#be warned writers

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You tend to remember the smallest things and dates which are of you and Chan, so you decided to surprise him with a homemade dinner on the date of when you both met for the first time. Except for, you didn't expect Chan to forget it, let alone react the way he did.

Warnings: Couple arguments. Use of strong language, a bit of angst & tears, Smut🔞, unprotected (make-up) sex, intimate, oral (f.receiving), pet names, brief mention of a tummy bulge (so size kink if you squint I guess?). Use of Y/N (but only twice).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: I think I'm going through a phase rn, somehow I am ADDICTED to writing angst and tears— LMFAOOO @mrs-hwangh what have you done to me???

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 5.6k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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Your soft hums of your favourite song echoed quietly in the living room, smiling to yourself as you fiddled with a silver bow, wrapping a small box that contained a gift you bought for your boyfriend a few days ago.

Today was the day when you both met for the first time four years ago, in the same college, at the same coffee shop where he accidentally bumped into you and spilled his drink all over your notes and you never would have imagined that moment would lead to this.

To love. To Chan.

Your heart swelled at the memory, a fond chuckle escaping your lips. You had planned a simple evening, nothing too extravagant, just the two of you, sharing memories over a homemade dinner and the gift you picked out so lovingly. You knew how busy he was, but today mattered to you. It was the day everything began.

Once you had everything set, you waited for Chan to return home from work, your leg tapping on the floor and fingers playing with the hem of your dress.

Minutes passed to hours and you hadn't received any calls or texts from him, but you waited patiently. Maybe he was caught up at work. Maybe he forgot to check his phone. Still, you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

The sound of the door unlocking cut through your thoughts, and you quickly stood up, smoothing down your dress. Relief and excitement flickered in your chest as Chan walked in, rubbing the back of his neck, looking utterly exhausted.

His bag slumped onto the floor as he kicked off his shoes, barely glancing up at you. Your heart sank ever so slightly but you tried not to let that disappointment settle in.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, stepping forward. “Long day?”

He nodded, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah. I’m drained.”

You swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I… I made dinner. And I got you something,” you said, gesturing to the neatly wrapped gift on the coffee table.

Chan barely spared it a glance, his brows furrowing slightly. “What’s the occasion?”

Your heart dropped, but you put on a soft smile. You couldn't get mad at him if he forgot it, even though you wished he didn't. That he didn't forget the date or not acknowledge the effort, the way you had been looking forward to this all day.

"You don’t remember?” Your voice came out quieter, trying to mask in a playful tone.

He sighed again, rubbing his forehead, looking as if he'd been asked questions in an interview. "Um no, why don't you tell me?"

The way his voice sounded made you feel like you got slashed with a blade, but you shoved that dramatic thought aside and walked closer to him, biting your lower lip in order to swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat.

“It’s the day we met.” Your voice wavered slightly, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you but you continued smiling softly. “Four years ago today.”

Chan exhaled, running a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his features. “Babe, I’ve been swamped with work. I barely know what time it is.”

You blinked, his words stinging more than you expected. “I get that you’re busy, Chan. I really do. But this was important to me.”

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on, don’t do this. It’s just a date. It’s not like an anniversary or anything.”

You took a small step back as if he had physically pushed you. You blinked up at him, trying not to let his words form the tears to gush up your eyes.

Your arms wrapped around yourself, hoping that would keep you steady. "I just thought this would mean something to you too."

His brows furrowed deeper, irritation creeping into his voice. "Of course it means something to me. But I don’t have the luxury of remembering every single date when I’m drowning in deadlines."

Your heart clenched, his words cutting deeper than you expected. "So, what, I'm just supposed to understand that I come second to everything else in your life? That it’s okay for you to forget something that mattered so much to me?"

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. "That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just a date."

"Just a date?" Your voice cracked, a slight tone of anger and heartbreak mixing in your chest. "It’s the day we met, Chan. The day everything started. I planned this for us. I waited for you, and you didn’t even think to text me back? Or check your phone?"

"I was working! I don’t have time to be glued to my phone every second!" His voice was sharper now, making you flinch hard, his frustration spilling over. "I come home exhausted, hoping to relax, and now I have to deal with this?!"

The venom in his voice made you shiver and you hugged yourself tighter. "Chan, please don't shout..."

"No, I mean you always do this. I get it, that you remember small things, but I just want an evening of peace after a long day at work."

Chan had rarely raised his voice, your throat tightened at his words, a dull ache forming in your chest. You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to stay calm even though his tone made you feel like you were drowning.

“I’m not asking you to drop everything for me, Chan,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I just thought—” You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the fabric of your dress. “I thought maybe today would matter to you too.”

His jaw clenched, and he ran a frustrated hand through his curls, exhaling sharply. “Sure you did,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “You always do this, Y/N. You put so much weight on things that I—”

He stopped himself, hesitating, but you already knew where he was going with this.

“That you what?” You challenged, your voice barely above a whisper. “That you don’t care?”

Chan looked at you then, eyes dark with exhaustion and irritation. “That I don’t have the mental space to deal with every single date, every little detail, every expectation you set for me without telling me.”

His words cut deeper and deeper, the sting of them making your eyes well up. You blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.

“I never asked you to be perfect, Chan,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I never expected you to remember every little thing. But this?” 

You gestured weakly toward the dinner table, the untouched meal, the small, neatly wrapped gift that now felt like a stupid afterthought.

“It's the day we met for the first time, so it just meant as much to me as our anniversary.”

Chan’s lips parted slightly, his brows furrowing, but he said nothing. That silence, that hesitation, hurt more than his words.

Your fingers wrinkled your dress, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the apartment. “You know, I wasn’t even mad that you forgot. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

Chan let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You think that I don’t want to spend time with you? Do you know how exhausting it is to juggle everything, to be everywhere at once? And now, I come home and instead of just relaxing with you, I’m being guilt-tripped over a date I forgot?”

The sharp sting of his words left you breathless.

Guilt-tripping? That was what he thought this was? Your efforts, your love, your excitement, had all of it been reduced to you being an inconvenience to him?

Your lips parted, your throat constricting as a wave of emotions surged through you. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Chan,” you said, your voice wavering. “I just wanted you to remember. I wanted you to want this too.”

His expression flickered, something unreadable flashing across his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a heavy sigh. “I’m tired, okay? I’m so damn tired. I don’t have time to remember every little thing—”

“Every little thing?” you cut him off, your voice suddenly louder, cracking under the weight of your emotions.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “I didn’t say it wasn’t important, I just—damn it, I forgot, okay? I’m human! I make mistakes!”

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, eyes stinging, heart breaking. “Forgetting is one thing,” you said, voice thick with unshed tears. “But the way you’re acting right now? Like I’m just another problem you have to deal with?”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands clenched at your sides. “That hurts more than you forgetting.”

Chan’s eyes widened slightly, the anger in his expression flickering for a brief moment. But the damage was done. The silence between you was heavy, suffocating, the walls closing in around you.

You shook your head, backing away from him. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Y/N…” he started, but you turned away from him.

“No. I get it. You’re tired. You need space. And I’m obviously asking for too much,” you said, your voice hollow. “So I’ll make it easy for you.”

With that, you turned on your heel, took your keys that were sitting on the coffee table and walked toward the door, grabbing your coat. Chan’s eyes darkened, his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Where are you going?”

You untangled yourself off his grip and slipped in your coat, brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Somewhere that doesn’t make me feel like I’m begging for your attention.”

His face fell, and for the first time that evening, you saw a flicker of realization in his eyes—as if he finally understood just how much he had hurt you.

“No, wait, please,” he said, reaching for you, but you pulled away before he could touch you.

You turned away and closed the door behind you, walking away as fast as you could to your car, driving back to your apartment.

Behind the door Chan grabbed fistfuls of his hair, grunting and growling under his breath as he fell on the plush couch.

His eyes caught the small, neatly wrapped gift that was sitting on the coffee table, he hesitated for a second but then opened it, his heart sank like a stone thrown in the ocean when he saw what was nestling inside.

His favourite bracelet he lost when we went on a business trip a few months ago. It was the exact same design and brand.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the bracelet, the silver catching the dim glow of the living room light. His throat tightened painfully as he turned it over in his hands, his vision blurring slightly.

And you… you had remembered. You had gone out of your way to find it, to replace something that meant so much to him, because that’s just the kind of person you were.

Chan exhaled sharply, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the weight of his words from earlier slamming into him like a truck.

What had he done?

***

The next morning you woke up, exhausted, your vision blurry, nose stuffed and what felt like a dull headache creeping up your forehead. You groaned softly and walked into the bathroom, to find your state in a mess.

Disheveled hair, puffy cheeks with stained mascara, swollen eyes and lips. You had barely stepped inside your apartment before the dam broke, tears spilling freely as you sunk in your bed.

You didn't know at what time you reached home or when you had fallen asleep.

You hated arguing with Chan. 

Sure you had a few disagreements once in a while but they were different. But this kind of argument; where it wasn’t just a misunderstanding, but something way deeper, made you question if you were the only one holding onto the pieces of your relationship while he let them slip through his fingers so easily.

You fixed yourself into the shower, letting the water wash away the fresh set of tears that began to run down your face. After a while you stepped out and changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and grabbed your phone, only to see a dozen calls and texts from Chan.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, heart pounding as you scrolled through the missed calls. Channie <3 (12).

The unread messages blurred together, but you caught glimpses of them as your breath hitched.

Channie <3 [1:12 AM]: Please, baby, pick up. Channie <3 [1:13 AM]: I know you’re mad. I know I fucked up. But please, don’t shut me out. Channie <3 [2:03 AM]: Are you home? Are you safe? Just… let me know you’re okay. That’s all I need right now.

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled further, his messages growing more frantic, more desperate.

Channie <3 [2:45 AM]: I can’t sleep knowing I hurt you like this.

Channie <3 [3:20 AM]: I love you. I love you so much. I don’t deserve you, but please tell me you’re okay.

Your chin wobbled as you closed your eyes and kept your phone face down on the nightstand, not knowing what to respond to him. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face him yet, if you could talk to him and not break all over again.

You walked out of your bedroom, to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee when the front door bell rang. You glanced at the clock hanging on your wall, wondering if you were expecting anyone in the morning, you sighed heavily and walked to the door, only to be greeted by someone that made you feel like you got pulled into the floor.

Outside stood Chan, his face masked with exhaustion and faint hints of dark circles under his eyes and messy hair as if he had been running his hand through it the entire night. He was holding a bag, what looked like it was from your favourite bakery and bouquet of flowers, his gaze locking in with yours, pleading you for a chance and forgiveness.

You attempted to close the door but Chan held it, interrupting you from shutting him out. “Sweetheart…” He started but before he could say anything, you left the door hanging and walked into the living room.

Chan hesitated at the doorway, gripping the bag and flowers tightly as he watched you walk away. He took a shaky breath and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him.

The quiet of your apartment felt heavier than usual, like an invisible barrier had formed between the two of you. He placed the bag on the kitchen counter, setting the flowers beside it, before slowly following your retreating figure.

You kept your back to him, your arms crossed over your chest as you stood near the window, staring outside as if willing yourself to be anywhere but here.

“Baby…” Chan tried again, his voice softer this time. Apologetic.

You tensed but didn’t turn around.

He took a careful step forward. “Please, just—”

“Don’t,” you said, your voice a whisper, but it carried enough weight to stop him in his tracks.

Chan swallowed hard. He wanted to reach for you, to hold you, to tell you he was sorry in a way that would make up for last night. But the weight of the argument hung so heavily between you both, without sparing a glance at him, you went inside your bedroom.

The soft click of the door shutting behind you echoed louder than it should have, and Chan exhaled shakily, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

He had messed up. Badly.

His gaze flickered to the neatly wrapped pastries and the bouquet he had brought. He had stopped by your favorite bakery the moment they opened, hoping—praying—that it would mean something, that it would show you he was trying to make up for the way he reacted.

But he knew better. A box of pastries and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t, wouldn't erase the way he had hurt you.

With a tired sigh, he sank onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. He didn’t know how much time had passed, only that the silence in the apartment was suffocating.

He glanced toward your closed bedroom door, debating if he should give you more time or if he should go to you now.

But his heart won over his hesitation.

Slowly, he pushed himself up and walked toward your door, his footsteps hesitant but determined. He paused just outside, lifting a hand to knock, but stopped himself at the last second.

Instead, he carefully turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

You were sitting on the bed, your back facing him, silent sobs filling the room. As much as you wanted to hate him for the way he behaved, you simply couldn’t. His presence alone was enough to pull you over, but the heaviness of your emotions made it hard to think. 

Chan’s heart ached at the sight and the sound of your sobs. You heard his footsteps, with a choked voice you said, “Chan, go away.”

He couldn’t go away like that. Not until he tells you how sorry he is and how much he regrets last night. 

“Honey…”

Your shoulders shook harder with each breath, Chan made his way towards you and sat next to you, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush to his chest. You couldn’t react, just stayed frozen in his embrace.

“Baby, my love, I’m so sorry…” He exhaled deeply. “I hate myself for the way I was last night. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t important to me because, God, baby, you are everything to me.”

“I messed up,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I was stressed, and I let it make me forget what really matters. I forgot us. And that’s not okay.”

You swallowed thickly, your body still stiff in his hold, unsure if you should let yourself sink into his warmth or resist the comfort you so desperately craved. His arms tightened around you, his heartbeat pounding in a frantic rhythm under your ear.

“I should have come home and held you,” Chan murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I should have kissed you and told you how much I love you instead of making you feel like you were asking for too much.”

Your lips parted in a shaky exhale, the weight of his words pressing against your fragile heart.

“You never ask for too much,” he whispered, his voice raw, filled with self-reproach. “You only ever ask for me,” his throat flexed, “and I failed you.”

A fresh wave of tears spilled from your eyes, but this time, you weren’t alone in your grief. Chan pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, as if he was trying to kiss away the pain he had caused.

He gently turned you in his embrace, urging you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as he tilted your face up to his. Your vision was blurry, so you closed your eyes, unsure if you could look at him.

His thumbs brushed away the tears clinging to your skin, his touch featherlight, reverent. “Please look at me, sweetheart.”

And then you did. And what you saw made your breath hitch.

Pure, unfiltered love—wrapped in sorrow, wrapped in desperation. His dark eyes were puffy from lack of sleep, rimmed with exhaustion and regret. His lips were slightly chapped, parted as if he had a thousand apologies to spill but didn’t know where to start. He looked just as broken as you felt.

His mouth brushed on your forehead, lips trembling as he whispered, “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you, baby.”

Your chin trembled. “Then why did I feel like I was alone in this?”

Chan inhaled sharply, his expression crumbling. “You’re not,” he said instantly, his voice urgent. “I swear, you’re not. I just—” He exhaled heavily, his fingers trembling as they traced over the curve of your jaw. 

“I shouldn’t have taken out my stress from work on you, when you only wanted to spend time with me on a day that I should have remembered too. I’m really sorry baby. I can’t lose you over this.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips, then back to his eyes, searching, wavering. His words poured out so thick with emotion, unfiltered and raw, it made your chest tighten so hard, it hurt.

“Tell me now,” his fingers brushed away the faint tear stains from your face, “Do you want me to go?”

Your breath and words were stuck in your throat. Part of you wanted to let your pain fester a little longer so he could understand just how much last night had hurt. But the way he was looking at you, so full of remorse, it broke through the wall you had tried to keep up.

Chan was here. And he was trying.

The sincerity of his voice and his presence thawed the ice that built around your heart overnight, you couldn't stay angry at him for another moment longer. Because you knew the love you had for him could overshadow any kind of pain.

Your fingers reached up, hesitant, before threading through his soft curls. He sucked in a breath at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, his grip on you tightening.

Time was frozen, breaths were stolen and before you could stop yourself, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. “Don't hurt me again…” You chokingly whispered.

“Never sweetheart. I won't ever do that again.” He let out a shaky breath against your neck, his hands running up your back, molding your body to his like he was terrified you’d disappear if he let go.

“Let me make it up to you,” he whispered, his voice so low and vulnerable that it sent a shiver down your spine.

His lips brushed over your cheek first, barely there, as if he was asking for permission. Then he kissed the corner of your mouth, lingering and waiting. “Please.”

And when you didn’t pull away, he finally pressed his lips to yours.

Soft and hesitant.

Not demanding, not rushed, just a quiet plea wrapped in tenderness.

His lips molded against yours like a silent confession, staying there as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt against him.

His hands moved up your sides, thumbs tracing absent patterns over your skin. He wasn’t taking, he was giving, pouring all of his love into every press of his himself, every stroke of his fingertips.

Your body melted into his instinctively, your hands tightening in his hair as you deepened the kiss, letting yourself drown in the warmth of him. 

He made a quiet sound against you, almost like a sigh of relief, as if he had been waiting for this, for you to accept him, to let him back in as he laid you on your back and toyed with the waistband of your pants.

He had barely touched you and you were already on liquid fire. Blood coursed through your veins when he pulled them down, the chilly air making you shiver at the contact of your heated skin. 

“Chan…”  Your voice came out in a breathy whisper, half moan and half command, when his lips danced over the soft skin of your thighs. 

“Hmm?” when he pressed there, you couldn't help but sigh completely. “What is it honey?” He coaxed, the huskiness of his voice that made it hard to think. Did you want him to stop? Or did you want him to go on?

“I…,” He smirked against you as he made his way up, a path that he knew like the back of his hand. He spread your legs apart, the glistening sight before him reawoke a rush of possessiveness in him. 

“I hate fighting with you.” Chan whispered against your flesh, voice raw and aching. 

Your fingers found his hair, tugging him closer as if that alone could answer him. His breath fanned over your core, and his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your thighs.

“You’re my world,” he admitted, looking up at you, eyes dark but filled with something deeper than lust. “And I want to give you everything. I'm sorry for ruining last night baby.”

The words sent a warmth spiraling through you, melting away the remnants of your argument.

He brushed a kitten kiss right on your swollen clit, and your body responded instantly, arching toward his touch. He took his time, tracing delicate patterns with his tongue, exploring you with a reverence that left you breathless. 

His hands kept you steady, but the way he worshipped you made you feel as if you were floating. You couldn't help but squirm, soft moans spilled from your lips, and when you murmured his name.

This wasn’t about just sex. It was about him making up for every harsh word he said, erasing any distance that had carved its way between you both over the past 12 hours.

His mouth moved over you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every reaction, every soft gasp that spilled from your throat. His hands, rough and calloused, held you with the gentleness of a man afraid to break something precious.

“Cha—nhg,” You whimpers didn't slow him down. It only made him go faster and faster, tongue flicking and licking with an agonizing pressure. 

He groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. You attempted to pull his head away from your pulsing core but he wouldn't budge. 

“I'm not done.” He looked up from your pussy, chin and lips swollen and glistening with your arousal. 

He dove back in with a renewed, hungry pace, his nose nudging against your clit, the warmth shooting up to every inch of your body. He couldn't get enough of how you tasted, how you moaned and screamed only for him. If he could, he would stay right were he was forever.

The band in your lower belly knotted tighter and tighter, had you writhing and bucking your hips, it was on the edge of snapping

And then you surrendered to him. Your orgasm left you gasping, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes and only his name escaping your lips, Chan held you firmly as he helped you ride it out. 

He didn't let you go for a second as he sucked and licked your pussy splurting with arousal like he was on the verge of starvation, until he left you boneless but content beneath him.

Slowly, he made his way up your body, removing your top and his mouth hovering your hips, across the plane of your stomach, up the valley between your breasts. Each of it was an apology, a whispered promise against your skin.

“Baby,”—smooch—“fuck you're so sweet when you,”—smooch—“come on my face.” He said between kisses and gentle nipping on your sensitive, peaking buds that rebuilt the anticipation.

Soon enough every piece of clothing was discarded until it was only the fiery sparkles of your sweat misted bodies flying between you both. He shifted, positioning himself between your legs.

The tip of his cock nudged your nub softly before entered you slowly, filling you inch by inch, watching your face for every reaction. You gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Chan let out a shuddering breath, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close as he started to move. His pace was slow, deliberate, each thrust sending a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you, but it was more than that. 

It was a silent conversation, an absolution, a way of reminding each other that no fight, no disagreement, could ever take this away from you.

You pulled him in deeper and deeper, his cock twitched hard inside of you, the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin, sweat and groans soaked the air. 

His eyes fell down to where you both joined, what he saw drove him out of his mind. A soft but visible movement in your tummy. 

“Shi— fuck.”

Your eyes fluttered open when he held your hand and brought it over your tummy where you felt the bulge that was moving in and out of you.

“Feel that?” He pounded into you that made you arch your back, digging your nails into his skin. “D’you feel that baby?” 

You nodded, out of breath, mouth falling open until the cries of pleasure consumed you whole, the feel of the bulge just spurring you on more. 

His hands roamed your body, mapping familiar paths, his lips never straying far from yours. He whispered sweet nothings against your skin, words of love and devotion, apologies and reassurances.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but steady.

You smiled softly for the first time after the long hours, tilting your head to kiss him once more. “I love you too.”

And just like that, the fight was forgotten. Not because it didn’t matter, but because what you had together was always stronger.

“You're squeezing me baby,” his orgasm rushed fast and threatened to take over him, climbing up his spine and snapping his restraints. 

“Chan I'm… I'm going to come,” 

And your release finally crashed over you again, it wasn’t just pleasure—it was catharsis. 

A loud cry tore off your throat as you flooded around his cock, shaking and moaning, Chan followed seconds after slamming into you in one last thrust, burying himself deep with a breathless groan, his body caging over yours.

The post sex high lingered but he didn’t move or pull out. He stayed wrapped around you, pressing lazy kisses to your temple, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach. His fingers traced slow patterns on your skin, grounding you both in the quiet aftermath.

“Do you forgive me?” He asked softly, his fingers brushing away a few strands of hair. 

You smiled cheekily, fingers running through his damp sweat hair, “No,” you said lowly that made his eyes widen in disbelief.

His reaction made a laugh bubble up your throat, you pulled him down onto your mouth letting your tongue slip past his lips and had him melt all over again.

“Yes, I forgive you Chan.” You said pulling back, chest heaving and content. 

He chuckled deeply, hugging you tightly, the lingering amusement from your playful teasing was still evident in the crinkle of his nose. 

Then, with a slow, deliberate exhale, he shifted, reluctantly pulling away from your warmth.

You watched him as he retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom, wiped you clean before he reached for his pants, discarded somewhere on the floor, and retrieved something small from the pocket. 

When he turned back to you, he held a tiny velvet box in his hands.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Chan hesitated, his thumb brushing over the soft fabric of the box as if gathering the courage to speak. Then, with a slow inhale, he flicked it open.

Inside, nestled against the velvet lining, were two delicate rings, a simple silver band with a tiny, shimmering stone embedded at its center. It wasn’t flashy, nor extravagant, but it was beautiful in a way that felt so intimate and personal.

Your eyes flickered from the ring to his face, your heart hammering against your ribcage. “Chan…?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, but you could tell he was nervous. His free hand found yours, fingers lacing together as he held you close.

“I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, waiting for the right moment. And I—” He sighed laughing, shaking his head. “I guess last night was the moment but…”

Chan took a steadying breath, his fingers tracing the edge of the velvet box. “I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes,” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I push too hard, tease too much. And when we fight, I say things I don’t mean.”

You shook your head, reaching out to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief second before continuing.

“It’s not… a proposal,” he clarified quickly, though his lips curled into that familiar teasing smirk. “Not yet, at least. But it’s a promise.” He squeezed your hand, eyes searching yours with a raw kind of vulnerability. 

“A promise that no matter how much we fight, no matter how many times I mess up… I’ll always choose you. I’ll always come back to you. If you’ll have me.”

Your throat felt tight, emotions swelling so intensely in your chest that you could barely breathe. “Oh Channie,”

His smirk faltered, concern flashing across his face. “Is it too much?” he asked hesitantly. “I know we just—”

You shook your head quickly, cutting him off. “No,” a shaky laugh escaped you . “It’s perfect.”

Relief flooded his features, and for the first time, you saw the nervous tension completely drain from his shoulders.

“Then… will you wear it?” he asked softly, lifting the ring from the box.

“Of course, I will.” You nodded, biting your bottom lip and holding out your hand, he slipped the cool metal onto your finger, the fit perfect, like it was meant to be there all along.

You took the other one from the box and slid it onto his finger with the same reverence, looking up at him through damp lashes.

“This is my promise to you,” you echoed, voice soft but sure. “That even when you’re a pain in the ass sometimes, I’ll still choose you. Every time.”

Chan let out a breathless chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he gazed at you like you hung the stars.

“God, I love you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

You didn’t get the chance to respond before his mouth collided with yours again, slow, deep, and filled with a devotion that made your heart flutter in the best way possible.

And as you fell back on the mattress, tangled in each other yet again, the silver bands glinting under the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the window, you knew; there was no one else for you but him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[tellydroid]

oop

[screampied]

do you have any gojo fic recs? sfw and nsfw but nothing else really specific, just in general <3

sure 🎀. i’ll mention some of my fav gojo works i’ve read so farr

laundry day by @satoruhour one of the first gojo fics i’ve read here when i joined tumblr and selineeeee never disappoints. her roommate! gojo is so SCRUMPTIOUS i highly recommend. miss u girlie !!!

older bf gojo! series by @sttoru READ THIS SERIES NOOWWWW. it has both sfw & nsfw n the dynamic always has me swooning. i’d also rec karina’s angst satoru fics if you like angst bc her angst is immaculate and heart wrenching. perfect combo mmh 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

brigerton! gojo series by @fushitoru VERY VERY GOOD this entire series feels like the actual show but better n its so descriptive with lots of yummy angst, plot twists n more. aashi has lots of delicious yummy works, i’d also rec her clan head! gojo and spiderman! gojo bc it’s actual literature >>>

unmistakably yours by @tonycries thisf and i think her fic called ‘initiation!’ were the first tony fics i’ve ever read last year ANDWEEEROO. just ssssoo good, love a good best friends to lovers trope. the part with his powers was so cool n actually changed something in me. GOOD FUCKING SHIT. ur panties will disintegrate

streamer gojo! series by @osaemu this entire series is so cute n streamer gojo’s so 💗💖💞. first fic i’ve read was ‘yes i have a girlfriend, yes she’s real!’ AND ITS SO CUTE. this series has both sfw & nsfw including angst YUM. plus sab’s graphics like always are a total 10. the chats always kill me, especially the toji slander 😭😭.

digimon—but making u cum is my real hobby by @blkkizzat LMAOOOO THIS FIC IS EVERYTHING TO ME. otaku gojo is such a loser and the way kali wrote him, i need him BAD. i’ve never laughed and throbbed so much at the same time in a fic. kali nails gojo’s personality perfectly !!! there’s also a mlist too i believe. i come back to this fic like every month just YUM

wolf in sheep’s clothing by @starmapz this has it all !!!! fluff, angst, smut and it’s just WOW. satoru’s so lovable, and it genuinely felt like i was watching a movie. i’ve read this in one sitting and UUUUGH everything about this fic >>>>

dying for your love by @staryukis I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED ZOMBIE! AU GOJO IN MY LIFE. this fic literally shattered me, the dynamic is just so heartbreaking. it’s set in an apocalypse au! with lots of gut-wrenching angst so beware. soso good, i remember stumbling upon the masterlist and knewww it was gonna be a good read. also, logan’s follow up fic ‘die with a smile’ broke me into two I LOVE IT

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Broken Angel

Warning ⚠️; blood, death, implied smut, a bit of French 🔞

Pairing; bottom!Lestat/top!Male!Reader

Summary; You witnessed Claudia and Louis dispose of Lestat’s body and decided to heal him. The beginning of the strangest and yet strongest relationship you ever had.

~~~~~~~~

It was a night like no other. The sky was clear, allowing you to admire the moon and stars while the breeze played with your coat and scarf. Through the mix of odours, you were able to smell the scents of vampires. You didn't expect to run into a coven, but as you were about to turn around and leave their territory, a new scent reached you; vampire blood.

It has been years since you witnessed a vampire being killed and wondered what had happened. Curiosity won over your sense of survival and you walked toward what you thought to be the crime scene.

What wasn't your surprise when hidden in the shadow, you saw a child and a man dispose of a body in the trash. Even from a distance, you could tell those three were vampires. You moved, slowly, making sure the wind wouldn't alert them of your presence. You wondered if there was a chance to save their victim. After all, if the body hadn't been burned, then there was a chance the poor man could survive.

But a vampire child? The thought horrified you. You never thought those could be created and who would do such a horrible thing? Being stuck in the body of a child for all eternity seemed like a curse to you and you would prefer the deadly embrace of the sun than to even live a minute like that.

You waited for the murderous duo to leave before approaching the trash. Once you were sure neither vampire would notice you, you walked up to their victim. You recognized the name almost instantly. Lestat de Lioncourt. Who wouldn't recognize that angelic face of his? You never met Lestat before, you being way older and more of a lone wolf, but you saw portraits of him.

You didn't hesitate before scooping Lestat out of the trash and carrying him away. The smell of his blood nauseated you in the worst way possible, reminding you of why you kept your distance from your kin. The constant fights and murders were too much for you. Even as a human, you witnessed your fair share of massacres and didn't want to see more.

You took Lestat to your place and laid him down in your coffin. You didn't clean him, no. Because the first thing you did was to feed Lestat. Opening your own wrist, you let your blood pour into Lestat’s mouth and gently massaged his throat to help him swallow. The effect didn't take time and you watched his wound slowly heal.

You have to hold him down as Lestat comes back to himself, trashing around in a panicked state. You can only watch as tears of blood roll down his cheeks and he claws at your arms. The fear and despair in those beautiful eyes are enough to soften your stone heart. You help him clean up in silence, bathing him and making sure all wounds are closed. It's a heavy and uncomfortable silence, yet you don't dare say anything.

Just like you heard of Lestat, he has heard of you. The lone wolf, a bloody vampire killer who had slaughtered many covens in his younger years. But now you avoid everything and everyone, preferring the calm that came with solitude.

Until Lestat came into your life.

And as the days pass, you hunt for the two of you since Lestat isn't in any shape to help. May it be mentally or physically, the younger vampire is useless. But you can't keep it against him. After all, it's his own mate and child who tried to murder him. When Lestat told you of what happened, you felt a shiver run down your spine and anger fill you. How dared they? How could they?

For some reason, you feel a wind of protectiveness toward Lestat. Maybe it's his angelic face, maybe it's the pain and grief in his eyes, but you can't resist the urge to keep him safe. Maybe that why Lestat stay by your side, even when he is completely healed and free to leave, Lestat stay with you. And as time passed, you two grew closer to each other.

You never had a mate or a coven but with Lestat, you found both. It was Lestat who did all the first steps, trying to win you over. He would hunt and catch your favourite kind of prey, find your favourite things and give them to you. Lestat was shameless as well, walking around you with nothing covering him but the blood of his latest victims hoping you would lick it.

Yes.

Lestat de Lioncourt was shameless and knew what he wanted; you. And you didn't have the strength to push him away.

You allowed him to share your coffin even if Lestat had his own, enjoying the weight of his body in your arms when you woke up. The way he nuzzled himself against you, nose buried in your neck and fang nibbling at the tender flesh. Lestat knew how to charm and win you over. And God be your witness because you did fall for him, hard.

You thought nothing could disturb your new-found peace, but of course, Lestat was a trouble magnet. It all started when Lestat decided to take you to France, then Paris even tho he knew how you hated being around other vampires. Yet he knew you would never tell him no. You couldn't deny anything to your shameless angel.

Except being among dozens and dozens of vampires.

- “I am sorry mon Ange, but I cannot follow you there.” You whispered against his lips. “I wish I could follow you and…”

- “Then. Do. It.” Lestat had cut you short, hands gripping your chemise and lips pressed against yours. “I need you by my side. I. Need. You. Who else will keep me safe?”

There it is. The manipulation, the words that can make you move mountains for that drama queen. Because he is right; who can keep him safe when he will have to face both of his murderers in a parody of a trial? But more importantly, who will be there for support when he witnesses their death? Because Claudia and Louis might have tried to murder him, Lestat still cared and loved them.

But not you, no. You were glad those two were going to suffer and face the consequences of their actions.

So you give in and follow, hating every second of it.

Your only pleasure is to see the pain and jealousy in Louis’ eyes as you sit in the luxurious chair and Lestat sit on your lap. Arms wrapped around your lover, you keep him against you and allow him to silently brag about taming you.

The trial is a joke, pathetic and boring. But those are theatrical vampires so of course they are making it extra for no reason. That is until Lestat actually save his former lover. You feel Lestat's tensing body and hear him use his powers, everything he had to save the very man who tried to kill him. It makes you angry until you see tears of blood in his eyes. The pain of the betrayal is still there, but those are vampires Lestat had loved with what was left of his heart and soul.

Then, Claudia’s death.

You had expected it and wished for it, but witnessing it changed everything. Seeing her small body convulse and twist in pain broke your stony heart. You felt despair as you saw how broken Lestat was, his eyes not leaving his daughter as she burned to death. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, whispered sweet words of comfort in his mind and made promises sweeter night and revenge.

And what a bloody revenge was it.

The whole Parisian coven gone, massacred by your very hands and those of Louis.

In the end, you stand behind Lestat as the coven’s theatre burns and you are left facing Louis and Armand. You can still see the jealousy in Louis’ eyes which makes you smile and kiss Lestat’s neck, who leans in your touch.

Lestat’s final goodbye to Louis sounds official like he has turned the page on their relationship, which makes you more than happy. Lestat is now fully yours and no one will ever take him away from you.

But as you reach your home, Lestat breaks in your arms. Tears of blood rolled down his porcelain cheeks. You can do nothing but hold him tightly, letting him grieve his daughter and lover. You know he regrets Claudia’s death, even if you don't, just like you know it will haunt him forever.

- “Cry mon ange brisé, cry and let it all out. Ta douleur est mienne, mon coeur et je suis désolé.” you whisper in his hair as you gently rock him.

You are sorry. Sorry he is so hurt and broken, something you know and understand. And as Lestat melted under your touch, you swore to protect him, swore that those tears are blood are the last one Lestat cried. Yes. You'll never let anyone break your angel.

[baisemains]

Elements of Desire

Chapter 10: In the Air

single mom!sevika x fem!reader

word count: 8k

contains: fluff, angst, slight mentions of past trauma, descriptions of an anxiety attack, hurt/comfort, mentions of medication

description: competition weekend has finally arrived, but the first day is already riddled with a series of uneasy experiences and unwelcome surprises.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

previous // sevika masterlist

Two months have flown by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it, it's the morning you're set to leave for the competition site. You woke up feeling well rested for once, but the nervous excitement that's been building up the last several weeks suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks. Your stomach is now churning with anticipation, butterflies and anxiety warring in the pit of your gut. Shaking your head, you remind yourself that Powder and you have done everything you can to prepare, and she’s going to do the best job she can. Thinking of the girl also brings thoughts of her mom and how the other woman is feeling.

Sevika never took you up on your offer to help her pay for the hotel and plane tickets because, unbeknownst to you, she borrowed the money from Vander instead. She'd never been one to easily accept assistance, even if it was from someone that she trusted. Her prideful tendencies have worked against her in the past, her stubbornness often leading to more headaches than it was worth. She felt that same stubborn pride in this situation, not wanting you to give her what she felt was a handout, even if she was going to pay it back. Vander didn't question it when she approached him about the situation, knowing that if Sevika was asking for help, she really needed it.

When you hear the knock on your front door, you rush to open it before your roommates can, wanting to avoid their teasing this early in the morning. Sevika stands on the other side, dressed casually with her hands in the pockets of her worn blue jeans. You can see that her hair is still damp from her shower and she looks as gorgeous as ever, tired eyes brightening the moment she catches sight of you. As she takes you in, her eyes rake over your form, gaze traveling south to the bag by your feet before it drags back up to your face accompanied by a shy smile.

"Morning."

Returning her grin tenfold, you close the distance and wrap your arms around her waist in a tight embrace, letting her warmth seep into your bones. You hear a content hum above you before strong limbs wrap around your neck, eventually pulling away and leaving you to stare into expressive grey eyes. Sevika's hands slide to the sides of your neck, her thumbs rubbing gentle circles under your jaw in an affectionate manner.

“Sorry we’re a little late, I was…having a hard time saying bye to Isha before we left.”

Your eyes take in the way the other woman’s hold a sad appearance to them, rubbing her back gently as she explains.

“I’ve never spent more than a night apart from her, and that’s only when the girls sleep over Vander and Silco’s across town. I almost brought her to drop us off, but I don’t know if I would’ve been able to leave if I did.”

“That makes sense,” you whisper, seeing how affected Sevika is by having to leave her youngest behind. You already knew how amazing of a mom she was, but the more she drops her guard around you, the more you can feel yourself falling for her.

“Anyways,” the older woman clears her throat, slightly embarrassed at how vulnerable she just was, "You all set to go?"

Nodding once, you grab your carry-on and backpack and drag them over the threshold, turning back to lock the front door before following Sevika to the truck parked along the curb.

“Powder would’ve come down to grab you too, but she knocked out as soon as we left the house.”

A slight pout settles on your lips when you think about how exhausted the girl must be. Once you're close enough to see the shape sitting in the driver's seat, the passenger window rolls down to reveal none other than Vander. He quickly looks you both up and down before giving you a subtle wink.

"Well, don't you two look cozy this morning."

Warmth begins to spread onto your cheeks as you gear up a reply, ignoring the knowing glance he sends your way.

"Good to see you again, Vander. Sorry I've been too busy for poker night, I've really missed making easy money."

The man guffaws before hopping out and rounding the truck to help you with your luggage, hoisting it up and gently placing it in the bed.

"When you all get back from your trip, we're going to have to find a night for a rematch. Silco hasn't let me live it down since."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you let him know just how annoying that was."

Sevika's tone is dry and she rolls her eyes when he shoots her a cheeky grin, and you can see the subtle banter for what it is; a sign of familiarity and affection. She opens the back door for you to slide into, feeling the tingles spread up her arm when you gently brush her hand over hers.

The other woman snickers to herself as she climbs up into her seat, listening to the two of you continue to go back and forth with a slight shake of her head. She can't keep the warm smile off of her face though, the sight of your friendly relationship with one of her oldest buddies making her heart do back flips. Sevika cracks a window as you all begin your journey to the airport, spring leading towards summer and bathing the car with a comfortable breeze.

An hour later, the group of you arrive, Vander pulling into the drop off lane and causing Powder to finally wake up.

Rubbing her eyes, she mumbles, “Where are we?”

"Airport, sleepyhead."

Vander glances back at the teenager in the back seat, amused as she slowly shakes off the grogginess and focuses on her surroundings, confusion still clouding her expression as she processes where they are.

"Why are we..."

Powder's question dies on her lips as she finally turns around and sees you, the events of the morning suddenly clicking in her sleep-addled mind. Her drowsy expression is quickly replaced by excitement as her head perks up, wrapping you in a tight hug and squealing into your ear.

Sevika's lips twitch into a half smirk and she shakes her head, amused by her daughter's enthusiasm. "Easy, Powder. No need to bust any eardrums."

Powder's grip on you tightens briefly before she reluctantly peels herself off, sitting back in her seat. "Oops, sorry."

"It's alright, kiddo. I'm happy someone's excited about getting on a plane." Sevika reaches over and tousles her hair affectionately, earning a huff and a whine as the girl tries to fix her locks into an acceptable manner. Hopping down from the front seat, Sevika opens the back door to let you and Powder out while Vander begins grabbing the luggage from the back.

It doesn't take long for the group of you to make it inside, and the sound of hundreds of conversations fills the air, the noise of people chatting mixing with the overhead announcements. Powder’s eyes are wide as she takes in the busy environment, her neck craning in all directions as she tries to observe everything all at once. Sevika places a steadying hand on her back in an attempt to keep her from wandering off.

"Well, I should leave you all here, don't want to get a ticket for leaving the truck by itself," Vander announces.

"Probably a good idea."

Sevika nods her head in agreement, amused by Powder's awed expression as she looks around.

"We'll text you when we land. Thank you again for the ride."

Sevika gives Vander a firm hug, the both of them separating after a moment to mirror a rigid nod of their heads before stepping back. Powder throws her arms around the man next, telling him she'll send every update about the competition she can. When they pull apart, Vander pulls you into an unexpected embrace, slightly lifting you off of the ground, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. You hear Sevika call out "Vander, be careful!" behind you before he gently places you back on the ground, laughing at your reaction.

"What can I say? I like to keep people on their toes."

Winking in a playful manner, he claps a hand on your shoulder before looking at Sevika. A silent conversation transpires between them as each of them assess the other's expression. Whatever is communicated must leave them satisfied, because after a split second, he pats her on the arm and sends her a small smile. "Keep an eye out for trouble, yeah?"

Sevika's lips quirk up into a smirk, a familiar look crossing her face. "I always do. You watch yourself."

Vander huffs a laugh at the sight of it, giving her a lazy salute before turning away to head back towards his truck with one last wave. Sevika stares after him until he reaches the door before spinning around to you and Powder, her smile softening.

"Let's do this, then."

The three of you make your way to the security line, breezing through as you all brought carry-ons to make the process easier. Once on the other side, you quickly find your gate and settle into the first empty seats you find. Powder plops onto one of the waiting chairs, letting out a sigh of relief as she pops in her earbuds and pulls her phone out to start playing a game. You take your seat next to her, and Sevika takes the space to your right, her leg pressed against yours as you all get comfortable.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Sevika questions, loud enough for only you to hear.

Looking up after taking your phone out to look at the time, you shake your head. "No, not yet. I didn't want to get up any earlier than I had to."

Sevika hums sympathetically and reaches into her bag, pulling out a package of small muffins. "Well, you should probably eat something then. I don't want to deal with you fainting halfway there."

You can't help but let out a snort at the comment, even more amused by the fact that she's already so aware of your habits. "You're one to talk, you act like you run on coffee and pure adrenaline half the time."

"Touché."

She smirks and bumps her shoulder into yours in retaliation as you open up the muffin. A comfortable silence sets over the group as everyone gets lost into their own thoughts; the only noise coming from the occasional announcement and Powder sighing. You're snapped out of your daze when Sevika shifts next to you, her shoulder and leg pressing more firmly against your own. You look over at her curiously, only to see a slightly nervous expression adorning her features as she eyes Powder. The younger girl is oblivious to the looks, still intently focused on her game, and it piques your curiosity even more when Sevika leans closer.

"Hey, um, have you," the other woman takes a deep breath before continuing, making you a bit nervous, "ever been on a plane before?"

Your eyebrows raise as you process her words, taken aback by the random question. "Yeah, a few times." Your mind swirls with curiosity, wondering what the woman is leading up to. "Have you?"

"Never." She responds simply, fidgeting with something in her pocket. Your intrigue heightens as she looks away, now nervous and on edge. You watch the way her eyes flick back to Powder, the teenager completely oblivious to the conversation taking place right next to her as she continues to focus on her phone. She looks like she wants to say something else but is hesitating.

"Neither of us have, and I know Powder is excited about it, but to be honest, just the thought terrifies me. I keep thinking about the fact that we could just fall out of the sky."

Suddenly, understanding clicks in your mind and you can't help but reach out and touch the hand in her lap, the action causing Sevika to finally look you in the face. You give her palm a reassuring squeeze, trying to convey an air of comfort. "The chances of that happening are so incredibly rare, we're going to be okay."

The older woman tries nodding her head but the bouncing of her leg gives her away. "I know, I just–", she clears her throat in an attempt to stabilize her voice, "If something happened to me, the girls, they– they shouldn't have to go through that again."

The sight of her so vulnerable and uncertain causes your heart to clench, a flood of protectiveness washing over you. You scoot closer and gently tug on one of her wrists until your hands intertwine. "Hey," you start softly, waiting for her to look at you before continuing, "nothing is going to happen to you. Or Powder. We're going to get there just fine, I promise."

Before you can ask her what she meant by 'again', your group is called to begin boarding and Sevika pops up from her seat, nervously at attention. She grabs her bags and taps Powder on the shoulder, gesturing her head towards the ticket counter to start moving.

You make your way forward as the line in front of you moves slowly, stealing furtive glances at Sevika every so often. There's a stiffness to her shoulders that betrays her calm facade, and you can see her hands clenching and unclenching as she walks. Powder, for the most part, remains oblivious to her mother's uneasiness, her attention completely absorbed by the planes on the tarmac and blissfully ignoring the world around her.

After what feels like forever, you reach the front of the line and the person checking tickets scans all three with no issue, sending you down the tunnel towards the plane. Sevika's doing a good job of concealing her anxiety, but because you know what to look for, you keep an eye on her the entire walk down.

You can see the tension in her steps, her shoulders still held taut, and her grip on the handle of her carry on tight. Her gaze darts about, observing the people around her with hyper focus, and it's starting to set you on edge. You want to reach out to her again, try to ease some of the tension, but the bustle of the crowd makes you hesitant to attract any further attention.

Powder, on the other hand, is still completely unaware, eyes wide with excitement as she takes in the whole environment. She looks like an over excited puppy, her head moving back and forth so fast you think you get whiplash just by watching her. You can at least take comfort in the fact that she doesn't seem to be picking up on the anxiousness radiating off of her mother.

When you finally board the plane, you're all seated together as Sevika paid to have the spots next to you, fearing this exact scenario would happen. Powder takes the window seat, wanting to see everything she can, which leaves you sandwiched between her and Sevika next to the aisle. The older woman drops her backpack under the chair and puts her carry-on in the overhead compartment before grabbing yours and Powder's and sliding them next to hers.

Rolling her shoulders, she settles into her seat and tries to get comfortable. You watch as her jaw tenses and her leg starts bouncing again, eyes darting out all around the plane as if watching for threats. Once everyone is boarded, the captain begins speaking overhead, going through the safety protocols and what to do in the event of an emergency. This only causes Sevika's anxiety to spike, leaning her head back against the seat and taking deep breaths as she closes her eyes.

She's doing an almost convincing job pretending she's fine, but you can see through it, her leg bouncing even faster now and her fingers tapping out a rapid rhythm in her lap. You can see a muscle in her jaw clenching and unclenching, trying to will herself to remain steady and collected. You wish you could do something, anything to help her, but until the plane takes off, your options are limited.

As the plane jolts into motion and begins rumbling, you slide your hand into hers and whisper for her to squeeze as much as she needs. She startles slightly at the contact but responds immediately, lacing your fingers together with hers tightly. Her grip is almost bruising but you don't pull away, trying to show that you're not going to let go. As the plane moves down the tarmac to take off, she takes a shuddering breath, the anxiety in her spiking immensely.

Leaning in close so only she can hear, you begin to whisper words of encouragement in hopes it will help. "Hey, focus on the sound of my voice, okay? Everything is going to be okay, I'm right here with you, I'll be here the whole time."

Her breathing gradually slows, eyes still screwed shut as she tries to concentrate on your words. Her hand is still clamped around yours like a vice, your fingers beginning to tingle from the lack of circulation.

"Keep talking, please."

You nod even though she can't see you and keep whispering reassurances, continuing to rub soothing circles into her hand. "You're okay, you're gonna get through this. We're all gonna be fine, I swear, nothing is going to happen to us. Just keep taking some deep breaths, okay? I'll even do it with you. Ready?"

You place your free hand on her forearm gently in hopes of grounding her to you.

"Inhale, one, two, three," you hold your breath as Sevika does what you tell her, "Exhale, one, two, three." Repeating the process as the plane pulls up and climbs higher and higher into the sky, Sevika's grip doesn't waver but you see the crease between her brows lessen bit by bit.

When the aircraft reaches a safe height, the pilot announces to the plane that passengers may begin to roam around the cabin, to which Sevika immediately unbuckles herself and quickly stands up.

"Be right back."

You nod, watching as she disappears into the small bathroom a few rows behind you and hoping you were able to help her even a little bit. In her absence, Powder turns to look at you, a curious yet concerned expression on her face.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, I think she just needed to use the bathroom, she should be back soon."

Powder accepts your explanation with a small smile, plugging her earbuds back in and taking photos out of the window.

After a few minutes, you realize Sevika still hasn't returned, so you turn around to look down the aisle and see if you can catch a glimpse of her. There's no sign of the woman, and with a slight sense of unease, you make a split second decision, gently touching Powder on the shoulder.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check on your mom, okay? You stay here and I'll be right back."

After the girl gives you a quick thumbs up before going back to her phone, you get up from your seat and make your way to the bathroom, gently knocking on the door and softly calling, "Sevika? It's me, can I come in?"

After a beat of silence, you hear her voice respond, sounding much weaker than usual, and then a click of the lock.

"Yeah."

When you push the door open and walk inside, you find her with her back to you. She's bracing against the sink with her head hanging low, hair hiding her face from view and shoulders tensed.

Being careful to approach the subject, you close the door behind you and make sure not to touch her before you ask, "How are you feeling?"

A wry laugh escapes her lips, and you wince at the sound.

"Tired, honestly. Freaked out. But mostly embarrassed."

You shake your head, stepping closer and standing directly next to her, not saying anything and just letting her speak.

"I know it's ridiculous. I just didn’t expect it to be so…intense."

Sevika finally turns to face you, leaning back against the sink, and you're suddenly struck by how tired and worn down she looks.

That finally gets you to speak up.

"Hey, it's not ridiculous. I'm not going to pry, but this seemed like something else, not a regular fear of flying. Are you going to be okay the rest of the flight? I might have some Benadryl you can take to sleep through it."

Sevika shakes her head, not wanting to cause you any more trouble. "No, no, that's– you've done enough, thank you. I..." She trails off before locking eyes with you, her glossy ones staring into your concerned ones. "Can you just…hold me? For a bit?"

Your expression softens at the request, the desire to help the woman outweighing any other thought in your mind. "Yeah, of course."

Slowly reaching out and wrapping your arms around her neck, you pull her tightly against your chest and rest your chin atop her head, feeling the subtle tremors shaking her body.

"I'm here, I've got you."

Her arms wrap around your midsection, hands bunching the fabric of your shirt as she takes deep breaths, inhaling your scent and letting it soothe her nerves.

A few minutes later, Sevika leans back and looks up at you with an expression like you hung the moon in the sky. You reach out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear affectionately, the tender moment causing your heart to skip a beat when she leans her head into the touch.

"Feeling better?"

She gives you a small smile before nodding, the grip on your shirt slackening as she straightens up. "Yeah. I think so."

"Good."

You barely take half a step back before she's pulling you back to her for what you assume is another hug, before feeling a pair of unbelievably soft lips cover your own. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, breathing into the minimal space between you as your mouths slide together in a gentle dance.

The kiss is chaste and sweet, lasting for only a few seconds before breaking apart, a small gasp falling from both of your lips as you look at one another. Sevika's arms remain around your waist, not willing to let go just yet, and her eyes search your face almost reverently, like you're the only thing anchoring her to Earth.

"Thank you. For everything, I...don't think I could've gotten through this without you, honestly."

You pull her closer with a soft smile, gently rubbing your nose against hers.

"I'd do it again if I had to." There's no hesitation in your voice, and you mean every word. "Now, c'mon, Powder's gonna start to worry if we're gone any longer."

Sevika rolls her eyes with a hint of fondness, giving your waist a squeeze before finally relinquishing her grip.

"She’s probably too into her game to realize how long it’s been."

"Yeah, you're right."

You move back and make sure you look presentable before unlocking the door and leading the way back into the aisle. Sevika falls in line beside you, and even if her steps are still a bit unsteady, she looks infinitely better than her state just minutes before.

When you reach your seats, you notice that Powder never even looked up from her phone and you can't help but shake your head fondly and suppress a small laugh. Sevika catches your gaze and quirks an eyebrow, looking almost like her old self as she murmurs, "See? Told you she wouldn't notice."

As the two of you settle in, Sevika silently slips her hand into yours before leaning her head back against the seat and letting her eyes droop shut, exhaustion finally getting the best of her. Not wanting to do anything that could possibly disturb her, you settle into your seat and watch as her breathing eventually evens out, the lines of tension on her face finally smoothing out as she relaxes in her sleep. You gently brush her knuckles with your thumb as the faint sound of the engines continues and the aircraft rumbles on, time slipping by and bringing you ever closer to your destination.

Minutes begin to pass, and you can't help but start feeling sleepy yourself. The stress of the day begins to catch up to you and the steady movement of the plane combined with the warm, comfortable feeling of Sevika's hand in yours makes it almost impossible to keep your eyes open. Before you can stop yourself, you find your head tipping to the side and resting on the other woman's shoulder, her warmth against your face and the rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths lulling you into the most peaceful rest you've had in ages.

A while later, you slowly begin to stir, shifting against the seat and subconsciously clinging to the fingers still in your grasp. Your eyes flutter open, bleary with sleep, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that your head is still on Sevika's shoulder, the two of you still holding hands. When the captain begins telling the plane that you'll all be at your destination soon, you perk up and start stretching before sitting back against your headrest.

The familiar rumble of engines almost lulls you back into a nap, but you feel the shoulder under your head move and look up to find Sevika watching you with a small smirk.

"You're actually pretty cute when you sleep, you know that?"

Heat immediately rushes to your face, and you pull yourself upright with a huff, trying to save some of your pride.

"And how long were you watching me, creep?"

She lets out a soft, short laugh, her eyes glimmering with slight mischief. "Not long, I promise."

You eye her skeptically and she relents after a few beats, holding her hands up innocently. "Maybe a few minutes."

A minute shake of your head and a quiet hmph is the only response you give Sevika, opting instead to check your phone and see if you have any service yet.

She doesn't say anything else, leaning back in her seat, silently amused by your reaction as a small smile graces her features. You can feel her gaze occasionally flick over to you, but every time you look at her with a quirked brow, Sevika quickly averts her eyes.

Your phone suddenly makes a familiar sound when it finally connects, and you see several notifications pop up on your screen. Seeing emails from the organization about check in, you begin to go through them, ignoring everything else until you feel the plane begin to descend and Sevika's hand shoots out to engulf yours.

Looking up at her, she's giving you a small smile, a silent plea for reassurance, and you immediately give her your full attention, covering her hand with your second one, rubbing over her knuckles with a soothing touch. She does much better during the landing, only squeezing your hand painfully once when the plane bounces as the wheels touch down.

Once you all pull up to the gate, she sighs deeply, finally accepting that the most anxiety inducing part of this journey is over. You turn to your side to gently wake Powder up, laughing to yourself that the girl has managed to fall asleep during her first plane ride ever. Once she jolts awake, you tell her to relax and inform her of the process of de-boarding, knowing it'll be a bit before you're allowed to stand up and grab your luggage.

Your turn arrives a few minutes later, Sevika shooting up and grabbing all three carry-ons from overhead and passing them to you. She quickly leads the three of you off of the plane, telling the flight crew thank you as she practically sprints down the tunnel to the main waiting area. You all step in the direction of the escalator and make your way towards the pick up area of the airport, Powder skipping next to you as she chatters away excitedly about the experience. Sevika lags behind a bit, but you can see the way her shoulders slowly relax once she's on solid, unmoving ground again.

Looking out for the shuttle the competition has allotted for participants, it doesn't take long to spot the vehicle amidst the taxis and regular cars, the sign on the outside displaying the event name clearly enough to see. You all approach and get settled in, Powder immediately taking a seat by the window, her enthusiasm contagious as she presses her face to the glass. Sevika sits down next to her, giving you another smile, this one brighter than the others since she now feels much more comfortable than earlier.

A couple more families board in the next few minutes, Powder eyeing the children warily before you introduce yourself and your group, not wanting there to be any awkward tension during the drive. On the journey there, conversation flows a bit more easily, Sevika joining occasionally, not wanting to seem standoffish to the other parents.

Once you reach your destination, everyone exits the vehicle in awe, the sheer size of the hotel capturing everyone's attention. Leading the other woman and teenager to the lobby, you begin to check in first, Sevika getting waved over to another employee. After you're both given your room numbers and keys, you all walk over to the elevator and enter the metal box, excitement beginning to brew in your stomachs.

"What room are you guys in?" You question, peeping over Sevika's shoulder at the fancy card sleeve in her hand.

"303?"

"Oh, I'm in 305! Just down the hall, what a coincidence."

"Seems like we got lucky."

You grin at the woman and turn to Powder, who's currently bouncing on her toes at the thought of finally getting to see the inside of the their room.

"You ready to see your digs for the weekend?"

Powder nods and practically bounces in place, her energy reaching a whole new level. You giggle at the teenager, her energy is so infectious that it momentarily distracts you from your nerves. The elevator finally dings on the third floor and you step out, following the signs on the wall until eventually reaching the section of your rooms. Sevika gets her own key out and unlocks her door, pushing it open to reveal an elegant looking room, complete with a large queen bed, a desk in the corner, a small kitchen, and a gorgeous bathroom.

The woman is slack-jawed as she takes in her new surroundings, suddenly glad she decided to book this hotel instead of one of the further, cheaper ones. Powder immediately takes off towards the bed, jumping up to land on the soft sheets before Sevika catches her mid air and sets her back down on the floor.

"Plane clothes, Pow, ugh. Shower first, then you can lay on it."

The girl giggles before nodding at her mom.

"Oh yeah, forgot about that."

She takes her carry on to the corner of the room before laying it down and popping it open, grabbing her toiletries and a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom. Once the door is locked and you hear the water turn on, Sevika turns to you and begins slowly making her way over, grabbing your hand with both of hers and lazily playing with it.

You lean against the wall and watch her with a curious smile, the sight of her being so relaxed putting you at ease. She looks into your eyes with that same fond look from the plane, leaning in until her body pins you to the wall gently.

"I have a question," she says softly, placing a hand on your hip.

Your heart skips slightly at the contact and you arch a brow, giving her your full attention. "Shoot."

She pauses, looking you over again as if to make sure it's okay to say what comes next. You hold her gaze, silently reassuring her.

"I know we're here for the competition, but..." Sevika continues, her thumb now rubbing over the fabric of your shirt. "You're gonna have some free time, right?"

Cocking your head slightly, your eyes rake over Sevika’s face before you respond. "Free time how? Like, to spend with you?"

"Yeah," she breathes, her hand on your hip tightening just a bit as she presses just a few millimeters closer. "I know you're going to be busy most of the time but..." She trails off, the nerves she felt earlier returning as she struggles to find her words.

"I don't know, it was just something on my mind," she shrugs, searching your eyes for even an ounce of rejection.

You have to suppress the urge to squeal, the vulnerable look in her eye pulling at your heart strings. "Yeah, I can definitely carve out some space in my schedule for you."

The tension drains from Sevika’s body almost instantly, something that seems to be a constant pattern between the two of you. She lets out a small huff of a laugh and rolls her eyes, trying to cover up the amount of relief she's feeling.

"You don't have to sound so excited." There's a teasing grin on her face, letting you know she's kidding.

You laugh in return and now roll your eyes, pretending to be affronted.

"You're right, how silly of me," you say, the sarcasm oozing from your voice, "Who wouldn't want to spend all their free time with the biggest grump in the world?"

She lets out a gasp, mock-affronted. "Hey, I am not grumpy!" The other woman’s hand shoots out to pinch your side in retaliation.

You laugh at the action, smacking her hand away playfully.

"You so are, always so broody," you tease, lightly pinching her bicep in return.

"I'm not broody," she retorts, "I'm just...introspective." You snort and squint your eyes, the sound causing her to huff and reach out to pinch you again. Quickly evading the attack, you catch her hand and pin it against her side to keep from any more surprise assaults. This puts her in close proximity again, and you can see the way her gaze locks onto your mouth for a fraction of a second before her eyes snap back up to yours.

There's a beat of silence, the two of you standing close enough to feel each other's breath. Sevika opens her mouth like she's getting ready to say something, but before she gets the chance, the sound of the shower turning off reaches your ears and Sevika takes a half step back, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"Guess Powder's done."

You pull back your own hand reluctantly, missing the feeling of her skin immediately. "Yeah, guess so," you say, trying to sound casual and hoping your voice doesn't give away how affected you are.

Standing up straight, you pull your phone out to check the time, seeing that there's a couple of hours before the first event. "The welcome banquet starts at five, so I should head to my room and unpack first."

The disappointment is obvious on her face, even if only for a moment, but she tries to cover it up by putting on a nonchalant expression and nodding.

"Yeah, right," she pauses, almost as if she was about to say something else, but just takes a deep breath instead. "I guess...I'll see you at dinner, then," she says, giving you a half smile.

You match her expression before hesitating a moment, opting to go with your first instinct and lean in for a quick kiss. Her mouth immediately relaxes beneath yours and she leans forward into it, wanting the contact as much as you do. When you finally pull back, her eyes are shut and it takes a few seconds before she opens them slowly, breathing slightly more labored than usual. Her lips form a small grin and she nudges her nose against yours briefly, making contact one last time before fully pulling away.

"Get out of here before you get me in trouble."

Biting your tongue at her remark, you shake your head with a quick laugh and slip out from under her, grabbing your carry-on and heading to the door.

"I'll come get you two a little bit early so we can all walk down together, okay?"

Sevika gives a small nod in affirmation, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, sounds like a plan." She looks like she's itching to pull you back into her space, but manages to refrain herself, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep from doing so.

You linger for a few more moments, savoring the sight of the other woman before reluctantly tearing your eyes away and exiting the room. She watches you the whole time, shutting the door once you fully exit into the hallway. You walk the rest of the way to your own room in a daze, a little thrill of anticipation going up your spine at the thought of the night to come.

After a shower of your own, you unpack a bit and set aside your outfit for the evening. The dress code for dinner was cocktail attire, and though you didn't own anything exactly fitting for that, you managed to scrounge together something acceptable from your closet. Doing one last check in the full length mirror by the door, you deem the look worthy and head out into the hallway.

Making your way to Sevika's room, you lift your hand to the wooden door and give it a few raps. It swings open a few moments later to reveal the other woman, her gaze sweeping over you and eyes noticeably widening. Her hair is freshly combed and she's changed into a white dress shirt tucked into slim fitting navy slacks, the first two buttons of her top undone to show off the supple skin of her neck and collarbones.

"Hey." she says, her eyes still trailing over your figure, "You look...really good."

You can't help the warmth that immediately rises to your cheeks at the compliment, her gaze causing a bit of heat to begin blooming in your stomach.

"Thanks," you manage to reply, your eyes roaming over her form as well, the tight shirt clinging to her figure and showing off her physique perfectly. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Get a room already!" a voice suddenly yells from the back of the room.

Peering past Sevika, you see Powder sitting on the bed laughing to herself while looking at her phone. Before Sevika manages to scold her, she flips the device around and you can faintly make out a tuft of red hair on the screen. "Vi says hi, by the way."

You can't hold back a laugh at that, amused by Powder's antics. "Hi Vi," you reply back with a grin.

Sevika just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at her middle child. "Don't make me take your phone."

That quiets Powder right away, telling Vi they've got to leave and that she'll call her later. Locking the phone and putting it in her purse, she hops off the bed and makes her way over to the pair of you. Sevika looks over at her daughter as she approaches, giving her an amused look.

"Ready to go?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Powder nods, slinging her small bag over her shoulder. "Yeah, I'm starving."

"Well, then what are we waiting for?"

Grabbing her matching navy suit jacket from beside her and slipping it on, Sevika steps out of the way for Powder to walk through, shooting you a small wink when the girl isn’t looking.

Once in the hallway, she falls in step beside you, shoulders squared and looking every bit as confident as you've ever seen her. Knowing how important it is to make a good impression on the committee members, and even the other parents, she's determined to put her best self forward. Entering the elevator to head to the lobby, all you can think about is how lucky you are to know such an amazing woman.

As the seconds tick by, there's just the faintest hint of nerves in the other woman's stance, fingers lightly drumming against her thigh. You discreetly brush your pinkie against hers, hoping the small gesture will give her some reassurance, and you softly bite your bottom lip when she intertwines it with her own.

Soon after, the elevator dings, signaling you've reached the lobby. You step out and head towards the banquet hall, hearing the soft sounds of conversation and the clink of glasses coming from the large room. There are quite a few people from other districts already gathering, all dressed appropriately and beginning to mingle. Sevika's stride slows slightly as she takes in the scene, her eyes sweeping over the room in a way that can only be interpreted as calculating.

There are easily a hundred people already in the room, undoubtedly not everyone who will be attending. When you see the way the other woman is observing the crowd, you lean in to tell her and Powder, "Let's go find our table, yeah?"

Quickly checking the email on your phone, you see the number you've been assigned and head in that direction. Coming upon the right one, you begin to set your things down, looking around the room for the rest of your party. Finding who you're looking for a few seconds later, a bright smile blooms on your face as you walk towards the approaching trio.

"You guys made it!"

Ekko matches your grin before engulfing you in a bone crushing hug. After the boy releases you, you greet his parents with less intense embraces as he notices that Powder and Sevika are also standing there.

"Um, hi Powder."

The two teenagers stare at each other before deciding to share a brief hug, awkwardly shuffling on their feet before Sevika reaches a hand out in Ekko's direction.

"It's good to finally meet you, Ekko. I’m Sevika, Powder’s mom."

He takes the woman's hand in a firm grip, giving it a sturdy shake.

"Likewise ma'am," he says with a confident smile, releasing her hand before standing up straight.

Powder's entire demeanor is a stark comparison to Ekko's, her entire body language shy and reserved. Ekko seems to pick up on this right away, his own smile turning into a kind, almost protective one.

His parents come over a moment later and introduce themselves to Sevika and Powder, chatting about how amazing it is that each of their children made it this far. All of you converse amongst each other for a few moments, the parents expressing their excitement and pride. Soon enough, the sound of a microphone being adjusted breaks up the conversation, catching everyone's attention as you all turn to look towards the front of the hall.

"Good evening everyone, I hope you've all had a pleasant journey to be with us here tonight. I am the president of the fair's board..."

The man continues to speak about how excited all of the committee members are to witness the presentations this weekend, setting an animated atmosphere amongst the room. When he concludes his speech a few minutes later, he welcomes everyone to take their seats as dinner will be served shortly.

The room is quickly filled with the scraping and scuffing of chairs against tile as everyone finds their assigned places, the buzz of excitement for the food palpable. You all sit down and begin waiting patiently, your stomach beginning to grumble slightly at the thought of eating. The sound doesn't escape Sevika's ear, and you see her lip quirk upward in a subtle smirk out of the corner of your eye.

The six of you continue to talk across the table as servers begin bringing plates out, being served a short while later. Dinner is delicious, and Sevika and Ekko's parents get along quite well, much to your relief. Glancing to the side, you see Powder and Ekko engrossed in a private conversation, animated facial expressions and boisterous laughter spilling over to the adults' discussions. You realize that this is what it’s all about; no matter the results of this weekend, these are the memories that the kids will carry with them for the rest of their lives.

Once the meal has concluded, the reception begins, the music turning to something a bit more upbeat but still family friendly. After a short while, Ekko stands up and looks toward Powder, an almost goofy grin on his face.

"Wanna dance?" He asks, and after only brief hesitation, Powder nods lightly and stands, flashing a small look to her mom.

Sevika gives an encouraging nod, and just like that, the two teenagers are off towards the small dance floor. The adults watch them go before returning to their conversations, though you notice the woman’s gaze following them closely. Lightly nudging Sevika's hand with yours under the table, you wait until she makes eye contact with you before speaking.

"She's okay. I promise."

She maintains your gaze for a moment before nodding, letting out a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding and forcing the worry from her gaze.

"I know, I know," she mutters, reaching up to rub some of the tension out of her neck. "Realistically, I know she's fine. But the mom part of my brain just won't shut up about it."

At that, you can't help but smile softly and reach over to give her a gentle squeeze on the knee.

"That's completely understandable. Looks like she's having fun though."

Sevika looks back towards where the teenagers are and sees her daughter laughing as Ekko spins her around, the two of them clearly enjoying themselves. It makes the tension in her shoulders loosen even more and she lets out another deep sigh, the tiniest smile pulling at her lips.

"Yeah, she is."

About a half hour later, the event comes to an end, and the president from earlier grabs the mic once again.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight. We are wishing all of our participants the best of luck this weekend, and we look forward to seeing what you have to show us. For the students, we are going to have a more official 'prom' style dance for two hours in the next room if you'd like to move there, with your parent's permission of course."

As the teenagers make their way back to your table, the adults all stand up and begin grabbing their things before Ekko and Powder ask to go to that party. You see a bit of wariness flash across Sevika's face as she looks down at her daughter, clearly conflicted. After pausing for a moment, a tight smile appears and she sighs.

"Alright, you can go. Just be safe, okay? No wandering off by yourself, stick together."

Right when you look at Powder to give her a thumbs up, a figure behind her captures your attention.

"Genevieve?"

The girl in mention freezes and slowly turns around, jaw dropped and wide eyed. The beginning of tears begin to well in your eyes, the little girl you once knew now standing before you, a young woman.

"What are you doing here, how–"

Your heart begins to hammer in your chest as the initial shock wears off and you realize what this means. If she's here, then...

"Well, well, well. What's that old saying? 'Speak of the devil and she shall appear?'"

Focusing your eyes to the side, you finally see the person you've been dreading running into for years, the reason you moved away to start a new life, the cause of your miscommunication with Sevika.

A wicked smile stretched across her lips, the woman takes a step forward as you take one back, willing yourself to wake up from whatever horrible nightmare this is.

Gert.

taglist! @daughterofthemoons-stuff @vii-v @runawaybaby3 @ferxanda @sevikas-whore @vikashoneybee @sleepingwasp @savedforlaterr @lia-winther @bebadoobie @nymanas @dyketoast

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

As if I wasn't already exhausted enough this morning...

It's been brought to my attention that people are taking my fanfics, editing them, and sharing them around. I don't have the words to describe how not okay this is. If you don't like something about my fanfic, then I'm sorry to hear that, but there are a lot of other fics out there you can read instead.

I put time and effort and care into my writing, as does every writer. To take my work without permission and change it feels like someone just punched me in the gut. Frankly it makes me not want to share my work at all and to take down all the writing I do have up, because why should I share anything with people if all they're going to do is decide it's not good enough and they're going to do what they want with it and make it "better"?

And before anyone comes at me, this is not what a transformative work does. This is not the same as fanfiction. I'm fucking exhausted from working two eleven hour shifts over the weekend so my brain is not working so someone smarter and more articulate than I am can explain why. I'm tired.

This genuinely makes me want to take down all my works and not share anything new. It's very simple, kiddos: Don't like it? Don't read it. You will miss out on some fanfics that way, just like you'll miss out on some films, or books, or TV shows. I've missed out on really good fic, novels, films, etc, for the same reason. We all do. It's a part of life. Stuff will sometimes have things in it that you don't like. Skim those parts, fast-forward those scenes, grin and bear it, or just go and read/watch something else.

Normally I would make this post unrebloggable but I worry other writers in this fandom might experience the same thing and not realize it. So people are welcome to reblog this. Anyone who's an ass on it will be blocked, no second chances.

Just. Don't do this guys. Holy shit don't do this. What the actual fuck.

[writtenbyan-aries]

when is the last part for that colby babysitter coming out girl im impatient more like excited damn

Cravings Between Us

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR [final]

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mature confrontation, kissing, biting, scratching, hair pulling, oral (both), unprotected sex, creampie, general filth

Word Count: 2.8k | unedited

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

As your phone lit up with a call from Colby, there was a knock on your door.

You had their kids, so you couldn’t run and hide. You took a deep breath, walking over to the door and opened it.

You didn’t say anything, what could you say, really?

Vanessa just stares at you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was going to, last night when you came over. But then you beat me to the punch saying what you said.” You swallow, “It probably doesn’t mean anything, but I really am sorry, Vanessa.”

She shakes her head, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

You pull your head back slightly, “What? I’m sorry, I don’t-“

“Can I come in so we can talk?”

You motion, “Vera just went down for a nap. Caden is about ready to take one.” She nods, “That’s fine, gives us time to talk about everything.”

You were waiting for a slap to the face, her rage to get the best of her, something.

You stay silent, waiting for her to start the conversation because you honestly have no words, no clue on even what to say.

“So, let’s just, I guess, address the elephant in the room, shall we?” She looks at you as she sits down on the chair by your counter and you nod once.

“So you slept with my husband.”

“I did.” You feel a chill run over your body, “and again, I’m so-“

“Stop, saying sorry. You should be saying you’re welcome, because I need to thank you.”

You laugh, “Sorry.” You shake your head, pressing your lips together, “That’s not, funny. I shouldn’t be laughing, uh, what.. exactly do you mean you should be thanking me?”

She takes a deep breath, “I didn’t want to accept it, at first, but our marriage was over a few months after me having Vera.” She looks out of the small kitchen window and sighs, “I love Colby, he’s the father of my children, but I guess I’m not.. in love with him.”

“I, um. I tried getting him to talk to me. The night you came home. I asked him if you guys were okay, and he said he something about wanting to be, but he wasn’t sure.” You cross your arms, “I didn’t.. this sounds bad, but I didn’t want to ruin your marriage.”

“Honey, you didn’t ruin anything. Colby and I did by letting it fizzle out. I always had a feeling he loved the kids more than me, which I mean, I guess is fine, normal, they’re our kids, but I was always pushed to the back burner, and I didn’t realize I was doing the same to him until I was halfway through fucking that guy at the airport.”

You nod, “Right, yeah.”

“I wish you would have told me last night, that way I could have just faced it head on instead of running away and looking like a coward.” She laughs, “Oh my god. I was a mess for absolutely no reason.”

“I wanted to tell you. I was going to, I argued with myself for a solid two minutes before finally setting myself on doing it and then you went and dropped your bomb and I was like whoa, okay. Not the time.”

“I get it, and I’m sorry for coming over like that. It’s just, I really do like you, y/n, and I know I should be mad at you for screwing my husband, but I just can’t help but think that you were put in our lives to make us realize that we needed to finally just pull the trigger and get everything over with.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, “So.. with all of this, I assume I need to start looking for a new job?”

She furrows her brows, “Why would you want to do that?”

“Be-cause I slept with your husband?” You look at her confused and she sighs, “I know Colby is going to eventually move on, and to be completely honest, I think you’re the best person he could pick.”

You were so confused.

“So- wait..” you shake your head, “Sorry, I’m just, really confused right now.” You laugh slightly, “So you and Colby are divorcing?”

“Correct.” Vanessa nods, and you nod, “Okay, and you’re saying that it’s okay for Colby and I to be together?”

“Right.” She nods again and you stare at her, “Can I ask.. why? I mean- you’re just really calm right now, it honestly kind of scares me.”

She laughs, “To be honest, when Colby told me he’s been seeing you, I wanted to come over here and have a whole different conversation with you, but he reminded me that I did the same exact thing, the same exact night you guys did and we agree that it kind of made us even, so we just agreed that splitting up would be for the best.”

“I’m.. actually in shock.” You laugh, “Like this is actually kind of unbelievable.”

“Y/n. When Colby and I first got married, I would lay awake at night and think about if Colby and I were to divorce when we did have kids, would he pick someone that would love my children like they were her own?”

“I mean, I would probably think that, too.” You shrug and she nods, “you.” She points, “Are the literal definition of who I wanted Colby to pick, I mean, minus the sleeping with him while he’s still married but hey. I didn’t, too, right?”

You stare at her, unsure of whether to laugh or run and she laughs, “I know it’s probably too soon for jokes, but you can laugh.”

You let out a small laugh and nods, “Yeah, right. Okay.”

“I kind of knew there was something up with the way he was acting at that dinner party for Ana. I wanted you to meet Damien just so I could really confirm it was jealousy or not.”

You press your lips together, “I just- I should have stopped and told you right after the first night and I will always be sorry. I know you said you look at this like something else, but I still feel bad.”

“And that’s okay. But just think, you helped me see that Colby and I can finally be who we want to be. We don’t have to mold ourselves into something we aren’t for the other person anymore.” She smirks, “And honestly, I don’t blame you. Colby is hot, but sometimes, that just isn’t enough, you know?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“are my kids still sleep?” She leans up and looks over into the living room. You walk over, nodding as you look at her, “Do you want me to wake them?”

“No, no.” She shakes her head as she stands up, “I’m going to go over and pack a few things. I booked a hotel room for the next two days, so I can just kick back and reflect on everything you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You walk her over to the door and sigh, “I’m sorry, I have to ask this. Are you sure that you’re okay with everything? I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow with my tires slashed or anything.”

“Y/n, if I wanted to do that, I would have just went right into it. I’m a grown woman and I know that having maturity about a situation is the best thing you can do. I also appreciate you keeping it together because I don’t think I could have talked to you while you were sobbing.”

“I think it’s the shock, you know. I expected something totally different.”

She laughs, giving you a nod, “Well, I’m going to go. Give the kids a kiss for me. If you need me, text me. Please don’t call.”

“Got it.” You nod, closing your door as she walks down the steps. As soon as you close it and rest you back against it, there’s a light knock and you let out a sigh.

You turn to open it, stopping when you see Colby, “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles, “I figured I’d give her some space.”

“Are things really okay?” You ask and Colby nods, “It was a mutual decision, considering we both cheated on each other on the same night.”

“That’s.. sorry I just..” you shake your head, “Come in.” You step out of the way and he walks in, “How was the talk?”

“I’m actually, surprised that it went as well as it did. She said she wanted to thank me for making you guys realize that your marriage was done.”

He raises his brows, “Yeah, she was pissed at first, but then I told her that I was pissed because she did the same thing to me and we talked, for two hours we just sat and talked and it was actually really weird because I can’t remember the last time we did that.”

You nod, “I bet it was nice, but how- how do you feel?”

He shrugs, pulling you into him, “I can do this without worrying anymore.” He presses his lips to yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing back.

He smirks against your lips, “She said you’re really good for me.”

“She told me that I’m the definition of who she imagined you being with if you ever got a divorce.” You laugh slightly, “I just, this whole thing.. I was expecting screaming and crying and getting hit across the face.”

“Vanessa can handle conflict really well, it’s scary.” He laughs, “But now we both and just take a deep breath and find who we’re really meant for.”

“Might take some time though, right?” You tease and Colby shakes his head, “Not for me it won’t.” He pulls you back in and kisses you again, “My mom said she’ll take the kids tonight, so you and I can talk.”

“Colby.” You smirk, “You know we can’t just do that.”

“That’s the point.”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

You wait by the door, standing there in one of you lingerie sleep dresses.

You seen Colby’s headlights pull into the driveway and you bite your lip, resting your hand on the couch and leaning against it.

You heard the knob turn and you put on a smile, shifting your weight to your one leg as it opens. Colby stops, raising his brows, “What’s this?”

You shrug, “Just thought I’d slip into something more comfortable while you were gone.”

“Oh, I see.” He bites his lip, closing the door behind him, “Are you comfortable?”

You shrug, walking up to him, “I’d be more comfortable if I was on my back upstairs in my bed.” Colby smirks, nodding his head as he walks over to set the bag of food down on the counter, “I got us dinner, but that can wait until after.”

You smirk, racing up the steps to your room, Colby following close to you.

His hands are on your waist as you reach the top, pushing you against the wall across from you. His lips attack yours as he his hands slide up and down your body, gripping and kneading at your hips.

You slide away from him, pulling him with by his hand into your room. You walk backwards to the bed, sitting down before your hands move to his belt, “Let’s get you a little more comfortable, yeah?”

He nods, “Please.”

You pull his belt apart, unbuttoning and zipping down his pants before shrugging the jeans down his thighs.

He bites his lip, watching as your hand brushes over his already hard cock that’s being restrained before his thin boxers.

You slide his boxers down, leaning in to press a kiss to the head of his cock. You stick your tongue out, leaning down to lick up under the underside before wrapping your lips around him.

He groans, his hand pushing your hair out of your face, “Fuck, baby.” You work your tongue, around the tip before slowly bobbing your head up and down.

“Oh, shit.” Colby’s knees buckle as you suck, groaning loudly as his fingers gather your hair in his fist, “Just like that, baby.”

You pull back, resting the tip on your tongue as you look up at him.

“Oh my god.” Colby runs his hand over your head, “you are so fucking sexy.” He bites his lip, “Keep going.”

He slightly pushes his hips forward and you push your head down, slowly working at taking him into your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, keeping your breathing steady as he enters.

“O-oh, fuuuck.” Colby moans, “That’s it.” He retracts his hips, slowly pushing them forward, his cock returning to the place it just was.

Your hands grip his thighs, humming around him lowly.

“S-shit.” He pulls your head back, “You keep doing that and I’m gonna cum.” He smirks, nodding towards the bed, “Get up there.”

You crawl backwards, eyes on him as he steps out of his pants and moves to lay next to you, “Come here.”

You move to straddle him, leaning down to press your lips to his. His hands slide down your back, gripping your ass and he smirks, “No panties? Fuck, you must have really wanted to talk, didn’t you?”

“So bad.” You mumble against his lips, “I’ve been needing to talk to you.”

Colby smirks, pecking your lips before pushing you to sit up, “Move up here.” He grips your thighs, “I want to eat that sweet pussy of yours.”

You bite your lip, nodding as you move up to straddle his head. His hips pull you down and your hands fly to grip the headboard, “Oh fuck.”

His slides his arm up around your hips, his hands gripping your thighs as his tongue works over and around your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, Colby.” You tilt your head back, one hand moving to tangle his hair around your fingers as you moan loudly.

His lips wrap around your clit, teeth gently nipping which causing your thighs to twitch, “Fuck!”

You pull on his hair which earns a groan from him. You gasp as you slowly grind down, “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Colby holds you tight, tongue pushing in and out of you as he guides you through your orgasm. You pant, whining out before his grip loosens.

You fall over, lying down and looking up at Colby as he rolls over on top of you, “You taste so fucking good.”

His lips crash onto yours, swallowing your moans as you taste yourself on his lips. You both pause the kissing, gasping together as his cock slips into your cunt.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into you more. His lips resume moving with yours, moaning deep as you swallow his cock fully, “Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me.” He bites your lip, pulling it out before letting it slap back against your teeth.

You sink your nails into his shoulders as he pulls out, thrusting back in which ears a gasp from you, “Shit.”

His threats pick up quick, slamming into you as he attacks your neck to paint little purple marks all over the skin, “tell me how good it feels, sweetheart.” His voice is low, “fuck, I need to hear you.”

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” You moan, “So fucking good, i-I’m already so close.”

“Come for me, baby.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna feel you come undone around me.”

Your walls pulsate around his cock, moans ripping non stop from your lips as his thrusts guides you into that sea of pleasure.

Your nails drag up his back, face buried in his neck as you moan over and cover again.

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Colby pushing himself up, looking down at you as he watches your face twitch with constant pleasure, “You are so beautiful.” He leans down, lips on yours.

“Where do you want me?” He whispers against your lips, “You have me right there, baby.”

“Don’t stop.” You whimpered out, eyes locking onto his, “Don’t stop.”

He nods, groaning lowly as his thrusts turn sloppy, “Fuck, fuck.” He looks down at his cock slowly going in and out of you, pushing in fully as his cum fills you full.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as he lays down next to you, reaching over to lay his hand on your thigh. You roll over, your head resting against his chest, “I really do love you, Colby.”

He drags his fingers up and down your back, “I love you, y/n. Since the day I first met you.”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

Here’s your happy ending! Thank you so much, I really didn’t expect this to turn into a little mini series, but I appreciate all the love! 🖤 I love you all, and I’ll catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[spread-the-influence]

HOW SO SHE WOULD BE THE MOST LIKELY TO COMMIT CANNIBALISM ? ? ? HELLO

being serious for a moment because that was a bit of hyperbolic humor , i'm thinking ' most likely ' not in terms of she would do it if given the chance but in terms of it'll play off her themes too well

basically ragatha's entire thing thus far is Needing to be wanted and loved . she's a people pleaser through and through . this is shown by her talking about how she doesn't want jax to hate her despite hating him in ep 3 , inserting a comment about how pomni must not like her in episode 2 while talking to kinger , and ... her entire behavior in general . she says things she doesn't really mean , her helpfulness and kindness could come off as disingenuous to some ; desperate to others .

while a lot of people bear some level of wanting affection — we are social creatures , we're engineered to want companions — ragatha's level is unhealthy . with how she wants everyone to like her , including the People that she shouldn't care about the opinions of ( jax ) , it gives off the impression of someone who relies solely on external validation than an internal one .

the thing is that depending on external validation is a futile endeavor because it's fleeting . it will all feel like scraps to feed an endless pit . it's the hunger for love and affection that can never be sated . because you don't have a constant supply ( self-love ) to keep it fed . even when you get it , you just want more . and more . it just never feels like enough . so , what then ? words are not tangible , but a body is . touch doesn't last , but if it's inside of you , it will .

what's a way to feed that bottomless pit inside of you that could be more lasting than these temporary acts of affection ?

[slvtforasht0n]

Jealousy, jealousy

title inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s track on Sour

.✦ || Boyfriend!Ash x Reader

.✦ || This is your first time being a stagehand at your boyfriend and his band’s show. Even though you couldn’t watch him perform, a particular interaction between him and a female fan piqued your interest. You couldn’t help but look, ought to see what’s happening. Instead, jealousy gets the better of you once you see what’s really going on, your mood permanently shifted. At least, that’s what it felt like.

A/N: first half is highly based on that one interaction that happened in the 5SOS diaries. forever jealous of that girl lol. anyway, i hope you like what i’ve brought out for you for my first post ever. kinda always wanted a tumblr account to post every idea or blurb i get, but ya girl can be very very lazy sometimes.

inspired to write smut ever since i had wattpad. saying this loud and proud. loved duplicity, stall and malignant so there’s that random fact (turn it up for all the other harries/directioners reading this)

i don’t write that much so i’m still trying to improve wherever i need to. ps. english isn’t my first language, so if you do spot grammer/vocab mistakes, it’s not on me sista, still learning:3 sooo i guess i’ll just finish it off by saying this; sit back, relax and enjoy :^)

CONTENT WARNING: fluff & smut, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), spitting, sliiiight dirty talking

WORD COUNT: 5,2k

────୨ৎ────

As much as you hate your boyfriend in this moment— he wriggled his way to here. His hands all over your frame, reaching to every spot he can find, almost as if his hands have a mind of their own.

His kisses grow more impatient, needy and full of want. Drawing gentle circles against the small strip of bare skin on your back, making you both break the kiss apart with a small gasp.

You weren’t sure of your emotions. Did you want to continue and make him have his way with you? Or did you want to push him away and strangle the living hell out of him?

A faint whimper escapes your lips in between the kiss, his hand traveling down to the heat between your clothed legs. That feeling alone begs to differ. As much as you don’t want to admit to it. You still have that small abhor, but also intense jealousy from what happened prior to all of this.

He breaks the kiss apart, his eyes finding yours. The hazelly green forest almost dispersed into his black pupils, blown out and primed. Fuck… you think to yourself. He looks so provocatively striking, like an erotic sex-god, which is enough to drive you wild— both in a good and a bad way.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” He prompts, his hands finding your waist again to pull you in closer, showing you how induced he is, the want and need inside of him written all over his face.

—

This day has been…chaotic, booked, a haywire of physical and mental exertion that drove you into madness. Almost. You only had a 20 minute break before going back to work, crew following along, five different people guffing into your earpiece that just rubs you the wrong way. Being irritated isn’t even slightly nearing to what you’re actually feeling.

Finally, you walked inside the venue, a moment of calm before the storm. Happy you can let your guard down for another minute or two. You take a deep breath, moving scenery and props along with two other crew members, joining in after your one true moment of silence.

Being a stagehand at a show of your own boyfriend is uncommon, just something you’re not really used to. You’re not sure if you’re able to keep your cool seeing Ashton on stage, beating those drums expertisely, face etched into pure concentration. You always found it to be a work of art, to see your boyfriend practicing at home or somewhere that isn’t on a stage.

But hey, you bite the bullet once it’s showtime, having to face away from the stage, meanwhile he’ll be there to steal the show.

The crew had cued that the band arrived several moments later, and as much as you want to run away to find him, you’re still stuck planning, discussing and arranging tonight’s act.

Hours have passed on and exhaustion seemed to get the better of you. The small gig now filled with a couple of thousands of fangirls, boys, moms, dads, you name it. Two thousand to be exact. You’re not sure if it makes you intrigued, or uncomfortable. Either way, you find yourself lucky you’re not in that crammed crowd.

Playing more intimate, smaller shows was out of the ordinary for the band, something they wouldn’t have done a year ago or two.

The show has started not long after, and your back is facing the stage, eyes on all of these screaming fangirls for their idols in front of them, hands in the air, phones recording, but mainly their loud screams that’s luckily muffled by your in-ears. All you could do is focus on the beat of the drums, imagining his every movement of prowess, how trickles of sweat is already forming on his forehead.

You don’t have it in you not to look, so you do. Just the smallest of sneak-peak. Though, his eyes immediately found yours, like all of his focus was on the back of your head this whole time. Your heart starts to pound faster against your chest, turning your head back to the crowd ahead. Just keep your cool… keep your cool— You have to remind yourself every minute. Or rather every second.

You’re glued to the spot, making sure everyone’s safe and sound. However, there’s a small interaction going on between a fan and… Ashton. His voice being heard through the microphone gives you some sort of solace, your focal point on every pronunciation and syllable on the words that falls from his lips.

This particular interaction is focused on the fan’s cardboard sign, stipulating that it’s her twenty first birthday and now legal to drink, suggesting Ashton a shot. They expeditiously agree and brought the stunned girl up stage. Your eyes followed hers, turning around to look at the stage ahead. You didn’t have the heart in you to dismiss this and act like nothing’s going on.

Ashton’s change of demeanour, presence next to this fan, and just the overall vibes he’s got going on throws you right off the wall. It’s like he’s throwing her a curveball of coy behaviour, something that doesn’t sit right with you. It’s either that or you’re overthinking it. But then again, you might not be, especially having your eyes glued on him right now, watching him unfold into someone he’s not.

You hate it. You hated every second of it, watching the scene ahead. She gets to be the one giving your sweaty boyfriend a hug, a prolonged hug. Sharing a shot, looking into his eyes- him looking into her eyes. It’s like hot steams are blowing out of your ears by how much you hate seeing this with your own eyes. If it were possible, you’d throw Ashton’s drum kit right to his head out of spite and anger. You can’t believe him.

You’re definitely not overthinking, since you’ve picked up on him being ‘the man of the show’. Trying to seem more charming and appealing, in all the wrong ways. You know he loves getting this type of attention, boosts his ego in the wrong way and you’d love to just kick him right in the nuts.

Once the show’s over, you’re finally in your own privacy, changing your uniform to your day to day outerwear. A knock is heard on the door, catching you out of your hazy thoughts, while also feeling jealous and incensed. You open the door and you’re immediately knocked down with a feather.

“What are you doing here?” you utter, laced in a grim tone, not expecting to see his cheery face. Ashton stands in front of you, eyebrows raised by your surprising outburst.

“Checking in on my girlfriend. What else would I be doing?” He responds nonchalantly, entering the small room without needing to ask for permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

He runs a hand through his damp curls, looking around the room before looking back to you. It’s like he struggles to read you and why you’re not responding to him, why you’re facing away from him. “Hey…” He starts off, walking up to you and placing his hands on your waist, making you turn around to face him.

You push his hands off your body almost immediately, his eyes on stalks. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he counters, his eyes searching yours.

The more he acts this oblivious, the more you want to give into the idea of kicking him in the nuts and walking out of this room. You decide to just tell him before he’s going for the the well known question ‘are you on your period?’.

“The fuck was that up stage?” you angrily mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

He seems confused, which is one more reason to be angry at him. How can he be so painfully heedless? You desperately need to just knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

“What?” he raises his arms in an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ motion.

“Oh, so now you’ve got memory loss? Great.” you roll your eyes, facing the other way instead of him. Again. How can a human being manage to piss you off this much? It’s inane.

“Amore… tell me.” He waits for you to say something, anything at all, but all you do is stand there and glare, causing him to take a step closer to you. “Was it the girl who I did a shot with?”

Bingo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes again, as if it wasn’t that obvious why you’d be mad at him about that in the first place.

“Oh come on… Nothing happened, alright? Just did her a favour and probably made her whole night.”

“Yeah, right.” You bite back immediately, not buying any of the bullshit he’s spitting. You can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re deranged in anger, but also so confused and hurt. He’d never gone this close to a girl before in all the months you’ve been dating, so he surely needs to understand why you’re acting the way you are.

“Why are you making a big deal out of this?” he murmurs, managing to boil your blood to the point you could burn anything you touch into ashes.

“Are you kidding me, Ash?” you poss in vexation, glaring through his soul. Words can’t express how tense you’re getting and how much you want to wipe that foolish smirk off his face.

“Babe, you can’t be serious, can you?” He sneers, his eyes giving you a once over. You only let out a frustrated sigh, turning your back to him a third time.

You don’t know what he deserves more, a sucker punch right to his jaw or the infamous silent treatment. Maybe both could give him a well-earned reality check.

“Are you seriously mad about some measly fucking interaction? Really, Y/N?” he huffs, seeming more annoyed than amused this time. Which makes you, on the other hand, infuriated by even more rage.

The way he acts so unbothered is insufferable. You turn on your heel, facing him, an angry etched expression on your face he certainly can’t dismiss now. “You were flirting with her, you ass! Right in front of me!” You bark back, sick of his apathetic state. Just utterly sick of him.

“I wasn’t, Y/N! Why would you even think that?” he retorts, his obliviousness turning into annoyance, his arms now crossed over his chest as well.

You don’t respond, only letting out a spiteful scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I really don’t see what’s wrong here. You have no reason to be mad at me. None.” he mutters, which is just the cherry on the cake, isn’t it? You let out another angry huff before turning on your heel and leaving him in the room, despite it being yours.

However, you’re not as quick as you thought you were as he catches your wrist, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. None of that bullshit. Talk it out with me, curse me out, just don’t ever shut me out, okay?” he calmly explains, his eyes trained on yours with his eyebrows creased together in concentration on you. Only you. You take a deep breath, flicking your eyes in between his.

“Why were you flirting with that girl?” you ask after a long pause, your eyes focusing on that one curl that fell on his forehead.

“I wasn’t.” He responds, and it just made you feel even more obscured from this ridiculous situation that brought tension between you two.

You’re starting to think you might be overdoing it. Might be a bit of the jealous kind and just making this ought to paint you to be dramatic.

“Is that all you have to say?” you mask getting offended by his short, incoherent reply, just by answering repulsively back.

“What more can I say then? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.” He crosses his arms again, and it just messes with your head on what type of emotions and feelings are coursing through him. What his thought process is, ‘cause he’s doing everything he can to dismiss the issue. Dismissing your feelings that are as valid as can be. At least that’s what you wanna think.

“Never mind.” You pull away from his grip, sitting down at the nearest couch. You’re done trying to argue to a wall, because that’s the position you feel like you’re in, feeling trapped in a loophole if he continues to act this clueless.

He looks over at you, no remorse whatsoever, and that somehow rises more anger out of you, though you make sure you keep your poker-face. There’s no point anymore if he won’t try to understand you.

“Are ya really just gonna sit there and stare?” he asks. But after a long pause, he just knows there’s not going to be a reply.

“Silent treatment won’t solve anything, love.” he adds, looking at you across the room, his eyebrows furrowed as he runs his hand through his hair again.

“Y/N…Just quit it already, will ya?” he grows more annoyed and impatient by your attitude. However, nothing will make you utter out a word again. Not when he at least attempts to apologise.

“Fuck’s sake, Y/N… I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, alright? I wasn’t flirting with the girl- would never do that.”

You think to yourself you might have overexaggerated on wanting an attempted apology, cause it just pisses you off even more.

“Talk to me…” he prompts, taking a few steps closer to you.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as some sort of indication to stride closer. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and cupping your jaw, making sure you look him in the eyes. “Please?”

You hate him. You hate him so much you’re becoming a tough nut to crack, and he’s fully aware of that. He knows how stubborn and jealous you can get over the smallest things. Still, you don’t know where his mind is.

He pulls you in for a kiss, connecting his lips with yours, catching you by surprise. His hands are trailing down your body and reposing on your waist, pulling you closer than before.

If this is how he ventures his way out to say sorry to you, when you can’t take it as a simple word, you’re not…entirely against it.

You stare profoundly into his eyes after he breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours—But your feelings are very conflicting. You so want to give in, but you’re still mad. And you still hate him. Well, you’re trying to make yourself hate him.

It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve uttered out a word, but that’s none of your concern as you pull him in for another heated kiss, your hand finding its way through his tousled hair, earning a soft groan on his end. His tongue slips out and swipes at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as you oblige immediately.

He has you fully wrapped around your finger. You can’t even be mad at him anymore, even if it’s play pretend.

His hands are on your waist, but it didn’t take long before one hand slips between your legs, making you instantly weak in the knees.

“Let me make it up to you, amore mio.” replays in your mind over and over when you brought him in for another desperate kiss, pouring out all of your feelings and love for him. The way he said it, the desperation in his voice and his dilated eyes— you can never say no to that. You need him.

You’re a hot mess, letting out huffs of pleasure as he continues to palm you through your jeans, like an attempt to hear you, even if it’s not through articulated words.

He pulls away from your lips, traveling his heated series of kisses down to your pulse-point, eliciting another hot whimper out of you. You’re dazed and all you want is more. More of him. Just more.

He hoists you up, your legs immediately clinging around his hips as he leads you towards the small couch, laying you down and hovering his body over yours.

He’s such a sight for sore eyes, carrying the grace of dawn and the mystery of dusk. Your eyes wandering over every feature of his face, just taking him in. He bites back a smile, his eyes lingering on your chest, then back to your eyes. “Want me to make you feel good, yeah?” his voice is ragged with desire, low and husky that has such a toll on you.

He goes back in for a fervent kiss before you could even respond, pouring out all of his love for you that makes you forget the anger you once had a thousand times more. Your hands wander over his shoulders, all the way down to his hips, pulling him in closer, trapping him in between your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a low grunt in between the kiss, his hips grinding against your heat, drawing out another small sound out of you. His hands that has a mind of its own fondling your breasts through the thin material of your shirt, like he couldn’t get enough of you and he physically needs more. You want more of him too, totally entranced by him, the heat of desire pooling in between your legs with an intensified want to have him in ways that’s unrefined. He moves towards the crook of your neck again, marking you up as his.

You’re already impatient as is, your uncoordinated fingers fumbling with his belt, like you can’t stand seeing him in clothes for another wasted second. He lets you, still immersed in marking your neck up, making sure there are angry marks left behind.

Once you’ve found the zipper of his tight jeans, you tug the material down, his hands coming in rescue and helping himself out of his jeans. In an instant, he pulls at the hem of your shirt, dragging the material over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. Your eyes have wandered off to the door behind him and suddenly you’re too aware that someone could walk in easily.

“Babe… this room has no lock.” you mention, evoking a small smirk on his face. “Don’t you think it’s more fun that way? No one’s gonna come in.” He teases, eyes shamelessly staring at your bra, like he’s trying to smog up the power to disappear things with his mind.

“But-“ he’s quick to pipe you down by a kiss on the lips. “No ‘but’s’, you’re safe with me, amore.”

You pull him back in, sick of prolonging this any longer and seriously needing a good fuck if he’s gonna make it worth the while. If this is his way to at least attempt to apologise, then he better makes it good. Not that he has ever disappointed you in that division.

He hovers over you again, faces inches from yours, his hand snaking under your back to unclasp your bra in what feels like a nanosecond. He pulls the material off your body like it’s some sort of pest- like he’s been wanting it off since the moment he had laid eyes on you. He nips and sucks at your skin, hands exploring every inch of you. He licks a stripe right above your boobs, staring up at you with a well-known grin, eager to have his way with you.

He swipes his tongue over your sensitive nipple, lapping you up and then latching you in between his lips, paying great attention to you with his mouth, suckling and nibbling on your flesh. His other hand wanders to your untended breast, his fingers playing with the other nipple. You let out a soft whimper, already captivated by his fervent skills, your fingers threading through his soft curls.

Your eyes catches his, a sultry grin appearing on his face that has you overdriven with more arousal, more desire for him.

He moves to your other nipple, giving it the same, equal attention, drawing even more sounds and pants out of you.

All you really want is for him to hurry up. Your mind can’t get off of that damned door that has no lock on it, and he’s about to undress you intimately, which has made you apprehensive. He quickly catches on by your stiff demeanour and he lowers himself down, licking a long strip down your bare stomach- trying to make you forget about the door.

You lull your head back, your breath ragged and uneven as you tug at his golden strands tighter than before, earning a low grunt from him. He sure knows how to make you forget about stuff in an instant.

He has his hands on each side of your hips, trailing them towards the button of your black jeans. He works his way to get you out of your clothes, fast and determined, pulling the fabric down your thighs as you help him kick off the material.

“So gorgeous f’me, amore.” he grunts, quickly discarding his shirt off of him, accentuating his perfect, sweaty body to you, the sculputred abs and delicious pecs staring right at you as we speak. You sit up straight on the couch with only the flimsy laced underwear you’re wearing covering three percent of your body at most.

His eyes widen the moment you drop down to your knees in front of him, head-level with the black boxer briefs clung tightly on him. It highlights the swell of his tent that’s covered by the thin material of his Calvin Kleins. Your doe-eyed expression seems to get the better of him, already biting his bottom lip from your sight.

You waste no time, hooking your fingers under the material of his boxers, sliding them down ‘till they drop to his feet. He’s quick when it comes to stepping out of them, eager for you.

You’ve seen him like this before, plenty of times even, but right now— it’s like his arousal is as painful as it seems. His tip an angry shade of pink, pre-cum glazing down to his shaft. His breathing is laboured, his eyes concentrated on you, like he’s trying to moderate himself, keeping everything under control before he snaps.

You wrap your hand around his cock, the smallest of touch already making him hiss in pleasure. With deep shared eye contact, you start to pump him slowly, collecting the pre-cum that’s spilling out of him, whirling it over his tip, eliciting another desperate whimper from his agape lips. His eyebrows are creased, the purity in his eyes completely gone- reciprocated into something more coarse and obscene.

“Baby.. open your mouth.” he demands in a breathier tone, and you instantly oblige. With that, he cups your jaw with both of his large hands, his eyes intensely staring at yours. You don’t know what to expect, but he stars to hover over you, his face significantly closer to yours. He gives you that snarky smirk you know all too well, and then makes sure to lift your jaw a little up higher as he spits into your mouth without caution. Your eyes widen a little, his spit landing right on your tongue.

“Now swallow f’me, amore.” he orders, and you do exactly as he says.

Jesus…even in times like these— he still tastes divine.

His one hand threads through your hair, his other leaving the underside of your chin. “Show me what you’ve got…be my good girl.” he growls, standing up straight. You’re completely gone off guard by this small interaction between you and him, but you quickly shake it off, your trembly hand going back to where it was before.

You lick a strip up over his shaft, swirling your tongue on his tip that has him already writhing for more. You finally take him in your mouth, wrapping your lips sweetly around him and taking him inch by inch, a swall groan leaving his lips in exchange.

You set up a space, sucking him as you wrap your hand around the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth, his hand threading in your hair expeditiously. Low grunts and groans escapes his mouth, totally entranced by your ministrations as he couldn’t help but thrust forward, meeting your pace and rhythm all. He hits the back of your throat at every thrust, tears already brimming in your eyes that eventually seeps down to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but suck him with more precision, eyes deeply concentrated on his breathtaking face.

The desperation and anguish is written all over him, like he couldn’t bear this and needs you in ways where it’s humanly impossible to describe. Sweat already trickles over his forehead, eyes pleading for you, in a way that makes you believe his pupils are contorted into spelling your name- his want like a screeching howl that blares through your eardrums.

In a quick motion, he pulls out of you and you take your time to catch your breath, heaving them out like you’ve ran a marathon, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He pulls you to your feet, hands on your hips and instantly pushing you backwards on the couch as your back hits the cushions, laying flat on the surface. Hovering over you, he delicately scans his eyes over your whole frame, taking in every detail from your tousled hair to your almost naked self. He traps himself in between your spread out legs, his length making contact with your lower abdomen, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His arms are on each side of you, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead. “Need to fuck you, baby. Need you right now.” He murmurs, his voice hoarse and his tone laced in pure lust.

You bite your bottom lip as he positions you, hands firmly grasping your hips in desperation. “Please…” You utter out, the only thing your lips can form as a sole word, while your mind is going a million miles an hour with how much you have to say.

The warmth of his palms are soon replaced by the cool air hitting your hips, his hands sliding down to your thighs as his fingers prudently play with the lace of your underwear. “So beautiful…” He murmurs in almost a whisper. “I only have eyes for you, you know that right?” He adds, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, examining him. “I know...” you reply in a soft mumble and his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile.

You glance down his body, and the sight alone has you as weak as water. He pumps himself a few times, eyes still trained on yours. He pulls at the laced material of your panties, prodding his length right under the fabric as he teasingly begins to rub himself against you. You let out a stifled moan, eyebrows creased upwards in simple pleasure. He’s fervent with you, fastening his pace ever so slightly that drives you insane. “So wet f’me, yeah?” he grunts, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your soft moans are muffled in between the kiss as his hand that rested on your hip is now gripping your thigh, quickly hooking it over his shoulder. He positions himself at your entrance, gliding himself inside you fervently with your panties now pushed aside. A soft gasp escapes your throat, head already lulled back by how full he’s making you feel once he’s fully inside. After making sure you adjust to him, he begins to set up a slow pace, hovering over your body even closer as this new profound feeling intensifies, hitting you in all the right places.

“So fucking pretty for me, baby… Let me hear you, yeah? Moan f’me…” he praises, and all you could do in response to that is grow louder- despite still being in a semi-public setting. There’s a small chance someone could walk in, or even hear you through the door, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s on him, totally engulfed in pleasure he gives you.

“Taking me so well…” He pants, heaving out breaths as his thrusts start to become rougher, dragging out more moans out of you. “So good for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up so well...” He continues, his hands trailing over every inch of your body, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples, eliciting another whimpery moan from your lips.

He continues to thrust into you deliciously, hooking your other leg over his other shoulder, this newfound angle hitting your sweet spot delightfully over and over again. Moans spill out of you in an overwhelming sensation, that’s probably music to his ears by the way he’s thoroughly captivated by you.

His own moans fall from his lips once your hips buck up to match his rhythm of his thrusts. “I’m so close...” you heave out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He takes this as a sign to fuck you harder. Rougher. Like he wants to break you in half.

He adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing out louder moans, that has no way of becoming less when it’s only pitching up higher in decibels. “You’re so fucking hot, baby…So perfect.” he praises you, totally wrapped up in utter pleasure, the slapping sounds of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“Please…” you plead in a high whimper, not really sure why, but you’re completely overdriven in ecstasy, his thumb on your sensitivity never leaving you which adds to more pleasure, egging you on.

“Yeah, amore mio? Gonna give it to me, aren’t you? Show me… Show me how good I make you feel.” he groans completely out of breath, his chest glistening with his own sweat. He leans down, folding you in half like a damned pretzel, hitting you even deeper than before. He nips on the skin at the crook of your neck, humming against you.

“Making me feel so good…” he murmurs against your skin, his thrusts piercing more moans out of you, knowing how much you enjoy his rough side.

The bubbling feeling inside your lower abdomen intensifies by the minute, exhibiting that you’re nearing the finish line. He knows by your desperate pants and graphic sounds as he strives to get you to the pinnacle point of pleasure, picking up on his thrusts, fucking you harder against the cushions with fervor.

Your brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs, moving from left to right in a stirring pan as his lips finds yours in a sweet quick kiss, pulling away to look at you. His hands grip your waist as tight as ever, definitely leaving a mark behind. His whimpers like a melody you can never get sick of, no matter how many times you’re willing to repeat the same tune.

A few more thrusts in and you hear the familiar ringing in your ears as you near the edge completely, your climax washing over you like a tidal wave. You scream out his name in the process, clenching sweetly around him as he follows right behind you and finishes, trails of curse words falling from his lips in heavy grunts—filling you with his cum.

He unhooks your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a small gasp. He crashes down next to you, heaving out hefty breaths. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close to his glistening body. “See? You’re safe with me, just like I told you.” he breathes, letting out a soft chuckle.

You turn your face to look at him, a genuine smile formed on your lips, despite being completely out of breath. “Mmmh, never said you were wrong.”

He chuckles in response, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. “You felt incredible baby, definitely needed this after the show.”

You smile, all the anger and jealousy from before completely wiped off of you. “I always do.” you counter with a smug grin, giving him a bit of a tease.

“A win-win situation for me, eh?” He eyes you, eyebrows raised with a cheeky smile. You laugh, shaking your head. “Definitely.” You agree, a small giggle followed after.

“So… I take it that you’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, his voice laced in a sincere tone.

You had almost forgotten about how immensely infuriated you were before this happened. “I forgive you.” you murmur, glancing at him.

“I mean it when I told you I only have eyes for you.” he utters, pulling you even closer than before, pecking the top of your head.

This was definitely a way to end the night, after a very small gig took place and how the man of your dreams next to you can have you riled up in anger as well as desire in the span of two seconds. You’re not complaining about it at all. You wouldn’t have him any other way— even if it means all the ups and downs that comes with it.

————

[srslylini]

I have some thoughts about the idea of forgiveness and moving on we see in media and fans. The thoughts mostly come from being in therapy and spending time with people who specialize in those fields and helped me come to terms with my own pain.

This can very well be taken in general but is mostly about Vi.

Right. So.

Vi is a genuinely interesting character, who has gone through hell and back to put it lightly. She lives in conditions in the undercity that has people who don't live in them wear masks to handle them. She grew up and saw her parents die, which means she had to step up. Vander did adopt her, her sister, Mylo and Claggor but Vander still put a lot of responsibilities on Vi. She was told she cannot be selfish when people look up to her.

Then, of course, the entire act 1 of season 1 happens, which in itself is already very much and not something that should have ever happened to anyone, let alone a kid/teenager. She then, on TOP of all of this, got thrown into Stillwater after seeing her entire family die (and presumed Powder also as dead, although she continued to hope), where she was canonically beaten, starved, put into isolation and... the rest is up to interpretation because I guess the writers did not care. But that interpretation is not a good one.

What I am trying to say with all of this is that Vi has been put through so much by the system and by people (Enforcers get a special mention here) all around her.

This gets me to the point. I see a lot of people, the writers themself even, talk about how Vi needs to (or already did) forgive and move on. And I just wonder where this idea comes from?

In all my time in therapy, no matter what and who I talked about, you know what I have never heard? That I need to forgive.

What I heard instead was rather close to this:

"What happened was not your fault. It happened and can't be changed. But there is still something you can do, because you stand here now. You can imagine yourself back then and guide yourself. Hold yourself and tell the younger version of you that what happened isn't ever going to be fine but that you are still here and that you need to be kind to yourself." She told me "take the hand of your younger version and walk her through it because in the end it will have always happened but you can choose to help yourself"

There is a lot more she told me, but that is between her and me. What I am trying to say with this is that not once did I ever get told that I need to forgive the people involved. I am also not trying to say that doing this works for everyone, because health does not work this way. The point I am making is that I find it incredibly weird that we came to the point of saying that the only way to let go is to forgive, when that could not be further from the truth.

I would say understanding it happened and being kind to yourself does a lot more than trying to forgive people who hurt you so much that it ends in you being broken to what seems beyond repair (it isn't I have learned that much, lol). That's what my therapist taught me.

Which brings me back to Vi and why I find the notion of "she needs to forgive and move on to get better" or the writers writing "she forgave and moved on" so weird.

What happened to her is not something that can be forgiven. And... that is okay. Or it should be okay. But for some reason it isn't?

I mean if you can and want to forgive that is for you to do but to say that it is a (or even THE) way to move on does not sit right with me. At all.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Biker AU, Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: A certain dark haired leader of a biker club caught your attention online and you've been watching his weekly races in secret—or so you thought. Little did you know, this handsome biker already knows about his cute little stalker...

Content Warnings: Stalking but online. Smut🔞 after a bit of plot. Unprotected sex, P in V (from the behind), riding, rough, dirty talk(?), ass slapping, pet names, choking(kinda—), aftercare in the shower. Chris is a tease (maybe like a bit?).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: 17 days late, but better than never— HAPPY NEW YEAR! I've been wanting to draw and write biker Chan for a LONG LONG TIME, so finally here it is. (Yes that drawing is done by me haha)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 5.6k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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The bike flashed away into the stretching tracks in a blink of an eye, leaving a trail of excitement and dust in its wake. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices drowned out by the fading growl of the engine.

You pushed your hood further over your head to cover your hair flying in that direction, blending into the mass of onlookers while your eyes stayed glued to the figure disappearing into the night.

Christopher Bang Chan.

Did an accidental misclick on a hashtag "NightRider" lead you into his world? Yes.

You did have an unexplainable attraction towards bikes. It was the thrill, the speed, the freedom. Even if you couldn't ride one, the way bikes looked like a beast that could conquer the roads, it fascinated you.

But this— this wasn't just an attraction towards the sleek BMW S1000rr that was speeding this evening. No.

A random late-night scroll had led you to a short video of him—helmet off, his hair dark slightly tousled, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he dismounted his bike like he owned the world. That pulled you like a magnet to steel.

You watched him, racing the tracks with swift motion, in practice ease, over taking every other rider, everything about him demanding attention.

Every other rider was left in his dust, and the cheers of his friends, 7 guys echoed above the deafening roar of the engines.

"Teach these bastards why they can’t touch you!” one of them bellowed, pumping his fist in the air, his blood red hair catching the rays of the setting sun.

“Eat that, losers!” another laughed, slapping the back of the guy next to him as they all leaned against their bikes, eyes glued to Chan’s figure dominating the track.

In a final swift, Chan drifted his bike as he reached the finish line, the tires screeching against the asphalt in a perfect arc. A plume of smoke curled up from under the wheels, his dimpled grin flashing at his victory and triumph.

The lingering growl of his bike continued as he sat there for a moment, one leg propped on the ground as if soaking in the chaos he had just commanded. His friends were the loudest of all, their jeers and cackles cutting through the noise.

Chan finally killed the engine and swung off the bike with the same effortless grace that had first caught your attention online. He pulled off his helmet, shaking his head slightly to ruffle his dark hair into place.

His eyes gleamed with a mix of adrenaline and triumph as he tucked the helmet under one arm and began walking toward his friends.

“That’s how it’s done, you fucking legend!” yelled one in a strong Australian accent, smacking Chan’s shoulder, the redhead taking his helmet from him and handing in a water bottle.

“Told you it wasn’t even a competition,” Chan quipped, his voice smooth but laced with that cocky edge that made your stomach flip.

The crowd began descending, slowly leaving you alone in your place, your hood over your head, covering your face slightly. Just as you were about to look away, his eyes briefly landed on you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his gaze on you. It was like he knew who you were but that was impossible. You've been secretly coming to the race every Saturday (telling your parents that you're going to the library) ever since you discovered his page and of course he doesn't know who you are.

It's out of the question.

Chan's smirk deepened, something wicked flashing in his expression. You quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with your phone, but you could still feel the heat of his gaze.

Before you made a fool of yourself, you stood up and walked towards the end of the track, pulling your hood lower to shield your face. Just as you were about to step into the shadows, a sharp, confident whistle cut through the air, freezing you in your tracks.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, you didn't turn around but felt Chan's lingering gaze pressing against your back. You turned slightly to see through your shoulders but then turned around and walked away as if you didn't hear anything at all.

“That chick’s been here for the last four weeks.” Minho commented, his voice casual as he tipped back his can of Red Bull.

Chan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on the spot where you had disappeared into the shadows. His jaw tensed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his gaze.

He could still picture the way you had glanced over your shoulder for a split second, like you’d been caught but refused to admit it.

"Oi, Chan," Felix called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You losing your touch, mate?"

The group erupted in laughter, their cackles echoing against the emptying track.

“Maybe she’s got better taste than you thought,” I.N added, smirking as he leaned against his own bike.

"She’ll come around." Chan said smoothly, shrugging nonchalantly, the cocky edge in his voice masking the intrigue bubbling beneath the surface.

"Will she now?" Hyunjin mocked, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"Trust me," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "No one comes to my races four weeks in a row without a reason." A devilish smirk tipped the corner of his lips that made the guys exchange glances.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't." Changbin interrupted, pushing himself upright with a sharp look.

"You don't even know what I was thinking." Chan shot back, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. "Besides, if she keeps coming back, she’s going to slip up eventually. And when she does…”

Changbin rolled his eyes at him and grabbed a Red Bull from the ice box. He knew that Chan wasn't going to listen to what he's gonna say anyway.

Chan walked towards his bike and hoped on, revving his engine as it roared to life and slipping his helmet on. He glanced at his friends, his smirk turning downright wicked.

"Then what?" Hyunjin asked, crossing his arms.

"She wanted my attention, so she got it. And I want something in return.”

With that, he sped off into the night, leaving the guys behind in a cloud of smoke and laughter.

***

"Three, two, one, let's gooo!..."

You kept scrolling through Instagram reels, nothing interesting that grabbed your attention.

But you couldn't stop thinking about Chan...

It's Saturday, four o'clock in the evening. His races start at five. You went through his Instagram and TikTok, creating a folder in your saves for his biking videos and you catch yourself rewatching his highlights again and again.

Were you guilty for stalking him online? A bit—but you couldn't stop it. His bike didn't even fascinate you anymore the way it did the first time. You just were feeling obsessed with him.

The race track was only a few blocks away from you and you couldn't help but think, could he have crossed your home? You never noticed it but now everytime you hear a speeding engine, you look out your window, hoping it's Chan.

Yeah you were pretty much obsessed.

You went back to Chan's account and scrolled down his feed, opening some of his old posts when suddenly the phone slipped out of your hand and fell on your face.

"Fuck!" You yelped, rubbing your forehead, eyes widening as you glanced at the screen in horror.

Oh fuck—

You accidentally liked a picture of him from two years ago.

The red heart stared back at you, mocking your clumsiness, your heart sank as panic took over.

“Oh, no, no, no…” you whispered, scrambling to unlike it. You tapped the heart again, watching it disappear, but the damage was already done. Your phone trembled in your hands as you stared at the post, your reflection visible in the darkened screen.

It was a picture of him leaning casually against his bike, wearing a tank top with his buff arms crossed, a majestically inked dragon flexing on his bicep.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, clutching your forehead. Does he get notifications for old likes? Does Instagram even do that?

You sat up, your mind racing just as fast as his bike. He had half a million followers, so maybe he wouldn’t notice, right? But what if he did? What if he checked? What if he remembered your face from the track and connected the dots?

"Calm down," you whispered, trying to reason with yourself. "He probably won’t even notice."

But deep down, a small voice in the back of your mind said otherwise.

Because if there was one thing you’d learned about Chan from watching him race, it was that he noticed everything.

~

"She'll be here today." Chan said, tossing the Red Bull can in the trash and turning towards his friends.

Seungmin tilted his head, looking up from his phone, arching a skeptical brow. "Oh, so now you're a psychic?"

Chan rolled his eyes, leaning casually against his bike. “No. She's been coming every Saturday, there's no way she'll not come today."

“You’ve been stalking your stalker?” Felix chimed in, his deep voice carrying a note of amusement as he slipped his hands in the pocket of his pants.

Chan smirked, unbothered by the jab. “I don’t need to stalk. She makes herself obvious. Hood up, always at the same damn spot. Like clockwork.”

“Maybe she’s just here for the bikes,” Seungmin said with a shrug, going back to scrolling on his phone. Chan shook his head, his smirk widening.

Chan shook his head, his smirk widening. “Nah, it’s not the bikes anymore. Her eyes practically screamed busted when I whistled at her.”

“That’s because you’re fucking annoying.” Jisung piped up, sipping from his own can of soda. “If someone whistled at me in public, I’d leave too.”

The group laughed, but Chan’s gaze remained steady, fixed on the track like he was already envisioning you standing there.

"Race instead of me." Chan effortlessly tossed his keys at Changbin.

"What?" Changbin caught the keys with a sharp reflex, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"If she's really into the bikes, she wouldn't care if the rider is different. But if that's not the case..." His smirk grew wider.

"Then she'll know it's not me the second you hit the track." Chan finished, rolling his helmet between his hands. "She’s been watching me, not the bike. Let’s see if she’s as observant as I think."

Changbin raised an eyebrow, twirling the keys in his hand. “So, you’re basically using me as bait?”

“Not bait,” Chan corrected, handing Changbin his helmet and clapping him on the shoulder. “More like... a decoy. Just ride, keep it clean, and make it convincing. Wear my helmet, keep your head down, and let me handle the rest.”

“This is either genius or the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” Felix said, shaking his head.

“Shut up and watch,” Chan said, his tone light but confident. He turned back to Changbin. “You good?”

Changbin sighed, slipping the helmet on. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t blame me if I win and your little stalker realizes you’re not as fast as you think.”

The group laughed again, but Chan was already focused, his gaze cutting across the other riders getting ready for the race and watching the crowd gather, waiting for his shadowed muse.

The air began getting slightly colder, riders hopping on their bikes getting ready for the race. Chan stood with the guys, his back facing the crowd and his face hidden with a hoodie, watching Changbin rev up the engine.

He gave a small thumbs to Bin who responded with his own one and held the handle, preparing to flash away.

You finally managed to slowly get in your spot blending in with the crowd, your usual hood on, hair in front to shield your face, eyes glued on the riders before you.

At this point it felt silly than anything else, sneaking around every Saturday like you were some undercover agent. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The magnetic pull Chan had on you was impossible to ignore, even if you didn’t fully understand it yourself.

Your eyes scanned the lineup of riders, automatically locking onto the sleek, black BMW S1000rr. The sound of its engine roaring to life sent a familiar thrill through you, but something felt... different tonight.

The rider atop the bike gave a sharp nod, helmet obscuring his face. You couldn’t tell, but the way he usually carried himself—effortless confidence paired with a hint of smugness—seemed oddly subdued.

Your heart sank slightly. Was he even here tonight?

You pushed the thought away, gripping the edge of your hoodie to ground yourself. Focus. It didn’t matter. You were here for the race, for the thrill, not for him.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself since the last four races.

The countdown began, the cheers of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. The sound of engines revving filled the air, and you found yourself leaning forward slightly, anticipation buzzing through your veins.

Three... Two... One—

The riders shot forward, a blur of color and speed tearing down the track. Your eyes stayed glued to the black bike, trying to shake the unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

Is it him?

You watched curiously for the first two rounds, pushing away the feeling that it's not Chan but when it was the third round and you still didn't see his dramatic drift at the curved corners of the track, you were sure that it really wasn't Chan racing.

You leaned backwards exhaling and pulling out your phone, your interest in the race quietly dying down.

"I caught you princess..." A smug grin spread across Chan's face who had been secretly watching you but the race.

Hyunjin, who had also been watching you with Chan, waiting for him to be wrong, sighed dramatically, pulling a crumpled fifty out of his pocket and slapping it into Minho’s palm.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shooting Chan a side glance. "She really is here for you man."

Chan chuckled, low and confident. “Told you,” he said, brushing past them as he made his way toward you.

You were distracted with the reels playing on your phone to notice until he sat next you, your eyes fell on that unmistakable silver bracelet you recognised instantly.

Your heart pounded in your ears.

“Enjoying the race?” a low, teasing voice asked, so close you could feel the faint vibration of it in your chest. You stiffened, your head snapping up.

And there he was. Bang Chan.

Sitting casually next to you, leaning back like he owned not just the seat, but the entire universe. His hoodie was slightly pushed back, giving you a perfect view of his sharp jawline and those maddening dimples that tugged at his smirk.

For the first time, you noticed how sharp his features were up close—perfectly sculpted, how his lashes framed those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you.

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to spill over, but you kept your guard up and tried to calm your racing heart.

“You okay there, princess?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe... me?”

You quickly snapped out of it, your face heating. “I’m fine,” you said, sitting straighter and forcing your voice to sound steady. "And I think you've mistaken me, I don't really know you."

Your lie was so bland, it practically hung in the air like a neon sign screaming caught red-handed.

Chan raised an eyebrow, playfully scoffing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Is that so?” he said, his tone laced with mock sincerity. He leaned in slightly, and you caught a faint whiff of leather and something distinctly him—sharp, clean, and deathly intoxicating.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice firm despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I don’t really follow bikers.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin theatrically, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Funny, because someone who doesn’t follow bikers somehow managed to stumble across my page. And, oh, what’s this?” 

He mimicked scrolling on an invisible phone, his grin wicked. “Liked a post from two years ago? Now, that’s dedication for someone who doesn’t know me.”

Your stomach did a somersault, and for a moment, you were certain your face betrayed you. But you quickly composed yourself, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms. “That was an accident,” you said coolly, trying to ignore the way your pulse thundered in your ears.

Chan tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “So you accidentally clicked on my profile, accidentally scrolled back two years, and accidentally double-tapped? Seems like a lot of accidents for one person.”

You huffed, glaring at him. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Only when I’m right.” He shot back smoothly, his dimpled grin so close now, you could count the faint freckles dotting his cheekbones. 

You could do nothing to calm your racing heart as Chan adjusted his seat and leaned back, watching whoever was racing in his place. He didn't say a word after that, just stayed silent and concentrated on the track.

You kept glancing at him with the corner of your eyes without fully turning, focusing on the race as well, but you could have sworn that he could hear your pounding beats in your chest over the screeching tires.

Of course whoever was riding in on behalf of Chan won tonight's race in an equally dramatic drift, you caught Chan smirking and nodding proudly. You were unsure what to do and stood in your place while the crowd began standing up, then when you were about to leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

"Where are you off to now?" His dark eyes glinted under the dim lights, mischief oozing from every inch of his expression.

“You’ve been sneaking in to watch the race for weeks, and now that you’ve got what you wanted, you’re just gonna leave? That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?” 

You bit your lip, debating your next words. His confidence was infuriating, but it was also… dangerously attractive. Finally, you sighed, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “Maybe I did. So what?”

Chan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your honesty, before breaking into a wide grin. “Well, that’s a first. Didn’t think you’d actually own up to it.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” you shot back, your tone laced with feigned impatience, though your pulse still raced from his lingering touch.

Chan tilted his head, eyeing you thoughtfully, then exhaled a sharp breath. “Don’t you think it’s time you saw what it’s like on the track?”

You blinked at him, your breath hitching. “What are you talking about?”

He straightened up, fixing his hoodie. “I’m offering you a ride, princess. Around the track. Are you up for it, or not?”

The sass in his tone lit a fire in you. You loved bike rides, the rush of speed, the wind in your hair—but doing it with him? That felt like stepping into dangerous territory. Still, your pride wouldn’t let you back down.

You crossed your arms, feigning indifference. “Fine. Let’s see if your riding skills are as good as your ego.”

Chan chuckled, the sound deep and low, and it sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Careful what you wish for, princess,” he said, stepping closer. “You might not be able to handle it.”

You scoffed, though your heart was pounding. “We’ll see about that.”

You followed Chan as he descended the stairs and made his way towards his friends, all of them surrounded with their own bikes, cans of Red Bull, wearing leather jackets.

“Yo, I.N!” Chan called out as you approached, his voice carrying over the noise of the dispersing crowd. He looked up from his phone, his expression curious.

“What’s up?” I.N asked, his brows lifting when he saw you trailing behind Chan.

Chan jerked his chin toward I.N’s helmet, which was resting on the bike parked beside him. “Hand that over. Our guest needs it.”

I.N blinked, clearly surprised. “Wait, she’s riding with you?”

“Finally got yourself a passenger?” Minho, who was leaning casually against his own bike, snorted.

“Just a little gratitude to her for being so kind and showing up to my races every week.” Chan replied smoothly, throwing you a sidelong glance.

Your cheeks flushed crimson but you didn't say anything. You couldn't because you felt like your throat was shut tight.

The group erupted into low chuckles, Minho gave Chan a knowing look, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Don’t mess up my helmet,” I.N said, handing it over. “It's my favourite one.” 

You hesitated for a moment, then took it, your fingers brushing against his. “Don't worry, I won't.” You said softly. 

The group watched you curiously as if they were waiting for you to make a mistake but Chan’s gaze was the only one you cared about. He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear.

“Nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk.

You lifted your chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Not even a little.”

His smirk deepened. “Good. Don't hold back and enjoy the ride.”

Changbin threw the keys at Chan and handed him the helmet, moving aside revealing the sleek black BMW, shining under the bright full moon light.

Chan got on the bike and you climbed up behind him. The tension crackled between you like static, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to throttle him—or hold on tighter.

The engine roared to life, the deep, guttural sound vibrating through your body. Your grip on the seat tightened as Chan revved the engine, his dimpled smirk still firmly in place as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

With a swift twist of his wrist, the bike shot forward, the sudden burst of speed forcing a gasp from your lips. Instinctively, your hands flew to his waist, gripping tightly as the world blurred around you.

The track stretched out like a silver ribbon under the moonlight, the cool night air whipping past your face, your hair dancing in the wind like a wild, untamed spirit. Chan maneuvered the bike with practiced ease, leaning into sharp turns and accelerating down straightaways.

The bike slowed slightly as he leaned into another turn, and you took the chance to glance at him. The confidence in his posture, the way his shoulders moved with the bike—it was magnetic.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, his voice cutting through the wind.

You scowled, your cheeks heating. “Focus on the road, Chan.”

“I always do,” he replied smoothly. “But you’re making it a little hard, princess.”

Your grip on his waist tightened involuntarily, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you might regret. The speed continued until Chan slowed down, pulling to a stop at the other side of the track, the starting point looking like the size of an ant.

The sudden stillness was deafening compared to the roar of the engine moments ago. The cool night air clung to your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between you and Chan.

He shifted slightly, his body still straddling the bike as he turned his head toward you, his dark eyes glinting under the pale glow of the moon. “Tight grip you’ve got there, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing. 

“Didn’t think you’d want to hold on that bad.”

***

“Ah-Chan—” your moans poured out of your lips like an erotic symphony, blood rushing down like a flood bursting out of a dam as you felt his length inside of you, breasts bouncing up and down. 

Oh you were holding on that bad. 

“Ride my cock, baby. Good girl.” Chan hissed, your pussy clenching him so nicely it drove him wild. 

What started off him not knowing your existence to getting to know eachother to now him fucking the senses out of you escalated fast. 

You can't lie, you did have fantasies about him during the nights when you scrolled through his socials. Imagining how he would be in bed. Those dirty nights when you moaned his name, imagining his cock replacing your vibrator. 

Would he be gentle? A complete opposite to the menace he was on the road?

Boy you were wrong. He was anything but gentle.

He was rough. Hard. Strong. And you enjoyed that very much. 

Chan's hand fisted your hair as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing yours drinking the taste of you. Your fingers clung onto his shoulder, nails grooving scars on his smooth skin, rocking your hips for more friction. 

His cock filled you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Every upward snap of his hips drove you closer to the edge, the friction against your walls making your toes curl.

“Chan—” you whimpered, breaking the kiss to gasp for air, your head falling back as his pace quickened.

He didn’t let up. If anything, the sight of you unraveling only spurred him on. His mouth trailed down your throat, teeth grazing your skin before he latched onto the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

His lips latched on your erect nipple, sucking and licking on it, the obscene sounds of him groaning feeling like music to your ears.

Wetness gushed down your thighs and onto his, a sinful symphony of wet, desperate noises that only fueled the fire between you.

“So fucking perfect for me.” he praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he pinched and played with your slick nipple that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. 

You felt so dirty and depraved, shamelessly riding his cock, his praises turning you on even more.

“Should I punish this pussy for stalking me baby? Hmm?” His hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit, triggering an orgasm to break free just from his words.

He already “punished” you for stalking him by bending you over and fucking you to oblivion on his bike a week ago but he is so cocky and mean, he loved using that every chance he got.

“Or should I fuck you from behind and wreck you till you make a sweet mess all over my cock?” 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your release slammed through you, your body convulsing and your walls clenched around him, drawing a deep, guttural moan from his lips. 

You couldn't even process the aftershocks of your climax and before you knew it, you were on all fours, Chan's eyes glued on your glistening slick pussy, the angry tip of his cock grazing and teasing your swollen folds. 

“Chan— mngh,” you pushed back against him, whining with need, feeling the anticipation rebuild as you kept feeling the tip nudge against your entrance.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice a dark purr that sent a shiver down your spine. “Barely gave you time to breathe, and here you are, already begging for me to ruin you again.”

Your fingers clenched the sheets, your body trembling from the mix of frustration and desire. “Please, Chan,” you breathed, voice muffled and desperate.

“Please, what?” he sneered, leaning down so his chest pressed against your back, his silver chain and bracelet on his wrist touching your skin, cold. 

His breath was hot against your ear, and his hand slid up your body to grip your throat. “You want me to fuck you? Say it.” 

Your cheeks burned, but the heat between your legs overshadowed any embarrassment. “I need you to fuck me, Chan,” you whispered, then louder, “Ruin me. Wreck me.”

He groaned at your words, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

Without another word, he thrust into you in one brutal stroke, knocking the air from your lungs. Your hands flew forward to steady yourself, a gasp tearing from your throat as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had the bed creaking beneath.

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. “So fucking cock-drunk, you can’t even think straight.” 

You tried to speak, but he cut you off with a sharp thrust that made you cry out. His grip on your waist was bruising, holding you in place as he pounded into you mercilessly. 

Every stroke hitting deeper, harder, until you were a squirming mess beneath him. His balls slapped against your clit, an almost tight hand around your throat had your vision going white.

His teeth sank into your soft skin, leaving a ruthless mark on your shoulder and his hand met with a sharp slap! on your ass. The pleasure of it overlapped the pain, relentless drilling on your sloppy cunt that made you grab the headboard.

“FUCK! I can't—” Your cries echoed off the walls of your bedroom, loud and feral.

“You can’t what?” Chan snarled, his voice laced with mockery as he dragged his cock out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting that spot and your skin meeting with another sharp slap! 

His teeth grazed your earlobe as his hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place. “Can’t take me? Too much for this tight little cunt?”

“Y-yes—no—I don’t know!” you sobbed, your fingers clawing at the headboard as your body quivered beneath him.

His hand slid up on your throat, pulling you upright so your back was flush against his chest. The new angle made you scream, his cock hitting even deeper, harder, the relentless pace leaving you on the verge of tears.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. “Scream for me, baby. Let the whole world know who’s making you feel this good.”

The way his cock kept hitting the right spots made you climb higher and higher, the knot tightening, only seconds away from snapping, your whimpers and moans poured out endlessly.

“I'm gonna come— I'm—”

You couldn't even finish your sentence as the second orgasm left you shaking, trembling and reeling beneath him. Your walls clamped down on his cock, pulling him deeper until he spilled his seed in you.

“Fuck.” Chan groaned, his grip on your throat loosening as he chased his own release. His hips stuttered, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips, cock twitching as he pumped you full.

Breaths ragged and heavy, the room was mixed in scents of mint and sex. Chan collapsed forward, but braced himself to avoid crushing you beneath his weight.

“You did so good, baby,” He murmured, his voice low and thick, trying to catch his breath while he nipped your sensitive skin.

Both of you were drenched in sweat, the mingling of your bodies making the heat in the room unbearable, yet neither of you moved.

His cock softened inside you, but he didn’t pull out. Instead, he just leaned forward kissing the nape of your neck and shifted slightly, you winced at the feeling of him still inside you, oversensitivity making your nerves spark.

Slowly your bodies untangled and he fell on his back next to you, the both of you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of what just happened settling in. 

You gently turned your head to see Chan, who was lost in his own thoughts. He felt you watching him and he turned too, a soft smile tipping the corner of his lips, his fingers brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

His eyes trailed down your body, skin peppered with his bite marks and hickeys, something unusually painful stung in his chest even though he had never felt that before.

You moved closer to him, pecking a sweet kiss on his nose that made him knit his brows smiling.

“I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me if you think you did.” You said reassuringly.

Chan let out a soft breath, his smile faltering for a moment as he studied your face. His fingers ghosted over a particularly dark bruise on your collarbone, his touch featherlight.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, his teasing edge nowhere to be found. 

You rolled your eyes, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “Of course.” He huffed out a laugh, the sound vibrating against your cheek and kissed your forehead.

Chan got up from the bed and carried you in his arms towards the shower, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh as your head rested against his chest.

Under the spraying water, the steam curled around the two of you, but his touch was what kept you warm. 

He grabbed a washcloth and the soap, lathering it before starting at your shoulders. His touch was slow and deliberate, careful not to press too hard as he cleaned every inch of your skin. 

When he reached your bruised hips, his lips ghosted over one of the marks that made your heart flutter. 

Once he was satisfied, he handed you the cloth, smirking faintly. “Your turn, princess.”

You laughed softly, taking it from him and mimicking his careful actions. You then saw the scratch marks and crescent scars you had left on his skin, etched like tiny badges.

Your fingers ghosted over them as you cleaned him, a pang of guilt flashing through your chest.

“Sorry about these,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Chan chuckled, his smirk softening into something warmer. “Don’t be. I like them."

Heat rose up your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

When you reached his bicep, you couldn’t resist tracing the outline of his tattoo, your fingers brushing over the ink that decorated his skin.

“You really are full of surprises,” you said, your voice soft.

His brow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “The rough biker with the soft side. Didn’t think I’d ever see it.”

He smirked, pulling you closer under the spray of water. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, letting the water cascade over both of you. Pearl-like drops of water slid down your bodies, your back pressed against the cold titles as Chan's mouth claimed yours. 

After the shower Chan changed into his clothes and you slipped into comfy sweats, he grabbed his keys and helmet from the living room, walking toward the door with a cool, confident stride.

“My race is on Saturday,” He said, slipping on his helmet. “I hope you'll be there, princess.” 

A chuckle escaped from your lips, your mind going back to how you went watch his races every Saturday without him knowing who you were. 

“I guess I’ll see you there, then.”

Chan nodded, opening the front door and stepping out, you watched him climb on his bike, revving the engine back to life. With a twist on the handle, he zoomed out into the night, flashing away into the stretching darkness leaving a trail of himself behind.

You couldn’t help but think that stumbling across that video online of a certain biker had definitely been the best misstep of your life.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Here's a bigger and better quality picture of my drawing of Biker Chan:

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[clonerightsagenda]

I've started noticing content warnings start popping up more frequently in the front of published books, and I'm curious as to people's thoughts on that. So, poll time!

[oceanmaiden44]

°‧Konig w/ shy reader °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

This is PART 2! Part 1

CW| Contains Sexual Content ¡MDNI!

--> Konig becomes obsessed with shy reader initiating, and becomes a wild animal when they finally do <3

One-shots⋆.࿔*: ¡MDNI!

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

As he makes his way towards you, you can feel your pussy clench and sob on nothing and you stare at his hard dick. You can feel the air become sickingly warm again, and then you feel his eyes rake over your fcuked out figure lying on the bed.

You feel his large calloused hand massage your body, travelling down: rubbing your cheeks from your tears, cupping your breast and travellings down to your thighs.

Opening your legs, you feel his hand spread your folds open, letting you recoat his fingers in your slick. Ignoring you shuttering from the sensation.

You feel it. His large dick slide between your folds. His hand massaging you clit nice and slow causing you to shudder further. His dick covered in you slick prods at you aching hole.

He leans down to kiss you, and your can taste your own slick. His dick slowly sinking in, and you feel it tickle all the right spots.

He starts off nice & slow, but you can feel him pick up the pace, abusing your sweet spot. You were seeing stars before, but now you're seeing galaxies.

His trust don't even give you time to moan, your just choking out whimpers and sobs as you can feel yourself building up to that high.

Konigs reaching there to, he's picked you off the bed and is gripping your hips, fucking you like a flashlight. Your feet dangling above the floor, with no more feeling as juices and precum run down them.

You reach your climax before him, and he pauses his pistoning thrust to watch you squirt all over his abdomen, and make a puddle on the floor. Licking his lips knowing what it taste like.

When you calm down again, he renters, and continues at his brutal pace, and you feel his thrust become more sparratic. Not that you care anymore, your all fucked dumb, your brains to mush and all you want is more pleasure. Pleasure that only Konig can give you.

His thrust are fast and he's pushing his full length in and mixing up your insides. Then Konig reaches his climax, and you can feel his hot milky cum enter your womb and spill out your sore hole. Mixing with your juices it runs down your legs, mixing into a big puddle on the floor. You can feel his hands gripping into your hips, keeping you right where he needs you. You might've cum a little again by just the thought of his hand marks on your hips in the morning.

Your mewling, moaning, and black in his ear. Curved up hands reached and around his neck. Your not shy anymore, your konigs little cum dump <3

When you both have calmed down a bit, Konig lays you down on the bed and kisses your forehead. You can hear distantly the bath water running, and you can feel konigs cum deep within you. Warm

All is well

｡𖦹˚.🪼₊ ๋࣭ ⭑-- Thank you all so much for your support, it was my first time writing out my ideas like this, and every note made me feel that much better about it <3

(✿˘ω˘)˘ε˘˶ )

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Drama queen

Warning ⚠️; Blood, cursing, French

Pairing; Bottom!Lestat/Top!Male!Reader

Summary; Another night, another fight and Lestat decided to be a drama queen

~~~~~~~~~~

You stepped aside, allowing the cup to hit the wall behind you instead of your face. You rolled your eyes when Lestar grabbed another one and it quickly joined the other on the ground in pieces. As usual, your lover was being a drama queen and acted like it was the end of the world when this was quite a simple dispute.

Well, one that Lestat had started.

Because you didn't kill a woman who flirted with you… in masquerade. A very public and busy masquerade. And now the theatrical queen was accusing you of not loving him anymore or wanting to cheat on him. The usual when anyone looked your way and not his, you were used to it.

- “Lestat, are you over it or are you going to keep throwing things at me like a petulant child?” You asked with a sigh.

- “Va te faire foutre, connard!” He cursed in French, making you roll your eyes.

You walked up to Lestat as he was searching for something else to throw at you and wrapped your arms around his waist. He fought you, hitting your chest and trying to push you away, but you didn't budge, simply looking down at him with a smile.

He was such a jealous man, a hypocrite and a fool, but he was yours and you also knew just how deeply Lestat loved. God knew just how much you meant to him and Lestat latching out was more out of fear of losing you than anger.

You kissed Lestat on the forehead and your lover finally calmed down in your embrace. His fists clenched your shirt and you chuckled when you felt Lestat pulling you closer, his fangs brushing over your jaw.

- “You are such a drama queen my love.” You sighed, pressing your head against his and smiled. “And a fool. How could I look at another person when I have an Adonis in my arms? There is no one out there, not a human or a vampire, that more gorgeous than you. I should be the one worried you'll find someone else.”

Lestat snorted but said nothing. You could feel his breath against your neck as he nuzzled his face there. You closed your eyes and just savoured the moment, appreciating the end of the fight. You hated it each time. It made you feel like shit even tho it wasn't your fault. It was just how Lestat was and there was no changing him.

You didn't want him to change either. Maybe just be a bit less jealous would be great.

You laughed feeling his fangs against your skin again.

- “Is my drama queen hungry?” You asked, lips brushing against Lestat’s

- “Yes.” He replied with a smirk.

You passed your arms under his ass and lifted him up. Lestat laughed, making you feel better and you carried him to the bedroom. You sat him down on your coffin and undressed to change in better clothes.

You felt Lestat hands on you the second your clothes were off. His fingers traced every muscle, every curb of your body and it made you shiver. You turned around and were met with his lips on yours. You chuckled and rested your hands on his hips.

- “I thought you said you were hungry.” You teased, passing your hands under his shirt. Lestat laughed and tilted his head as you kissed his neck, fangs brushing his thin skin.

- “Never said what I was hungry for.”

You laughed as Lestat took your hand, pulling you toward the coffin. His lips found yours and you didn't resist when he pushed you down in the coffin. Your hands found his waist and you watched as Lestat took off his shirt. You couldn't resist and caressed his chest, fingers tracing his muscles.

You grunted when Lestat bit down on your neck, fangs piercing the skin easily. You felt your blood rushing out and growled your own fangs out as you dug your fingers into his hips.

- “Fuck, Lestat!” You gasped, feeling his tongue clean the wound.

You shivered as Lestat stared at you, his eyes filled with hunger. You smiled and cupped his face in your hands before kissing him, devouring his lips.

You woke up first the next night, Lestat’s naked body against yours. Your hands gently brushed his hair off his face before caressing his angelic face. Asleep, Lestat looked almost innocent and harmless, which was the opposite of the truth.

He was like Lucifer. The most beautiful among you, and the most twisted one. You never met someone who could go from one extreme to the other and who could show such cruelty while killing.

And yet you loved only him more.

- “I can feel you staring at me, mon coeur. Tu sais que c’est mal élevé de regarder les gens dormir?” Lestat said, yawning.

- “Maybe, but who cares? I can't look away from such beauty.” You replied, stealing a kiss.

Lestat snorted and freed you from his grip, allowing you to get out of the coffin. You felt his eyes on you as you walked up to the dryer and picked a few clothes. Behind you he grunted once you dressed up, but he soon followed your example.

Before long you two walked the streets of London, the rain falling lightly, almost like a mist, around you. There wasn't a lot of people outside and it was perfect; no witnesses for when you'll be feeding.

Lestat was the first to find a meal. He bounced on a man in a dark alley the second you set foot there. You smiled, watching your lover feed, blood rolling down his chin. You shivered hearing the man’s spine snap when Lestat turned his head a bit too hard.

Of course, everything was wanted. Lestat was too much in controlll of his strength for it to be an accident.

After letting go of the body, Lestat turned his head toward you, licking his bloody lips and fingers with a smirk. You chuckled and walked up to him, stepping over the corpse before kissing Lestat, tasting the blood on his lips.

- “Am I supposed to see it as a thread?” You asked as Lestat wrapped his arms around your neck.

- “Maybe more like a promise.” He replied, tilting his head. “The promise that what I’ll do to the next person flirting with you.”

- “Really?” You asked, snorting. “Does it mean I can do the same? There is a last lover of yours I might have in mind.”

This time, Lestat lost his smile and looked away. He knew you were talking about Louis. You weren't one to be easily jealous, but his relationship with Louis was the exception. Louis who had tried to murder Lestat, Louis who had chosen someone else over him... Yes, you had every reason to hate the man and be jealous of how much Lestat still loved him.

Louis didn't deserve him.

- “Because if you can kill whoever flirt with me, than I can do the same.” You said, taking Lestat’s chin between your fingers.

- “It’s not the same.” Lestat whispered and you tilted your head. “You already want him dead, you hate Louis.”

- “How can I not when I see how much pain you still carry because of him?”

Only silence answered you and you sighed, resting your forehead against Lestat’s. He closed his eyes, hands gripping your shirt and in the darkness of the night, you still saw tears of blood in his eyes. With your thumb, you chassed them away and felt guilty. This time you were the one hurting him.

- “I am sorry, mon amour, I took it too far. C’mon, let me make it up to you.” You whispered against his lips. “I know a place where they sing and dance, I’m sure you'll like it. We might even find our next meal there.”

Lestat smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Yet he still kissed you and nodded. He was the one who took your hand in his and you squeezed it before leading him to the pub. Lestat was a drama queen, but he was also such a sensible soul, something you often forgot.

At the pub, you saw light going back into Lestat’s eyes as you danced and sang with the mortals. After a few hours you could tell all was forgotten and pardoned. You allowed Lestat to choose your next meal and when your future victim left, so did the two of you.

You let Lestat hunt her down and take the first bite, another way for you to ask for forgiveness. But as you fed next, you felt Lestat’s fingers on your neck and face as he traced your muscles. Staring into his eyes you only saw love.

Yes. Lestat might be a Drama Queen, but he when he loved, he loved with all his soul. You were the one he loved now. Not Louis or Armand, but you. You knew right there and then that no matter his caprices and tantrum, Lestat would stay by your side just like you would stay by his.

[mirensiart]

do you still put the "major character death" warning in a fic if it's just a temporary thing, but still uh the central plot of the fic?

or do you only put it if it's like, permanent?

also don't worry about me asking about this hahaha it's nothing to worry about hehe

[johanna-swann]

A conversation I've recently seen on tumblr that I think is worth mentioning in the context of the latest Buck&Eddie fight:

Abusers usually don't become abusers on purpose. They don't act on the thought of "how can I be evil towards my loved ones today?" They're not always consciously aware of their manipulation tactics. They do still love the people they hurt.

For example I don't think Eddie thought "I can use my son to emotionally manipulate my best friend", but he knew that having Christopher around would make Buck calmer and happy, maybe even thankful towards Eddie for making this reunion possible. That's why he flew Chris in on short notice - to make Buck feel better. But this way he also conveniently avoided having to confront his own actions and apologise, leaving Buck as the only one who accepts blame.

I don't think he meant to scare Buck by getting physical either, Eddie was just expressing his anger - but it still put Buck in a position where he probably was scared of Eddie physically hurting him. It was at least a possibility.

And Eddie constantly telling Buck to stop whining about his own hurt feelings and think about Eddie instead probably wasn't meant as anything but a cry for help, a "I'm here too! I'm hurting too!", but the message Eddie is sending here is "my feelings are more important than yours and you should prioritise accordingly".

Eddie never apologising for anything and waiting for Buck to apologise instead probably just comes from a place of insecurity and wounded pride, but it sends the message that Buck is always wrong and Eddie is always right or has nothing to apologise for.

Eddie talking positively about Buck and showing concern for his emotional well being around mutual friends in Buck's absence, but yelling at him in private wasn't planned, but it gives outsiders a distorted image of what the friendship actually looks like. Worse, if Buck at any point later goes to Hen and Karen to talk about Eddie's behaviour they will remember how Eddie was worried. They will take Buck's words with a grain of salt because Eddie has established himself as a caring friend in their eyes. Which wasn't Eddie's intent at all, he does care about Buck and impulsively blew up at him later.

But intent doesn't change the outcome. I know Eddie is going through it. I know he has trauma and grief and that Buck isn't perfect. But he's presenting a long list of bright red flags that are text book examples of emotional abuse and it has become a pattern that started at least 5 years ago with the lawsuit arc.