He begins, lifting his face, watching my reactions. "Have you ever tried to touch yourself while thinking about me?"

"You'll never know," I reply, laughing. He pouts his lips but nods, as if he agrees even though he's sulking.

"Okay, I'll accept you not answering me on one condition," he says mysteriously. His finger plays with his eyebrow piercing before he continues. "The next time we meet, you'll touch yourself in front of me."

"You're kidding, right?" My eyes widen. My whole body tenses at his suggestion, a little scared. Does anyone do something like that? It's such an intimate thing and touching yourself in front of someone... I never imagined something like that.

"Say yes. You won't regret it. I even have a surprise for you when we meet."

"You're not serious."

"I'm serious all the time, woman." He teases, pulling my nipple hard. I groan in surprise, hitting his arm. I start laughing along with him, laughing out loud, when I hear a noise at my bedroom door, as if someone outside was trying to open it.

My heart races and my body immediately trembles. For a while, I completely forgot where I was. I didn't even remember my mother's existence or the possibility of her ever showing up.

"Y/N, open this door now." My mother says from the other side. I feel a little calmer because she seems irritated, but not crazy, as she would be if she knew who was with me in my room. I jump out of bed, feeling my legs weak from the powerful orgasm, but with adrenaline running through my veins. I look at Jungkook putting on his shirt and searching for his clothes in the middle of the mess. I stare at him, trying to know what to do, but he seems more focused on organizing my room than helping me.

"I'm coming, mom... I'm working out!" I shout, putting on my shirt. I gesture for Jungkook to leave my room through the window, but he points down, showing his penis swinging from side to side, practically naked without his underwear. I start to laugh nervously, afraid that my mother will catch us at any moment. Holy shit! "Wait a little longer!"

I gesture again for him to leave, and quickly throw his clothes on, putting on my skirt that was thrown under the bed. He laughs and before jumping out my window, he takes a few steps back and turns to me. His forehead touches mine and his bright eyes fix on mine. My heart beats faster and I feel butterflies in my stomach. I know that my nervousness, at this moment, is not for my mother. He kisses me, a quick and simple peck, before going to his balcony, waving one last time and turning off the light in his room. I close my window, waking up from my daydreams and opening the door to my mother, who looks irritated.

"What took you so long?" She asks, putting her hands on her hips. I cover my room with my arms and walk to the bathroom.

"I told you, I was working out." I repeat, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My entire body is wet with sweat, and I avoid her proximity as much as possible, knowing that I smell of sex and men's perfume.

"I didn't know you worked out." She narrows her eyes.

"Yeah." I shrug, smiling forcedly. "Why did you come to call me?"

"I'm going to have a work trip tomorrow, in Seoul. I'll be away for a few days, so I need you to take care of the bazaar for me this week."

"Okay." I quickly agree, opening the bathroom door. "Is that all?"

"Yes, that was all. Good night." She walks away coldly, entering her own room.

I sigh in relief and lock the door, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is a mess, tangled and full of knots. My mind returns to normal and I have to sit on the toilet lid to breathe a little. I laugh in disbelief and shake my head in disbelief. What just happened?

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ttipa @joonwater @ane102

[eulogium-red]

i'd like to see more of the theme of "family" in overwatch. we see it a lot with ana & fareeha, ram & zen, brig/torb/rein/bastion, genji & hanzo. but those are the obvious ones between playable characters. the ones that are much more clearly written on the wall, even once-in-a-blue-moon players could pick up on. much else is hardly focused on despite how much family (or a lack thereof) has shaped many of the character's lives & identities for better or for worse

i don't like how martina & the unnamed reyes kid are only mentioned in passing, despite gabriel himself visiting often unannounced. clearly they were an important part of his life. clearly, family is an important part of his life — i'm very willing to wager that small passage about the death of his parents in declassified was written very intentionally. his complicated relationship with death, and how it was further affected by his own "death," & how he's now in some warped reversed position with his new family. but we don't get much more than a few voice lines about martina (is she even mentioned by name in-game orrr am i not remembering?)

i want to see how ashe manages the gang throughout the second omnic crisis. or perhaps we could see her mannerisms slightly change with bob. maybe instead of standing side-by-side with him as she is in the reunion cinematic, she puts herself more between him & potential unrealised threats. or maybe she subtly tries to nudge him under awnings whenever she spots ufos, weary they're housing subjugators — little things that are very intentional. maybe her demeanor tilts ever so slightly from confident but guarded, to guarded but confident.

i want to get a better picture of the role sam english played in fareeha's life just from playing the game, especially after ana's presumed death. i want to know more about their relationship other than the christmas dinner they had. i wonder how many players just assume fareeha's father died young, or assume the writers didn't care to write one at all? for a long time, i thought the former. i wonder what sam thinks of some of fareeha's closest friends — has he met cole & angela? what does he think of helix? we hardly even see fareeha's native heritage expressed other than the two skins off the top of my head

what about cassidy & echo? i know this is a more implied one, but cassidy was the first one to nurture her "childlike intelligence." even today, he guides her — he encouraged her to help winston&co at paris when he was still on the fence. one of the cutest things for me is her enthusiastically shouting "hello winston!" mid-battle, presumably not long after cassidy told her to say hi. she probably would've either way, but i also don't want to discredit the role cassidy has had on her development & i really do want to see more of them

or, speak of the devil, how winston views everyone at overwatch as family. how in watchpoint: gibraltar's 1st defense spawn, you can see the little beds he set up for lena and mei, how you can read an email as proof he got the blankets from a small kids blanket business. the way he keeps photos of the gang, years later. how vehemently protective he was of all their locations. i wish we could see it reciprocated a little more, i wish we could see individual sleeping areas for other heroes as the story progresses, or more items on his desk. & that's not even getting into hammond

& i don't think i can have a family post without mentioning dad 76 or how i desperately want to see benicio being the best supportive dad for lúcio more but honestly i'm getting pretty sleepy so either i'll add more later or someone can add more.

depending how you stretch the definition of family here, it can include other dynamics too. baptiste finding a new sense of belonging in the new overwatch, or mei braving the antarctic to not let her team's death go in vain & to help people who can still be helped — from jiayi and her team still on mars, to the people who now need her help on earth. i'd also argue hana's squad in korea. what are niran's siblings up to? are we gonna see more of efi & orisa? moreover, how are all these non-playable side character characters handling the invasion? i guess we got some texts between lena and emily

family is such a powerful motivator, but can also be really complicated, as seen with the amaris and shimadas + kiriko, i wish we got a similar amount of investment some other places too

a major theme of overwatch is moving towards the future, progressing in some way. & that looks different for everyone depending on their emotional readiness to do that, and what they view "progression" as. so it makes sense a lot of characters don't look back on those they lost along the way so much, at least not too openly (zarya comes to mind), but that's what can make their present relationships with others that much more worth preserving & seeing

probably an impossible ask of a game feeling the effects of layoffs that's primarily focused on pvp/bp/shop items but ykn

thank u for coming to my tedtalk

[deerspherestudios]

Hey! I just recently met and went through the demo of "Mushroom Oasis", and I already have so many questions! I hope I won't be too intrusive. You may not answer some questions if the answers contain spoilers.

Questions about the game: 1.Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way? It's just that when I started the game, I named the cat after my cat and it was a little funny to me when the pronoun of the cat was "she" when my cat is male.

Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Questions about Michael:

Does he see the world like an ordinary person? I mean he has 2 pairs of eyes and 3 pairs of pupils. And it baffles me.

If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. That is, I saw that he had a broom, thread and knitting needles. Where did he get them???

If Mychael saw me (I'm 164 cm tall and I have red hair), would he think I'm some kind of witch, because of the color of my hair, or something like that? How would he react if he saw me?

And sorry for the mistakes, I used google translator. English is not my native language :( I also want to say that I am your fan from Latvia (I don’t know why I’m saying this, I just want to please you with the fact that you have a fan from the Baltic countries)

Oop!! Ty for the questions!! Let me try and answer em under the cut, since it might end up as a pretty long post hahaha. But hi hello!!! I'm always happy to know where my fans come from, it's always a surprise for me to see people around the globe enjoy my silly little game ;v;

Questions about the game:

1. Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way?

Being nonbinary, I just choose not to mention pronouns when writing for the game, so anyone can fit in their shoes. Unless it comes to a point where I have to use it, I'll probably code in a pronoun tool but for now it doesn't seem necessary! As for the cat, that's a good suggestion. Perhaps I'll try coding it in for the next update so the cat can be male or female, according to player preference!

2. Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Probably not, as I'm not really good at setting that up in Ren'Py. I did make an MC design though! But what they look like is entirely up to you. I've drawn a POV shot of them wearing jeans and sneakers but that's about it. They can look however you like!

Questions about Mychael:

1. Does he see the world like an ordinary person?

He does! Trigger warning for unsettling iris images if you wanna look this up, but his bottom pair is kinda what people with polycoria has. Except it's normal for him, and not really a condition. His vision is normal, he just has lotsa peepers.

2. If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

Yes? He didn't save you just to have you running off into danger again. He'd absolutely track you down and find you.

3. How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

He knows about it, but not enough to really understand how it works! He finds it fascinating humans decorate their bodies with shiny beads and jewels, and turn their skin into tapestries for art. He'd probably assume you can take them off any time and that the tattoos are drawn onto the skin.

I don't imagine he'd want a piercing, but he'd probably try a tattoo! (Until he realizes it's ink going under the skin, in which case he might change his mind haha)

4. I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. Where did he get them???

He has his ways ::-)

5. How would he react if he saw me?

He wouldn't be reacting much to how you look. You're not the first human he's seen! He's been around plenty of them, but you'd be one of the few he's interacted with the longest. And that's what makes you stand out more than anything else.

Phew that was a big ask!! But thank you for the interest :-D!! Hope everything's good in Latvia!

[alilixx]

Lisa Cuddy X Lawyer Reader (WLW)

NSFW SOMETIMES

First of all, I just want to apologize for any misunderstandings or mistakes. I’m not from America or England, so the laws and conventions are different, etc and english isn't my native language so maybe the translate can't be that good but i did my best. I hope you still enjoy the fanfiction! Okay, so for those who might not understand, the message above was BEFORE I started writing. I’m adding a few things after finishing; I might write a sequel? I’m mostly going to sleep now because I spent my night and day finishing this fanfiction only to end up disappointed. I’m sorry, it’s been over five years since I last wrote a fanfiction, so I’ve lost some of my touch, but I hope you’ll like it. If you have any feedback, please feel free to share it, whether it’s positive or negative, but please do so respectfully! My next fanfictions will be about Hugh Laurie X Reader and then James Wilson X Reader! I won’t say anything more, but I promise to improve for the future. Alilixx

︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀︿﹀

A few hours after your lunch break, the phone at your office will ring. Your next client hadn't arrived yet, so what was the harm in answering? None, despite the number being strange, you were convinced you recognized it, but from where? After a few seconds of thinking, no answer would come to mind, so you pressed the button to pick up. The voice on the other end seemed familiar until everything clicked. House. A raspy voice on the phone you unfortunately knew quite well greeted you. Politeness would have dictated a "Hello" or something like that, but you didn't. He wasn't stupid; he knew why you weren't responding. Years without speaking after an argument, he didn't expect you to be very friendly with him, not after what he did.

"Listen Y/N, I know you didn't want to hear from me anymore, but I have a problem. I need a… favor, a service from you. I've caused more trouble for Cuddy and unfortunately, I don't have the money for lawyer fees, and neither does Cuddy. I don't want to lose my job, so just this once, help me."

After a few seconds of thinking, you shook your head before sighing and asking one of the last questions of this call, or so you hoped.

"I finish in two hours, stay at the hospital. I'll come after."

You would just hear a simple "Thanks" with what seemed like a smile from House. House smiling? Impossible, you hung up as your client arrived. Another divorce case, people sure get married way too often only to end up giving money to the other after the hate stage. You closed your client's file before grabbing your jacket and keys to head to the hospital, even though you'd rather be in a trial than go there. But seeing House asking for a favor was exceptional. After a good ten minutes, you arrived at the hospital. The reception didn't say anything as you passed by. Apparently, House had already warned people. Should you go to Cuddy's office or House's? After a few seconds of hesitation in the elevator, you decided to go to House's office, and no one was there. As if sending a message was complicated, you stepped back and knocked on Cuddy's office door. With her permission, you slightly opened the door to see several people inside. A woman was seated behind her desk, so Cuddy? The famous House and three other people, one of whom you didn't know, but the other two you did.

"Are you the police interrogating my clients, dear Lopez and Harper? I didn't know you had switched from lawyer to investigator. Unless I'm mistaken and you're doing this illegally? That would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

After turning around, the two lawyers who apparently had issues with House tried to come up with an excuse. The only response you gave them was a quick hand gesture towards the door behind you. They left, and you closed the door immediately. Cuddy got up to approach you, extending her hand to introduce herself, and you did the same. The person you didn't recognize smiled kindly at you, though you still couldn't place them.

"Can I know why they were here? I assume it has to do with House, but what did he do?"

Cuddy invited you to sit next to the unknown person, which you did. On the couch opposite were House and Cuddy. You quickly moved your head to see the name tag on the person's lab coat: "Wilson." Apparently, a very good friend of House. Cuddy cleared her throat to speak and crossed her left leg over the other.

"Dr. House… drugged someone to perform tests on them, even though they were healthy… at least nothing has shown up yet. The person contacted their lawyers to file a lawsuit against House."

You simply nodded, wondering why you agreed to this, just for a favor. You would have been better off sticking to divorces. You thought about how to defend this and opened a folder to read some documents. You thanked your education, which might potentially save him.

"I see, I understand the patient's perspective… The context is… unique. I must warn you there will likely be a conflict of interest, but I will remain neutral. It will probably be Judge Schultz, whom I know quite well, so there shouldn’t be any issues. However, the opposing side might use my past friendship with Dr. House as an argument, but that shouldn’t hold up given my reputation. We need the tests to be conclusive and show that the patient actually has something to better defend House. I’m not asking for a fake health report as that would just worsen the situation. I have about twelve strategies to defend House even if the tests aren't positive. So, if the tests are, House will get off with nothing but a fine."

Cuddy nodded while House didn’t seem to care at all, but you were used to that. This wasn’t the first time, and it would have surprised you if it were any different. You started writing down phrases on a sheet of paper before placing it on the small table between the four of you.

"I'll need you all to help fill in the details of my client's situation. Here's the first one: does the opposing side have any concrete evidence that House drugged them?"

Everyone looked at House, who tapped the floor with his cane before shaking his head.

"I don't think so. I used a very small dose so that it wouldn't show up when we ran the tests. So technically, no."

You crossed out the first line and moved on to the next. Thinking as you twirled the pen between your fingers, you crossed out the second phrase without even asking.

"I assume the person doesn't remember the events, so we can play on that. Implied consent… so lack of evidence and implied consent."

Were you as twisted as House for defending him this way? Probably. Was it worse because you were going to win? Probably that too, but it wasn't the time for a moral lesson, so you'd ponder the meaning of life later.

"I can try to use something else to strengthen our case, but it's a double-edged sword. I can argue absence of malicious intent, but… it's House. So, saying House didn't intend harm or that the tests were supposed to be beneficial or necessary in some way. The only problem is there are other ways to run tests, and I assume you already have a significant record for this kind of behavior. Plus, we need to contextualize the actions, and that will put House in the wrong. I don't think we should take that risk."

You crossed out another phrase; you were getting tired of this. Arguing about the patient's mental health but not providing extenuating circumstances for House because… it's House? As if he had no previous run-ins with the law, consent issues, and the problems that followed.

"We're going to play with the justice system and the opposing side, let me explain. I assume there hasn't been an investigation yet. Given the 'hidden' results, let's say, the police won't have anything, so we can play on that. So, 1-0. We can add that the patient has a grudge against House or just wants money given his status as a doctor, so trying to win a lawsuit brings in money. 2-0. And many other points considering legal loopholes and so on. So, we should win the case outright if House keeps a low profile and the results come back positive, proving the patient indeed has something, then House won't face anything except maybe a fine for 'saving a life'… I mean, he's not Superman either."

Cuddy nodded, looking thoughtful, while House seemed indifferent as usual. Wilson appeared both impressed and concerned, knowing House well enough to see the potential fallout. You continued jotting down notes, formulating a plan to navigate this complex case.

You closed your folder once more, placing the sheet inside, and looked at the others. It seemed you had lost Wilson in your explanation. Cuddy remained calm and simply nodded while House acted like his usual fool. You stood up, giving a quick wave of goodbye as you started to walk away from the trio, but you stopped at the door and turned around.

"I'm doing this for free, House, despite our past, but you must keep quiet during the trial. Otherwise, you're on your own. I'm not your mother."

Despite his jaw moving as if to speak, you left the hospital, running into Cameron. You didn't recognize her at first until she threw her arms around you. You gave her a gentle pat on the back. It had been since your cousin's passing that you had last seen her.

"Hey Cameron, how are you? You've aged!"

She gave you a light tap on the back, smiling and nodding. She explained that work was exhausting; after all, she worked for House. You understood completely, feeling the same after about an hour of saving his skin. She loved her job, as did House, but she prioritized her work, so she kept going. After about twenty minutes, you hugged her one last time before leaving, despite feeling someone watching you—probably House. You didn't care about his childish games; you just wanted to go home and rest. Your car was your best friend. Driving home with "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac playing, you couldn't quite pinpoint why you loved the song so much—perhaps because it was a collection of unfinished pieces by the band? After long questions about your own existence, you realized you were already home. Grabbing your things and unlocking the door felt like the longest task of your life. You didn't even have the patience to put your things away, so they ended up on the couch, allowing you to shower and collapse into bed.

Hours passed, and your eyelids grew heavier until you saw "9am" on your alarm clock. Had you really slept, or was it just a sleepless night without realizing it? You were exhausted, but work was calling. Your next hearing was Friday afternoon, and it was Tuesday morning—surely, a day off wouldn't kill anyone, especially after dealing with House. You turned off your alarm for the next few wake-ups and let your heavy head fall back on the pillow, falling asleep once more.

This time, it was around two in the afternoon. Unfortunately, you had to work on a case, so you went through your routine—shower, document review, meal, and a quick walk to stretch your legs. The evening markets were beautiful; you couldn't go often during the week, but why not this time? The argument that kept you there longer was the still-warm cup of hot chocolate in your right hand. The twinkling lights of the stalls and the spicy scents floated in the cool night air. The crowd was dense but cheerful, with laughter and conversations creating a warm symphony that almost warmed you as much as the chocolate you had just finished. You wandered between the stands, stopping here and there to admire the handmade crafts and local products. Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a stand of colorful jewelry. An elderly woman with white hair and sparkling eyes held a delicately crafted silver necklace.

"Good evening," she said, her voice as warm as her smile. "Looking for something special?"

You smiled back, feeling the stress of the day melting away in the vibrant atmosphere of the market. "Just browsing, but this necklace is beautiful. Did you make it yourself?"

"Yes, indeed," she replied, her eyes twinkling with pride. "Each piece tells a story. Would you like to hear about this one?"

You nodded, intrigued, as she began to tell the tale behind the necklace, her words weaving a tapestry of history and craftsmanship that made you appreciate the piece even more.

"Do you like it?" she asked, noticing your interest.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you replied, stepping closer.

"It's a unique piece, made with great care," the woman explained. "Every detail tells a story."

You took the necklace in your hands, feeling the reassuring weight of the silver and admiring the intricate patterns. It almost seemed to vibrate with a special energy, as if it contained an ancient secret. You wondered what story it held and why, the moment you saw it, you thought of the woman in the office with House and his friend.

"I'll take it," you declared, determined. The old woman smiled even more and wrapped the necklace in pretty tissue paper before handing it to you. You thanked her and continued your stroll, the necklace safely kept in your bag. As you walked on, you couldn't help but think back to the old woman's words. Every detail tells a story... But why did it make you think of Cuddy? Lost in your thoughts, you didn't immediately notice the familiar figure heading toward you.

It was only when you heard your name that you looked up, surprised to see Cameron with two of her friends. One was an African-American man, about 6 feet tall, with an athletic and slim build reflecting a disciplined and well-cared-for appearance. His features included a square jaw and high cheekbones, giving his face a serious and determined expression. His short, well-groomed black hair accentuated his professional and rigorous look. You noticed his dark brown eyes, often penetrating and expressive. The other man, standing to his right, was a Caucasian, of medium height, around 6 feet tall. He had a lean and athletic build, reflecting an active youth and attention to physical fitness. His facial features were finely chiseled with a square jaw and a straight nose. His light blue eyes were often seen as penetrating and expressive, conveying a mix of curiosity, compassion, and doubt. His blonde hair was neatly styled with a touch of deliberately tousled disorder, giving him a relaxed and approachable look. Cameron gave you a quick wave to come over, which you did, of course, shaking hands with her two friends. The African-American man was Eric Foreman, and the other man was Robert Chase, according to Cameron, her colleagues at work. Though they were very friendly, you remained cautious as they were associated with House, which was the opposite of you.

After the introductions, Cameron smiled warmly at you. "We were thinking of going for a drink. Would you like to join us?"

You hesitated for a moment, but the idea of a relaxing evening was appealing. "Sure, that sounds nice."

The four of you headed to a quaint café-restaurant nearby. The place was cozy, with dim lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. You took a seat at a table by the window, offering a beautiful view of the illuminated square. The conversation started off slowly, with polite exchanges about your respective days. Foreman talked about his interest in neurology, while Chase shared some amusing anecdotes from his time in Australia. Cameron, ever considerate, made sure you felt comfortable and included in the discussion.

Then, the topic inevitably shifted to House. "So, you work with House?" you asked, trying to hide your curiosity behind a polite smile.

Foreman and Chase exchanged a knowing glance. "Yeah, it’s… an experience, let’s say," Chase replied with a wry smile.

"That’s putting it mildly," Foreman added with a nod.

The evening continued in a lighter atmosphere. You shared laughs, stories, and moments of camaraderie. Gradually, you felt more at ease with them, realizing that despite their connections to House, they were passionate and dedicated professionals. As the night progressed, Cameron suggested taking a stroll through the markets before heading home.

"Let’s enjoy the evening a bit more, what do you think?"

You eagerly agreed, happy to extend this pleasant moment. Foreman and Chase joined in, and you found yourselves back among the sparkling lights and enchanting scents of the night markets. Maybe this chance meeting would mark the beginning of a new friendship, or even an unexpected collaboration. Either way, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future might bring, surrounded by these newfound allies.

After a delightful evening with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, you parted ways with your new friends and headed home. The night was well advanced, and the streets were calm, bathed in the soft glow of street lamps. The return journey allowed you to reflect on the evening and the people you had just met. Arriving home, you closed the door behind you and let out a long sigh of contentment. The warmth and comfort of your apartment enveloped you immediately. You kicked off your shoes and took off your jacket, neatly putting them away before heading to the kitchen. You made yourself a cup of chamomile tea, seeking to relax before bed. With your warm cup in hand, you made your way to the living room and settled on the couch. You took a moment to think about the evening, replaying each conversation and the impressions Foreman and Chase had left on you. They seemed like good people, despite their association with House. Perhaps they deserved a chance.

You placed the empty cup on the coffee table and got ready for bed. In your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes from the day into a comfortable nightshirt. Before sliding under the covers, you took out the necklace you had bought earlier at the market and examined it again. The old woman’s words still echoed in your mind: “Every detail tells a story.” As you observed the necklace in the soft light of your bedside lamp, you wondered what story it might tell. Perhaps this unique piece would hold a special meaning for you, a symbol of this unexpected evening and the new acquaintances you had made. You gently placed the necklace on your nightstand and turned off the lamp, slipping beneath the covers. As you closed your eyes, you felt strangely serene. The fatigue from the day and the soothing warmth of your bed enveloped you, and you drifted off to sleep, already dreaming of future adventures.

The next morning, you woke with the first rays of sunlight filtering through your bedroom curtains. You stretched out, still feeling the previous day's fatigue but also a newfound excitement for the day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you felt ready to tackle the new day. You took a moment to examine the necklace again on your nightstand. It seemed even more mysterious in the daylight. Though you were tempted to wear it, you remembered your decision to give it to Cuddy when the time was right. With a smile, you returned the necklace to its box and carefully placed it in a drawer.

As you left your house, you headed towards your workplace. The morning passed quickly with the usual tasks, client meetings, and paperwork. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The idea of seeing them again seemed increasingly appealing. At lunch break, you received a message from Cameron. She invited you to join the three of them for coffee after work. With a smile, you responded positively, excited about the prospect of getting to know these new people better.

After work, you made your way to the café where you were to meet Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. The place was cozy, with a warm and welcoming atmosphere. You found them seated at a table near the window, waving to you as you walked in. The conversation quickly picked up where you had left off the night before. You discussed various topics, from work challenges to personal hobbies. At one point, Foreman asked about your necklace.

"Oh, it was a spontaneous purchase at the market last night," you said with a smile. "The lady who sold it to me mentioned that every detail tells a story."

"That’s fascinating," Chase said, examining the necklace more closely. "Maybe we should try to uncover that story."

The idea sounded intriguing. "Why not?" you replied. "It could be an interesting activity."

After your coffee, you decided to take a short walk in the area, enjoying the evening’s mild weather. Along the way, you passed an antique shop. Cameron suggested you go inside, thinking the owner might know more about your necklace. Inside the shop, the atmosphere was imbued with old-world charm. The owner, an older man with round glasses, greeted you warmly. You showed him the necklace and explained how you had acquired it. He examined the piece carefully before looking up at you. "This necklace is indeed very special. It comes from an old collection, known for its connections to stories of healing."

You found it quite amusing that Cuddy had come to mind, but why did you think of her? The subject intrigued you more and more. “Really? What else can you tell us about it?”

The shopkeeper smiled and began to recount a fascinating story about the origin of the necklace, its former owners, and the legends surrounding it. You listened intently, mesmerized by the details and mysteries that this simple piece of jewelry seemed to contain. After leaving the shop, you found yourself with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, discussing the implications of what you had just learned. “I think this necklace might really appeal to Cuddy,” you said with a smile. “I want to give it to her, but I also want to make sure I understand its entire story.”

Cameron nodded. “That’s a lovely idea. And we’d be happy to help you uncover more.”

You smiled gently, touched by Cameron’s kindness. The evening ended on this note of camaraderie and shared enthusiasm. Back at home, you once again put away the necklace, promising yourself to continue exploring its secrets. You were now convinced that this piece of jewelry would play an important role, not only in your future relationship with Cuddy but also in your own adventure.

On Thursday morning, you woke up early, feeling the weight of a busy day ahead. After a quick shower and a light breakfast, you prepared to tackle the last-minute preparations for your client's trial scheduled for the next day. Before leaving your apartment, you took a moment to ensure that all the necessary documents were in order and neatly packed in your briefcase.

At the office, you greeted your colleagues and immediately immersed yourself in work. The morning passed swiftly with dossier reviews, phone calls, and meetings with your legal team. Your assistant brought you a strong coffee, knowing you would need all the energy you could get. Early in the afternoon, you decided to take a break and headed to your usual café, where you had met Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. They were scheduled to join you for a discussion and to help take your mind off the upcoming trial.

When they arrived, you ordered drinks and settled at a quiet table.

The conversation quickly shifted to your work and the upcoming trial. “You must be pretty stressed,” Foreman remarked, studying you closely.

“Yes, that’s the case,” you admitted. “But I’m ready.”

Chase smiled. “You’re one of the best. Your client is in good hands.”

Cameron added, “We’re here to support you. You’re going to do great.”

As the evening approached, you headed back home. After returning to the office, you spent the evening fine-tuning your arguments, reviewing testimonies, and ensuring that all evidence was in order. You felt the pressure mounting, but you were determined to give your all for your client. Around 10 p.m., you decided to go home to rest. You took a hot shower to unwind and made yourself a cup of herbal tea. Before going to bed, you took one last look at your trial notes, re-reading the key points to make sure everything was clear in your mind.

On Friday morning, you woke up with renewed determination. After a quick shower and breakfast, you headed to the courthouse. The atmosphere was tense, but you felt prepared.

At the courthouse, you met with your client and reassured them. “We’re ready. Trust me.”

The trial began, and you focused entirely on your arguments, presenting clear and compelling points. Hours passed in palpable tension, with every word and gesture carrying crucial importance. During breaks, you quickly checked your phone, receiving encouraging messages from Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. Their support gave you the strength to continue with confidence.

Finally, the moment of the verdict arrived. The jury retired to deliberate, and you spent this waiting period with your client, trying to reassure them despite your own stress. When the jury returned with their decision, you stood alongside your client to hear the verdict.

As the verdict was announced, a wave of relief and satisfaction washed over you. Your client was acquitted. You felt an immense sense of pride and gratitude for all the hard work accomplished. After thanking and congratulating your client, you left the courthouse with a sense of accomplishment.

In the evening, after meeting with a client following the verdict, the day had passed quietly. To celebrate, you sent a message to Cameron, Foreman, and Chase, inviting them to meet at the same café to share the good news. They arrived promptly, all smiles and ready to celebrate with you.

"Congratulations!" Cameron exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "You did it!"

Foreman and Chase also offered their congratulations, and you spent the evening chatting, laughing, and enjoying the moment of victory.As you were sitting at a table near the window, you noticed Wilson enter the café. Clearly, he was there for a break after a long day at the hospital. You waved at him, and he approached your table with a smile.

"Hey, everyone!" Wilson said as he approached. "Congratulations on the trial, I heard it went well."

"Thanks, Wilson. Yes, everything went really well," you replied with a smile, still floating on a cloud of victory, even though you didn’t know him very well.

"You did well to celebrate," Wilson added, addressing everyone. "I hope you’re all enjoying your evening."

After exchanging a few pleasantries and congratulations, Wilson left to pick up his coffee order. You resumed your conversation, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Wilson had heard about your success.

When you returned home late that evening, you took a moment to reflect on everything that had happened over the past few days. You knew that new adventures and challenges awaited you, but for now, you allowed yourself to savor this well-deserved victory. Before going to bed, you took a moment to unwind and enjoy the calm after the excitement of the day. You slipped into your bed, exhausted but happy, ready to face whatever the future held.

On Monday morning, back at the hospital, Wilson crossed paths with House in one of the corridors. House, as usual, seemed intrigued by something.

"So, you were at the café last night?" House asked, with an apparently nonchalant tone but with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Wilson nodded. "Yes, I ran into your team and your lawyer there. They were celebrating Y/N’s trial success."

House raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Interesting."

Wilson smiled at House’s evident interest. "You seem quite intrigued, House. Anything to say about it?"

House pretended not to be particularly interested, but he couldn't completely hide his curiosity. "I just wonder how she manages to juggle everything. Maybe there's something else driving her."

As you were heading to the break room for a well-deserved rest, you bumped into House. He looked at you with that enigmatic smile that was so characteristic of him.

"So, the great lawyer wins again," he said with a sarcastic tone, his piercing gaze fixed on you.

"It was a team effort, as always," you replied with a smile.

House shrugged, a mocking expression on his face. "Yeah, that's what they say. But maybe you just got lucky or you slipped under the desk."

You furrowed your brow slightly but maintained your composure. "Yes, luck always plays a role."

House looked at you for a moment, his smile turning into a smirk. "Or maybe your persuasive skills are just a façade. You should really thank your team more often."

You felt a flicker of irritation rise but kept your calm. "I know how to recognize my colleagues' work, House. Thanks for the advice."

House burst into a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sure you do. Everyone loves recognition, especially when they’re working for someone as... competent."

Before you could respond, House turned and walked away, his laughter echoing in the corridor. You stood there for a moment, contemplating the interaction. House had a way of hitting on the most sensitive points, and he seemed to enjoy testing your limits. You pushed the confrontation aside for now, thinking that you'd bring it up with Cuddy. As the hour came to return to work and finish your day, your thoughts refocused on your tasks.

Your morning had dragged on so much that it felt like the entire year was crammed into a single day, stretching it out as long as possible. Fortunately, after another two long hours, your lunch break finally arrived. You were exhausted and eager to see Cuddy. After finishing your urgent tasks, you made your way to Cuddy's office. With House's upcoming trial requiring your attention, you needed to meet with her to discuss the strategy and details of the case.

When you knocked on her door, Cuddy motioned for you to come in.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you?" Cuddy asked with a smile.

"Hi, Cuddy. I'm good, thanks. I wanted to discuss House's trial and see if we're all on the same page. I've just finished drafting all the arguments, possible responses, and so on. I'd like you to take a look," you said, taking a seat across from her.

Cuddy nodded. "Sure. I've prepared some additional documents that might be useful in the worst-case scenario."

You spent the next few hours reviewing the case details, strategizing, and discussing potential challenges ahead. Amidst the professional discussions, you briefly mentioned your recent encounter with House.

"Oh, he was particularly irritating today," you said with a smile. "He implied that my persuasive skills were just a façade and that I should thank my team more often, suggesting I used my feminine wiles to win."

Cuddy sighed. "House likes to push people's buttons, especially when he knows they've achieved something important. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just… House."

"I know," you replied. "But sometimes it’s really frustrating."

Cuddy smiled warmly. "You’re doing an excellent job. Don’t let his comments shake you."

After your meeting with Cuddy, you felt better prepared for House’s trial. You took the time to organize your files and review your preparations. Leaving the hospital, you felt confident and ready to face this new challenge, though a part of you remained apprehensive about what House might do during the trial.

When you got home, you took a moment to relax, appreciating the quiet of the evening. You knew the coming days would be intense, but you were ready for the challenge, buoyed by the support of your colleagues and friends. You found yourself reflecting on the afternoon meeting with Cuddy, her encouraging words echoing in your mind. You realized that you valued not only her professional support but also her personal presence. Perhaps she could become a good friend, although you knew she would never see you as more. Cameron was the only one who knew about your attraction to women, especially older ones, so you recognized Cuddy as your vulnerable spot.

On Saturday morning, an idea popped into your head. You remembered that Cuddy had a particular café she liked near the hospital. You decided to stop by and pick up her favorite coffee as a gesture of thanks for her support. Arriving at the café, you ordered two drinks and a pastry that you knew Cuddy liked. With the cups in hand, you headed towards the hospital, hoping that Cuddy would be in her office even on the weekend.

However, as you walked, you realized that giving the items directly to her might be too forward. An idea struck you, and you stopped by a flower shop to buy a bouquet. With the flowers in hand, you returned to the hospital and asked a nurse to deliver everything to Cuddy without mentioning your name. Fortunately, the nurse agreed and took care of your request.

When Cuddy received the coffee, pastry, and flowers, she immediately asked who had sent them. The nurse, respecting your wish for anonymity, provided a brief physical description. Cuddy quickly understood who the gesture was from, but it was too late for her to find you.

Back at home, you collapsed onto your bed, ready to enjoy the weekend. The days passed quietly with workouts, delicious meals, binge-watching shows, and a bit of work to stay on top of things. You felt relaxed and pleased to have made a thoughtful gesture for Cuddy. It was a step forward, and at worst, she might simply tell you she wasn’t interested in women. Unlike House, she wouldn’t insult or belittle people based on their feelings.

As you arrived at the hospital on Monday, your day off, you felt a mix of excitement and apprehension, curious about how Cuddy had reacted to your gesture. You took a deep breath before entering the building and headed towards your office. Shortly after arriving, you received a message from Cuddy asking you to join her in her office. Your heart raced as you made your way there, wondering what she would say.

Upon entering Cuddy's office, you found her sitting at her desk, a mysterious smile on her lips. She gestured for you to take a seat.

"Hello, Y/N. Thank you for the coffee and the flowers," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You felt a slight flush on your cheeks. "I just wanted to thank you for your support. It’s a small gesture to support House."

Cuddy nodded, still smiling. "It was very kind of you. I wasn’t expecting that."

You took a deep breath, feeling that now was the right moment to make the first move. "Cuddy, I’d really like us to spend more time together outside of work. Maybe dinner or something one evening?"

Cuddy looked at you, considering your proposal. "You know what? I’d like that. How about tonight, after work?"

A bright smile spread across your face, and you nodded enthusiastically. "That would be perfect. Thank you, Cuddy."

After your interaction, you left Cuddy’s office and saw Cameron waiting for you, looking slightly concerned. Since Cameron was the only one aware of your sexuality, you took the opportunity to explain the situation. She smiled warmly, congratulated you, and wished you good luck.

That evening, you met Cuddy at a cozy restaurant, the intimate and warm atmosphere fostering a deeper connection. You talked about everything and nothing, sharing anecdotes and laughter. The professional tension melted away, replaced by a natural camaraderie. At the end of the dinner, as you both walked to your cars, Cuddy turned to you, her eyes shining in the streetlamp light.

"This was really nice," she said softly. "I’m glad we did this."

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment and hope. "Me too. I’ve really enjoyed it."

As you parted ways, you felt a sense of optimism about where this might lead. You knew it was just the beginning, but it was a promising start.

"Thank you for the evening, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I had such a good time," Cuddy said softly, her smile warm and genuine.

You felt a pleasant warmth spread through your heart. "Me too, Cuddy. I’m really glad we did this."

There was a brief silence before, making a brave decision, she leaned in slightly and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Good night, Y/N."

She smiled at you, a tender glint in her eyes. "Good night, Cuddy. See you soon."

As she walked away, you were left momentarily stunned by her gesture. A kiss on the cheek? What was that supposed to mean? Was it just a friendly gesture or something more? You found yourself debating with your inner thoughts, trying to make sense of it. Frustrated with your own confusion, you decided to head to a nearby bar for a few drinks to clear your mind.

A few drinks turned into several, and by the time you stumbled back home, you were slightly tipsy. After a quick shower to wash away the remnants of the evening, you collapsed into bed. Despite your exhaustion, your mind replayed the evening over and over, unable to settle. The new level of your relationship with Cuddy had opened a door to unknown possibilities, and you were eager to see where it might lead.

The day of the trial arrived faster than expected. You knew it would be a challenging day, but with your recent experiences and the support of your colleagues, you felt prepared to face whatever lay ahead. As you entered the courtroom, you reminded yourself of the strength and confidence you had built over the past weeks. You could do this.

The courtroom was tense, but you focused on your preparations and the strategy you and Cuddy had developed. With each passing moment, you felt more centered and determined to deliver your best performance.

During a break in the trial, you caught a glimpse of Cuddy in the hallway. She gave you a reassuring nod, and you felt a surge of encouragement. Whatever the outcome, you knew you had given it your all.

The day of the trial arrived. Dr. Gregory House finds himself on trial for allegedly drugging a patient, Mr. Richard Moore, in order to have him undergo a series of medical tests without his consent. Although these tests ultimately revealed that Mr. Moore suffered from lupus, he claims to have no memory of the period during which the tests were performed, and he accuses House of having drugged and kidnapped him.

The trial began in a crowded courtroom, the case having attracted a lot of attention. The judge opened the proceedings, and the prosecution and defense attorneys presented their opening arguments. The prosecution attorney stood up and described in detail the charges brought against House, insisting on the psychological trauma suffered by Mr. Moore and the illegality of House's actions.

You stood up to present the defense arguments, immediately highlighting the lack of concrete evidence and the importance of the vital diagnosis obtained through the tests performed by House. You emphasized the absence of malicious intent and the life-saving nature of the intervention. Mr. Moore testified by describing his state of confusion and memory loss. He expressed his hatred towards House, claiming that he had been abducted and drugged against his will.

You began by sympathizing with Mr. Moore, acknowledging the pain and confusion he was experiencing. Then, you pointed out the inconsistencies in his account due to his fuzzy memory and highlighted the absence of tangible evidence. You asked him if he remembered specific moments when he might have been drugged, to which he answered negatively. House testified by explaining his actions from the medical point of view. He described the symptoms observed in Mr. Moore that had led him to suspect lupus and insisted that he had acted to save his life.

The prosecution attorney tried to show that House had exceeded his prerogatives, but you intervened regularly to object and protect House from biased questions. You had called several medical experts who confirmed that Mr. Moore's symptoms were consistent with lupus and that the early diagnosis had probably saved his life. They also explained that, without these tests, the lupus could have remained undiagnosed, putting Mr. Moore's life in serious danger. The prosecution attorney concluded by insisting on the lack of consent and the trauma experienced by Mr. Moore. He asked the jury to consider the violation of his client's rights.

You stood up for your closing argument, summarizing the key points: the lack of concrete evidence demonstrating that House had drugged Mr. Moore, Mr. Moore’s confusion and amnesia making his testimony unreliable, the absence of malicious intent on House's part, and finally, the vital importance of the lupus diagnosis obtained through the tests performed. You concluded by emphasizing that House had saved Mr. Moore's life and that his actions, although controversial, were guided by a legitimate medical concern.

After deliberations, the jury returned with a verdict. The judge spoke to announce the decision, "After examining the evidence and testimonies, the jury has concluded that the charges against Dr. Gregory House have not been proven beyond a reasonable doubt. Dr. House is therefore acquitted of all charges." Everyone was leaving, including House, Cuddy, Wilson, and yourself. You took the opportunity to step away from the crowd with them.

House turned to you with a smirk. "Well done, Y/N. I knew you'd rise to the occasion to defend the best doctor."

You felt relieved and proud of the work accomplished. "Thank you, House. Now, I hope you’ve learned your lesson and will be more careful in the future."

House shrugged. "We’ll see if I listened to the conversation."

You sighed, letting the stress go, satisfied with the outcome and ready to face the next challenges that House would present.

The month that followed was relatively pleasant. You had good times with Cameron and her friends, Foreman and Chase, outside of work. Evening outings, dinners, and lively conversations brought some joy to your routine. However, despite these good times, you felt a void every time you came home. Something was missing, a presence or a deeper connection. One evening, after yet another outing, you decided to take the bull by the horns. You invited Cameron to your place for a one-on-one discussion. Sitting in your living room, you revealed what you were feeling, hoping to find some clarity and perhaps some advice. To your surprise, Cameron began to smile and then to laugh softly. Intrigued and slightly puzzled by her reaction, you looked at her, searching for an explanation. "Why are you laughing?" you asked.

Cameron, still smiling, replied: "Don't worry, you'll understand in a few days. Trust me."

The next day, while you were immersed in your work at the office, your phone rang. On the other end of the line, a receptionist from a certain hospital where Cameron worked informed you that Dr. Lisa Cuddy wanted to see you. Intrigued and curious, you accepted the appointment, wondering what it could mean. On your way to the hospital, you decided to bring some coffees, one for yourself and one for Cuddy, hoping to create a relaxed atmosphere for your meeting.

Entering Cuddy's office, you were greeted by her professional yet warm smile. She thanked you for the coffee and invited you to sit down. After a few polite exchanges, she addressed the main topic of your meeting.

"Y/N, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come here," she began. "House is once again involved in trouble. I was impressed by your defense in his last trial, and I would like to offer you the opportunity to become his official attorney."

You were stunned by the proposal. Becoming House's permanent attorney meant constant responsibility and frequent challenges, but it was also a unique opportunity.

Cuddy, noticing your hesitation, added: "I understand that this is an important decision. You can continue to manage your practice and only come here when necessary."

After a moment of reflection, you realized that this offer might address the void you were feeling. Accepting this role would allow you to continue practicing law while staying connected to a stimulating and dynamic environment. With renewed determination, you looked up at Cuddy and nodded. "Okay, I accept. I will be House's official attorney."

Leaving the hospital that day, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had just taken a major turn in your career, a turn that not only brought you closer to professional challenges but also to people you were beginning to consider close friends.

The following month promised to be full of surprises and new adventures, and you were ready to face them with new determination. After accepting Cuddy's offer, you found yourself often thinking about her. These thoughts were not purely professional; you realized that your feelings went beyond mere admiration. However, accepting these feelings was not easy for you. You had never really embraced your sexuality, and the prospect of being attracted to a woman, especially a colleague, deeply troubled you.

One evening, after a long day at work, Cameron came to visit you. She had noticed your distress and wanted to help you gain some clarity. You both settled comfortably in your living room, a steaming cup of tea in hand.

"You seem preoccupied lately," she said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to confide in her about your suppressed feelings for Cuddy. Cameron listened attentively, without judgment, and reassured you with her soothing, calming voice.

"You know, Y/N, it's not easy to accept certain things about oneself," she began. "But your feelings are natural. It's not a matter of gender; it's about love and connection."

She then suggested an idea to help you open up further. "How about coming to a karaoke night with me? It might help take your mind off things and allow you to relax a bit."

What you didn’t know was that Cameron had a more elaborate plan in mind. She wanted to give you an opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a natural setting. After you agreed to the karaoke, she contacted Wilson to help set up an unexpected meeting.

"Wilson, I need your help," she said on the phone. "Can you invite Cuddy to a karaoke this weekend without telling her that Y/N will be there? I think it could help both of them."

Wilson, always eager to assist his friends, agreed enthusiastically. He knew how beneficial this meeting could be for both of you.

On Saturday evening, you prepared with a certain nervousness for the karaoke night. Cameron picked you up, and you both headed to the bar where the event was taking place. Upon entering, you were pleasantly surprised by the warm and relaxed atmosphere of the place. Meanwhile, Cuddy, persuaded by Wilson to come out for a pleasant evening, arrived shortly after you. She had no idea what awaited her.

As you sipped your drink and chatted with Cameron, you noticed Cuddy walking into the bar. Your heart leaped in your chest. You turned to Cameron, eyes wide. She gave you a knowing wink.

"Relax," she whispered. "Enjoy the evening."

Wilson approached Cuddy and explained that he had invited someone else she might find interesting. He discreetly pointed in your direction. Cuddy made her way over, a curious smile on her lips.

"Good evening, Y/N, Cameron," she said as she joined your table. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."

As the evening progressed, the songs played, laughter erupted, and the atmosphere became increasingly relaxed. You felt your barriers gradually melting away, encouraged by Cameron's reassuring presence and Cuddy's warm attention.

At one point, Cuddy suggested that you sing a duet. The song choice was a soft and melodic ballad, "Creep" by Radiohead, which brought you even closer together. As you sang side by side, you exchanged glances and smiles that spoke volumes. Of course, Cameron wouldn’t let this slip by and later made you sing "Tear You Apart" by She Wants Revenge. Even during the karaoke session, she noticed your lingering glances towards Cuddy during the chorus, which said a lot.

The karaoke night was a success. Thanks to Cameron and her ingenious plan, you had the opportunity to get closer to Cuddy in a relaxed and friendly setting. When you returned home that night, you felt more at peace with yourself and more confident about your feelings. Cameron had given you the push you needed to embrace who you were and what you felt. Now, you were ready to explore this new dimension of your life with greater serenity and openness, though you had to be cautious about House finding out. You weren’t ready yet to discuss this or face any potential insults from him.

The days following the karaoke night were marked by a subtle but significant change. Your interactions with Cuddy became more frequent, not only due to hospital legal matters but also through spontaneous moments of camaraderie. You were getting to know each other beyond the professional setting, and each conversation strengthened this budding connection. Each morning, you developed the habit of bringing Cuddy a coffee before starting your day, spending much more time at the hospital than at your office. It was a simple but meaningful gesture that quickly became a ritual for both of you. You often found yourselves in her office discussing current hospital affairs, but these moments also turned into opportunities to share personal anecdotes and enjoy each other's company.

One morning, while sipping her coffee, Cuddy gave you a grateful look. “You know, Y/N, these little moments of respite really make a difference in my day. It helps me forget that House is here and working for me.”

You smiled, touched by her words. “For me too, Lisa... Cuddy.”

Your exchanges weren’t limited to the morning coffees. Lunches also became an opportunity to get closer. Whether at the hospital cafeteria or in a small neighborhood restaurant, every shared meal strengthened your bond. You spent much less time with the trio, but it apparently didn’t bother them.

One day, while enjoying a salad at a sunny café, Cuddy asked you an unexpected question. “How did you decide to become a lawyer?” Surprised by the question but pleased by her interest, you shared your journey, including the impact of your cousin's death, the challenges you had overcome, and the motivations that led you to choose this career. Cuddy listened intently, her eyes expressing deep curiosity and sincere respect.

There were also times when your days extended beyond office hours. Sometimes, you would go for a drink after work, sharing moments of relaxation where professional concerns gave way to lighter and more intimate conversations. One evening, in particular, stood out. After a particularly stressful day, Cuddy suggested unwinding at a cocktail bar near the hospital. Sitting at the counter, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the events of the day fade with each sip of your drink.

“Sometimes, I wonder how you manage to stay so calm and composed, even though you’re very authoritative,” you said, observing Cuddy.

She chuckled softly. “It’s a façade, believe me. But having friends and moments like these really helps.”

As the weeks passed, you developed a relationship of mutual trust. Cuddy confided in you about the challenges of her position as hospital director, and you found in her a valuable listener for your own concerns. This dynamic of reciprocal support was new and comforting for you.

One afternoon, after returning from the courthouse, you found Cuddy sitting at her desk, visibly exhausted. Without a word, you took a seat across from her and pulled out a small box of chocolates you had bought with her in mind.

“For a little pick-me-up,” you said with a smile.

Cuddy looked up, clearly touched by your gesture. “You’re my savior, love. Thank you.”

The word “love” resonated within you like a gentle echo. You felt your cheeks flush slightly. This endearing nickname, filled with tenderness and affection, stirred feelings you had tried to suppress. Your heart quickened, and you suddenly became acutely aware of every small detail of the situation: the soft light in the office, Cuddy’s sincere gaze, and the pleasant warmth of the chocolates in your hands. Trying to control your emotions, you responded with a slightly trembling but sincere voice, “I… I’m glad you liked it, Lisa. You do so much for everyone here, it’s only natural for someone to take care of you too.”

Cuddy smiled and briefly took your hand, a simple yet deeply meaningful gesture. “Thank you, really.”

After this exchange, you spent the rest of the day in a state of deep reflection. This sweet nickname and Cuddy’s attention only reinforced the feelings you were beginning to understand and accept. You found yourself smiling for no apparent reason, replaying that moment over and over in your mind.

In the evening, you decided to talk to Cameron about what you had felt. She listened attentively, her gaze full of understanding.

"You see, Y/N," she said gently, "sometimes you just have to let things happen. Cuddy really values you, and it seems she’s starting to feel something for you too. There’s nothing wrong with exploring these feelings."

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness. "Yes, you're right. I suppose I just need to be patient and see how things develop."

In the following days, you continued to offer your support to Cuddy, and she did the same for you. Each exchange, each gesture of affection reinforced your bond. The nickname "love" became a kind of shared secret, a constant reminder of the growing affection between you.

In the end, you realized that these feelings, although unsettling at first, were a natural part of your life. And with Cameron’s support and the patience you were showing, you knew you were on the right path to building something beautiful and lasting with Cuddy. As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself eagerly anticipating each meeting with Cuddy. She had become more than just a colleague or client; she had become a cherished friend, and perhaps, something more.

For now, you allowed yourself to be carried along by this new adventure, savoring each moment and letting things evolve naturally. The future remained uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you felt ready to face it, with an open heart and a serene mind.

Everything was going well between you and Cuddy. The morning exchanges, the lunches, the moments of complicity were multiplying. You felt increasingly comfortable with your feelings, encouraged by Cameron’s advice and Cuddy’s kindness. But one day, an unexpected event was about to turn everything upside down. It was an ordinary day until an accident occurred in the hospital. A cart full of files toppled over in the hallway, and among the scattered papers, a personal note from Cuddy to you fell to the ground. House, passing by by chance, picked up the note before you could react. That evening, as you were finishing your day, you were intercepted by House in a deserted corridor. He had a smug grin plastered on his face and the note in hand.

“So, Y/N, having fun with Cuddy?” he started, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You felt your stomach knot. “Give me that, House. It’s none of your business.”

He waved the note in front of you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, but it becomes my business when you drag your romantic issues into MY hospital.”

House moved closer, his expression hardening. “Seriously, do you think she sees you as anything more than a distraction? A little toy to pass the time?” He snickered. “You’re pathetic, trailing around like a puppy craving attention.”

You felt anger rising in you, but also a chilling fear. “That’s not true, House. You don’t know anything.” He burst into laughter, a cold and cruel laugh. “Oh, I know more than you imagine. Cuddy’s playing with you, and you’re too stupid to realize it. You think she loves you?” His tone grew more venomous. “She keeps you around for her little emotional emergencies. She doesn’t need you; she doesn’t need anyone.”

House stepped back slightly, looking you up and down. “Seriously, do you think someone like you could interest her? She could have anyone, and she’d choose a pathetic, lost lawyer? You’re laughable.”

Each word felt like a punch. You wanted to defend yourself, but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Look at yourself,” House continued. “A poor girl seeking affection. You’re a walking failure, trash no one wants. And when Cuddy’s had enough of you, she’ll toss you away like an old rag.”

These words hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your eyes welling up with tears, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. Summoning all the courage you could muster, you took a step forward.

"You’re wrong, House. What Cuddy and I have is real. What you say doesn’t change that."

He looked you over for a moment, then shrugged indifferently. "Believe what you want. But remember my words when she dumps you."

House turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, emotions bubbling inside you.

You stood there, trembling with anger and pain, House’s cruel words echoing in your mind. But deep down, you knew you had to stay strong. No matter what he said, you had feelings for Cuddy and you had to fight for them. This brutal confrontation with House was just another hurdle to overcome, and with the support of Cuddy and Cameron, you knew you could get through it.

After the confrontation with House, you felt devastated and overwhelmed by emotions. You knew you couldn’t go home in this state. You headed up to the hospital roof, a quiet place where you could think and collect yourself. Sitting on a bench, you let the tears flow, recalling every venomous word House had said. You knew he had a talent for hitting where it hurt, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Doubts crept into your mind, shaking your confidence in yourself and in your relationship with Cuddy.

After a few minutes of solitude, you took out your phone and dialed Cameron’s number. She had always been a valuable support for you, and you knew she would find the right words to comfort you.

"Cameron, it’s Y/N. I need to talk. Can you come up to the roof of the hospital?" you said, your voice trembling.

“I'm coming right away,” she replied, her tone full of concern.

A few minutes later, Cameron arrived on the roof, her face showing deep worry. She sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

You told her everything, from the accident that allowed House to find the note to his cruel and hurtful remarks. Cameron listened attentively, her expression hardening as you spoke.

“House can be really mean sometimes,” she said finally. “But he doesn’t know anything about what you truly feel for Cuddy, or what Cuddy feels for you. Don’t let him tear you down.”

Cameron's words provided some comfort. She was right. House had no right to judge your relationship with Cuddy, and he knew nothing about what you shared. You felt a bit stronger, ready to face the situation with more clarity. Unfortunately, you decided not to tell Cuddy, not wanting to disturb her or seem strange. So you distanced yourself a bit until she came to see you, at which point you had no choice but to talk to her and explain EVERYTHING. You hoped that this conversation would further strengthen your bond. You took a deep breath and sat down across from her.

“I need to talk to you about something that happened a few days ago.”

You told her everything, from the accident with the files to the confrontation with House. Cuddy listened attentively, her expression growing more serious.

“House really crossed the line this time,” she said finally, anger evident in her voice. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, but next time, come to me about it.”

You nodded. “I don’t want to let his words affect us. I really care about you, Lisa.”

Cuddy smiled gently and took your hand in hers. "Me too, Y/N. Don’t let House make you doubt what we have."

The conversation with Cuddy gave you a renewed sense of determination. No matter what House said or did, you were resolved to fight for this relationship. With Cuddy and Cameron’s support, you knew you could overcome obstacles and continue building something beautiful and lasting.

In the following days, you felt stronger and more determined than ever. You continued to work hard, support Cuddy, and grow closer to her. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and you knew you were on the right path toward something truly special. The road ahead was still long, but with Cuddy by your side, you felt ready to face any challenges. You were determined not to let House’s cruel words bring you down and to keep moving forward, day by day.

Your relationship with Cuddy improved even more over the weeks. Conversations became more intimate, and shared moments grew more significant. During meetings and coffee breaks, you exchanged knowing glances that often spoke louder than words. Cuddy sometimes made thoughtful gestures, like bringing you your favorite coffee or carving out time in her busy schedule to chat. Cameron, true to her playful nature, never missed an opportunity to highlight these little moments. "So, did you have your daily tête-à-tête with Cuddy?" she would say with a mischievous wink. Each time, you would blush slightly, but you also appreciated these teases that made your feelings seem even more real and tangible.

One day, you found yourself confronting House in his office. The tension was palpable. House was particularly irritable that day, and you had heard about his ruthless behavior towards your patients, especially your cousin. Your cousin had come to the hospital with severe abdominal pain, and House, in a fit of personal anger and contempt, had delayed the necessary tests.

"You should behave better for someone who’s a total jerk. How could you let my cousin die without even trying to save him years ago just because you had a grudge against me?" you exploded, entering House’s office without knocking.

House looked up from his desk, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Oh, so you’re here to mourn poor patients? What a charitable person you are! You’re here to blame me? Maybe if your cousin hadn’t been so stupid, he’d still be alive."

Those words were the last straw. You felt a searing rage rise within you. "How dare you? You don’t even know what you’ve done. You were so consumed by your own anger and selfishness that you didn’t even take the time to treat him properly!"

House stood up from his chair, his face hardening. "Your cousin was a hopeless case anyway. Maybe if he hadn’t been so weak, he would have survived."

You clenched your fists, your voice trembling with fury and pain. "My cousin was Cameron’s husband!"

The words thundered through the room, and only after they left your mouth did you regret it; you had promised to keep that a secret. House froze for a few seconds, his eyes widening in shock. For once, he seemed unsettled, as if a brutal truth had just hit him in the face. At the same moment, Cameron was passing by House’s office. She had stopped, hearing the raised voices inside. When she heard your declaration, she carefully opened the door, her eyes shifting from you to House, a silent pain on her face.

House quickly regained his composure, though his tone was sharper than ever. "Oh, I see. So you’re here to whine because your cousin didn’t survive? Newsflash, Y/N, people die. This is a hospital, not a fairy tale."

Cameron entered the room, her face pale but determined. "House, that's enough."

He turned his gaze toward her, a cruel smile on his lips. "Oh, look who’s joining the party. Are you here to support your grieving cousin? It’s touching, but he’s not coming back after all these years."

You felt tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall, and the urge to punch him was overwhelming. "You’re a monster, House. You have no idea what it’s like to lose someone so close because you’re a lifeless jerk whom nobody likes."

House shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Loss is a part of life, sweetheart. Get used to it, because I don’t sleep with my boss for bonuses."

Seeing you raising your arm toward House in anger, Cameron stepped in, grabbing you by the arm. "Come on, Y/N, let’s get out of here. He doesn’t deserve you getting worked up like this."

You left House’s office, still trembling with rage and sadness. Cameron embraced you, offering the silent support you desperately needed. You moved away from that place of conflict, leaving House behind with his arrogance and insensitivity. This painful confrontation further strengthened your bond with Cameron. She understood your pain better than anyone and shared your anger toward House. Together, you found comfort in each other’s support, growing even closer through this difficult ordeal.

Even though Cameron continued to have feelings for House despite learning about his refusal to treat her husband’s case, you both relied on each other. That evening, reflecting on the confrontation, you realized how much you cared for Cuddy and Cameron. Their unconditional support was an anchor in the storm of your emotions, and despite House’s cruelty, you were surrounded by people who truly cared about you. You took a deep breath, determined to continue fighting for your loved ones, to overcome obstacles, and not to let House’s nastiness destroy you.

The days following that confrontation were emotionally charged. The tension between you and House was palpable, but you could always count on Cameron for support. Interactions with Cuddy became even more precious, her smiles and soothing words helping to ease the weight of your emotions. Your relationship with Cuddy was deepening. One afternoon, as you were working in your office, you received a message from her: "Need a coffee break? Join me in my office."

You smiled and headed to her office. When you arrived, you found her seated with two cups of coffee and a box of macarons. "I thought we might need these treats to get through the day," she said, handing you a cup. You chatted about various topics, sharing anecdotes and laughter. Cuddy seemed more relaxed in your company, and you realized that these moments had become essential to you.

One evening, after work, Cameron invited you over to her place to talk. Sitting on her couch with a glass of wine in hand, she brought up a sensitive subject. "You know,Y/N, I’ve noticed that you’re getting quite close to Cuddy. It’s wonderful to see that, but I sense something is holding you back."

You looked down, hesitant to admit your repressed feelings. "Cameron, I... I think I have feelings for her, but I don’t know how to handle them. I’ve never accepted being a lesbian."

Cameron looked at you with compassion. "There’s nothing wrong with being who you are. You deserve to be happy, and if Cuddy makes you happy, you should tell her. Take your time, but don’t let fear stop you from living fully." You simply nodded, and the evening continued at her place until you fell asleep in front of a movie with her.

After a long day at work, you decided to go to Cuddy’s office to discuss some important points related to a file. Upon entering her office, you found her organizing papers, her focus on the work in front of her. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the soft lighting in the office created a pleasant ambiance.

You lightly knocked on the door before entering. "Hi, Cuddy. I had a few questions regarding our file."

Cuddy looked up, a smile forming on her lips. "Ah, Y/N. I always wonder why important questions seem to come at the end of the day."

You smiled and placed the documents on her desk. "Maybe it’s to give you a chance to test your multitasking skills."

Cuddy pretended to look outraged. "Oh, I see. So now I’m expected to juggle medical emergencies and your questions. Why not throw in some cannonballs while we’re at it?"

You laughed, appreciating the light tone of the conversation. "Well, you’re the hospital director. I suppose juggling cannonballs is part of the job description."

Cuddy rolled her eyes with a smile. "I guess I haven’t received that manual yet. But seriously, what’s the issue with this file?"

You took a deep breath and decided to make a slightly bolder comment with a touch of humor. "Well, I just wanted to check if your problem-solving superpower is as effective outside of the office."

Cuddy leaned forward, her gaze amused. "Oh, really? And what would my superpower be, according to you?"

You tilted your head with a mischievous smile. "You know, the ability to handle crises and make things simpler even when they seem impossible. But I have to admit, you might also be a coffee superhero, considering how you’re always full of energy."

Cuddy burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Oh, you're incorrigible. But if you insist, I suppose I should also accept the compliments on my ability to make the perfect coffee."

You nodded with a knowing smile. "Absolutely. I’m ready to give you a 10 out of 10 for your caffeine skills, in addition to your management talents."

Cuddy gave you a playful look before picking up a coffee cup from her desk. "In that case, it looks like I’ll have to make you a special coffee to reward you for your praise."

You thanked Cuddy with a smile, and the conversation took on an even more relaxed and friendly tone. Moments of teasing like this were becoming increasingly common, strengthening the bond between you. With her humor and kindness, Cuddy had become a key pillar in your daily life, making even the busiest days more enjoyable. The discussion continued in a light-hearted manner, filled with laughter and friendly exchanges. You left Cuddy’s office with a sense of well-being, ready to face the rest of the day with a smile on your lips.

A few days after the heartfelt conversation in the office, you both had taken a day off together. Cuddy had used the opportunity to invite you to her home, away from the constraints of work and regular responsibilities. It had been a while since you had the chance to spend an evening together without thinking about your professional obligations.

As you entered Cuddy’s house, you immediately felt a warm and inviting atmosphere. The interior was impeccably decorated with personal touches, creating an ambiance of comfort and tranquility.

Cuddy greeted you with a sincere smile, her presence radiating a soothing warmth. "Welcome to my home, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. Make yourself comfortable; dinner is almost ready."

You settled at the table, where a homemade meal awaited you. The conversation during dinner was smooth and enjoyable, far removed from the usual work topics. You exchanged memories, funny anecdotes, and personal stories. Cuddy shared tales from her childhood, while you recounted amusing moments from your own life. Laughter filled the room, and the barriers between you seemed to dissolve with each passing moment.

Cuddy, in her role as the perfect host, was attentive and engaged. "Do you remember the time I tried to cook a meal for a birthday party, and everything ended up burning?" she asked, laughing.

You nodded with a smile. "Yes, I remember! I was there, and it was a complete disaster, but we had so much fun that night."

Once dinner was over and the dishes were put away, Cuddy suggested watching a movie. "I’ve heard that Die Hard is pretty good. What do you think?"

Your face lit up at the idea of watching a classic film. "Absolutely, I love that movie!"

Cuddy headed to the kitchen to prepare some popcorn, while you made yourself comfortable in the living room. She returned with a large bowl of popcorn and settled next to you on the couch. You both got cozy, and the relaxed atmosphere contrasted with the usual work tensions.

As you watched Die Hard, the film captured your attention with its thrilling action, suspense, and humor. Cuddy occasionally commented on the scenes, making amusing observations about the absurd situations and exaggerated characters.

"See that moment when he jumps through the windows?" she said with a laugh. "I’m sure we’ve all dreamed of doing that during a stressful day at work."

You burst into laughter, sharing her amusement. "Absolutely, and then there are always those moments where you wonder how they manage to avoid serious injuries."

You continued to comment on the movie, your rapport growing as the evening progressed. Laughter and playful banter made the night enjoyable and light-hearted, providing a welcome break from everyday concerns. When the film ended, you both remained on the couch for a while, discussing your favorite scenes and the funniest moments. The atmosphere was both relaxed and intimate, deepening the bond between you.

Cuddy got up to turn off the TV, then turned to you with a gentle smile. "I hope you had a good evening. I really enjoyed this time together."

You responded with sincerity. "I did too; it was a perfect evening. Thank you for inviting me."

She approached you softly and gave you a friendly hug. "I’m glad you came. I think we should do this more often."

You spent a little more time chatting before saying goodnight. As you left Cuddy’s house, you felt calm and happy, with a newfound appreciation for the growing connection between you. The evening had not only strengthened your bond but also deepened the budding feelings you had for each other. You sat in your car for a few minutes, reflecting on what you truly felt. The night had been perfect, but something crucial was missing for you to be completely at peace. Finally, you took a deep breath, got out of the car, and headed back to Cuddy’s door. As you rang the doorbell, you felt your heart race, each step bringing you closer to your truth. Cuddy answered, visibly surprised to see you return.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, her eyes showing both confusion and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "You know, Cuddy… Lisa, I can’t leave without telling you something important. I… I love you more than just as a friend. I have feelings for you."

Cuddy looked at you attentively, surprise evident in her eyes. "Oh… I…"

"It’s been almost a year since we’ve known each other, and I can’t let this chance slip by, even if I’m not completely sure about embracing being gay," you continued, your heart pounding. "I’m willing to risk being rejected by you. I love you, Lisa Cuddy."

Cuddy remained silent for a moment, her eyes searching yours with intensity. Her face softened slightly, but her eyes remained serious. "Y/N, I want to believe you. But you need to be honest with yourself and with me. Are you really ready to face your own feelings?"

She sighed softly and placed a comforting hand on your cheek, her touch bringing a soothing warmth. "I just want to protect you, Y/N. So, be careful… okay?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and concern at her understanding. "Thank you, Lisa, for understanding my feelings."

Cuddy looked at you intensely, her eyes betraying a depth of emotion. "Y/N, you know I care about you… more than you realize."

Before you could react or say anything further, Cuddy leaned in slowly and kissed you. The kiss was both tender and intense, filled with the feelings you had both been holding back. You stood there for a moment, surprised and motionless, before responding timidly. Your hands instinctively found their way around Cuddy's neck, while her lips were comforting and burning with passion.

The kiss deepened, Cuddy intensifying it with a tenderness and fervor that expressed everything she had wanted to say without words. The sensation was both familiar and new, awakening complex emotions within you. Sensing your hesitant yet sincere response, Cuddy continued the kiss, trying to convey all she had never been able to express aloud. When you finally separated, you were breathing slightly heavily, your eyes shining with confusion and desire. With her forehead resting against yours, Cuddy whispered softly, "Think carefully about what you want, Y/N. I will always be here for you."

You felt torn between the familiarity of the gesture and the novelty of the emotions it stirred within you. Cuddy had opened a door to a new dimension of your relationship, offering both comfort and upcoming challenges. As you gently parted from Cuddy, you left the door open for deeper reflection on what you truly wanted, all while appreciating the sincere affection and patience she was showing you.

After the emotional kiss with Cuddy, you lingered on her doorstep for a moment, your mind full of confusing thoughts and conflicting feelings. You felt both comforted and unsettled by the depth of affection Cuddy had expressed, and the intensity of the moment continued to resonate within you. Cuddy, with a reassuring gesture, allowed you the time to process what had just happened.

The following days were marked by intense introspection. You spent a lot of time reflecting on your feelings for Cuddy and what they meant for you. The nature of your emotions seemed increasingly clear, but you still had to face personal questions about your identity and desires. While respecting your space, Cuddy made efforts to remain available and open. She sent friendly messages to check in and suggested informal get-togethers to discuss anything but your recent exchanges. These moments were light-hearted, allowing you to feel at ease while exploring your own feelings.

Despite the emotional storm in your personal life, work continued. You remained focused on your tasks, but it was inevitable that the tension between you and Cuddy became a topic of discussion outside the professional sphere. Colleagues and friends, including Cameron, noticed the change in your way of working and interacting with Cuddy, but you preferred to keep the details private.

One day, as you were working in your office, absorbed in preparing a file, House burst in, his usual nonchalant demeanor hiding a mischievous curiosity.

"So, how's it going with Cuddy?" he asked with a false lightness, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You looked up, feeling a wave of discomfort. "I’d prefer not to talk about it, House."

House, unperturbed, continued. "Oh, I see. You're a bit smitten, aren't you? You know, there's something quite pathetic about desperately seeking approval."

Frustrated by his insinuations, you retorted, "And what does that have to do with you, House? Why are you so interested? You've never been able to maintain a decent relationship. So what do you really know about what I’m feeling?"

House, visibly amused by your reaction, crossed his arms and leaned slightly toward you. "Oh, I see. The truth bothers you. Maybe you need to remind yourself that you're nothing more than a mere pawn in the grand game of human emotions. And if you're looking for love advice, I might be the last person you should ask."

You felt a wave of anger rise within you, unable to endure his biting sarcasm. "You don’t know anything about me or what I’m feeling. Maybe you just enjoy playing the villain to feel superior. You don’t understand real emotions."

Despite his impassive appearance, House seemed slightly surprised by the intensity of your reaction. He took a step back, crossing his arms with a cynical smile still present on his face. "Oh, I see this touches you more than I thought."

He leaned in again, his eyes glinting with challenge. "Maybe I'm a bit too blunt for your taste. But don’t worry, I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to remind people that the world isn't a warm and comforting place, no matter what they’d like to believe."

The intensity of the confrontation began to wane. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the internal storm. "Listen, House, I don’t want to continue this discussion if it’s going nowhere. I’m just tired of these word games and constant sarcasm. Maybe we should just forget this conversation and move on."

Seeing that the argument wouldn’t lead to anything constructive, House nodded with a smirking yet slightly more conciliatory expression. "Alright, I see you want to end this game. We’ll forget it. After all, it’s your right. But keep in mind that truths are often hard to accept."

You left House’s office with a sense of relief mixed with fatigue. The confrontation had been draining, but it had brought to light emotions and thoughts that you had kept buried. As you exited the hospital, you tried to relax, reminding yourself that sometimes the best thing to do was to let go and not be carried away by provocations. In the days that followed, the tension between you and House gradually dissipated. Although the clash left a certain bitterness, you continued to work together professionally. House, while still sarcastic and abrasive, seemed less inclined to push things further after the confrontation. Cameron and Cuddy, noticing the change in your mood and the impact of the confrontation, showed their support. Cameron, always attentive, made sure you were doing okay and offered moments of comfort.

The following Monday, you were still affected by the confrontation with House. Even though the conflict had ended on a more conciliatory note, it had left emotional scars. However, the week started on a positive note with the constant support of Cameron and Cuddy. Seeing their kindness and attention brought you relief. Cameron, always concerned for your well-being, suggested joining her for an outing to take your mind off things. You spent a pleasant evening together, talking and laughing, which helped lighten your spirit.

The following days were dedicated to reconciliation with House. Although his mannerisms remained sarcastic and sometimes abrasive, he seemed to have toned down his aggression after your confrontation. You continued to work together, but the atmosphere was slightly less tense. House, while staying true to his usual style, no longer pushed the provocations as far as he had before. On your part, you focused on your work, striving to maintain a professional attitude despite past tensions.

On Friday evening, after a busy week, you found unexpected comfort in joining Cuddy for dinner. She had taken the time to prepare something special for the two of you, and the evening unfolded in a soothing atmosphere. You talked about everything and nothing, avoiding work topics and focusing on your relationship. Moments of laughter and sharing strengthened the bond between you, momentarily making you forget the week’s stresses.

The weekend brought a new opportunity to deepen your relationship with Cuddy. She suggested organizing a special activity for the two of you. It turned into a full day of exploring a local market, sampling delicious foods, and enjoying light-hearted moments. The activity allowed you to discover more about each other outside the professional context and to strengthen your connection. You spent time strolling, discussing your dreams and ambitions, and supporting each other in your respective projects. This day reinforced the idea that you could be not only professional partners but also companions in life.

On Sunday, after a relaxing weekend, you found a moment for a more serious conversation. Cuddy, aware of the depth of your feelings, expressed her desire to understand and clarify what you both wanted from your relationship. You discussed openly your expectations and fears. Cuddy, always attentive and caring, encouraged you to be honest with yourself and with her. You talked about the potential challenges you might face and how to overcome them together. This discussion strengthened your connection, allowing you to establish a solid foundation for your budding relationship.

When you returned to work the following Monday, the atmosphere between you was imbued with a new harmony. You had managed to move past the tensions of the previous week and establish a deeper connection. The mutual support and shared moments had clarified your feelings and allowed you to envision a future together with more serenity. Although work remained demanding and sometimes stressful, your interactions with Cuddy were now marked by a deeper understanding and growing camaraderie. You could work side by side with a sense of mutual support, which improved not only your personal relationship but also your professional effectiveness.

The initial tension had dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual support that was felt in every aspect of your life.

One Friday evening, after a particularly grueling day at the hospital, Cuddy invited you to her home for dinner. You had started spending more time together outside of work, but that evening had a special significance. Upon entering her house, you immediately noticed the warm and welcoming atmosphere she had created. The table was beautifully set, and the delicious smell of a homemade meal filled the air.

"I wanted tonight to be special," she said with a smile. "We’ve been through a lot lately, and I think it’s time to talk about what we really feel."

You nodded, feeling your heart race at the thought of this important conversation. You sat down at the table, sharing a delicious meal while discussing your lives, hopes, and dreams. The atmosphere was relaxed, and simply being in Cuddy’s presence made you feel at home.

After dinner, you settled on the couch with a glass of wine. Cuddy looked at you with an expression that was both tender and determined.

"Y/N, I care about you a lot. More than I realized at the beginning. And I think we should make our relationship official. Not just for us, but also for others."

You remained silent for a moment, letting her words resonate within you. You knew it was the right time to be honest and open your heart. "Lisa, I feel the same way. You've become an essential part of my life, and I want everyone to know how much you mean to me."

Cuddy smiled, visibly moved by your words. She took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Then let's do it. Let's be together, officially. No matter what others think, we know what we want."

The following Monday, you decided to go public with your relationship. Arriving at the hospital, you both felt nervous but determined. Cuddy, as the hospital director, took the initiative to make the announcement during the weekly staff meeting. "Good morning, everyone. Before we start the meeting, I’d like to share some personal news. Y/N and I are together."

There was a moment of silence, followed by murmurs among the staff. Then, Cameron was the first to stand up and applaud, soon followed by other colleagues. Even House, though surprised, gave a wry smile, acknowledging the strength of your decision.

The person you thought least likely to be understanding spoke up. "Well, it was about time something interesting happened around here. Congratulations, you two." Cuddy looked at House after his words, wondering how much Vicodin he had taken, but he simply shrugged before leaving.

With the announcement of your relationship, you felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders. The reactions were mostly positive, and even those who were initially skeptical eventually accepted your love. Life at the hospital continued, but now you could be yourselves without fear or shame. The following days were marked by a constant stream of support from colleagues and friends. You received congratulatory messages, dinner invitations, and even small gestures from those who were happy for you.

One evening, as you held Cuddy's hand, you realized how much your life had changed since you had met her. The love you shared was not just a source of happiness, but also a force that pushed you to be better and face challenges together. You knew that obstacles would still arise, but as a couple, you were ready to overcome them. The official recognition of your relationship marked the beginning of a new era, where love, respect, and mutual understanding would be the foundations of your shared life.

After making your relationship official, the first few months were filled with moments of discovery and intimacy. You were getting to know each other on a more personal level, sharing quiet weekends, movie nights, and intimate dinners. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond.

To escape the hustle and bustle of the hospital, you enjoyed spending weekends at a small country house that Cuddy occasionally rented. These moments away from everything, surrounded by nature, were precious to both of you. They allowed you to relax and focus on each other, away from the demands of your daily lives.

She loved your sensitive parts, loved how you responded to the lightest touch with the most lustful moans, and how your skin prickled with goosebumps, a whine leaving your lips.

And then she kneeled on the floor, her palms caressing the bare skin of your legs, slow and light, until you could feel them on your thighs. "My love, lift your hips for me." You didn’t have to ask why because the moment you obliged, you felt her fingers hook the waistband of your shorts and pull them with ease.

Now exposed, you tried to bring your legs together to somehow conceal what was in between your thighs, but her strong hands parted them, a gasp falling from your lips. “Lisa.” You whispered, feeling the ache when her breath stroked the inside of your thighs. She was close, and you moaned. You had never been teased like this.

“Baby, please.”

“Keep it together, love.” It was cruel, but you knew she only meant you had to beg.

“Baby, I need you. Please.”

From where she kneeled, your center was vividly glistening, too aroused for her, and she took massive pleasure from how she could make you so wet without even touching you like you wanted her to. The thoughts were gone when you felt her weight dipping the bed again, and without preamble, you felt the tip of her tongue toying with the length of your slit, felt her hand directing your leg above her bare shoulder. She must have taken her robe off.

“Fuck!” you hissed, her lips wrapping around your clit, “Lisa...ahh—” it was a filthy, filthy moan that drove the woman crazy. “Baby—” your breath hitched, feeling her tongue enter your cunt. She had to keep hold of your hips from bucking, a tight grip that would bruise later.

Each movement of her tongue sent waves of pleasure through your body, your fingers tangling in her hair as she skillfully worked you. You could feel the pressure building, the need for release growing with each passing second. Her grip tightened, ensuring you stayed in place as she drove you closer to the edge.

“Lisa, please,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her response was to intensify her efforts, her tongue delving deeper, her lips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension coiling within you, ready to snap at any moment.

“Come for me, love,” she murmured against your skin, the vibration of her words sending you over the edge. Your body arched, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as the orgasm washed over you, waves of pure bliss radiating from your core.

She continued her ministrations, drawing out your pleasure until you were left trembling, spent and satisfied. Slowly, she withdrew, planting gentle kisses on your thighs as you came down from your high. Your breathing slowed, the aftershocks of pleasure leaving you in a state of contentment.

“Lisa,” you breathed, your voice filled with gratitude and affection.

She smiled up at you, her eyes warm and loving. “I love you,” she said simply, her hand caressing your cheek. You reached down, pulling her up to join you on the bed. “I love you too,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around her. In that moment, everything felt perfect, your connection deeper than ever before. As you lay there, holding each other, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

And it continued, except that her behavior changed over time. You never would have thought she was jealous until the day a nurse made advances toward you in front of her. You couldn't blame the nurse, as he was new and didn't know yet. That evening, however, she made it clear that you were HER'S.

This time, Lisa decided to take control completely. Her eyes were dark with desire as she commanded, "Strip."

Your hands trembled slightly as you removed your clothes, standing vulnerable before her. She watched every movement with an intensity that made you shiver. Once you were fully exposed, she guided you to the bed, her touch firm and authoritative.

"Lie down," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.

You obeyed, lying back on the bed as she climbed on top of you, her knees straddling your waist. Her eyes bored into yours, a smirk playing on her lips. "You belong to me tonight," she whispered, her voice sending shivers down your spine.

Without warning, she grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. The dominance in her actions made your breath hitch, your body responding instantly to her control. "Don't move unless I tell you to," she ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this," she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. "How much I’ve wanted to have you completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, the sound muffled by the intensity of your own desire. Lisa’s hands roamed over your body, her touch both gentle and commanding. She knew exactly where to touch, where to tease, and where to press to elicit the most desperate moans from you.

Her lips followed the path of her hands, kissing and nibbling at your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached your breasts, she paused, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" she asked, her fingers hovering just above your nipple.

"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. "Good," she said, finally lowering her mouth to take your nipple into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. The sensation made you arch your back, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

She continued to tease and torment you, her mouth and hands working in tandem to drive you wild. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she pulled back, her eyes locking onto yours. "I want to hear you beg for it," she said, her voice low and commanding.

"Please, Lisa," you moaned, your body aching with need. "I need you. Please."

A satisfied smile curved her lips as she finally moved lower, her fingers trailing down your abdomen to your thighs. She spread your legs wide, her eyes drinking in the sight of your arousal. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, her mouth was on you, her tongue lapping at your folds with an intensity that made you cry out. Her hands held your hips firmly in place, preventing you from bucking against her mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each flick of her tongue and each gentle bite.

She knew exactly how to push you to the edge, bringing you to the brink of orgasm before pulling back, leaving you gasping and trembling. "Not yet," she said, her voice a tantalizing tease. "I want you to beg for it."

"Please, Lisa," you pleaded, your voice desperate. "I need to come. Please."

Her response was to redouble her efforts, her mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you over the edge. When you finally came, it was with a cry of her name, your body writhing under her skilled touch. She didn’t stop until she had wrung every last bit of pleasure from you, leaving you spent and satisfied.

As you lay there, catching your breath, Lisa moved to lie beside you, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You did so well," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’re mine, remember that."

You nodded, a contented smile on your lips. "I'm yours," you whispered, your heart full of love and trust for the woman who held you so completely.

On day at the hospital could be particularly exhausting, but this Thursday felt different. Lisa Cuddy had received a box of chocolates from a grateful patient, and without suspecting their content, she had eaten several. A few hours later, she began to feel an intense heat and agitation that she hadn't anticipated.

Early in the afternoon, you were in her office discussing a current case. Cuddy, visibly uncomfortable, asked you to close the door behind you. "Y/N, I don't know what's happening, but I need your help," she murmured, her cheeks flushing under the aphrodisiac's effect. You approached her, concerned, but as soon as you were within reach, she grabbed your hand and pulled you toward her.

"Lisa, what are you doing?" you whispered, your heart pounding. She looked at you, her eyes shining with desire. "I… I can't wait any longer," she murmured, her fingers slowly unbuttoning your blouse. You let her, mesmerized by her urgency. Her lips found yours in a fervent kiss, her hands exploring your body with unchecked passion.

You found yourself seated on the edge of her desk, your clothes scattered around you. Cuddy, still in control, pulled a small device from her drawer. "Look at this," she said with a mischievous smile. She activated the remote-controlled vibrator and slipped it between your thighs, securing it in place with a strap. You shivered at the sensation, your muscles clenching involuntarily.

"Lisa, here? Now?" You couldn't believe what was happening. She nodded, her fingers pressing the remote. The vibrator began to hum softly, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

Cuddy stood before you, her gaze fixed on you with a devouring intensity. She increased the toy's power, and you felt yourself on the verge of losing control. "You like this, don't you?" she murmured, her fingers caressing your face. You could only nod, unable to form a coherent response.

She played with the settings, alternating between gentle vibrations and intense pulses, pushing you to the edge. Each change in rhythm brought you closer to ecstasy, and you found yourself silently begging for more release. Cuddy, seeing your state, lowered the remote to give you a moment of respite.

"Do you want to come for me, Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft but authoritative. "Yes, Lisa, please," you panted, your body trembling with anticipation. She smiled and increased the intensity again, finally pushing you over the edge. You felt yourself explode into a million fragments of pleasure, each wave of bliss overwhelming you.

Breathless and dizzy, you collapsed onto the desk, your limbs weak and trembling. Lisa turned off the vibrator and gently removed it, her hands caressing your soothed thighs. "You were wonderful," she murmured, placing a tender kiss on your lips. "Thank you for helping me."

As you caught your breath, you realized how much this experience had strengthened your connection. Though you had never imagined such a situation at work, you felt closer to Lisa than ever.

After that intense afternoon in Cuddy's office, life took on a new, exciting rhythm. You and Lisa navigated your relationship with a mix of professional decorum and private passion. The boundaries between work and personal life became more distinct, yet somehow more intertwined. The weeks following that day saw both of you finding a balance between your responsibilities at the hospital and your deepening relationship. Cuddy, always the consummate professional, ensured that your interactions at work remained appropriate. However, the stolen glances and subtle touches were enough to keep the flame of your relationship burning. Your evenings together became the highlight of your day. Cuddy's house transformed into a haven where you could both unwind and be yourselves. You shared dinners, cooked together, and enjoyed quiet nights in, watching movies or discussing your day. Cuddy's favorite moments were when you read to her, your voice soothing away the stress of her day.

Whenever you both could afford the time, you took weekends away from the city. Whether it was a secluded cabin in the mountains or a cozy beach house, these trips allowed you to connect on a deeper level. Away from the demands of the hospital, you explored each other’s interests and dreams, strengthening the bond between you. With each passing month, you found yourself opening up more about your past and your feelings. Lisa, too, shared stories of her journey, the struggles she faced as a woman in a high-powered position, and her fears and hopes. This mutual vulnerability brought you even closer.

At work, your dynamic remained strong and professional. Your colleagues respected your expertise and dedication, and House, despite his occasional barbs, seemed to accept your relationship with Cuddy. You often found yourself working closely with Lisa on difficult cases, your combined skills and insights making a formidable team. As your relationship grew, the question of moving in together naturally arose. After several months of discussing and planning, you decided it was time. The transition was smooth, a testament to how well you complemented each other. Lisa’s home became your home, and you both enjoyed creating a shared space filled with love and laughter.You often talked about the future, both personal and professional. Lisa’s support encouraged you to pursue further specialization in your field, and you, in turn, were her biggest cheerleader in her ongoing efforts to balance her career and personal life. You dreamed of more travel, maybe even adopting a pet, and continuing to build a life filled with shared goals and mutual respect.

Of course, there were challenges. Balancing two demanding careers and maintaining a relationship wasn’t always easy. There were times when stress from work would spill over into your personal life. But each challenge was met with patience and communication. Your ability to work through problems together only strengthened your relationship. Your relationship had a positive ripple effect on those around you. Cameron often commented on how happy you seemed, and even House, in his own way, acknowledged the stability you brought to Cuddy's life. The respect and affection you shared became a quiet inspiration to others in the hospital, showing that a loving, supportive partnership was possible even in the most demanding environments.

In the end, what you built together was a relationship based on trust, respect, and deep affection. Lisa Cuddy and you became each other’s confidant, lover, and partner in every sense of the word. Your journey was just beginning, but it was clear that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand.

Everything was going quite well until you decided to take a week off to focus entirely on Cuddy. The hospital was struggling, but you knew it would improve as usual. However, Cuddy, still stressed by the situation, was unaware that you had planned this time off specifically for her. That morning, as usual, you woke up early to prepare breakfast. Cuddy arrived, gave you a tender kiss, and told you she loved you before rushing off to eat, get ready, and go to work.

Shortly after her departure, you were distracted by knocks at your door. Maybe Cuddy had forgotten something? When you opened the door, you were surprised to see House standing there with his usual air of arrogance. You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t leave you alone. You let him in and turned back to continue tidying up the kitchen after breakfast.

House casually settled into a chair, his eyes gleaming with calculated interest. "So, how's it going with the manipulator?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm but also with undisguised curiosity.

You turned to look at him, exasperated by his early morning intrusion. "What do you want, House?" you replied, trying to keep your frustration in check as you continued with your chores.

"Just a little chat to pass the time," he said, shrugging. "I was wondering how things are going with the big boss. She must really be a master manipulator to get you to drop everything, even your job, for her."

You felt your anger rise sharply. "Cuddy isn’t manipulating me, House. I’m taking this time off to help her relax a bit. The hospital is going through a tough period, and she’s carrying all the weight on her shoulders."

House rolled his eyes with feigned exasperation. "Oh, of course. Poor Cuddy, tormented by her job. And you, the saint, there to save her every step of the way. Maybe she’s just using you for her emotional and professional needs. Maybe she sees you more as a temporary fix to her problems than as a real partner."

This remark made you boil with rage. "You don't know anything about our relationship, House. Cuddy and I support each other. What we have is real, and it's not something you could understand."

House leaned forward, his gaze becoming more incisive. "Maybe I don't understand. Or maybe I see things you're refusing to see. But be careful, because sometimes the people we trust the most are the ones who betray us the most."

You stared at him with determination, refusing to give in to his provocations. "Cuddy would never betray me. And I won’t let anyone, especially not you, come between us. I love her, and I hope she'll become my wife someday."

House raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed by your resolve. "Well, good luck with that," he said as he headed for the door. "Don't forget that I warned you." With those final words, he left, leaving you alone in the kitchen, your thoughts swirling in your head.

Shortly after his departure, you felt a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. You turned around to see Cuddy, who had forgotten her bag. She looked at you with a tender smile and gave you a light kiss. "I'll talk about this tonight," she said before kissing you again and walking away.

You stood there, alone, with mixed thoughts and emotions, waiting for the evening when Cuddy would return to discuss everything that had happened. After a particularly stressful workday for Cuddy, you prepared for an evening that would be both soothing and revealing. Having taken time off to focus on her, you had done everything to create a warm and intimate setting. The kitchen smelled of homemade dishes, candles created a soft glow, and light music floated in the air.

When Cuddy came home, you waited eagerly. She entered, visibly exhausted but happy to find a calm and comforting environment. As she dropped her bag and approached you, a tired smile lit up her face.

"Wow, you really went all out tonight," she said, taking in the ambiance you had carefully prepared. Her eyes settled on you with gratitude and affection. She pulled you into a hug, and you felt a wave of comfort as you held her close.

"I wanted it to be special," you replied softly. "For both of us."

You sat down at the table for dinner. The meal you had prepared was simple yet delicious, with dishes that seemed to bring a touch of warmth and comfort. As you ate, Cuddy talked about her day, the pressure she felt at work, and her concerns about the hospital. She shared her frustrations and worries, revealing how exhausted she was from the challenges she faced.

You listened attentively, offering words of comfort and showing sincere empathy for her difficulties. "It must be really hard to carry all that weight on your shoulders," you said. "But I'm here for you, and I want you to remember that we’re a team. If you want, I can even give you a massage."

After dinner, you settled on the couch, the atmosphere now imbued with tranquility and warmth. Cuddy snuggled against you, and you felt a deep connection growing between you. She took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

"You know, I’ve done a lot of thinking today," she said, her gaze drifting into yours. "And I realize how much I need you in my life. I don’t want misunderstandings or obstacles to come between us. What we have is precious to me."

You took her hand in yours, looking at her tenderly. "I feel the same way, Lisa. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make our relationship work. Even in the face of challenges, I’m confident that we can overcome them together."

Cuddy smiled, her eyes lighting up with sincerity. "I love you deeply, and I want us to remain honest with each other while supporting one another."

The conversation continued, filled with promises and commitments for the future. You discussed your hopes, fears, and dreams with renewed openness. Every word exchanged strengthened the bond between you, and you felt more confident in the solidity of your relationship.

By the end of the evening, as you settled in to relax, Cuddy snuggled against you. You spent the night in a sweet embrace, finding comfort and joy in each other's presence.

Finally, it was Friday, and you had planned a lot of activities for the weekend. The sun was beginning to set as Cuddy came home after a long day at work. You had spent the day preparing something special for her, hoping to offer her a moment of relaxation and relief from the tensions at the hospital. As you heard the front door open, your heart raced with anticipation of what you had planned for the evening.

Cuddy walked into the room, visibly tired but with a grateful smile upon seeing you. "Hi, honey," she said, approaching you for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Very good," you replied with a smile, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes. "I’ve prepared something special for you tonight. Will you follow me?"

Intrigued, Cuddy followed you to the bedroom, where you had transformed the space into a sanctuary of relaxation. Soft, soothing candlelight flickered around the room, and a subtle lavender scent floated in the air. On the bed, carefully arranged accessories awaited, signaling the BDSM session you had prepared.

Cuddy raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Oh, I see you’ve been very busy," she said, her voice tinged with curiosity and desire. "And what’s the special occasion for all this?"

You took a deep breath, determined to offer her this experience with all the love and respect you felt for her. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do, for your hard work and dedication. But more than that, I wanted to give you the chance to let go, to release all the stress you carry."

Cuddy looked at you with tenderness, touched by your gesture. "You’re really amazing," she murmured, before kissing you passionately. "I trust you to guide me tonight."

You began by gently blindfolding her, taking care to explain each step of the process. "I’m going to guide you through this experience. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just say the safe word, okay?"

Cuddy nodded, her breath already quickening in anticipation. "Okay," she murmured.

You began by gently securing her wrists to the bed with velvet cuffs, ensuring they were comfortable yet tight enough to restrict her movements. Then, you picked up a soft leather flogger and started to caress her skin with it, testing her reaction before delivering light strokes—enough to create a sensation but not excessive pain. Each stroke was followed by a kiss on the reddened skin, alternating between tenderness and firmness, creating a sensual dance between pain and pleasure. Cuddy moaned, getting lost in the sensations, her breathing becoming more erratic.

"You look so beautiful when you let go," you whispered in her ear before picking up a remote-controlled vibrator. "I’m going to keep playing with you, but I want you to tell me how you’re feeling at every moment."

Cuddy nodded, her voice trembling with desire. "I feel... alive. Keep going, please."

You turned on the vibrator, placing it gently between her legs before activating the vibrations. Cuddy’s body tensed, a moan escaping her lips. You alternated the intensities, playing with the rhythm to keep her excitement at its peak without letting her reach climax too quickly.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice low and sensual.

"Yes... yes, I like it," she responded between moans, her body trembling with pleasure.

The evening continued in a delicate dance of domination and submission, each gesture and word deepening the connection between you two. When you sensed she was ready, you increased the intensity of the vibrator, guiding Cuddy toward a powerful orgasm that left her breathless, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

You gently untied her, removed the blindfold, and held her in your arms, offering soothing words and gentle caresses. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered into her hair.

Cuddy looked at you with eyes still glazed with pleasure. "Thank you for this unforgettable moment. I feel so much better, so loved."

You remained entwined, savoring the softness of the moment and the depth of your connection, knowing that this experience had further strengthened your love and mutual trust.

You had booked a weekend at a luxury hotel with a spa, jacuzzi, and all the amenities for maximum relaxation. On Saturday morning, after Cuddy had woken up, you greeted her with a mischievous smile.

"Pack your bags, darling, after breakfast," you say, kissing her tenderly. "We're going away for a relaxing weekend."

Cuddy looks at you, surprised but delighted. "Oh really? Where are we going?"

"You'll see," you reply with a wink. "But get ready to be pampered."

After breakfast, you hit the road, leaving behind the worries of the hospital. Upon arriving at the hotel, Cuddy is awestruck by the beauty of the place. The entrance is grand, with lush gardens and soothing fountains. You check in quickly and head to your room, a luxurious suite with breathtaking views of the mountains.

"Wow, this is gorgeous," Cuddy murmurs, impressed. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Nothing is too good for you," you reply, hugging her. "Now, let's go enjoy the spa."

You change into fluffy robes and head down to the hotel spa. The atmosphere is serene, with soft music playing in the background and the subtle scent of lavender floating through the air. You start with a relaxing couples' massage, where expert hands work out all the tension from your bodies. The essential oils soothe your minds, and you both feel completely at ease.

After the massage, you head to the private jacuzzi. The warm water and bubbles soothe your tired muscles, adding to your relaxation. Cuddy settles against you, her head resting on your shoulder, a peaceful smile on her lips.

"This is exactly what I needed," she murmurs. "Thank you, darling."

"I knew you needed it," you reply, gently stroking her hair. "You work so hard. You deserve to unwind."

You spend a long time in the jacuzzi, enjoying the warmth and each other’s company. You chat about everything and nothing, letting the bubbles carry away your worries.

In the evening, you dine at the hotel restaurant, savoring a delicious meal paired with exquisite wines. Cuddy is radiant, her eyes shining with happiness and gratitude. "I couldn't be happier," she says, looking at you tenderly. "You make everything so special."

"Because you are special to me," you respond, raising your glass for a toast. "To us and many more moments like this."

The rest of the weekend continues in the same vein of relaxation and joy. You enjoy the pools, saunas, and long walks through the hotel gardens. You laugh, kiss, and take care of each other, further strengthening your bond.

Returning home, you both feel rejuvenated and ready to face the challenges ahead. Cuddy thanks you repeatedly for the perfect weekend, and you are happy to have given her this moment of peace and happiness.

“We should do this more often,” she says as she falls asleep in your arms on the first night back home.

“Yes, we should,” you murmur, a smile on your lips. “I love you, Lisa.”

“I love you too,” she replies softly, and with that, you both drift off to sleep, ready to face whatever the future holds together.

The last evening of your weekend unfolds in a peaceful, loving atmosphere. However, the return to reality looms, bringing with it the pressures and responsibilities you both face. On the evening of your last day off, the mood is slightly tense. Cuddy seems preoccupied, likely already thinking about the challenges awaiting her at the hospital.

As you have breakfast together, you try to reassure her. “You know, everything will be fine at the hospital. We have a great team, and we can handle it together.”

Cuddy gives a faint smile. “I know, but there’s so much to manage. The finances, the new projects, the daily issues. Sometimes it’s just… overwhelming.”

You understand her stress, but you also need to share your own concerns. “I understand, Lisa, but you also need to learn to delegate. You can’t do everything on your own.”

She looks at you, slightly irritated. “It’s easy for you to say. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under as the director.”

Your tone becomes firmer, feeling the injustice of her words. “I know very well what it’s like to work under pressure, Lisa. I’m here for you, but you also need to accept help.”

The rest of the morning is marked by growing tension. You prepare in silence for the return home, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and accumulated frustrations. During the drive back, you try to initiate some light conversation, but Cuddy responds with one-word answers, clearly still preoccupied.

Once home, the situation finally erupts. “Why can’t you understand that I need support, not criticism?” Cuddy exclaims as she enters the living room.

You turn to her, arms crossed. “I’m not criticizing you, Lisa. I’m trying to help. But you never let me in; you always want to control everything.”

"And you think you could do better?" she retorts, anger in her voice. "You have no idea what it's like to run a hospital."

"Maybe not, but I know what it’s like to manage a relationship," you reply, frustration rising. "And right now, you're not letting me be a part of your life the way I want to."

Cuddy remains silent for a moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, it's just… so hard. I'm afraid of losing everything."

You approach her, softening your tone. "We're a team, a couple, Lisa. You're not alone. I'm here, by your side, no matter what. But you have to let me help."

She nods, tears finally streaming down her face. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes, everything becomes too overwhelming."

You embrace her, feeling the tension start to ease a little. "We’ll get through this together, okay? But we need to communicate and support each other."

Cuddy nods, cuddling into you. "I promise to make an effort. Thank you for being here for me."

You spend the rest of the day calmly talking, reaffirming your commitment to each other.

After that intense argument and the subsequent reconciliation, you and Cuddy decided to take concrete steps to improve your relationship and lighten the load of responsibilities. True to her promise, Cuddy began delegating more tasks to her colleagues, learning to trust her team. She also agreed to attend therapy sessions to better manage her stress. On your side, you made an effort to be more present and create relaxation moments for both of you. Every weekend, you set aside time for activities together, whether it was a simple walk in the park, a romantic dinner, or a movie night at home. You discovered new shared passions and rekindled those you had neglected.

One evening, after a particularly successful day at the hospital, where the finances were finally starting to improve and a new project was underway, Cuddy came home with a radiant smile. You greeted her with a glass of wine and a carefully prepared dinner.

"I have a surprise for you," she said, her eyes sparkling with joy and mischief.

Intrigued, you followed her into the living room, where she had prepared an envelope adorned with a red ribbon. You opened it carefully, discovering two tickets to a dream destination you had always wanted to visit together.

"I think we deserve a well-earned vacation, this time with no stress and no obligations," she said with a smile.

The days leading up to your departure were filled with excitement and joyful preparations. You discussed everything you wanted to do and see, already imagining the memories you would create together. Upon arriving at your destination, you immersed yourselves in a tropical paradise, savoring every moment together. The days were filled with adventures and discoveries, while the evenings were reserved for moments of tenderness and intimacy. On your last evening, as you watched the sunset on the beach, Cuddy took your hand in hers.

"You know, this year has been tough, but it’s also taught me what truly matters," she said.

You nodded, feeling the emotion rise. "Yes, it’s taught us to support and love each other more deeply."

Cuddy smiled and pulled a small box from her pocket. Opening it, you discovered a beautiful ring. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Y/N?"

With tears in your eyes, you answered without hesitation. "Yes, Lisa, I will."

You kissed, your hearts beating as one, savoring this moment of pure happiness. You knew that the road ahead would still be long and filled with challenges, but together, you could overcome anything. Your love was stronger than ever, ready to face the future with hope and determination.

And so, hand in hand, you embarked on this new chapter of your life, with the certainty that nothing and no one could ever tear you apart. After this event, you understood why you had given the necklace to your wife. From the beginning, the clue had been right before your eyes—why you thought of her when you saw the pendant. The same color as her eyes.

[aromanticannibal]

yeah so if you genuinely don't know how to write an email instead of using chatgpt and getting something that 1: has a chance to just fucking suck (and potentially be noticeably AI) and 2: uses stolen content, ruins the environment and indicates to the gen-AI companies that you want more gen-AI bullshit that will steal things and ruin the environment, you can look up how to write an email or look up email examples. here's a website, here's another, here's the wikihow page (it's a bit shit but it does its job), here's a good one for formal emails, and here's an email I sent today (more examples under the cut):

something that's really annoying right now is that most websites are desperately trying to sell you their cool funky AI friend that can write the email for you, and look at me: you have to tell it to go fuck itself (in your head, don't use it). this isn't about you being a moron for not being about to write an email, I struggled with it for a while too, I still do sometimes, writing emails notoriously sucks. gen-AI sucks more.

also, this might not be the case for everyone, but please at least try to learn how to write the email before using chatgpt, it will help you forever. if you have a question about emails or if you're not sure how to write one specific email, you can send an ask: I'm not all-knowing but I'll do my best to help.

I can mostly help for college/high school levels and I am studying in a French school, so the codes may not be exactly the same, but I am in fact being taught by English speakers, sometimes native ones.

I'll give more general advice at the end, but here are a few examples of emails I would send.

If there's even a small chance of your teacher not recognizing you, write at the top something like "I am Name Last name, I am in your X-Y-Z class on Mondays from 8AM to 9AM". This isn't too useful in high school because your teachers likely know you, but in college your teachers might not. This will give them context.

Do your best to avoid typos or grammar errors. Reread your email, especially if the teacher is a language teacher.

Be polite, always, unless the teacher explicitly specified they don't care.

You do not need to beg for anything, don't debase yourself, and if a teacher makes you debase yourself, report them. You shouldn't have to beg for something that you ask for in an email. (so no more than one please per email, and avoid this one please if possible).

If it's possible and safe for you, prefer discussing important matters IRL.

Remember who you're talking to. Is the teacher strict or chill? Younger or older? Are they a white abled man or a Black disabled woman? Are they very into "respect the teacher!!" or do they put themselves at your level? Are you a 15 y/o high school student or a 20 something college student? Is this teacher familiar with you? Have they been understanding in the past? etc.

Generally, despite all my warnings above, a simple polite email will be fine with most teachers. If you're not sure how to identify the above possibilities or how to alter your emails depending on them, just write a formal, polite email (like seen above).

Some universities have online courses that teach you how to write emails. If there is a web-type course in your university and you can take it, take it.

Mine has one. I hate it. They defined a tweet as a "post on a blogging platform". I have to complete it or I don't pass. It still has a good tutorial for writing emails. You are lucky in the sense that emails are like the basic thing that even the boomer teachers know how to do (even if they don't like doing it), so there are a lot of resources for people who haven't written emails yet and need to learn.

If possible, ask your teacher at the start of the year what email to contact them with - if you're lucky, they'll say things about what kinds of emails they want.

If you're lucky still, someone else will send a shit email and the teacher will make a point during the class to remind how to write a proper email.

I put "Dear name" everywhere, but if it's not an extremely formal setting, some teachers will be fine with a "Hello". If you're not sure of the receiver's gender, use their title (Dr. etc).

For the extension: sometimes teachers aren't allowed to give you an extension or are assholes who don't want to give you an extension. In that case, don't bother writing another email (again: don't beg. + it will make them dislike you which you don't want).

This works more in work settings, but I read once that it's good to say "I will be taking a day off" rather than "May I take a day off/is it possible to take a day off". Just say that it's going to happen.

Know your rights. I can't know them for you. Figure out what the teacher can and cannot do through legal documents on your school's website or whatever. Know your rights depending on your state or country.

If you have a bad memory and don't want to have to look up how to write an email everytime, open your notes app or your blocknote or any preferred place to take notes and write down the important. I'd advise to note common greetings, subjects, opening and closing lines. Same for your teachers, if you need to remember which one is a bitch and which one is chill, write their name down with a description.

[hanni-3]

Sooo...

MARIANA INTRODUCTION TIME !! :33

I'll do a Lucas introduction as well but lesbian first

-*———*-

Let's starts with the basics shall we? ; At 10 years old Mariana Martinez moved to Puerto Rico all the way to Golden Grove. The move was....something. Travelling to somewhere to a completely different continent, with a different language, different culture— just everything is different.

At least she has her Mama with her, despite not having the best relationship with each other, deep down Mariana really cares for her mama. She just has hard time expressing it.

In step 1, Mariana is a cis girl from all the way to step 4 and doesn't really care what pronous you use "You guys are obsessed, She..He..They. I don't care." she says

-Originally when I made her ; They were a transgender boy but I scraped it (and made another one that I'll introduce later cough cough)

Mariana isn't afraid to tell the truth, she's very blunt and so horribly honest. ex : Random "Hey! What do you think of my new hat?"

Mariana "It sucks."

So..yeah.. And because of this ; back in Puerto Rico she did not have that many friends. Some parents complained to Opal about it even but guess what? Mariana still doesn't care and continues on being 'mean'.

Fun fact while we're at it : Mariana has a bit of an accent in step 1, but by the time passes they manage to cover up the accent but it'll often come by from certain words. Especially the r's and the v's (pronounces the v = b's)

And the famous bilingual problem ; forgetting words. Both native and english, when people at school found out she was from Puerto Rico (which made her a bit more popular, bragging) people would often come up to her and ask him if their Spanish homework was good enough or what that word meant. She'd either :

A. Be blunt.

B. Knows what it says and capable of translating it but, just, can't.

C. Knows the word in Spanish but forgot it in English.

(^ mostly happens in step 2)

The relationship with the leads!!!

Whenever you would ask Mariana about love, she'd peek at Tamarack Baumann secretly and look back at you, plainly responding by "I don't do that romance crap."

In step 1 : When Tamarack popped out of the leaves, catching Mariana off guard, noticing how pretty Tamarack is.

She was hostile about her at first because of how her heart keeps fluttering everytime she'd smile. They're immediately and naturally close, without Mariana noticing much. And would defend Tamarack at anytime, Tamarack said you look like a broccoli because of your hair? Well she's right and she's being honest about it. Suck it up. Nevertheless ; while those two pining idiots goes trought the hardships of Tamarack not really feeling like a regular and Mariana being, her and confused about her feelings, in the end they could call each other's girlfriend's <3

As for Qiu Lin, ehh...they're neighbors all right. Mariana was ticked off by Qiu's charming personality and Qiu's being a people pleaser.

But in step 2, while Mariana is confused with her feelings and other stuff. Not wanting to bother Tamarack or her mama and on the other hand Qiu's confused with their gender. They'd rely on each other instead and give each other their shoulders to rest their head on to either ramble or stay in complete, comfortable silence. Then Mariana would maybe give a chance to Qiu. Despite Qiu giving up on befriending her, she'd try and befriend them.

And voilà !! All the main stuff you need to know about Mariana. Thank you for giving me your time to talk about her, of course if you have any questions about her or hell, another mc that caught your eye you can ask them away. And I'd cry. Have a wonderful day/afternoon / night!!

[look-me]

“𝑷𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺𝑺”

masc!reader x dealer!abby

warnings: using of weed, idk what else

ーー

au: please don't mind any grammar mistakes and please cuz english its not my native language. ps. i never write a smut. also i'll probably won't correct any mistakes cuz i'm too lazy for it

(this story is shitty how can y'all read this 😭)

part 1

part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a week since you kissed Abby, and the two of you haven’t talked at all. You’ve tried to ignore her whenever you could, but still, you didn’t want her to notice. For example, every time she replied to one of your Instagram stories, you would ‘respond’ by just liking her messages. You wanted to hang out with your usual friend group, but they got mad at you after seeing you leave with Abby that night. They accused you of being a fake friend, of stealing Abby from them—especially one friend of yours who, as you later found out, had a big crush on Abby since the first time she saw her.

“You can’t do that, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re my friend! Why would you do something like that to me?!”

Today, you’re hanging out with some other friends who came into town to see you after you explained what your ex-friends did and what happened with Abby after you left with her. They were shocked. They didn’t know Abby at all, but after you showed them some pictures of her, they just said,

“Y/N, she’s hot and all, but she’s a player. Don’t get attached. Just stay friends with her if you don’t want to cut her off entirely.” After that, they insisted you hang out with them to distract yourself from her.

Now, you and your friends are in a parking lot, vibing to the music blasting from the car speakers, while some other people give you and your group judgmental glances. Your friends are smoking and drinking, screaming their lungs out, singing along to the songs. While you’re laughing at their antics, you notice a girl with black curly hair, long red nails, makeup on, dressed all in black—tight top, tight pants. It’s Julia.

A long time ago, you had a little crush on her because she used to shower you with compliments, was always there for you, and every time you two hung out, it ended in a make-out session. But after you told her you were catching feelings, she started ghosting you, saying she wasn’t ready for a relationship because she had just gotten out of one. You later found out she was lying the whole time, and from that day forward, you started hating her.

-

"Hey," she says with that fake, innocent smile.

Fake ugly bitch.

Why does she have to ruin your moment right now?

"Hi," you mutter, not even looking her in the eyes as you sit on the ground.

"It's been a while."

"Yep," you reply, barely caring about what she says.

"Listen," she starts, her hand sliding onto your thigh, caressing it and moving up and down, dangerously close to your pussy.

You're about to push her away when—

"Hey chicas!" Manny calls out.

"Hey, Manny," she smiles, turning her head towards him.

"What are you two up to?"

"Oh, we're just talking and having fun."

"That kind of fun?" he asks with a smirk.

The girl laughs at Manny's joke and then says,

"I wish."

You whip your head to look at her, your expression dead serious and disgusted, silently screaming: Why the fuck would you say that?

"By the way, aren't you Mike's sister?" Manny asks.

"Yeah, how do you know him?" you respond, your voice clipped as you shoot him a serious and irritated look. It's not your fault you come off as mad, but Julia's presence is grating on your nerves right now.

"You know, he gives me things when my best friend can't," Manny says casually.

You roll your eyes, already tired of hearing that same old story. Every time someone says they know your brother, it's always because of the same damn reason-he's a dealer, and you're so over it.

"Okay," you reply, clearly done with the conversation.

"Okay, chicas, I'll leave you two alone now.

See you later," Manny says, heading off.

The second he's far enough away, you round on Julia.

"What the fuck was that? What's your problem?" you snap, roughly pushing her hand away from your thigh.

"Omg, Y/N! I was just joking," she protests.

"No, fuck you. You know what you did to me-treating me like I was your girlfriend, telling me l was yours, making out with me, and then saying you didn't want a relationship. You have serious fucking problems for saying that shit in front of him when I don't even know him. And you say it like it's nothing? Do you even realize how much that hurt me? Are you fucking stupid? Why are you even here anyway?"

You and Julia are in the middle of a heated argument, voices rising as you go back and forth. Your friends are still chilling with the music blasting, completely unaware of the tension between the two of you. Julia’s face is twisted with frustration, but you’re too fed up to care.

Meanwhile, Abby is at home, watching some random movie to pass the time when a notification pops up on her phone:

Manny - 2 new messages.

“Hey, pendeja”

“Wanna hang out when I’m done with some stuff?”

A new notification interrupts:

*NEW MESSAGES*

Manny: Do you know Mike’s sister?

“Isn’t she the girl you told me about? They look similar by your description.”

*image.*

Abby quickly taps on the notifications, her curiosity piqued. The image loads, and her stomach drops. It’s a picture of you and Julia, her hand resting way too high on your thigh. Abby stares at the image for a moment, her jaw tightening.

She replies instantly.

Abby: Where are you?

“In the usual parking lot we hang out at with Owen, Jordan, you know.”

“You still want to hang out?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up the others right now, be at your place in 10.”

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later, Manny pulls up at Abby’s house, and soon they’re walking through the parking lot. Abby’s eyes are scanning the crowd until she spots you, her expression darkening.

Manny heads your way, shouting, “Hey, told you I’d be back so—” He stops mid-sentence when he sees Julia kissing you, her lips pressed against yours as a soft moan escapes her. Abby freezes, her vision tunneling, anger flaring up inside her. Her fists clench as her heart pounds in her chest.

Just then, your friend Micheal calls out from the car, unknowingly saving you from the situation, “Y/N! Wanna try this drink? It’s fire!”

You push Julia away from you, wiping your mouth quickly, and stand up, turning to head toward Martin. But just as you reach for the drink, a hand snatches it away before you can grab it.

“You’re not drinking tonight,” a cold voice says.

You look up to see Abby standing in front of you, her blue eyes burning with barely-contained anger.

“Abby? What are you—“

“Shut your mouth and walk,” she snaps, throwing the drink aside before grabbing your arm. Her grip is firm, leaving no room for argument as she pulls you away from the group, forcing you to walk with her.

Your heart races as you glance back at your friends, then at Julia, but Abby doesn't care. She’s got you now, and there’s no escaping whatever comes next.

"Abby, stop."

"Manny, give me your car keys. I'll be back in a minute."

"Sure," he says, handing Abby the keys without asking any questions.

"Get in the car, Y/N."

"Abby, let me go."

She opens the car door and forces you inside. As she takes the driver's seat, you try to open the door, but she's already locked it.

"Abby, what's wrong with you? Open the fucking door!"

Abby doesn't respond. She starts the engine and speeds out of the parking lot.

"Abby, slow down!"

After twenty minutes of speeding, Abby pulls over in the middle of nowhere-no lights, no houses, just darkness all around.

"Fuck! Abigail!"

She turns on the interior light, and you look at her, scared of what might happen. You don't know if Abby is a violent person or not. Her eyes are filled with fury, and you can see she's seething with anger.

"We need to talk. Now."

"No, we don't."

"Oh yeah? So you think it's okay to ignore me and treat me like l'm a stranger?"

"Wha-"

"Don't play dumb, Y/N, and don't make any excuses. You're not even drunk."

The silence between you two grows heavier.

"Why did you stop talking to me after we kissed?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"What do you mean?"

"Abby, you have a new girl with you every two seconds. You're always having sex or making out with them in a blink of an eye." You sigh before continuing, "I felt-and still feel-like a sex toy to you."

"You're not."

"Yeah, like I can really trust you on that," you say sarcastically, turning your face to the window. "I should've never told you about my feelings. We can't work together."

"Y/N-"

"I fucking hate you, Abby. I hate having feelings for someone who would probably just use me however she likes!" You spit out, facing her again.

"I've told you many times that I don't like how you talk to me. I'm serious, Y/N. Stop."

"Abby, seriously, fuck you."

At that, she grabs your neck, nearly choking you, and pulls you two inches away from her face.

"Oh yeah? Then who is that girl? And why was she kissing you and moaning into your mouth? Why was she almost touching your pussy moments before I showed up?"

After the last sentence, you try to understand how she could have seen that, and then you connect the dots. She’s Manny’s best friend. But how?

“How do you—”

“Manny sent me a picture.”

Fuck you, manny

“It’s none of your business who she is, and I didn’t try anything with her.”

“Then why didn’t you push her away from you?” Abby says, tightening her grip on your neck slightly.

“I was shocked. She caught me by surprise.”

Abby doesn’t answer. Instead, she keeps her intense gaze fixed on you, trying to see if you’re lying.

“I was just trying to distract myself from you. Now you’re acting jealous, calling me yours, but are you mine?” you say

“What do you think?”

“You aren’t. I think we both know that, Abigail.”

Just then, your phone starts ringing with a photo of a curly haired woman —Julia — popping up.

Abby recognizes the girl and stares at you, clearly unimpressed by the timing.

“Don’t you even try to answer.”

You ignore her and answer the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Hello? Love?” Julia says, and you remain silent.

Abby looks at you and whispers, “Love? Really?”

“Julia, what do you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I saw that girl taking you away from me while we were talking.”

As Julia continues talking, Abby starts giving you hickeys on your neck, causing you to moan intentionally. You’re so focused on the sensations that you stop listening to whatever Julia is saying.

“Are you okay, love?” Julia asks, her voice tinged with concern.

Abby pulls her head away from your neck and grabs your phone from your hand. You try to fight her, but you know Abby is hundred times stronger than you.

“She’s busy right now,” Abby says before hanging up on Julia.

“Abby, what the fuck?”

Abby doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, which contains a joint and a lighter.

You know where this is going to end.

Abby leans back in the driver’s seat and brings the joint to her lips, the tip flaring orange in the complete darkness. The only sound is the faint crackle of burning paper and herb as she takes a long drag. Smoke fills the air, swirling around her in lazy spirals, barely visible in the faint moonlight that seeps through the windows. The deep, earthy scent of cannabis mixes with the musty smell of the old car seats, creating an almost comforting atmosphere. Abby exhales slowly, the smoke pouring from her mouth and nostrils, diffusing into the blackness outside. The silence is profound, with no hum of traffic or distant chatter, only the occasional rustle of wind through unseen trees. Her eyes are half-closed, her mind drifting as she stares out into the void, feeling an odd sense of peace in the isolation. She takes another drag, the glow from the joint briefly illuminating her fingers before once again merging with the surrounding darkness.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Abby remains silent.

“Are you really smoking while we’re arguing?”

Still.

“I’m done with your bullshit, Abigail. Let me go.”

As you say this, Abby rests the joint between her lips, freeing both of her hands.

Abby’s hands clutch the car’s armrest. With a sudden, rough motion, she yanks you toward her, forcing you onto her lap. You gasp, startled by Abby’s intensity as your bodies collide in the confined space of Manny’s motionless car. She removes one hand from your waist to grab the joint and exhale the smoke.

“I told you many times to stop calling me by my full name,” she says, gripping your neck and pulling you closer to her face.

“And I told you many times I’m not any of your bitches, Abigail.”

“You’re mine, Y/N.”

“Fuck you.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” she says, closing the distance between you until you’re just two inches apart.

“Too bad you made me mad,” she whispers.

You’re about to respond when her phone starts ringing. The caller ID shows ‘Manny.’

Abby rolls her eyes and throws away her joint as if it’s nothing.

“What do you want?”

“Abby, I need my car. Owen needs to grab something from home.”

“Fine.” She hangs up. Without missing a beat, she turns her head and locks her gaze with yours, her icy blue eyes filled with a silent warning.

“Don’t you even try to go back to her when we’re there again,” Abby says, her voice low but firm, every word laced with intensity.

You meet her stare, unimpressed. “You’re so annoying, Abby.”

With a sigh, you move to open the car door, slipping off Abby’s lap and sliding back into the passenger seat, feeling the shift in the air between you. Abby’s eyes never leave you, even as she shifts back into the driver’s seat, jaw tight, hands resting on the steering wheel, as if bracing for whatever comes next. As soon as you settle back into the passenger seat, Abby shifts the car into gear, her fingers tightening around the wheel. The tension in the air is thick, unspoken words hanging between you as you drive in silence. The dark, winding roads stretch out before you, the headlights cutting through the night, but neither of you says a word. Abby’s eyes flick over to you a few times, but she stays focused on the road. Her jaw is set, frustration simmering beneath her calm exterior. You lean against the window, your breath fogging up the glass slightly, arms crossed as the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the tires on the asphalt become the only sounds. Minutes pass, feeling like hours, until the familiar sight of the compound appears in the distance, its fortified walls and the glow of lights signaling you are back. The tension shifts, replaced by a looming sense of inevitability. The car rolls to a stop near the entrance where Manny and a few others are waiting, standing in the dim light as they speak amongst themselves. Abby kills the engine and sits there for a moment, staring straight ahead. “We’re here,” she mutters, her tone curt. You shoot her a sidelong glance but don’t say anything. You push open the door and step out, the cool night air hitting your skin as you stretch, shaking off the weight of the car ride. Manny notices you and gives a short wave, walking over with a grin on his face.

"Hey, took you guys long enough," he jokes, but he quickly notices the tension radiating from you and Abby.

Abby climbs out of the driver's seat, standing tall as she slams the door shut. Her eyes briefly meet yours, but she quickly turns to Manny. “We had some things to discuss about.” she says, her voice flat.

Manny raises a brow, sensing the atmosphere between you, but doesn’t press it. “Well, glad you're back. i’ll take owen at home home, we’ll be back in 10.”

After Manny finishes talking, you move to walk back to your friends when you feel pressure on your waist. It's Abby, her large, veiny hands gripping you firmly. She leans in, her voice low and steady.

"I'm coming with you."

"No, leave me alone," you reply, trying to pull away.

"Calm down, princess. I haven't even started with you yet," she whispers into your ear, smirking. Then, without warning, she presses a kiss against your neck, and it makes you freeze in place.

Abby lets you go, but she stays close, walking beside you with that familiar intensity. From a distance, one of your friends notices Abby’s presence and immediately makes her way over. Without hesitation, she grabs your arm, pulling you away from the tension. Abby lets you go, her hand sliding off your waist as she begins walking next to you, her presence still heavy in the air.

"Come hereeee" she says, her voice light and carefree as she leads you toward the others. The music from the speakers pulses through the empty parking lot, and soon enough, you’re moving to the beat, your friend helping you shake off the tension as Abby watches from the sidelines, her gaze never leaving you. As the beat of the next song thumps through the speakers, your friend throws her head back, laughing. She leans into you, resting her head on your shoulder, her laughter light and carefree.

“Oh my god, I’ve never had this much fun in so long,” she says, still giggling, her words slurring from all the excitement. You feel her happiness infectiously sinking in.

Abby Standing off to the side, arms crossed, her jaw clenched tight, she watches you with a growing intensity. The sight of you laughing, vibing, and lost in the moment with your friend pushes her to the edge. Her patience snaps, and she starts walking toward you, the determination in her stride cutting through the music. You can feel the weight of her presence approaching, the air around you thickening.

She's had enough.

When Abby reaches you, her large hand grips your arm—not harshly, but firm enough that you feel the seriousness behind it.

“We’re done here,” Abby says, her voice low and commanding. There’s a tension in her words that sends a chill down your spine. She’s barely keeping it together. Abby isn’t going to wait for an answer, and before you can think too hard about it, she’s pulling you away from the music, away from the carefree vibe, and into the shadowy edges of the parking lot. You open your mouth to protest, the frustration bubbling up inside you, but before you can say a word, Abby steps in close, towering over you, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of control and desire.

“Not even a word,” she interrupts, her voice low and unwavering. Her smirk pulls at the corner of her lips, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just wait till we get home,” she adds, her tone dripping with a promise that makes your pulse quicken. It’s the kind of tone that says it all:

I’m going to make you regret that.

You stand there, frozen, caught between defiance and the undeniable pull Abby has over you. your friends’s voice a distant hum as Abby’s presence overtakes everything. There’s no escape from the intensity in her eyes, and you know whatever is waiting for you at home is going to be something you won’t forget easily. After a moment of tense silence between you and Abby, Manny walks back over, catching sight of the two of you standing close, the tension still thick in the air. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything at first, sensing the shift.

“Oye chicas, you guys good?” he asks with a playful smile, his voice casual, but there’s a knowing edge to it. Manny has been around Abby long enough to pick up on her moods, and right now, he’s smart enough to stay out of it.

Abby barely glances his way, her hand still lingering on your arm. “Can you take us to my place?” she asks, her voice steady, but there’s no mistaking the undertone of command. It’s not really a request, and Manny knows it. He looks between the two of you, his gaze lingering on Abby for a beat longer. He doesn’t ask why or what’s going on—he doesn’t need to. Manny knows Abby better than almost anyone, and he can tell exactly what kind of mood she’s in.

“Sí, claro,” he says with a nod, keeping it simple. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask the questions swirling in his mind. After all, Abby is his best friend, and if there’s one thing he’s learned over the years, it’s when to mind his own business. You steal a glance at Abby, her smirk still lingering, and your stomach tightens with a mix of anticipation and nerves. Manny leads the way to the car, and you can feel Abby’s gaze burning into you the whole time. Whatever’s coming, you’re not going to be able to avoid it. You slide into the backseat with Abby beside you, the car ride feeling heavier than it should. Manny stays quiet up front, the silence only broken by the low rumble of the engine as he drives, and you’re left wondering what’s going to happen when you finally get to Abby’s place.

-

who knows what is going to happen next👀