#i spent so much time experimenting with it

[ybklix]

the way

★ pairing: softdom!bangchan x inexperiencedfem!reader PART FOUR (final series) OF THE PROJECT 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ part one 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ part two 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ part three

✦summary: Now you get the full experience of dating the kind of guy you thought you’d never fall for. It’s all late-night laughs, sweet touches, and moments that feel like a dream, but there’s certainly always something new to learn about him, or with him.

♡ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fuff, college au, established relationship, tight riding, clit play, fingering, cunnilingus, marking, handjob, oral sex, teasing, pet names, light exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, possessive chan ?

word count: 20.1k

masterlist ⭒ taglist

♡ the way by ariana grande ♡ love on the brain by rihanna ♡

(all the parts have been sweetly requested! — I add one thing or two for the narrative hehe)

wen’s note: cheesy ahh song for inspo, as per usual. i tried to be sweet :p. sorry this took so longgg omg lol, for my tp stansss, thanks for +5k notes in the original (first part) post :3 also this is the final series omg so sad, soo... the end?

As far as you knew, everything was strangely perfect. It was only a matter of time before Chan started acting even more affectionately, especially now that you were official, which excited him too much.

You had never had that kind of connection or little distraction in your life; you didn’t even have the words to describe it any more. It was unexpected, the way you fell so deeply in love with Chan from one moment to the next, going from being complete strangers to complementing each other.

It was a cheesy, sweet, and shy love that grew with each passing day. You never thought you’d be in that position, but being with Chan made everything clear. He made you laugh, he made you happy, he listened to every little thing you had to say, you talked too much, and you spent more time together. He planned the perfect dates, and you went along with his pace and plan, always offering an opinion, despite being the slightly nosy and extremely worrisome person you were, which he loved about you. For you, it could be said that Chan was your first love. You weren’t the type of girl who fell in love easily, especially in the past years of your youth, walking arm in arm with a boy in the school hallways; you considered it unnecessary and slightly ridiculous, but with Chan, it was different. Neither of you were kids; you were in college, and he was a real man, so it was so easy for you to fall in love with him. He was cute, sweet, attentive, silly… and incredibly handsome. He was absolutely everything you never thought he would be.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up too high, because part of you was afraid of getting hurt, and… it might sound corny, or make you look blind, but with him, you felt that he wasn’t that kind of person. The moment you were both experiencing was so incredibly sweet.

On the other hand, Chan had been dying for you since that sweet moment when your tenderness and intelligence dazzled him. That’s when he knew, but circumstances made him shy and nervous… How could he approach you when he knew so little about you before? You didn’t go to parties often enough to bump into each other magically, and he hardly ever saw you on campus. How could he approach you, the most beautiful and intelligent girl in his eyes? You always lived in your own world, and now he was part of it. That project had been the perfect excuse, the little push he needed, and now you were together.

You were so different, but you always managed to coordinate. You were still shy, it was your nature, and that kept Chan enchanted, although it was clear that you were feeling more and more confident, you trusted him completely, you felt free to be yourself, comfortable, and loved. Sometimes you stopped to think… how suddenly it was possible.

You were in that phase where you were exploring your relationship, and it felt so pure and innocent to the public eye, being with you all the time without seeming strange or cloying. He spent time with you, walking together on campus, studying and eating together, and talking for hours. He always took you out on the town, convincing you to go on even the smallest of dates… and in private, you loved each other passionately without any restrictions. All your sweet love blended perfectly with the obscenity and intimacy of the sex you shared. Chan and you were highly sexual, your chemistry in bed was irremediable, but just as he could fill you with all his sweet love, he also offered you many other things.

You didn’t understand why, perhaps because you were still somewhat inexperienced when it came to sex, but there was something about Chan that made you feel uncontrollably and undeniably horny. And sometimes it was hard for you to express it, because you didn’t want your connection to be purely sexual. After all, you recognized all the beautiful things that connected the two of you, plus you didn’t want to seem obvious or slightly sick, or the fact that you were still inexperienced made you nervous. Because it was true, he drove you absolutely crazy, and you knew a thing or two about his past, where he used to have other girlfriends before you. He didn’t talk about it directly or often, because it wasn’t relevant to him, his present, and his girlfriend now was you, who was all that mattered to Chan, you were his whole world now, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel curious about the girls he had dated before...

Chan was so sweet to you that having those kinds of thoughts about who exactly his exes were sometimes made you feel bad. You knew it all—that he was right for you, because that time he asked you to be his girlfriend didn’t stay that way; but a few days later, he became a little nervous and suspicious, suddenly taking a keen interest, more than usual, in the clothes you wore. He wanted your opinion on everything, what colors you liked, what you felt comfortable and pretty in, and if he gave you the option of letting him buy you whatever you wanted, what exactly you would ask for.

After that, you understood that his behavior was because he was secretly planning a nice date. And he told you just one day before. You changed all your plans for him, which basically consisted of schoolwork and the occasional tutoring session for younger students, because you could see how tenderly excited and thrilled your boyfriend was about the date.

Chan chose everything for you: the dress, your shoes... He took you to a nice place, gave you flowers, and then you talked while he drove around the city with no fixed destination, until he stopped. You noticed that he was a little nervous and tense, so that day you asked him what was wrong, and he insisted on getting out for a moment, avoiding the question.

You thought that night was just that. Another nice date, but Chan’s intention was even nicer and sweeter, and you had no idea. It was his way of asking you to be his girlfriend, once again, in a more intimate, comfortable, vulnerable space, and this time with both of you fully clothed, or at least that was Chan’s line of reasoning.

You saw him, he looked certainly uncomfortable and nervous, and then you looked around, dark, alone, but you felt in a way that being there, surrounded by trees and with the presence of the starlit sky, was warm and comforting. You turned to look at Chan with a smile, as you immediately thought that you were there to stargaze, and suddenly it seemed extremely tender and sweet to you.

But you noticed your boyfriend’s expression, licking his lips, and gathering the courage to tell you.

“Y/n... I want to ask you something very important.”

The way he said it alarmed you a little, and you whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“I want to ask you... Once again in a more appropriate place, between you and me,” he took your hands, caressing them, intertwining them with his while looking at you sweetly, “would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Your slightly worried expression changed in seconds, and a smile appeared on your face. You didn’t understand it at the time.

“I thought I was already your girlfriend?” you joked.

“I wanted a nicer moment than when I asked you that... it was... something immature, right after we—mm, you know,” he said, making a funny face.

You giggled, the fact that you thought he might have been planning and thinking about it for days, asking you this, knowing Chan, seemed really adorable to you. How could a man like him be so cute to you?

“Well... would you like that?” he added, curious, raising an eyebrow, looking at you amused.

“Yes, Chan... but hey, but then what date will we use as our anniversary now?”

“The...” he leaned in close to you, to give you a soft, tender, quick kiss, “date you like best, sweetheart.”

“Ahh, and...” Chan let go of you to go to the back of his car, leaving you slightly confused for a few seconds, and you knew as soon as he came back, “this is for you. Open them.”

You couldn’t believe it; you hadn’t even noticed that they had been hidden in his car all this time. With Chan, anything was possible. Even though he was just a college student like everyone else, you knew he had money, but you never wanted to take advantage of that in any way; that wasn’t why you loved him. Your boyfriend tenderly handed you, with his typical smile, narrowing his beautiful eyes, two bags of designer jewelry, Swarovski and Tiffany & CO. They were bracelets, the latter of which was thick and looked a lot like the bracelets he always wore. Now you matched adorably.

“Oh, Channie, you shouldn’t have spent so much on me.”

Although you loved being pampered, you still didn’t want to say it, even though he already knew... the way your eyes sparkled when you opened his gift and how the corners of your lips trembled as you tried to hide your big smile and act more modest.

“Why?” he took you by the waist, pulling you close to his body, looking at you defiantly in a playful way, “You’re my girlfriend and I want to give you everything. You deserve so much more. I’ll give you everything you deserve, little by little, love, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

That night was very beautiful. You really believed it would stay that way, between laughter, asking you to be his girlfriend in his arms after a very vulnerable moment you shared together... but no, as always, he had to find a way to make it even more special. From then on, you had high and very good expectations of him, even better than before. You knew he knew how to treat you very well.

He understood perfectly that you were getting used to something new, so he always tried to balance what a relationship entailed so that you would never get bored, taking you out of your comfort zone from time to time and taking you to new places, as well as respecting the fact that you will always love the idea of a nice, warm, relaxed, and intimate plan between the two of you, something as nice as him cooking for you and watching movies in your apartment... where, being alone, it was inevitable not to show the passionate love and attraction you felt for each other. That’s why Chan was always gentle, excited, and delighted by the way you were still learning more and more.

The sex between the two of you was wonderful, and Chan spent most of his time at your apartment because you lived alone. You always teased him that you were going to get a roommate, but that didn't suit him at all, as he would no longer have his space alone, his sacred space where those walls had witnessed your first kisses and many other things until now.

You simply drove him crazy. He loved waking up next to you and doing romantic and somewhat cloying things. He loved just being with you. Your presence brightened his day, but with each day you spent together, you grew more and more confident in him, showing your true side, letting yourself receive all the wonders and advantages of being Chan’s girlfriend, such as his incredible, sweet and passionate love and affection, which went hand in hand with the great lessons and hot sessions of intimacy that you both shared.

You were still a little shy, you couldn’t deny it, how were you supposed to tell him that the simple way he sat at your table, focused on his work, comfortably wearing a sleeveless shirt exposing his strong arms, and the way his brow was slightly furrowed, his concentrated gaze focused on his laptop screen while he subtly bit and licked his velvety lips, was making you uncontrollably turned on, and wet.

With Chan, it was always like that, a consumable passion, teachings, touches, and the sweetest care after the act. You couldn’t ask for anything better. You felt loved and desired during the vulnerability of that precarious act.

In situations like this, you approached him, shyly but dangerously, with desire in your eyes and a slight change in your breathing. With every step you took to get closer to him, as you admired him from afar, you could already feel him, taste him, imagine all the hot scenarios you could be in at that moment, in all the intimacy that awaited you both the moment Chan read all your intentions.

You put your hand on his broad shoulder, and in response, he smiled sweetly at you, looking away from his laptop and focusing on you. For a second, you felt dirty because he looked at you sweetly with his bright eyes and whispered softly:

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You bit your lower lip softly; that soft whisper was so hot, you were unable to find the words to express how incredibly much you wanted him. That you need him.

You shook your head, trying to downplay it, as if you didn’t have that constant tingling down there in your intimate area and the unsettling sensation of your glands moistening your folds, all just from seeing how good your boyfriend looked.

“Nothing. I’m done with my work, how about you? Do you have a lot left? Can I help you?” You tried to sound disinterested, but with each question, you developed a subtly more needy tone.

You made Chan laugh softly, and almost as if by magic, as if he could read your mind, he moved away from the table, pushing himself away attractively with his foot, took your wrist, and gently pulled you onto his lap. You felt relief and impatience at the same time.

“You’re going to distract me, huh?” he hummed in a low tone.

Your body tensed up in seconds. His closeness made you nervous, his face so close to your cheek and ear. Suddenly, you became so flustered that you couldn’t even turn to look at him and could only see him out of the corner of your eye. You were impressed by how quickly he understood everything. So for a moment, you remained rigid on his lap while he wrapped his strong arms around your body.

“No...” you murmured, your heart began to race, his legs suddenly began to feel more comfortable, and your desire for him began to intensify little by little. “I told you that if you need help, I can help you. I’m not going to distract you from your work.”

You turned shyly, still not looking him in the eyes, but getting the perfect view of his chin, his luscious lips, the smooth texture of his neck, chest, and shoulders, his light skin, his veins exposed by his sleeveless shirt. You played with the collar of his shirt, not wanting to play innocent, but simply because that was your way.

You were so pathetically turned on, and he was just so close, and you were sitting on his lap, but his strong grip, his heavy arm dropping its weight on your bare thighs, was inevitable.

And you drove him crazy in a second, the way you moved your legs in the air, nervous, impatient, sweetly, wearing one of his hoodies and uselessly tiny shorts... while avoiding looking him in the eyes, as if you didn’t know each other well enough...

He licked his lips, unable to bear having you so sweetly on his lap when the tension between you was growing. He knew exactly what you wanted, so why not give it to you? He wants it too, right there, and he adores you immensely.

“Oh, I really need your help right now,” he murmured, impatiently letting out a sigh, gently lifting your chin with his hand, making you look him in the eyes. “I know exactly what you want, but why don’t you tell me out loud, baby girl? I thought we had already talked about and overcome those moments of shyness.”

But your naivety and innocence drove him crazy. You were the smartest and most outstanding girl he knew, but when he touched you, you became vulnerable and somewhat irrational.

“What?” you whispered breathlessly, completely lost in the closeness of his face.

He just wanted to tease you.

“I want to hear everything you want me to do to you,” he repeated, encouraging you.

His right hand began to caress your thighs more constantly, moving up and down your skin, almost reaching a dangerous place, making you even more nervous and excited, adding to the fact that you were about to kiss him, his nose dangerously brushing against your face, and his gaze penetrating you. His other hand played with his hoodie on your back, and you lost control when his hand caressed your lower back, slipping his hand inside the garment.

You sighed. A little afraid that he might feel your fragile body, hopelessly aroused and trembling. And of course, he noticed, and he loved every second of it.

“I need you, Chan. I want you to fuck me,” you joked, your eyes sparkling with a soft smile and a giggle. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Your attempt to not seem needy wasn’t working. The joke was too much for him. He let out a ragged sigh; it was too late, he was already imagining having you. He was losing control over you, and you could feel his arousal growing beneath your body.

“Isn’t that what you want, then?” he said slowly, teasing you, “Huh? Isn’t that why you came to me so sweetly needy?” His hand reached almost to your inner thighs and squeezed them. He leaned close to your ear and whispered, “Why are you so still then? Letting me touch you...? You haven’t asked me to stop.”

You looked at him intensely, and there was no turning back. Your attempts to control your desires were so pathetic, but they drove him crazy and seemed so cute to him. You both needed each other so badly right now.

“Because I don’t want you to stop.”

You leaned toward him just a little, since you were both so close to each other, and that was enough to catch his lips.

Chan kissed you slowly, carefree and unhurried, enjoying the kiss, even though he could sense your hasty and abrupt movements against him, slightly desperate; yet he did it at his own pace, forcing you to adapt to him, to a passionate, slow, and meaningful kiss. Your hands went to his manly face, holding it delicately and trembling softly against it. His hands caressed your body more, your thighs, teasing you when he got close to your private area, and your back under that hoodie. Chan almost moaned as he caressed your entire back and found it so vulnerable, with no sign of a bra.

So that’s how you were, walking around your house with him, practically in panties and his oversized hoodie.

As you pulled apart, both of you gasping for breath, you looked at each other, and he noticed that look in your eyes, almost reflecting fire. He was madly in love with you. You needed him so much, and he loved being required by you.

Chan bit his lip softly and decided to play with your temperament a little, taking advantage of you, in a way. He loved playing with you, pressing all the right buttons to get you so aroused for him, so he gently and nimbly spread your legs a little and decided to play with your clit, pressing it against the fabric of your shorts.

You gasped, surprised, opening your eyes and breathless, shifting slightly on his lap and gently clinging to his hand, touching you. Chan chuckled, finding your reaction tenderly pleasurable and amusing, your tense body on top of his, letting you enjoy what you wanted so much but were too shy to say.

You watched his hand lost in you, under the oversized hoodie that covered it, and moaned softly as you felt him become more solid, his long fingers pressing against your folds trapped in your comfortable fabric shorts. And then you saw him, your gaze so desperate, your eyebrows adorning your face completely surrendered to him, crying out for your boyfriend, you could even feel his erection against you, you needed him so much that you weren’t in the mood for your arousal to increase and tease you, but he had other plans, and not letting you get what you wanted so easily was part of them. As much as he adored you, he loved putting you in a position where you were so hot, enjoying every moment of the situation.

He reached forward, sliding his hand inside your shorts and panties, making you sigh; finally, his fingers found the real, warm sensation of your pussy, your clit almost sweetly popping out just for him, for his pleasure and to control you with it.

“Cha-channie, please” you begged, looking at him with bright eyes.

You were on the verge of something, and he hadn’t even started yet.

“Please, what? Do you think I don’t notice how naughtily needy you are for me? Honey, let me take care of it.”

You nodded, biting your lip and letting yourself go, which was sweetly killing you. Your sex throbbed hard, and your stiff muscles began to despair. His fingers slid deeply into your folds, filling almost perfectly every space in your soaked pussy. Chan could feel you, and that sent a disturbing shock through his whole body and his cock. He loved having you like this.

“Mmm... so soft... and wet for me, baby. I can almost taste your sweet pussy in my mouth...”

“Then do it,” you almost begged, interrupting him, your gaze meekly asking for him again as your breathing quickened.

“You’re a little minx, princess. Weren’t you shy five seconds ago?” His smile widened. “Do you want to help me, sweetheart? Remember the first time I helped you a little?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and moaning as you felt his fingers slide into you without mercy. That night, when everything started...

“Why don’t you help me...? I want to see you like this, needing me... mmm, you can rub yourself on my thigh.”

“What?”

His words took you by surprise, causing you to look at him with confusion.

“Open your legs, sit on my thigh, and move as if you were riding me, sweetheart” he explained slowly.

You blinked rapidly in front of his face, understanding but finding the idea strange... something new you were about to explore.

You obeyed your boyfriend, holding onto his strong chest and beginning to move timidly.

“Come on... stimulate your clit, sweetie, I want your pussy well prepared for when I eat it.”

He smiled, satisfied as he held your hips under the hoodie. You looked into his eyes so lasciviously as you did so. You bit your lip trying to hold back your moans, but the more you moved, the more you understood... the hard pressure of his strong, muscular thigh, pressing and teasing your much-needed center so precisely and perfectly.

And without knowing it, he was preparing you for something even better, with his strong build, controlling you with ease, putting you on the table, removing your shorts and panties, and then delighting each other, you from his lips and skillful mouth devouring you completely with a voracious hunger that left you gently trembling in your first orgasm, and him delighting in your juices and prepared cunt, from your trembling, well-stimulated, and well-attended pussy. Then he stripped you completely naked, desperately removing his hoodiefrom you, putting you back on top of him, filling you completely, whimpering at his breathtaking cock size, guiding you to ride him while playing with your breasts and never forgetting to kiss you and talk sweetly to you throughout the whole process...

And that was a little bit of your passionate moments in your apartment, him exploring you with such devotion and affection, attending to you just the way you liked it. Being attentive to your every need. While he showed you more and more of everything he could give you and make you feel…

But then you returned to reality.

Both of you maintained your different and busy routines at the hectic school… but when night came, you couldn’t help but feel lonely. All it took was a subtle, light text message suggesting how much you missed him and that you wished you could sleep and cuddle with him, for him to show up at your door, his eyes shining and looking so tender and hot at the same time. He always looked so docile and gentle with you, in contrast to his muscular appearance and the power he commanded in his daily life as a college student.

But that’s how things were. Even so, your college life continued, still. You were getting used to having time for your boyfriend and having the proper time to study and keep up with your career. As for your relationship, it was known that you were somewhat shy about public displays of affection, and the fact that you were dating one of the most handsome and popular guys on campus attracted the attention of others at first. There was a lot of gossip, and your relationship was unexpected, but at the end of the day, you didn’t care what anyone thought. You had Chan, and he had you.

You continued with your routines, and you, in particular, had a routine that Chan wasn’t entirely convinced about, and that was your strange little job as a tutor. Normally, he didn’t think it was a big deal, and there was nothing to worry about.

It was pretty normal; he understood. You were incredibly smart and made money tutoring your juniors. It was such a sweet and nice thing to do, and very common for the sweet person you were.

He knew absolutely everything: Monday, Becky, a freshman; Tuesday, Jay; Wednesday, Jake, both sophomores. Everything was fine, except for those special days, Thursday and Friday, when you had a particular student: Yang Jeongin. A junior. Spoiled and popular one. He filled Chan with a rage that he had to learn to control, and of all of them, he was the one who paid you the most for tutoring hours.

Jeongin was everything you thought Chan was at first—and you were slightly wrong in every assumption, but you weren’t so wrong about Jeongin, handsome and popular, a typical college playboy.

You had to admit he was quite cute; he was usually attentive and respectful to you. He was a nice guy despite his reputation, which had nothing to do with his confident personality that radiated every second he spent with you.

At first, it was just a few days of tutoring, but then Jeongin became insistent, asking if you could see each other more often, forcing you to give him your number in case of an emergency, and subtly trying to text you. None of that seemed right to Chan. He already knew what was going on, from the moment you decided to increase your number of sessions with Jeongin, you told your boyfriend, casually, just so he would know what you would be doing after class, not because he needed to know and worry that you were with another guy, because you genuinely have no intention whatsoever with Jeongin.

But boy, did it bother Chan. He thought he knew what Jeongin wanted from you. He could see it, feel it. He knew how someone like him might think, having such a pretty girl teaching him, at his disposal, close to him... Oh, of course Chan was more than upset, and just thinking about it made him furious.

Even Chan tried to convince you not to accept, that you didn’t need the extra money from tutoring if that's what you needed... But no, Chan grimaced and looked at you tenderly, because you were such a sweet person, so pure in his eyes that he knew you were going to do it with the most sincere intentions, trying to help the poor boy younger than you who was in trouble. Chan couldn’t be mad at you; it made him love you even more. But he simply couldn't stand the fact that someone like him was spending what were supposed to be your free afternoons with you, his girlfriend.

Chan knew everything about him, and not just because—although that was a big part of his interest—you were spending time together. But your boyfriend knew exactly what the look Jeongin always gave you meant, without shame, even when you were with Chan.

Jeongin was a flirt, but he was the real player type. His reputation was spot on: a guy from a powerful fraternity, handsome, wealthy, young, and irresponsible. Jeongin was the leader of Chan’s rival fraternity, and he chose it that way, even when Hyunjin and Chan himself wanted to recruit him a few years ago. Rumors said that Jeongin refused because he didn’t want to be a protégé, let alone a follower of Chan.

Since then, Chan didn’t think much of Yang Jeongin... until he came into your life, causing your poor boyfriend so much helplessness with the carefree and brazen way Jeongin clearly tries to flirt with you and seduce you.

But until now, everything was going well. He could tolerate it. He didn’t want to seem toxic by forbidding you or controlling who you could and couldn’t tutor, when he knew perfectly well that you were doing it out of kindness, for a little money, and because you liked to study and/or review more in the process of teaching. You were a dream come true.

So Chan continued with his normal routine. The last message you had sent him was that you were with Jeongin in the east wing library. He mentioned that he was about to go to the gym with some of his friends... and from there, there was no response from you. Chan finished at 5:30 p.m., still without a response from you, when normally you would have already sent him a message to meet you in the library. He tried to relax, not to invade your space, so he went to his dorm room to clean up, take a shower, and wait for you. He got a little distracted chatting with the guys, and when he checked the time, he still didn’t have a message from you.

He insisted again, asking if everything was okay, if you could let him know when to pick you up, but still no response. He called you, and you rejected his call. That was enough. He was slightly annoyed, with a rage that clouded his judgment because at this point he was already heading to the supposed library where you were supposed to be, the last place you told him you would be, with Jeongin.

And you, for your part, like any good girl, would never lie to Chan. You were in the same place, doing what you told him you would be doing. But you were so focused on helping Jeongin with important paperwork, and he asked you if you could extend your hours, and in the end, you agreed, after seeing his big, bright eyes practically begging you and finding him extremely cute. He was like a child to you, younger and in trouble, ready to learn.

You were extremely focused on helping and advancing with Jeongin as much as possible, so you both put your phones on Do Not Disturb mode. You lost track of time and, for a moment, forgot that you hadn’t replied to your boyfriend.

Hours had passed. Jeongin was tired. You started at 3 p.m., took a short break at 5, where you went to the bathroom and got some water, completely forgetting to check your phone. And then, you went back to studying. At a certain point, he was annoyed, but not with you, never with you. The extra hours were just an excuse; Jeongin wanted to be as close to you as possible, for as long as possible.

At first, his infatuation with you was fun. He thought you were hot, a smart and hot girl, and he couldn’t stop fantasizing about you... But as time went by, he admired you more, seeing you with kindness, sweetness, and... not forgetting how much he wanted you.

Jeongin was mesmerized by you. At a certain point in the session, he didn’t even know what you were talking about... he just watched you... your complexion as you held the book, the gentle way you adjusted your glasses. You were so incredible, almost perfect, but you had one small flaw—or so he thought—and that was that you were with Chan.

Chan, Chan, Chan. Jeongin must have known that he would be the start of his problems, since the moment Jeongin joined the rival fraternity, the two of them clashed a little. But now... Jeongin knew you had something going on with Chan; at this point, the whole campus knew, but he didn’t know how serious you were with each other, and he really didn’t care to know. He wanted you for himself, and in his mind, it’s never too late to try and get what he wants so badly.

There was just something about you... Something so cute, delicate, and sweet every time you saw each other. But you were just being nice and professional with him... while Jeongin’s imagination ran wild.

He watched you, more and more... long seconds of intense stares, every move you made seemed to be in slow motion. He watched your profile, your lips moving, your exposed neck, your thin necklace falling down your chest... his breathing quickened a little. Sitting there was tedious, but it was worth it to be close to you and your sweet scent and presence. Jeongin half smiled, losing himself in the small cleavage of your blouse and the fact that you were wearing a skirt.

You weren’t stupid, you knew he was watching you, maybe too much, but you preferred to pretend you didn’t notice, that it wasn’t what it seemed, and that maybe... he was paying attention to you and the session.

He didn’t know if it was fatigue, but somehow you drove him crazier, his desire for you, to kiss you and take you, intensified, so he couldn’t help but flirt with you a little.

“Oh, I’ll get my laptop out now, I’m a little tired of taking notes by hand.”

Jeongin interrupted you. You nodded, slightly confused because he wasn’t really writing anything down, so you just played it cool.

He was sitting to your right, there was a decent distance between you, yet you were still close, but in the middle of that distance was Jeongin’s backpack, so he strategically leaned towards it, getting the cutest and best detailed view of your thighs exposed by your skirt. He licked his lips, in his mind, cursing Chan for getting everything from you. Not believing he was worthy of you. He still believed he could be better than your boyfriend in many ways.

Jeongin took advantage of the opportunity, knowing it was wrong... that he shouldn’t... but an invisible force took hold of him every time he was near you. Besides, you were practically alone. He chose that library because he knew it was rarely frequented, so he pretended to lose his balance a little as he leaned over to hold his laptop, grabbing your thigh tightly, pretending that it was the first thing he could hold on to without damaging his device.

You flinched at his unexpected touch. You looked with fear and astonishment at his hand on your bare thigh. It looked big on your skin, felt cold, and extremely wrong. You also looked at his crouched body.

He quickly regained his posture, placing his laptop on the table and turning it on.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I almost tripped,” he laughed, an awkward chuckle, making him look like a good guy. He looked embarrassed.

You believed him completely, besides being too confused to process how he could have lost his balance... but you had talked to Jeongin so many times, little conversations at the end of tutoring sessions and while walking out of the library and study hall, and in them you remembered that he mentioned that he was a clumsy person, somewhat uncoordinated at sports.

Instead, it was you who blushed and felt more embarrassed. Driving him even crazier. But you let it slide.

You were about to resume your explanation when you noticed that Jeongin quickly and violently moved his backpack, dragged his chair even closer to you, so close that his body bumped into yours, practically surrounding you with his, and in a more carefree tone, he said,

“Where were we?”

His closeness made you uncomfortable and nervous. If you turned your head, you could find his face inches away from yours, almost criminally close.

You noticed his intentions. He wanted to get closer to you; he wanted your attention. You knew it as soon as he rested his hand on the table, subtly caressing yours, and he played with his pen, trying to make you lose yourself in the sight of his attractive, long fingers...

You found him ridiculous. You knew he was just another hormonal kid.

“Aren’t you cold?” he hurried to say, inches from your face. You didn’t want to turn to look at him. “The library is a bit cold, don’t you think? Do you want me to borrow you my jacket?”

You were about to ask him to move away from you. You felt cornered, and your body was stiff. Meanwhile, Jeongin was enjoying it too much... he was almost getting turned on.

“Jeon...”

“Y/n, can I ask you something...?” he interrupted you again, his cool breath hitting your face.

This time, you turned to look at him, slightly embarrassed and annoyed by his cynicism, incredulous that the “respectful boy” you knew had disappeared for a moment. He wasn’t respecting your space, let alone the fact that you were in a serious relationship with Chan.

But... a naive part of you underestimated yourself... You didn’t want to look foolish by telling him that you were misinterpreting his actions and appear arrogant by reminding him of the typical, ‘I have a boyfriend.’

You looked at Jeongin, he looked at your lips and your eyes, having him inches away from you felt so, so wrong. You had Chan.

Chan... arrived just in time, not-so-appropriate in terms of the situation, but at the moment when you were in trouble, the image filled his whole body with anger. He walked across campus to the place where you said you were. His entrance was silent, at first he just wanted to spy, hang around and see if you were there, to sweetly approach you, give you a kiss, and kindly remind you that the tutoring sessions had gone on long enough, that you needed to rest and focus on your own studies and current projects, not focus so much on those of others. He would offer to buy you dinner and go to your apartment together.

He couldn’t be calm leaving you alone with Jeongin; he had to admit it, it was obvious to Chan what Jeongin wanted from you.

But when he saw that scene, oh gosh, everything sweet in his mind shattered and only reaffirmed his thoughts about him.

What was Yang Joengin doing dangerously close to you? The angle looked so bad, everything was so wrong. Chan didn’t want to make assumptions, but anger got the better of him, and he approached you, contrary to his initial plan, with angry steps, stealthily, his attractive face looking obviously unhappy.

“What’s going on here, huh? Is this how you study now?” He appeared suddenly, narrowing his eyes, angrily taking the chair in front of you and sitting down abruptly, his legs spread and his arms crossed.

“Chan...” you whispered, genuinely surprised, turning to look at him.

You knew he was upset. Very upset. He was licking his teeth inside his mouth, breathing deeply, and his gaze was anything but sweet toward you. In fact, his eyes had become sharper and more intimidating.

He wanted an explanation. Now. One that made sense and didn’t increase his intense desire to punch the guy you were teaching.

Jeongin gently pulled away from you, unconcerned, staring at Chan with an arrogant smile, satisfied that your boyfriend had found you like this, not giving a damn how clearly angry he looked. Chan wanted to hit his arrogant face right there, but he stopped and looked at you...

Your eyes sparkled innocently when you saw him. You didn’t know what to say to him, other than that you were obviously just trying to do your job with Jeongin... but he got so close to you. You were embarrassed, knowing how bad it must have looked from Chan’s perspective. You were disappointed. But, oh, Chan—he could never doubt you, or get so angry like that, not with you. He knew you, he knew you would never betray him.

So the whole damn problem came back to Jeongin himself.

Your boyfriend tried to relax. To do his best to act decently, to speak to you sweetly, and not to smash Jeongin's face in, so he just clenched his fist.

“You still here? It’s 7, I thought the tutoring sessions were over...” Chan addressed you exclusively, speaking slowly and sweetly.

“Yes... It’s just that Jeongin needed a little extra time...” you murmured shyly, sad that you had been making your boyfriend angry.

“Extra time?” Chan replied incredulously, chuckling softly. “How long can it take him to learn...” He abruptly took one of your notebooks to read your notes. “Write a 10-page essay on... Charles Dickens. Can’t you read, Jeongin?” he teased him, looking at him with feigned pity and dragging the notebook back to its place. “You have my girl working for you like an actual professor.”

The atmosphere became tense. Jeongin was unconcerned, slightly annoyed, but he didn’t take it too seriously. He remained relaxed, as if nothing had happened, which annoyed Chan even more.

“C’mon, Chan, it’s not just about Dickens...” you tried to say, feeling that your boyfriend was being a little harsh with the younger boy.

Chan couldn’t stand his arrogant face any longer.

“Yeah, Dickens, dickheads,” Chan looked intentionally at the boy, “it’s time to go, baby. You’ve given him enough tutoring for today. Past his regular 2 hours, actually.”

Your boyfriend was about to stand up, waiting for you to follow him, when the carefree and cheeky Jeongin mentioned:

“Didn’t know you set her a curfew,” he challenged him.

Chan stood up and glared at Jeongin. You felt you had to do something, since Chan, being the only one standing, imposed something in a way. And, before your boyfriend could respond with something else reluctantly, you turned to Jeongin and said kindly:

“That’s true... it’s already quite late, let’s not drag out the tutoring sessions or make them tedious. Let’s call it a day.”

Chan smiled softly, happy that you had listened to him. Jeongin, however, wasn’t. He just snorted and thought, Whatever, and began to gather his things without a care. You did the same, starting to gather your things.

Jeongin would have argued more, saying that if that was how he always treated you... but this time, he left it at that.

You and Jeongin stood up from your chairs, your bottoms were a little sore, it was genuinely time to take a break. Chan was about to take your hand and pull you away from him, but Jeongin noticed his intention and quickly stepped forward, taking your forearm and getting your attention.

Chan clenched his jaw at this act, which was exactly the reaction Jeongin was looking for. You were surprised again.

“Thank you very much, Y/n. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said, in a slightly kinder tone than usual, sounding almost fake. “I didn’t mean to make the session so long, but it helped me a lot, thank you.”

You smiled at him. Uncomfortable, wishing he would let go of you since your boyfriend was there and you didn’t like physical contact very much, unless it was someone you had already allowed it with, like Chan.

Jeongin let go of you. “See you later.”

Jeongin walked away carefree, without a hint of remorse, nor feeling remotely intimidated by Bang Chan, who glared intensely at him as he watched him leave.

“Channie...” you called his name sweetly, to get his attention, you could still tell he was upset.

He turned to look at you and you noticed how he let out a cold:

“I’ll carry your bag, honey.”

Chan took your backpack to put it on his shoulder, trying to act like everything was fine, but you wanted to talk about it.

“Chan. I’m sorry. Don’t be so hard on him...”

Your boyfriend looked at you, his eyes widening, shocked and scandalized for a moment, scaring you slightly.

“He’s insufferable,” he muttered angrily, looking away in the direction of Jeongin.

Your boyfriend quickened his pace, waiting for you to follow, not bothering to hold your hand as he was still quite upset.

“I think he’s just a kid trying to annoy you... and he’s succeeding.”

You caught his attention with your comment, making him turn around abruptly. Chan chuckled and then looked around in disbelief. There was no one there, except for a poor student far away from you, working as an assistant behind a counter, taking care of the place and registering the lending of books and maybe some other people in the other side of the place. Still, Chan tried to calm down, sighed, and was so annoyed, but he refused to make a scene in the middle of the library. But he couldn’t help it; he had to let it out. Even though it hurt him to be harsh with you, he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to be honest with you, speaking to you seriously.

“Are you kidding? Are you defending him now? Didn’t you feel the way he was blatantly hitting on you? Or are you just choosing to ignore it? Do you have any idea what...?” Chan quickly approached you, feeling a rush of fresh air that surprised you a little. “Do you have any idea what I had to see?” he emphasized. “See how close he got to you—I could’ve misinterpreted it. Gosh, Y/n. If he wants to bother me, then he should bother me and not you, but the jerk knows exactly what fucking pisses me off.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t like seeing him like this. You had never seen him this upset before.

“Well... I said I’m... sorry.”

Chan sighed, acknowledging that he had lost his temper for a moment, and almost spoke to you through gritted teeth. He tried to calm down, but for the moment, he didn’t know exactly what to say.

“It’s not your fault. Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to your apartment.”

He watched you. You looked confused, your eyes shining—you were somewhere between scared and uncertain. Neither of you wanted that, much less for the reason to be simply jealousy or a younger guy getting in the way of your relationship. But as much as Chan wanted to let it go, he couldn’t, he couldn’t take it lightly, especially when it came to you. He adored you. And besides, it was time for you to discover his true side, one that wasn’t so sweet, one he tried not to show, his jealous and possessive nature. That was how he was. You were his, and nothing could change his mind.

You felt that he wanted to say something, but he held back. The truth was that he couldn’t find the right words to express himself and thought that maybe on the way, he could think better, more clearly, with you by his side.

You followed him, both of you walking in silence through the large library, a silence and a certain distance that was killing you both. So you got his attention by gently taking his arm.

“Wait, Chan,” he turned to look at you intently. “I… I don’t want you to be upset over something ridiculous. You know exactly how I feel about… Jeongin” you murmured, speaking uncertainly because you didn’t even know if it was right to say his name out loud right now, “and you know exactly how I feel and think about you… but you’re right, maybe he’s going a little too far with me, and it would be best to stop seeing him.”

Chan sighed, his gaze softened, and he looked at you tenderly, just the way you loved him to look at you. His heart beat fast; he couldn’t believe you were justifying yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, and that you had come to the conclusion that you would stop teaching him because it bothered him, and not specifically you. At least not as much.

“My dear…” Chan bit his lip innocently, unable to resist, and took your face delicately in his hands. “I’ve told you I can’t be angry with you. You’re not the problem. I’m sorry I got angry, it’s just that…” He took a breath. “I can’t stand how that brat thinks he’s so great that he can flirt with you. You’re my girlfriend, mine alone.”

“Exactly. I’m your girlfriend. I wouldn’t leave you for… him. I understand that.”

“I know you do, baby. But… he doesn’t.”

“That’s why I’m saying it’s better to stop seeing him. I don’t want to make you angry.”

Chan sighed, “Honey, you don’t make me angry. It’s…”

You were both interrupted, or at least that's how it felt when a student casually walked right past you. You both felt slightly embarrassed. Chan pulled away from you and took your wrist to lead you to the back of the bookshelves beside you so you could talk more privately.

“I already told you that it’s him and… I don’t want to forbid you from seeing who you should or not see…”

You bit your lip indecisively as you looked into his eyes. You were both in a dilemma. Chan wanted to tell you that the decision was yours to make, but he also didn’t want to sit idly by until something bigger happened, and he had to intervene when he could have prevented the problem.

“I’ll cancel the tutoring sessions little by little so it doesn’t look like I did it just because you ordered me to.”

A cynical side of Chan would have liked you to do it right away, just because he asked. He was dying to get Yang Jeongin out of your life, but he knew and had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Yeah... that’s gonna be a little hard,” Chan looked away from you for a second and bit his lip thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?” you looked at him, confused.

Chan was standing in front of you, almost pinning you against a shelf.

“He won’t go away that easily. I don’t think I can be the one to push him away. You have to be the one to kill his hopes.”

“I’ll do it,” you replied quickly, getting his attention. “I’m not interested in him at all. I want you, Chan.”

He smiled sweetly at you, and you felt your cheeks flush, as you may have sounded a little corny and overly devoted to your boyfriend, but that was how you felt; it was your genuine response. You both felt that the tension and the situation had finally eased a little.

“You’re the sweetest girl ever,” Chan said tenderly. “I haven’t kissed you once since I came for you.”

You pouted slightly and played with the collar of his shirt, inviting him to come closer to you as you gently leaned your body against the large shelf.

“I know... I just didn’t want to mention it.”

He chuckled and leaned toward you to place the sweetest of kisses on your lips. Sweet, soft, meticulous... the only way Chan knows how to do it to you—letting you enjoy the sensation of his lips long enough, savoring the rhythm and motion of your mouths, then taking you by the waist and deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into you skillfully and stealthily.

You remained like that, playing with each other’s mouths and lips, defying your lack of air so as not to separate, holding each other tightly and both closing your eyes, letting yourselves go.

It was tender, lasting as long as it did, taking breaths between giggles and brushing your nose and lips together.

Whispering little things like, “I’m sorry I got upset, I didn’t mean to talk to you like that.” “I can’t believe you got upset over Jeongin.” “Exactly, he’s a stupid kid who thinks he doesn’t know you’re mine...” Hot and intense whispers from Chan, his warm breath on yours, kneading your skin, “Fuck, yes, you’re so mine, baby girl.”

He took you by surprise, more abruptly, and kissed you with a firm but precise desperation. Chan knew he was losing control more and more, but he still knew what he was doing. He was consistent and kissed you so intimately and dirty, enough to provoke you and leave you breathless, making it clear how much you needed him sexually. Both of you were touching each other, teasing each other, one with more control than the other.

Chan smiled, massaged your butt and thighs while his swollen lips went down your neck, almost incredulous that your pretty cleavage had been Jeongin’s view for hours. He was gently aroused and still felt uncontrollable anger toward your young apprentice, so he didn’t hesitate to nibble, suck, and torture your docile skin, marking what was his, leaving neat hickeys on your neck and breasts.

You moaned at the sensation. Your pussy throbbed hard, your body generating heat. Suddenly, you realized that you were in a public place, on school property.

“Cha-chan,” you whimpered breathlessly, stroking his hair.

He raised his gaze, his tongue, lips, and teeth still attached to you. He made his last mark and regained his composure, leaving you breathless after an intense make-out session. But he, unlike you, had controlled his desire.

“Wear something more provocative next time for that little fucker Yang and make him understand that you’re only mine,” he ordered you firmly, pointing with his gaze at your recent marks, then smiled smugly. “Let’s get out of here, hun.”

You were in your apartment. Alone. Even when you thought things had been sorted out with Chan... you saw him acting a little distant. You spent quite a while wondering if something was still going on... if something was bothering him, since you could still see that he was slightly pensive.

You even offered him to spend the night, because you wanted him close, but he excused himself, saying he had to take care of some things at home.

But he wanted to think about some things, as well as figure out how to get rid of Jeongin, because he still wasn’t satisfied with closing the issue.

So there you were, in your comfortable clothes, about to rest—you wouldn’t turn on your laptop, you wouldn’t take anything out of your backpack. It was late and you were about to relax. It had been raining for a while and you were resigned to spending a quiet night, distracting yourself with whatever you could until you got sleepy, but all you could think about was how much you wanted Chan to be with you right now, on a night like this.

But just as you were about to walk into your living room, cookies in hand, remembering that you would say good night to your boyfriend, a knock on your door startled you completely. At first you were shocked, as the atmosphere made you alert, being alone and it was raining outside, to a certain extent making you feel defenseless.

But then there was another knock. Unnecessary and somewhat impatient. But enough to cheer you up and let you know exactly who it was. He knew the passcode to your apartment, yet he waited.

You dropped everything and almost ran to your door. You were so happy, you could only think about who was behind it, without even thinking about the small details.

Finally, you opened the door, expecting to see Chan, and you did, but not exactly the way you had imagined.

“Christopher!” you exclaimed, almost breathless, opening your eyes in surprise.

Chan smiled at you attractively, narrowing his eyes, adorning his handsome face every time he smiled at you, and looked at you sweetly. You were so surprised. Chan was standing in front of you, soaked, and you had so many questions that suddenly none of them could come out of your mouth.

You looked at him, perhaps more than necessary, his dark wet hair, his pale face shining with water, his tight clothes, especially that useless, thin black T-shirt he was wearing, clinging to his body, showing off his abs. Was it raining that hard?

“Let’s go outside,” he suggested, almost in a seductive tone, still smiling, noticing how intensely you were looking at him.

You blinked suddenly, seeing him like that left you stunned, but you snapped out of your trance and looked at him, confused. He looked so cute like that, you couldn’t deny it... But common sense was scratching all kinds of questions in your mind.

“Wait, what? You’re crazy, and soaked, come inside and dry off... Did you walk all the way he-”

“Come on, let’s play in the rain.”

He interrupted you. It looked just like one of those occasions when he wouldn’t give you a single answer, and you had no choice but to go along with him. He sounded serious, but playful. You played along, but only in the sweet way he spoke, not in actually wanting to go out and get wet. Nothing he was doing made any sense, nor why he was standing there at your door, at night, soaking wet. Sometimes you just want to enjoy yourself... let yourself go, not question anything, and enjoy the beautiful sight of your very attractive boyfriend, drenched by the rain, standing in your doorway, with his beautiful bright eyes, looking like something out of a movie; but your sense of responsibility told you:

“You’re crazy, it’s pouring rain outside,” you scoffed. “How-how did you even get here to get so wet? You’re gonna catch a cold like that, for God’s sake, Chan, come inside so you can dry off. I’ll bring you a towel.”

Your boyfriend didn’t contradict you; he remained silent and looked at you with a tender, obedient gaze, like a sweet puppy being scolded. He convinced you, genuinely did, so for some reason you waited for him to enter your apartment, you moved away from the door a little and saw his intentions to do so; but as soon as you let your guard down, Chan took your body unexpectedly, making you sigh at the cold sensation of your body getting wet, and he carried you with ease, placing your abdomen on his strong shoulder.

“Oh. My. God. Chan! What are you doing? Put me down now!”

You weren’t upset, you didn’t sound that way at all. He chuckled, closed your door, and walked down the hallway with your body on him, toward the elevator.

“Chan, put me down! I don’t want to go out. You’re getting me wet!” you gently patted him on the back.

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he teased at your last comment, pressing the elevator button with his free hand.

You felt your cheeks burn. It was so silly and sweet that for a second, you felt like a little schoolgirl with the innocence of her first love, teasing her boyfriend. You could hear your flushed giggles, his ears turning tenderly red.

“You’re getting soaked everywhere!” you continued, scolding him playfully.

You both entered the elevator, and that’s when he finally put you down gently. Chan quickly turned his back to the buttons, blocking you from even using them with his body.

“When was the last time you were in the rain?” he asked you, playing sweetly.

“A few months ago, when I had to go back to my apartment and was coming from college,” you replied reluctantly, joking.

He rolled his eyes and rephrased the question, “When was the last time you had fun in the rain?”

You sighed, pretending to be annoyed.

“If I get sick, it’ll be your fault.”

“You know I’ll take care of you, sweetie,” he said tenderly, unable to resist the distance between you and walking toward you to caress your cheeks tenderly.

“You’re going to get sick too, idiot.”

He looked at you, surprised and feigning offense. The next thing you knew, his hand was taking yours and dragging you out of the building. Getting you both completely wet.

You smiled in surprise, the water was cold and hitting your body violently.

“Fuck, Chris! My slippers got wet!”

“Hey, watch your language...” your boyfriend warned you gently.

He moved dangerously close to you, putting his big hands on your waist, holding you tightly, and pressing you against his body. You were so busy thinking about how wet you were getting, how it was slightly ridiculous but romantic, and you didn’t know whether to be upset or happy; however, Chan’s pull on your body made you understand everything. You slowly raised your gaze and met his eyes. It was a beautiful, dark, starry night, and he looked even more handsome. You smiled at him, feeling warmth in your body despite the cold autumn rain that drenched your bodies.

And the moment lasted like that, you captured it, and it became magical. You and Chan, with no worries other than enjoying the rain... but the passing of a car on the street brought you back to your senses and broke the magical moment, at least for you, since Chan didn’t let go of you and was still lost in the image of your sweet wet face, your flattened hair, your damp eyelashes, everything about you that took his breath away and made his heart beat fast. He knew exactly how he felt, and right now he wasn’t afraid to express it out loud.

You started to blush, feeling hot and nervous. Chan was watching you too intently, too intensely.

“Come on, Chan. Let’s go inside. This isn’t a K-drama. People are going to think we’re crazy. I can’t even see you through the rain.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you tighter, making it harder for you to escape his grip.

“Why do you care what people think?” he murmured, barely audible.

“What?”

“Y/n, I don’t want to fight anymore, or for you to think that I feel threatened by some little idiot who has a crush on you. But I don’t blame him, look at you, you’re beautiful. I’m so lucky. And c’mon, even in your pajamas and soaking wet, you’re beautiful.”

Chan took a step back, looking you up and down, licking his lips at the small detail of your wet breasts, your thin lace bralette visible through your loose white V-neck shirt. “Mmm, I love your top, it looks even cuter wet and clinging to your body.”

You blushed even more. His words sounded so genuine, his gaze was still intense, and his voice sounded so good alongside the sound of the drops hitting the floor. You wanted to kiss him so badly, with that poor lighting, his whole demeanor made him look wonderful.

“Okay... I thought we had already cleared that up. Did you come here just for...?” you hissed, almost in a slow sigh, letting yourself be carried away by the soft tension that was building.

“I came to see you. I wanted to go for a walk and the rain caught me and... I came to you and thought I wanted to see you exactly like this...”

“Like what...”

Chan giggled, looking at your eyes and lips, lost in thought, not even knowing what he was talking about.

“I love you.”

He confessed, in the air, loud enough to leave you speechless. You thought he wasn’t serious, but you heard him loud and clear. He was sincere... it felt so right, something you didn’t bother to repeat because you felt the same way.

Chan caught your slight expression of confusion and then your entire face, softening. What could you know about love? But you were sure it was the most accurate explanation for your feelings every time you were with him or thought about him.

“I love you, too.”

You both smiled, lost in each other, until he leaned toward you, cupping your cheek, teasing you with his closeness and brushing gently your nose with his and kissing you. His lips were wet, rain falling on both your faces, but it felt so magical. His hands gently explored your body, and his mouth guided you to the sweetest of pleasures with a meaning as genuine and innocent as the love you had just confessed for each other.

And then there you were, playing like two idiots in love in the rain.

The next morning was even sweeter. You both returned to your apartment soaked and with an uncontrollable hunger for each other, kissing as if you were unable to separate from one another, then ending up naked, trying to dry yourselves off, sweetly teasing each other without crossing the thin line of initiating anything sexual, and, between giggles, you forced him to take a shower, you did the same, and you simply ended up falling asleep cuddled up together.

It was so sweet, even when you woke up on your own, accustomed to your strict schedule without needing your alarm, slowly opening your eyes, and the first sensation in your body upon becoming conscious was that of your boyfriend’s warm body, heavy, asleep, and tenderly carefree.

You looked at Chan, both of you were so snuggled up that your first reaction was to smile tenderly, from the position you were in, your leg over his body and him hugging you, his natural curls gently tickling your skin and his face caressing your chest, barely covered by your little tank top.

He looked so cuddly, precious, and soft, sleeping peacefully, his big arms and muscular build exposed since he wasn’t wearing a shirt, tightly attached to yours. You stayed like that, enjoying the sight of his puffy, pink lips, looking so comfortable on your body, you weren’t even sure how you ended up sleeping in that position.

However, something inside you felt the need to know exactly what time it was. The day was still cloudy, so you couldn’t even use the sun’s rays as a guide. Besides, you wanted your cell phone right away to take pictures of Chan, to tease him after how he acted tough, when the truth was that he was a complete softie with you, sleeping with his head on your chest, hugging you as if he didn’t want to let you go. And he didn’t want to let you go; as soon as you moved slightly, stretching your arm to reach for your cell phone on the nightstand, Chan felt you and slowly woke up.

Chan took a deep breath, stretched his muscles a little without letting go of you completely, and slowly opened his eyes, raising his gaze to meet yours, looking at your tender face, also just awake. And both of you locked eyes, in addition to how warm and close your bodies were, you both looked at each other like two lovers in love, having just confessed something so intimate to each other.

Chan groaned, still sleepy, trying to adjust to the dim light that now illuminated your room, and complained softly, whining, that you were moving to reach for your cell phone. You had to check the time; even at the first moment of the day, you had to be so responsible, and that made your boyfriend whimper softly. He wanted to be there, with you, hugging a little longer, not worrying about anything, and just enjoying each other’s scent and warmth.

“Good morning, princess. What are you doing?”

His voice was thick, raspy, vibrant, almost making you shiver. You adored him so much. And his face was perfect, with full, puffy lips and small eyes that lit up when he saw you. But you had to return to reality and face your day. You also wanted to spend the whole morning with him, in your apartment, like the quiet weekend mornings that you both loved so much.

“Good morning, Channie... I have to check the time... it’s...”

You replied, finally seeing that the clock read 8:05 a.m. You had to get ready for your first class.

“Come on, I know you don’t have your first class until 9:20 on Fridays.”

You sighed. Chan adjusted his body, snuggling closer to you, caressing you, and making the sheets rustle.

“It’s 8 o’clock, Chan, I have to get ready.”

Chan whimpered and growled, intentionally hugging you tighter and hiding his face in your chest again.

“Please don’t do this, stay,” he begged, his voice still hoarse. “It’s okay if you skip a class or two... come on, I’ll make you breakfast if you want.”

You chuckled. He looked particularly cute and sounded sweetly needy. You were about to protest, but a notification distracted you.

Everything was perfect, but you had just received a message from Jeongin:

Yang Jeongin can we meet today?

So it happened just as Chan told you. Jeongin texted you to ask if you could meet up, canceled his tutoring sessions, saying that you had already helped him enough that week and that he just wanted to talk to you. Chan didn’t exactly force you to wear a top with a neckline low enough to show your marks, but you agreed to his idea and covered them very poorly with a very light concealer, intending to show that your boyfriend’s hickeys were there.

Chan coordinated everything from afar. Jeongin invited you to a café, while your boyfriend waited far enough away to not be seen, but to be with you as soon as you told him the conversation was over.

Jeongin’s original plan was to be a gentleman. He regretted acting childish and so hasty with you yesterday. He wanted to apologize and sweet-talk you with his voice and words. He didn’t care about Chan at all. It was you who was of complete interest to him. Dealing with your boyfriend came later. Jeongin first wanted to win you over and thus remove Chan from his path.

So, he saw you enter the café, greeted you with a big smile, and pointed out which table he was at. You looked beautiful, but as soon as you both approached each other, he pulled out your chair and waited for you to sit down. Jeongin noticed everything. The aggressive hickeys on your skin, lightly, almost barely covered with makeup, as if you hadn’t even bothered to do it properly.

“Y/n. Hello! What would you like to drink?”

Jeongin clenched his jaw, pretending that everything was fine. His patience quickly ran out.

“Hot chocolate is fine.”

“I’ll be right back. Would you like some cookies with that?”

You nodded. Jeongin hurried to the counter without even waiting for a waiter to approach. He needed to calm down a little… to remember that he had to be a gentleman to win you over, to get Chan out of his way.

As he waited for the drink, he wondered what Chan was really like and how someone like him could get you. Were you perhaps too gullible?

Jeongin approached you with your drink and cookies. He had already ordered.

“So…” he said, slightly nervous, sitting down across from you.

He was quite cute and attractive, but you could never see him that way, not with the same eyes you saw Chan. However, Jeongin tried to put aside how much those hickeys bothered and distracted him and tried to strike up a conversation. You talked relaxed, calmly, and sweetly for 10 minutes, the words flowing naturally between you. He apologized for yesterday and subtly tried to get information about Chan out of you.

By that point, you had finished your drinks and all the cookies. You were a little sad because sometimes you thought you could find a friend in Jeongin, since you had never had a male friend with whom everything was so natural… but it was obvious that you knew his intentions and how he subtly kept flirting with you.

“Ah, I wanted to ask you something… well, rather invite you… or just know if you’re going, although,” he sighed, “at this point you must already know from Chan,” he said, slightly indignant.

You listened attentively, almost without blinking, but mentioning Chan took you by surprise, and you expressed confusion, yet Jeongin continued.

“Tomorrow? The annual fall event? The midnight society?” Jeongin mentioned it casually, just to make sure you were following him, to see on your face that you understood what he was talking about.

But your face reflected the exact opposite. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Oh, you don’t know?” You shook your head gently, and Jeongin chuckled, incredulous and happy, thinking that maybe you and Chan didn’t share everything about each other. He leaned on the table, unable to control his happiness that he was the one who was actually going to invite you. “You know that this month is the university’s founding anniversary, right?” He began to speak more cautiously. “Every year, all the senior fraternities organize this kind of secret party with all the fraternities and sororities of the uni. Guests must be invited exclusively by a member of the fraternities and they use secret codes and shit like that. There’s always a theme; this year it’s like The Phantom of the Opera or something. You really don’t know? Chan is literally in charge of the event.”

You didn’t know how to respond… suddenly, you were inundated with information about secret societies at the university… You wondered why Chan never told you about it. Was it really that secret? What could you know if you never even tried to apply to the school’s old system?

“Okay. I’ll invite you. Color palette: black, red, white, silver. Dress as you please. Wear a minimalist mask. The Dongwook clubhouse, just before midnight. Tell him the fox sent you and…”

“The fox?” You giggled, almost so caught up in the conversation that you suddenly lost your seriousness.

“I know! Stupid, right? But that’s how it has to be, and the code is... noctis vox... remember it well because I can’t even tell you by text.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m kidding! I’ll text you all the details. Hope to see you there.”

You spent the next few long minutes talking a little about the background of fraternity life... it was an unfamiliar topic, since Chan hardly ever talked about it. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pique your curiosity. It did, and it made you feel a little overwhelmed with intrigue as to why Chan hadn’t invited you, or even mentioned it.

Chan noticed that you were acting particularly strange after you met with Jeongin. He playfully asked you if he had been upset when he saw your hickeys, and you responded distantly.

He drove you to your apartment, where you had previously agreed that Chan would spend the night... but you were still deep in thought.

He approached you again, setting aside the dinner he was about to cook for you, and asked you gently:

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong? You really seemed different after the coffee thing. Did that fucker do something to you? Y/n, love, sweetheart, tell me, did that fucker dared t...”

You looked him in the eyes. He knew exactly that something was wrong. Chan looked worried.

“No, Channie, it’s nothing like that,” you interrupted him.

“Then what? You know you can tell me anything.”

And he was right. It seemed ridiculous to you to be upset about something so absurd, to hide how you felt from him right after you had openly confessed how much you loved each other and shown yourselves to be extremely vulnerable. But you couldn’t stop thinking... why was he acting like nothing had happened? What was his plan? Not to attend that important party? Or to sneak out at midnight without saying a word to you? Why hadn’t he told you... Besides, you were terrified by the way Jeongin told you about it—a club in the middle of the forest, after midnight, wearing masks and without phones, forbidding anyone from talking about that night once it was over at dawn... Like a fucking remake of Eyes Wide Shut, you were scared of rich kids doing stupid things, and you also had a right to feel jealous, knowing that other girls were going to be there.

“It’s just that... why...” You almost dared to say it, but sighed resignedly, “Forget it.”

He took your arm. “No, Y/n, honey. Tell me.”

You grimaced uncomfortably and nervously adjusted your glasses.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about tomorrow’s party? You weren’t planning on going?”

Chan examined your face and body language and let out a confused, “What?”

“The annual fall party... or something like that—at midnight?”

“Oh. How do you know that?” He quickly answered himself. “Oh, right, he told you.”

“And?”

“And what, baby?”

His calmness made you a little desperate.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s ridiculous. I’m not even going! I’d rather be with you.”

You narrowed your eyes. It was sweet... but his answer disappointed you in a way. You weren’t expecting that.

“You’re not going...? Don’t you have to go because you’re the leader of the frat?”

“I left Hyunjin in charge. He’ll go for me.”

You nodded softly, didn’t answer, and went to sit on the sofa. Your gaze was still lost. You had more questions now that you knew more. Even if he wasn’t going... You would have liked him to mention it to you; maybe you would have wanted to go. Maybe not.

Chan knelt down in front of you, knowing that the problem wasn’t solved.

“Now what, princess? Tell me everything,” he said, placing his warm, large hands on your knee.

You looked at him. “I don’t know... why don’t you want to go?”

“Because,” he sighed, “you know that kind of event isn’t my thing. I want to be taken seriously and break away from that frat boy, party image. I want to graduate with you, find a job, support you in your master’s degree, be with you... You know I’m only in the fraternity because of the Bang tradition or whatever.”

You smiled at him. You found what he said truly sweet. It was true, there was no reason to force him to do something you knew he didn’t like... but you had another reason that you were afraid to say out loud just this once.

“It’s okay, Channie. I understand.”

He sat down next to you. “Why the sudden interest?” Your silence spoke for itself. “Oh, you wanted to go?”

You shrugged. Downplaying it, but it was the truth. Maybe Chan wanted to leave that life behind and enjoy his senior year more quietly, but for you, it was completely the opposite... You felt like you were just opening up a little more, so a party with that kind of theme piqued your interest. At the end of the day, you were just a young, inexperienced girl.

“I don’t know. I won’t know if you don’t even tell me,” you joked.

He understood.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Do you want to go?”

You looked at your boyfriend, looking exquisitely handsome in a tailor-made all-black suit. On Saturday afternoon, you went out on the town and he spoiled you with lots of things—a black designer dress, jewelry, and shoes. You thought it was too much, but Chan refused to accept your modesty.

“You look so good, honey. It's like Eyes Wide Shut and Fifty Shades of Grey, you frat kids are insane, actually” you commented, adjusting your boyfriend’s cloak and pinning his fraternity pin to his suit.

“I think the cloak is too much.”

Chan laughed, unable to contain his joy at seeing you happy. It was obvious that you wanted to attend this kind of party, one you never thought you’d go to. Another college party that was unlike the rest, in a private and exclusive club owned by Hyunjin’s family, everyone dressed elegantly, with no cell phones allowed inside.

“I think I want to make love to you with that cape on,” you said, teasing him just before leaving.

“And with the mask. Oh, baby, you’re kinda kinky,” he continued the joke, quickly putting on the mask and taking it off while holding it on its stick.

Chan blushed and, amid sweet giggles, you both finally headed to the party. And you understood everything, just as you finally arrived, the place was beautifully decorated, with lovely artistic details. That’s why Chan told you he had left Hyunjin in charge, because in the end he took care of almost everything.

You were nervous. It was true. It was the kind of place where the perfect crime could happen and no one would say anything, all the rich kids there would get away with it, or at least the ones who were luckier than others, since the ordinary people who managed to get into fraternities and sororities without as much money as the rest, well, they had it a little complicated. But it was good to be holding Chan’s hand. Always, and it eased your anxiety about going through the crowd.

And the show began. Right at midnight, or so you thought. The lights went out, the music stopped, and Chan had to be part of the center of the dance floor, along with other boys and girls wearing their cloaks, which only they wore, imitating a kind of ritual that made your hair stand on end. It was terrifying for a moment.

But everything returned to normal within a few minutes. The party began like any other. Chan returned to your side and took you to chat a little with his group of friends. Felix invited you to have a drink and, for some reason, you turned to look at your boyfriend with sparkling eyes, getting his absolute approval.

So you headed to the bar with Felix, shouting over the loud music to ask him what exactly he recommended. Felix ordered for both of you, and as you waited quietly for your drinks, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. You turned around excitedly, thinking it was Chan, but your smile faded a little when you saw Jeongin.

“Y/n, hey, you came. I assumed you would when I saw Chan at the start of the ceremony. I was looking for you.”

You smiled nervously at him. Felix also turned around, including himself, and at the same time, not including himself at all in the conversation that Joengin clearly wanted to strike up.

“Yes... in the end... I was quite curious about your secret societies.”

“Ah, nothing like that, it’s just an excuse and a bunch of college students getting drunk and wearing suits and dresses.”

You giggled, and just then, Felix brushed your arm, friendly to pass you your first drink.

“Are you going to drink tonight?”

You shrugged, nodding and taking a sip of your drink, feeling slightly uncomfortable in his presence. You had already decided to distance yourself from him little by little. So far, Jeongin hadn’t confessed anything to you, so it seemed embarrassing to suddenly tell him you weren’t interested in him, plus it seemed silly to say something like that when it was obvious. You’re not interested. You’re with Chan.

“It’s a party,” you replied nonchalantly.

He looked at you intently for a few long seconds. He looked you up and down boldly while subtly biting his lip.

“Well, yeah. I’ll order some drinks too.”

Jeongin turned away, leaving you a little confused, and you saw him walk over to a girl behind him. The girl was chatting amiably with another group of girls, and as soon as Jeongin approached her, she happily stumbled over to his side, standing in front of you and Felix. She had a huge smile on her face, and you could read “What?” on her lips. Jeongin repeated something in her ear, and as she listened, her eyes wandered around, finding you and Felix there. You both noticed how the girl’s big smile slowly faded. She replied to Jeongin with what you heard was the name of a drink, and he leaned over the bar to order them.

You felt strange and out of place. You felt like the girl was looking at you too closely, but you assumed it was because she was obviously a little tipsy. Still, you took another sip of your drink, not knowing how to say you were leaving... and trying to hide a sigh of relief at the thought that Jeongin had come with a girl. Which meant that at least now he could leave you alone for a while, or so you thought. Besides, you found her extremely pretty, good for him, you thought. The girl was petite, even in heels, slim, with pale skin, straight red hair, big hazel eyes, straight eyebrows, pretty lips, and freckles. You couldn’t have thought of anyone better for Jeongin—if you even thought about it.

You glanced at Felix, but your boyfriend’s blond friend looked too serious for some reason. Even so, all of this happened in a matter of seconds, but you were still sober and could notice all those little details. So, the girl looked away from you and saw Felix, smiled warmly at him, and said.

“Oh, hi, Felix.”

“Hey, Kaia,” he greeted her, and you looked at him, mildly surprised that they knew each other, but you found it normal since Felix was popular. “Did you come with Jeongin?”

Still, it seemed strange to you how a little uncomfortable Felix looked; he never looked like that. You thought that maybe it was because of Jeongin and because he wanted to get out of the situation and go back to his friends.

“Mmm, well, kind of...” she said with a smirk on her lips. “I’m one of the girls now,” she added enthusiastically, proudly pointing to the pin of a sorority on her strapless dress. “You came with...” she rambled for a second, not knowing your name.

She knew it. The girl looked at you as if she knew you—and she did—so intensely every time she looked in your direction.

“Y/n? No. She’s a friend, she’s with someone else,” Felix replied quickly, slightly nervous and trying to save the situation from becoming too awkward.

For a second, you wondered if it was right to introduce yourself. But Felix had already done it for you. You felt a little small and shy; it wasn’t like you wanted to seem rude.

“There you go,” Jeongin interjected and turned, gently handing his drink to the person you now knew as Kaia, who mumbled a thanks. “You guys met already?” he added.

Kaia took the lead, taking a sip of her drink first. “No. Not really. I’m Kaia, I’m a performing arts major. Nice to meet you,” she replied quickly, coldly, and almost obligingly.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

She smiled at you, but her slightly annoyed face distracted you a little, and without realizing it, you didn’t introduce yourself the same way she did. But she didn’t seem angry with you, but rather with her companion. But you didn’t want to be there anymore, reading people and deciphering expressions. You wanted to be with Chan, and the drink in your hand was starting to bother you.

“Well, I have to go. I’ll be with Chan... um, on that side of his frat house table” you told Jeongin.

Jeongin smiled with a strange satisfaction, and both Kaia and Felix looked uncomfortable that you had made that comment.

“I understand. He’s waiting for you,” Jeongin said, in a mocking tone that was difficult to decipher.

But his smile widened as soon as the real show began, and his target approached you. Chan appeared, next to you and Felix, and was about to complain that he was there for some drinks for Hyunjin since, as he had taken care of everything and Chan had hardly been involved in the event, Chan owed him one and Hyunjin had warned him that he would treat him as he pleased throughout the night... However, he was initially stunned to see Jeongin, not very happy to have him there, but another feeling came over him as soon as he saw Kaia standing next to him.

It was obvious that you didn’t even know who she was. But Chan was annoyed because he knew exactly that Jeongin was the one who knew everything and that he had brought you both together just to annoy him later. He couldn’t believe it; the young man was testing his patience more and more.

“Hey, Chan. Do you want some drinks, or were you looking for your girlfriend? I see you can’t leave her alone for even five minutes. Afraid something might happen?” Jeongin hissed, arrogant and amused.

Chan glared at him, not responding because he was determined to be more mature about the situation, to stay calm and not fall back into something you had already discussed. Besides, he thought there was no reason to get angry. You loved him, he knew that, and that mattered to him.

“I’ll get some drinks from Hyunjin. If you want, you can go to our area now, honey,” Chan said loudly in your ear.

You said goodbye awkwardly to Jeongin and the girl, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice the way Kaia looked at Chan, so deeply, her eyes bright and wide open, almost a frightened look. Chan looked normal, calm; he didn’t see her that way. And before you left with Felix, you heard Chan greet her softly with a simple “Hey,” but then he walked away to the other end of the bar to order.

You left there extremely confused, wondering if they knew each other, but you decided to ignore it, because you knew he was popular, because when you saw Chan, now wearing his suit, finally without that scary cloak, with the buttons of his shirt open, revealing a little of his chest... You thought that maybe the girl had a crush on your boyfriend. It bothered you, but you didn’t blame her. Besides, he was right there, right next to you.

And the party continued. This time, you didn’t drink much, just enough to lift your spirits and dare to dance with Felix, Changbin, and Chaeryeong, his date. You were having a good time, talking with them. Every now and then, Chan would join you and then watch you from afar, enjoying yourself. Later, Changbin and Chaeryeong were the first to leave, and Felix asked you for a moment to go to the bathroom, so you were left alone, and you were about to go back to Chan when you suddenly felt a strong urge to touch up your makeup. At that point, you knew you were walking a fine line between drunkenness and sobriety.

But you felt fine. Different, so you bravely walked on your own, determined to find the bathroom by yourself so you could touch up your lipstick. In a fleeting thought, you imagined touching up your makeup and returning to Chan, sitting on his lap and kissing him. That’s what you wanted to do. Your emotions were playing tricks on you, your thoughts were betraying you, suddenly you missed him terribly, even though you had seen him a few minutes ago and knew he was there, waiting for you. It was the alcohol betraying you a little.

You continued on your way, still lost in the crowd and in hallways with people drinking, kissing, and chatting with their masks on, and suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder again.

“Hello. Where are you going, sweetie?”

It was Jeongin. He seemed to be your shadow.

“Oh, I was just going to touch up my makeup. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure this is the way?” he joked. “I know where you can do that, follow me.”

Jeongin took you to a brighter space, with few people chatting, the music sounding slightly distant. You were impressed, as you didn’t know the place could be that big. Because maybe you weren’t entirely sober and thinking clearly...

And Jeongin didn’t give up, he kept openly flirting with you, asking you how long you’d been dating Chan, taking advantage of the fact that you weren’t sober and throwing out the comment:

“Hmm, the way he looks with you, it might last longer than it did with Kaia.”

You were putting on your lip gloss when that comment took you by surprise.

“What?”

“Oh, you know, Chan and Kaia...” he read your confused reaction. “Don’t you know? Why wouldn’t he tell you?”

It was obvious that Jeongin knew you had no idea; he knew it from the moment you acted so innocently when she was right in front of you. Your silence perpetuated everything. Sobriety and responsibility were returning to you, as you felt you were about to hear something important.

“Kaia is Chan’s ex, they dated for about 7 months when she was in sophomore year. Now she’s in my class, and we take theatrical literature together. You know, the usual.”

Jeongin kept talking, but you weren’t paying attention. Your mind went silent... and all you could think about was that she was his ex-girlfriend. Right before you, she existed, and that tormented you. It was your first time experiencing a relationship. Your first time experiencing and realizing that your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend was a beautiful little redhead with a big smile who studied art. You wished it didn’t bother you so much, but it did.

You didn’t doubt Jeongin’s information; your instinct told you that he was telling you the truth. There must have been a reason for Felix’s discomfort, for Kaia’s bright eyes when she saw Chan. Who broke up with whom? You couldn’t help thinking and thinking...

And, without realizing it, just as you gently raised your gaze, Chan approached you with quick steps. He was looking for you. Suddenly, he lost sight of you, Felix didn’t know where you were, and neither of you had your cell phones. And, to his not-so-pleasant surprise, you were with Jeongin, in a more private area, and Chan could bet that its use was restricted, since Hyunjin strictly marked the places where his property could be used.

“Oh, god. Do you always have to appear out of nowhere?” Jeongin said to Chan, annoyed but amused.

“Cute chatting, huh?” Chan said.

Chan tried to calm down. But every time his instincts pushed him to the limit, you always appeared next to Jeongin. He was annoyed again. Definitely letting go of the maturity he had set out to use. He was so pissed off.

“Yang Jeongin... I’m taking my girlfriend with me, okay?”

Chan replied through gritted teeth, slowly losing his composure.

Jeongin rolled his eyes and shrugged. And watched you leave. Chan grabbed your wrist, almost dragging you away. You could tell he was upset, but you were too, too much so, you felt that he wasn’t the only one who had a right to be angry.

“Chan-Chan,” you protested, half-heartedly, tired of having to watch another scene.

He took you to a bathroom. A single bathroom, very fitting for such an elegant place, and locked the door. You were both upset, but with the slight effect of alcohol still lingering in your system, the way Chan looked made you rethink whether you were really upset at all; his eyes darkened, he licked his lips, and his whole demeanor looked so attractive as he tried to maintain his sanity.

“We need to talk. Talk about something that had already been resolved. Weren’t you going to distance Jeongin from you? When are you going to tell him to stop bothering you? Or is it that you like having his attention, huh? Is that it? Why are you sneaking away like this? You know, we don’t have our cell phones.” Chan started saying one thing, but just by saying something, he exploded, he couldn’t resist it, he spoke more and more harshly, his veins popping out in his neck.

You felt stunned. With nothing to defend yourself with, you just blurted out:

“And you? What about you, Chan, huh?”

“What about me, what? You didn’t answer m...”

“Kaia,” you interrupted him, silencing him.

He sighed, annoyed and tired, not believing he had to deal with this right now.

“Wh-what about her, what are you talking about, sweetheart. You’re so drunk.”

He knew you knew. He could see it in your tender gaze, slightly dulled, but it didn’t seem right to him, since he was convinced that Chan hadn’t been in contact with her since they broke up, but instead you... and another guy who wasn’t him... oh, he was almost dying of jealousy.

“No. I know. When were you going to tell me about her?”

“What was I going to tell you about her? She’s not even part of my life anymore. But you, you’re everything. Did you see me approach Kaia even once tonight?”

You remained silent... thinking that maybe he had a point, but you came up with a quick comeback.

“Why? Didn’t you approach her because you knew I was watching?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t talk about... my exes because they’re not relevant. But you, my God, I let my guard down for a second, and you’re back with Jeongin. I thought we’d already talked about that.”

“Yes. We only talked about me, but never about you! Who else was with you besides her? Anything else I should know?” you raised your voice.

“Baby, watch your tone when you talk to me. Don’t yell,” he warned slowly, moving closer to you. “Don’t bring up things from the past, honey,” he pinned you against the door, piercing you with his gaze and leaving you breathless. “You know very well that you are my present and future. And I don’t want that to be damaged by some silly junior guy, okay, beautiful?”

He was intimidating you. And it was working well; you almost swallowed hard when you saw him, your legs were almost shaking, and there was something about him that suddenly made you so obedient.

“We good, sweetie?” You nodded slowly. “Good,” he said, bringing his hands to your face and holding it delicately. “Because you know I won’t tolerate that boy showing you off as if you were his. You’re mine, understand?”

You nodded again. Breathless, a little turned on by having him so close, plus his voice was rough, demanding. And your boyfriend in a suit wasn’t exactly making you feel good and sane.

“Then, kiss me, beautiful.”

You almost melted right there, forgetting your anger as soon as his lips touched yours, giving you the deepest, most passionate kiss, the way only he knows how to do with you, the way only he knows how to leave you breathless and with your emotions on edge, always needing more and more of him. You dropped your small handbag, stunned, and touched him.

“Anything else to add or say, sweetheart?” he whispered, slightly agitated on your lips.

“It’s just that...” you paused.

He looked at you almost warningly, waiting for an answer. You thought you were being dramatic; you never saw his ex as a problem, and you didn’t even want to know more about her. You just wanted to be with him. And that kiss spoke for itself. You sighed.

“I love you.”

You whispered shyly on his lips.

“I love you too, my dear” he replied tenderly. “I hope you understand why I’m reacting this way.”

You knew. Chan loved that way, and it drove you crazy. He kissed you again, this time pushing you more roughly toward the door and kissing you more passionately. His hands began to roam your body mercilessly, and the situation was heating up; you could both feel it.

You tried to adapt to his rhythm, to his desperate lips with an insatiable energy for you, to his tongue playing with you. You didn’t even have time to process that something sexual was beginning to develop between you, and you just let yourself go, feeling more and more, slowly igniting in a pleasurable agony that overwhelmed your weak body. You could never feel soft and beautifully aroused for Chan; you always had to seem needy when it came to him, no matter how much you wanted to control it, because he kissed and touched you so well...

The arousal also grew in Chan’s body. There was something so damn hot about claiming that you were his, something that filled him with so much pride. First the hickeys, and now he was going to fuck you there just for the sheer pleasure of both of you, and he was going to do it so jealously until you whimpered and remembered who you belonged to. He could already visualize your tired body being held by him, fucking you, and that made his cock even harder.

His lips moved down your neck, subtly teasing the marks that were just beginning to heal a little. His large hands squeezed your waist, your bare thighs, and you sighed as soon as you felt him lift your tight dress up to your stomach, exposing your panties. Chan was working fast, but at the same time with a patience that only built your pleasure.

He pulled away from you and with a mischievous smile, pulled your dress down from your breasts in one swift motion, leaving you vulnerably exposed again, making you moan softly. Your cheeks flushed. Chan appreciated his own work on you, your used lips, shiny, soft marks on your skin, your heavy, agitated breathing with just a few small teasing kisses and caresses, your exquisite, round breasts exposed, you, just for him, with your tender, hopelessly excited gaze. And, from your perspective, the sight was so wonderful that it made your pussy throb with desperation, and it was because of his intense gaze and how fucking attractive and handsome he looked in that suit tight against his body. Your gaze drifted away a little, just to make sure that you were both in exactly the same state of arousal, and you confirmed it as soon as your mouth salivated painfully at the sight of his large erection in his pants.

“Look at you, beautiful. So fucking needy for me, just as I adore.”

For some reason, you felt immobile, able only to enjoy and receive pleasure from him. You didn’t even know what to say exactly. More than thinking it was true, you needed him right now, every part of you begging for him.

“No one is going to touch you like I do, princess. Remember that,” Chan said in a deep voice, full of desire.

He was so right. You were never going to love anyone else like the way he did it to you. You needed him right now; you were being overwhelmed with stimulation.

He licked his lips, and you trembled and whimpered as you felt his fingers gently brush against your clit, teasing you even more. Your pussy throbbed, your nipples hardened, and at that point you felt so wet.

You enjoyed his touch and with trembling hands you tried to unbutton his shirt, caressing his exquisite abs, and just as you were about to unbuckle his belt, he leaned toward you, kissing you more desperately, messily, in contrast to his touch against your pussy, which became more precise, his fingers pressing your sweet spot, playing with your clit, driving you crazy, and then his fingers moved down to tease you as he felt your wetness between your folds. Chan knew exactly what he wanted from you. Right now.

But first, he delighted in your lips, in your tongue fighting against his, and then he seductively went back down to your skin, playing with your breasts, licking them and using them mercilessly, just like his free hand that ran all over you.

You stroked his hair, letting yourself be carried away more and more by the delicious movements toward your clit, and you moaned his name loudly as you felt his fingers bury themselves inside you, without losing your caresses on your sensitive spot. You were being touched so exquisitely. He thrust deeply into you, his long fingers reaching many weak spots in you, all of him was your weak spot. You were feeling so pleasurable, enough to want to come if he sped up his movements, but his next action took your breath away and you knew exactly what he was about to do.

“No one is going to eat your pretty pussy like I do, baby girl. Who’s gonna make you tremble like I do, huh? That stupid Yang kid, mmm I don’t think so, you’re so mine. Isn’t that right?”

He had knelt in front of you and recited those words, looking into your eyes, his breath hitting your pubis, and your heart beating faster. You captured the moment when your boyfriend pulled down your little panties, which he had chosen, and his attractive face approached your intimate area, almost ready to take your much-needed pussy.

“Yes” you replied nervously, shaking.

You wanted him to do it already, you knew he was teasing you by the way his fingers kept playing with your clit, and finally, you felt a brief release, but the tension in your body intensified. You whimpered with satisfaction as you finally felt his warm, strong tongue push against your clit, his lips sucking it so exquisitely, reveling in you. His hands grabbed you roughly, your thighs, your folds, spreading them apart to give him better access to your core. Meanwhile, you whimpered for him, pressing your back harder against the door, restless and desperate, feeling his tongue stimulate every inch of your slick, trembling pussy. You held onto his shoulders, impatient for the pleasure you were experiencing that was altering your entire system. It was too much. It was perfect.

He continued, and for a moment you felt so helplessly pleased, almost at your climax, that you lowered your gaze, and nothing could compare to what you were witnessing—but the sensations were still a thousand times better—yet a sight like that stimulated all your senses better, and it was Chan, crouched down for you, eating your pussy with desperate hunger, but being gentle with you, his attractive face buried in you. Just like the first time he did it, you could still remember it with such longing.

He knew each of your spots, he knew you were a little weak, that you didn’t like to prolong your pleasure for too long once you both started touching each other, but he loved to tease you, to enjoy himself, so his tongue moved mercilessly over your cunt.

Chan delighted in you thoroughly, merely for the light sadistic pleasure of making you suffer by being loaded with so much pleasure, and for his masochistic pleasure of letting his cock throb inside him. Chan savored your pussy, slurping on it, his soft gasps echoing in the isolated bathroom of that club, his babbling telling you how delicious you were to him, completely lost in you and the sensation of your vagina pleasing his mouth and thrilling every fiber of his being as if he were enjoying and tasting a wonderful delight, and he was, his cock trapped in his pants coming to life on its own, veins popping, aching and impatient for attention. He cursed, feeling desperate, but for him, it was worth every second of tasting you, of receiving your moans and your body yielding in desire in response. Feeding his ego, his obsessive admiration for you, reminding him that you are only his.

You began to melt away little by little, holding on tightly to his shoulders and caressing his head a little more wildly, and Chan knew you were so close, so his licks became sloppier to tease you more, but he complemented it by penetrating you again with his fingers. You were blinded by pleasure, feeling restlessly close to orgasm, and it left you breathless.

He looked up, only to find from that angle your whole body struggling, your muscles contracting, your breasts exposed, and your pleasure sweetly captured on your face.

And you couldn’t hold it in any longer. Chan pulled his lips away from you a little, leaving you with a void just at your peak, adjusted his uncomfortable erection a little, making him moan softly, and looked into your eyes and encouraged you passionately in the only way he knew how to turn you on. You were a slut for Chan’s little comments during sex.

“Cum for me, princess, you can do it, cum for me, and remember who’s the only one who makes you come like this.”

You whimpered exaggeratedly, you could feel your whole body flushed. Chan smiled, his lips sweetly glossy from your fluids, and with a quick movement he buried himself back into your pussy, naughtily replacing those fingers that filled you mercilessly with his ruthless tongue, thus triggering your orgasm, making you come for him just as he had asked.

“Mmm, Channie...”

You took a deep breath. You had completely lost your composure from the wonderful oral sex Chan always gave you. You ended up with your muscles aching from your orgasm, leaving your legs trembling and weak.

Chan lapped up your orgasm and tentatively tried to clean up the mess you had made with his mouth, gently teasing you despite being a little tired and very agitated.

“Good girl, good girl.” Chan stood up, licked his lips, wiped the corners of his mouth, and teased you by briefly pinching your nipples. “You’re going to continue being a good girl for me, huh? You gonna take my cock, now?” he spoke in a rough voice, yet exaggerating his intonation a little as if he wanted to speak sweetly to you.

You watched him closely. You were still processing how good you felt, and your intimacy was slowly recovering with a series of exquisite pulsations... Fuck, you thought. His comment vibrated through your body again, and you felt the situation become so real as soon as you saw his long, attractive fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and, in one swift motion, pull down his underwear and pants to expose his erect cock, throbbing with desire without being stimulated, looking as appetizing and beautifully red-pink as you love it.

Chan took off his jacket, feeling his body hot, and let out a smug chuckle, almost blushing, finding the bold and slightly hungry way you looked at his cock amusing. Then you bit your lip, and the image of your body wrapped in desire, your breasts tenderly exposed, and your agitated expression, caused his cock to twitch and move violently on its own, contracting his muscles and covering its tip with slippery naughty precum. You worked magic on him. He groaned, hurting and exciting him at the same time, so he immediately appeased the unsettling sensation of the incredible load descending along his entire length, taking and caressing his cock gently.

You were surprised by the burning obscenity of his big cock trembling and then his big hand wrapping around it. You got turned on again, this time, perhaps even more than before, knowing that now it would be him fucking you and his cock filling you that would take you to a new climax.

“What’s the matter, baby? You want to touch it, don’t you?”

You met his eyes and nodded enthusiastically. He smiled and guided your hand to his cock, letting you stroke it.

“Fuck,” he moaned softly and breathlessly, closing his eyes. “Just like that, your hands are sooo soft, my pretty baby,” he babbled almost incoherently.

You felt his cock throbbing perfectly in your hand. You stroked it gently and patiently, remembering the smooth texture of his entire length. Chan bit his lip, holding back from whimpering at the sweet but ruthless way you were stimulating him.

He suddenly lifted your chin gently and made you look at him, taking your gaze away from his needy penis being stroked in your hand.

“What is your pretty mind thinking? Mmm, when you touch me like this?” Chan spoke sweetly, with genuine curiosity.

He saw how expertly you caressed him, your eyes shining with lust... your mouth expressing soft moans... but he wanted to know more, he wanted to make you talk dirty, it was so ridiculous and hot at the same time for him, saying obscenities could make him cum even faster than you thought.

You blushed instantly. What were you thinking? You were thinking so many things, your mind focused on the sensation of his manhood, on him enjoying himself, on your pussy reacting on its own every time you were with him... it was difficult to express.

Chan saw your intentions to speak, but you kept that shy and uncertain look that he knew so well.

“Come on, baby. Say it. Say it all for me, talk dirty to me...”

You almost gasped. You bit your lip and confessed with some embarrassment:

“I love your cock.”

“Mmm,” he moaned, feeling more and more aroused, as if that word coming out of your mouth sweetly pressed a button in him, turning him on even more, “is that so, baby girl?”

You began to get hornier, it was the seductive way Chan spoke to you and seeing him writhing gently with pleasure at your caresses. So you continued, with a little more confidence.

“Yes. It’s so big, Channie...” you hissed and increased the pace of your strokes, cupping his balls, and teasing his tip.

“Mmm,” he threw his head back, ecstatic. “Yeah? You love it when I stretch your little pussy and fuck you, don’t you? When I fuck you raw and fill you with my cum.”

Your pussy throbbed hard, reacting to his comment, your mind perfectly remembering the feeling of his cock filling you. The situation heated up so quickly, both of you were so aroused that you began to babble nonsense.

“Fuck, it’s so good, I wanna put it in my mouth.”

He giggled seductively. “What are you waiting for? Do it, get on your knees. I’m all yours.”

Your exposed pussy felt overwhelmingly aroused, used, and as soon as you got down on your knees, it was no different. You felt like you could squirt or drip at any moment, and that distressed you. The whole situation overwhelmed you; everything about you was so damn turned on. So you took his cock, licking every inch of it and sucking it, at your own pace and with your own technique, which Chan had guided you through very well beforehand.

His hands went to your hair, and he didn’t take his eyes off the image of your pretty face being fucked by his needy erection for a second.

You loved that Chan filled every possible part of you, you couldn't help it. You loved filling him with pleasure too and seeing his perfectly sculpted body from that angle while you sucked his cock, plus he tasted exquisite.

You teased and aroused him for hot but agonizing minutes, you were just starting to drool over his erect penis. Chan played with you, pushing your head and pressing you to take more of him, deeper, but when he saw you gasping for breath and struggling, he pulled you away from him. You looked at him with teary eyes and an undescribable desire to continue if he wanted to, but he only whispered to you.

“Come here, baby, now.”

Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest. You were so excited about whatever he was going to do to you, and you squealed when he picked you up, putting your back against the door and making you wrap your legs around his body. You knew what was coming, but you didn’t expect his next comment.

“Beg for it, baby. Convince me and maybe I’ll fuck you.”

Your arms were around his neck and caressing his hair, you were so ready for him to fuck you; but you blinked in confusion. You blushed again, but you needed it so badly.

“Please, Chan, fuck me, please. I need to feel you,” you pouted.

He smiled. “Be more specific.”

“Please fill me with your cock, I need you.”

He bit his lip and moaned, those words sounding so wrong yet so lustful coming from your sweet lips.

“Mmm... why would I do that?”

You flinched and gasped at the unexpected sensation of a finger inside your pussy, sliding in and out of you.

“Come on, baby... what could be fucking you right now is my cock and not just a finger...”

Even just his finger worked wonders on you, it was only frustrating you more.

“Please, Channie. Because we both want it. I’m yours, please, fuck m-”

You were speechless and moaned raggedly instead. He couldn’t wait any longer either. He needed you. Chan buried his entire cock inside you, opening you up completely, leaving you so little time to get used to him when he was already moving inside you. He whimpered. Your pussy was so ready and prepared for him that he removed his finger and entered you with ease, but your tight walls weren’t expecting the thickness of his visitor so soon.

He fucked you there, intensely, unleashing all his energy on you, manipulating your body to his liking, stimulating and using your exposed breasts, sucking them, biting them, leaving marks that would fill him with pride every time he made you his.

“Who else is going to fill you up and fuck you like I do, huh? Say it!”

He increased the pace of his thrusts. You were both so close.

You whimpered, without even thinking about an answer. “No one, fuck, only you, Chan.”

“That’s right, my love. You understand me...”

He continued for a few more moments, until you hugged his body closer, your chest rubbing against his, his moans and gasps in your ear, and him controlling your body, moving it violently to the rhythm of his cock pounding your pussy and pleasing every part of you, until you climaxed in an intense orgasm, leaving you trembling and agitated.

You reveled in the scent of his perfume and felt his exhausted cock tremble inside you, followed by the warmth of his orgasm filling you. Chan moaned audibly, overwhelmed by the pleasurable experience. Immediately thinking how much he loved you, in every way, connecting in all his fantasies, being part of his sweetest dreams.

You searched for his face, his cute face looking at you sweetly despite just finishing such a dirty and hot act, and, blinded by your love for him, you kissed him on the tip of his nose, making him flush completely, in contrast to everything that had just happened...

“Should we go home now, sweetheart? I can’t wait to cuddle.”

the end.

𐙚 general taglist: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @hyune-sssne @oddracha @choso4u @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @bokkiesluv @thvsuga @myrkhive

⊹ chris taglist: @cherricola-star @biscuitthefirst @vernorica124

lmk any issue w the taglist :p

[thirdwheelravi]

then help me with the crossword in the mornings

15k | rated M | read on ao3 Eddie shrugs, goes back to chopping cilantro. “I guess I didn’t think you were that serious about moving out right now. I kinda figured you’d just…” “Stay?” Buck says, his voice suddenly so quiet Eddie’s not sure he really heard it at all. He looks over his shoulder at Buck who has a distant sort of look on his face. “Yeah. I mean. Chris and I make pretty good roommates, don’t we?” Eddie finds a way to make Buck stay.

It’s going to be a good evening, Eddie can feel it.

He’s putting the finishing touches on his slow-cooker barbacoa, excited to make it for Buck since he only got to experience it through a screen last time. He thinks this batch is going to turn out even better than the first one—spent all morning shopping for the ingredients and assembling them in the slow cooker. Now, eight hours later, the whole house smells like slow-roasted meat and piquant spices, everything coming together perfectly. There are tortillas warming in the oven, and Eddie even threw together a little watermelon mint agua fresca with the first ripe melons of the summer.

It’s just as Eddie’s chopping up some fresh onions and herbs that Buck walks into the kitchen and says, “I think I found a place.”

Eddie’s hand goes still and tight on the handle of the knife. He knew, vaguely, that Buck was looking at apartments. He’s gone to a few showings here and there, but Eddie kinda figured it wasn’t exactly at the top of his priorities, given everything that’s happened in the last couple weeks. The apartment collapse, the birth of his baby nephew, the tearful and shocking revelation that Bobby was still alive, subjected to a highly classified and highly experimental treatment for the virus.

With so much going on, Eddie had kind of put the prospect of Buck moving out to the back of his mind. Besides, they’ve been making it work, sharing the house, sharing the kitchen, even the bed.

But apparently, it’s been on Buck’s mind. Enough that he’s found a place. He thinks.

“You found a place,” Eddie echoes.

“Yeah. It’s right in West Hollywood, so not too far from the station, and a little closer to Maddie and Chim’s place than the loft was. It’s a one bedroom, and it’s got a balcony. They said I could move in on the first.”

Eddie feels a sudden, abrupt sense of the floor falling out from under him, like a roof collapsing from the heat of a house-fire.

(keep reading on ao3)

[natty-light-of-my-life]

the genius, billionaire, playboy, philantropist's niece

Summary: Being Tony Stark’s niece, you often found yourself hanging out with the Avengers and had developed a bit of a crush on Natasha when you were a teenager. The two of you joke about it now, but Yelena doesn’t seem to find it all that funny.

Notes: Yes, I gave Tony a brother as a plot device. Canon is merely a suggestion.

Having come from a family of geniuses and engineers, people were surprised to find out that you instead decided to pursue a path in social work. Your father had taken the news so badly, in fact, that he sent you into the city to live with your uncle Tony when you were only fifteen years old. “Come back when you develop more than two brain cells to rub together,” he’d scoffed, convinced that your uncle’s wild, unstable lifestyle would scare you back to the suburbs within the year.

Despite that, not only had you stayed in the city for the rest of the year, you continued through high school, graduating with a diploma from New York City Public Schools just to spite your previous, pretentious, private school upbringing. 

But you gained more than just a different high school experience. Living with your uncle was exciting, if a bit unconventional. Sure, he had turned over a new, superheroic leaf, but those first few years that you spent with him before Iron Man, before the Avengers Initiative, they left an impression on you. You enjoyed sneaking out of your room in Stark Tower and going upstairs to witness the parties that Tony loved to throw. Sometimes, you would be able to sneak a fruity cocktail from an unsuspecting bartender. Sometimes you would meet some really cool people.

You had met Natalie Rushman, now Natasha Romanoff, at one of those events. Oh, she was drop-dead gorgeous, older than you, and you were in the midst of your gay awakening as a freshly seventeen-year-old girl with Stark as your last name. Although you had taken on your uncle’s playboy-ish ways with the girls at school, you had dropped everything and everyone else when you met her. You were smitten at first sight. 

Of course, Natasha only ever saw you as a kid and tolerated you as any undercover agent would do in her position. However, that didn’t deter you. You followed your uncle, and in effect, Natasha, around wherever they went. You sat in front of Tony’s office, with an overpriced cup of coffee to hand to Natasha any morning that you didn’t have to go to school. Coffee that she would accept and immediately hand over to your uncle (it was his credit card that paid for it, so you weren’t too mad about it). You would volunteer to be a waiter at his extravagant parties and spend all night catering to the older woman’s every whim, not that she asked you to do anything except bring her more flutes of champagne. The polite smiles she gave you afterwards lingered with you for weeks at a time.

Tony found it hilarious, especially so when you were told that Natalie, the PA that you were so enamored with, was actually an ex-KGB, could-kill-a-man-with-her-thighs (and not in the fun way), bona fide super spy.

“Sorry,” you had asked, clearing your throat, “was that supposed to make me less attracted to you?” Nat had only rolled her eyes and handed you a stuffed toy rabbit that she had picked up on her most recent mission to god-knows-where.

“A reminder that you are a child and much too vulnerable to be playing with the predators of the world.”

“Aw, Natty,” you had cooed, “giving me gifts now, are ya? I always knew you loved me, deep down.”

Natasha never told you, but you knew that she had, indeed, come to love you. But only platonically. She had made that very clear through the years.

“If you try one more pick-up line on me, baby Stark, I will throw you out this window.”

“You called me baby! And I’ll happily fall for you, babe.”

Then you had gone off to college, and while you thought your heart had been broken, having left New York City without getting together with the Black Widow, you quickly realized that maybe leaving the city was for the best. Eventually, you realized that you were just young and impressionable, that Natasha Romanoff was too hot to ignore, and that was okay. You dated a lot in college, nothing too serious, and finished undergrad with a better understanding of yourself and your sexuality.

Now you were in your second year of grad school. The Avengers had made up after their civil war-sized disagreement, and everything seemed to be smooth sailing right along.

You were studying your notes in the Avenger Compound’s common room when you heard footsteps shuffling in the adjoining hallway. Picking your head up, you noticed the cluster of bodies that approached you: Tony, Steve, Nat, and–

“Hey, kid,” your uncle greeted you, “didn’t know you’d be here this weekend. You get to be one of the first to meet our new stray!” Immediately, this earned an elbow to his ribs, and Tony grunted in pain.

“I am no stray, tin man,” said an unfamiliar, scowling, young woman. She had a conspicuous Eastern European accent and was dressed very fashionably in green courduroy. Stray wisps of her blonde hair fell out of the edges of a fishtail braid. Ah, you thought, another attractive Russian. You were in trouble.

You gave the new arrival a warm smile and introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Yelena,” the woman said, holding out a hand for you to shake. You took it, surprised to feel the countless callouses in her firm grip.

“She’s Natasha’s sister,” chimed Tony. Your head snapped over to the older woman.

“Sister?”

Natasha smirked, obviously amused at your dumbstruck expression, “What, is Clint the only one allowed to have a secret, hidden family?” You looked between the two women, not seeing a physical resemblance, yet found an uncanny likeness in their stances, their air of confidence and–

“You are still holding my hand, dorogoy.”

You blushed and hastily released the other woman’s hand, mumbling an apology.

“No need to apologize, kotenok, I never said I did not enjoy holding the hand of a pretty girl.”

In the coming weeks, you grew ever more enamored with Yelena, much to the rest of the team’s amusement. Even Natasha joined in the ribbing.

“You seem to have a type, baby Stark,” she joked during a quiet moment between the two of you in the kitchen.

“Aw, are you jealous, Natty? Don’t worry, babe, you’ll always have a special place in my heart,” you teased as you rested your chin on her shoulder, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind.

At the sound of a throat being cleared, you flinched and let the redhead go. Yelena was standing in the doorway, holding your phone in her hand.

“Uh, I do not want to interrupt, but your phone keeps beeping and I would like it to stop,” she said, keeping her gaze on her older sister as she spoke to you. Her eyebrows were scrunched adorably, and you thanked her as you checked the class group chat you were in. It was blowing up, and you frowned.

“Shit, our professor just moved up the due date of our paper,” you mumbled, “I hate to skip movie night, but I haven’t even started the draft yet….” The three of you were the only ones in the compound this weekend as the boys and Wanda were all off on a mission. 

“It’s alright,” Natasha reassured, “Yelena and I have been needing some catch-up time anyway.”

You looked at the younger sister, and she nodded, seemingly reluctantly.

“Okay, thanks for understanding,” you said as you ran to grab your coat and bag. “I’ll let you pick the movie next time, Nat! Love ya, bye!” In your rush and panic about your impending assignment being due, you missed seeing Yelena’s scowl deepen. Was there something going on between you and her sister?

Due to your overwhelming and deepening crush on the newest Avenger, you took it upon yourself to be responsible for once and keep your distance. You would just be friends, you insisted to yourself. You made sure to never be alone with Yelena if you could help it, and stuck to Natasha’s side whenever it was just the three of you. 

While your infatuation with Natasha had long since faded, you were still a Stark and Natasha was still fun to flirt with. Over the years, it had become an inside joke between the two of you, and the other Avengers had grown used to you testing your best one-liners on the assassin. 

After a truly awful line you had voiced at a team dinner, Thor had laughed heartily, “I liked that one, little Stark!” He patted your shoulder as he went to serve himself more food, “You are much more charming than your uncle.”

“See,” you pouted, “Thor thinks I’m charming, Nat. Are you charmed?”

Tony scoffed, “Thor’s opinions are dubious at best.”

Natasha shot you a deadpan look, “So charmed, I’m nauseous from your presence.”

“I think that’s just Wanda’s cooking, actually,” you quipped.

Wanda glared at you, “I am a great chef and you know it.” She moved to take your plate away, “If it’s so bad, then starve.”

You clung to your plate and whined, “Nooo I’m sorry, your cooking is great, darling.”

A screeching sound of a fork scraping across a plate had everyone’s head turning to look at the blonde-haired source of the noise. Yelena looked up and scowled at the eyes on her, daring someone to say something. You cocked your head, getting her attention.

‘You okay?’ you mouthed at her. She looked away and huffed out of her nose, chomping down on a forkful of potatoes.

A few weeks later, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself alone with Yelena in the kitchen. The others had left on last-minute official Avenger duties, and Yelena, despite having joined the team months ago, had yet to be introduced to the public as an Avenger. As a result, she wasn’t invited.

You were making yourself a snack in what you thought was comfortable silence when Yelena spoke up.

“Why do you never flirt with me?”

The knife in your hand slipped and embedded itself in the grain of the cutting board, narrowly missing your thumb. You stared wide-eyed at the apple slices in your hand before confusedly turning to the other woman in the room.

 “Do….do you want me to flirt with you?” you asked tentatively. Hope was rising in your chest, suffocating you despite your best efforts to tamp it down.

Yelena looked away, glaring at the apples behind you, “Depends. Do you want to flirt with me?”

You were confused, “I don’t understand, Yelena. Do you…. Are you feeling left out because the team left you behind? Because I promise you those Avenger meetings are really boring and–”

The blonde groaned in exasperation and stood up, marching over to where you were standing. You gulped, mouth going dry, as Yelena came closer. She aggressively and repeatedly poked your chest.

“You ignore me. You never look me in the eye. Yet you cling to my sister like a lost puppy. You call the witch ‘darling’. You video chat with your college friends and laugh with strangers you just met,” Yelena swallowed, her hand coming to a rest on your sternum, “What did I do to make you hate me, instead?”

You let out a staggered sigh, heart beating so hard that you were sure that Yelena could feel its contractions under her palm. “I don’t hate you, Yelena.”

She looked at you, eyes heartbreakingly glazed and threatening to spill over in frustration, “Don’t lie to me, dorogoy. You can hate me, Y/N, but do not dare lie to me.”

You shook your head, reaching up and grasping her hand with both of yours, your heart thump-thump-thumping underneath your entwined fingers. “I don’t hate you, Yelena. I don’t know how to hate you. I wouldn’t want to ever hate you. I ignore you because I don’t know how to act around you. I’ve never flirted with you because you deserve better than that. You deserve something real and wholesome and someone that can treat their partner better than my past situationships would suggest I ever could. I would never lie to you, and I am sorry I ever made you feel lesser than the most absolutely beautiful, deserving person that I’ve come to know.” 

You finally closed your eyes and wrapped Yelena in a hug. She stiffened at first, but before you could release her, she swung her arms around your neck and pulled you in tightly.

When you two finally pulled away, you let out a wet laugh. Yelena tried to discreetly wipe her eyes on your shoulder before letting go.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

You cocked your head, “About what?”

Yelena took your hand in hers, the callouses you were first introduced to all those months ago tracing patterns on your wrist, “That I deserve better than you.” She leaned in and your eyes fluttered as her sweet breath and sweeter words warmed you to your core, “I am messy too, Y/N. And it is I who does not deserve you.”

Your breathing hitched as you started to correct her, but she gently bumped her nose into yours before a word could leave your lips.

“But I am a selfish woman, Y/N,” she whispered, caressing your cheek with the hand that was not holding yours, “and I do not care.”

She stole the stuttered breath that left your lips before kissing you, finally. You would spend forever proving her wrong if you had to, you promised yourself. If she lets you.

And she let you.

---

And scene! Poor Wanda "then starve" Maximoff catching strays lmao. Might give her a fic in the future to make up for it 👀

[knaia]

hi !! just wanted to thank everyone who worked so hard to make dashcon 2 such a success, i had so much fun watching panels and seeing people that are like me happily existing. thank you to the creators for taking such a huge chance to bring us all together (for a meme of all things), thank you to the panelists who spent so much time, energy, and love creating things for us to enjoy, thank you to everyone behind the scenes who made this all come together, thank you to the discord mods for keeping everything organized and for giving us virtual folks to make friends too, thank you to the people who worked to make sure dashcon 2 could be as accessible for people as possible (both irl and virtually), thank you to lochlan and everyone else who made the first dashcon (despite how absolutely chaotic it was) and made the second one a possibility in the first place, and thank you to all of the people who have made dashcon 2 so much fun to experience. <3

okay time to pass out for almost an entire day

[revelboo]

Hello! Could I ask for doctor!reader with Ratchet? Reader also tired and sick of patients. Maybe Ratchet interested in human anatomy and Reader is interested in Mech's anatomy.

Sure!

Feel Like Rain Pt 8

Ratchet x Reader

• “There’s twenty something bones in my hand,” you say watching him slowly and carefully manipulate one of your fingers. Distracting yourself from the embarrassment of the sponge bath by teaching him about you and learning about him in turn after you dressed. Telling yourself his touch had been only curiosity. You’re as alien to him as he is to you. “Carpals, metacarpals, phalanges, and um, I can’t remember the tiny ones.” Frowning slightly, because you should remember. “We experience the world through touch.”

• “You have a better range of motion than I do. Not by a lot, though,” he murmurs, letting go of your delicate fingers to turn his own hand over. And those soft hands grip his, fingertips smoothing over the back of his hand. The press and slide of your fingers against his making him think of chirolinguistics. Venting as it suddenly shifts, becomes almost an intimacy as he focuses on you and becomes aware of your weak field. “Some Cybertronians use a touch based language to communicate.”

• “Really?” Gripping his big hand, pleased when he lets you lift it up, palm toward you, you line up your hand against his much bigger palm. “Five digits. Same shape. What are the odds?” His hand is warm against yours as his servos splay out and you mimic him, smiling. Because this is new. Fascinating. Most of your day before spent dealing with patients with the flu, sprains, arthritis. A never ending stream of complaints that sometimes makes it hard to remember these are people on the bad days not just tasks to complete. Talking to him, learning about him, reminds you that at one time, you’d loved this.

• “Slim,” he growls, watching you smile. Still mortified at what he’d done, that he’d explored your soft body. And you’d let him. Telling himself it was just to learn, that he has so many humans in his care now, you included, and he needs to know more about you. Everything if he’s going to take care of you. “We have extensive sensory nets in our hands, too.”

• “Those act like your nerves?” You ask, gripping his hand to smooth your thumbs against his palm before flexing his hand at the wrist. Amused that he’s allowing it and you wonder what he thinks of you. If he’s just humoring you or if he’s as curious as you are. And the mesh at the inside of his wrist is metal, but surprisingly soft. Shifting to sit on his thigh, you reach for his face, hands stopping just shy. Flushing when his servos wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand to him. Giving you permission to touch him. And his metal skin is warm under your fingers, has some give to it.

Previous

[annie-creates]

Secrets and lies

Pairing: Garrick Tavis x reader

Genre: angst with a very fluffy ending

Words: 2700

Note: Y'all wanted a happy ending and I think it came out adorable. Written for @empyreanevents free day of Garrick week, but kinda using the distance and loyalty prompt in a new way.

Masterlist

If you were to choose the happiest day of your life, it would probably be the one Garrick asked you to be his girlfriend. It was almost summer, after you spent your whole first year at Basgiath tiptoeing around each other. He was in his second, busy with classes and tasks he couldn’t tell you about. You had your differences other than the grade, he was a section leader and technically your supervisor. You also weren’t from Tyrrendor and so you didn’t have much shared lived experiences. He was a fierce and tempered fighter whereas you rather turned to composure and calmness to settle strifes.

You could say you were two differences inevitably attracting each other like magnets. Your gaze lingered on him almost daily at lunch and he checked you out from afar after each of your matches on the mat. It became sort of a routine clear to anyone but you. Your friends bet on the time it will take you to notice while his joked about his lovestruck faces any time you walked past.

It took you months to act on your feelings, or to even correctly name them. But then, after a long discussion with your reflection in a mirror, you decided maybe it would be best to try act on them. What’s the worst that could happen? He would ridicule you and say no? Life in the rider’s quadrant was too short to not take chances.

So you asked Garrick to spar with you under the pretext that you want him to teach you some new moves and techniques. You offered to help him study for physics tests. And soon you were hanging out in the small library on the Saturday evenings, talking about the least important things. He watched your eyes light up about ladybugs and it was the most ethereal scene to him.

The only one comparable was asking you to be his girlfriend the night you officially survived your first year. You still weren’t completely back from war games, at least not in your headspace. So he took you out, exchanged the loud celebrations filled with alcohol and stupid dares for the quiet evening breeze and lazy rustling of the lake. He looked at you with the glint in his eye, like you’re the most magical thing he has ever seen.

“What?” you asked suddenly self-conscious, pausing in the middle of your rant about weeds. “Do I have a leftover cake somewhere?”

He just shook his head, watching you gently examine your face piece by piece with your hands with an amused smile. You couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than having remnants of food between your teeth or something, but you came up empty handed, which only fueled your confusion.

“Stop laughing at me Tavis,” you warned him with a soft jab into his shoulder he hardly felt.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Garrick defended.

“Sure you aren’t,” you huffed. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t,” he admitted quietly, if you didn’t know him better, you’d say he was getting shy with you. “You are the most magical sight I have ever laid eyes on.”

You were getting tangled in your own puzzlement but it wasn’t important, because Garrick put his warm palms on your face and when you didn’t protest, he kissed you. Timidly at first, then more surely and possessively. From that night on there was no question of who you belonged to. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. You thought there could be no better path for you than going from friends with Garrick to lovers.

If you were to choose the day it all went south, it was probably Halloween of your second year. You spent the summer in a love-filled bliss, almost every minute of your day somehow preoccupied with Garrick. If you weren’t with him at the moment, you were thinking about when you’ll be reconnected and every night you went to bed excited to wake up next to him in the morning.

When school started up again, you didn’t notice the changes at first. Sometimes Garrick had to do his own things, but it made sense, he was still a grade above you and busy with his own training. You didn’t mind that sometimes he didn’t visit you in the evening or join you for lunch. You were still two different people.

The first time you noticed was when he refused to train with you. You were working on a hard maneuver for weeks, Garrick teaching you and cheering you on. He was certain you almost had it, but then suddenly became too busy to help you. You accepted the excuse of needing to train Tyrrish first years, but it still stung. From one or two missed trainings he was suddenly too busy for you any time you asked, so much so that you had to find yourself a new permanent sparring partner.

Then it was your dates in the city. He was always too tired after a mission the leadership sent him to or too preoccupied with studying. You were excited to finally go explore the neighborhood, but Garrick’s absence tainted your experience and suddenly the pubs didn’t seem so vibrant and lively. The nights you spent there with your squad you still caught yourself thinking about how much better it would be if Garrick was here taking you dancing and carrying your shoes on the way home.

“You know, you could go out with me sometimes,” you tried to persuade him but to no avail.

“Sorry love, I just have to do this,” he made it seem like it was just one task but you knew better.

It was always something. Always some report too classified to tell you about it or some homework too advanced for you to help him. And so you hung out in his room while he worked, but even just sitting a few feet away from him you suddenly felt weirdly alone. Like he was there, physically, but wasn’t really invested anymore. After a month, he started asking you to leave, and it became so often you rather didn’t visit unless he came to your own room. Which he did less and less.

And then he started lying. Or maybe it was just the first time you caught him red handed, the night he didn’t show up for dinner. You went to the gym after having to eat alone, even though he promised he definitely wouldn’t miss this one. And there he was, much to your surprise, helping his pink-haired friend with some techniques too fast for you to grasp. They both turned to you like you interrupted them from something personal, as if the gym belonged to them.

“You missed dinner,” you murmured after he tried to reach you and rather paid attention to your own training.

Other times you found him discussing things with Bodhi and Xaden in the dark corners of the rotunda when he told you he’ll be too busy with flight training or out on an outpost run. Garrick could be secretive sometimes, but he never blatantly lied to you, or maybe you just haven’t noticed. The secrets, hushed tones when you came around or quickly hidden books from your sight didn’t really help his case.

“I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me,” you tried to voice your frustrations multiple times but he always just brushed them aside. “Why are you keeping secrets from me? I thought you trusted me.”

“I’m not keeping secrets,” he argued tiredly. “It’s just classified boring stuff.”

But you didn’t fully trust him anymore. Deffinitely not after his group of marked friends has grown with violet Sorrengail. From what you saw from the beginning of the year they hated her, so why were they suddenly all over her? As if you didn’t have too little time with your boyfriend already, now she was on his list of duties too. It made the time you spent together practically non-existent.

“Do you even love me still?” You questioned in spring, your voice little and scared.

“Of course I do! How could I not when you’re the most beautiful thing out there?” Garrick shook his head at you as if you were crazy, but his actions spoke otherwise.

Maybe beauty wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe he got bored with you, the differences you had, the lack of experience you had compared to him. When his last war games came around and he promised everything will be alright after that, you found that you didn’t trust him anymore. How could you believe what he said when he lied to your face so many times this year? About where he’s been, with who and what he did there.

How could you not jump to the worst conclusions when he kept feeding your self-conscious intrusive thoughts? When he was pronounced dead and then shoed up completely fine a week later, it was just enough evidence of his lying. Once again he did not tell you anything about their mission at Athebyne even when you begged and screamed.

When he was sent to Samara and you went to say goodbye, he was already gone. No message, no promises of keeping in touch and staying together, no kisses for good luck, no tips on how to survive your last year. You did get a letter from him a week later, heavily deducted by leadership but a letter none the less, and it gave you a bit of hope. Maybe you weren’t a completely lost cause. You wrote him back, talking about anything and everything happening at Basgiath, but he seemed uninterested.

Then Xaden brought you one or two letter from him when he visited Violet. You were a little envious of her now, that she not only got to leave Basgiath twice a month but got to see her boyfriend every week. But if you had that chance, would Garrick even want to see you? After three months you only got a letter from Garrick once a month, and then they stopped coming completely. You were worried sick, asking Xaden if Garrick is alright. But he said he’s fine, just busy with work.

Apparently Garrick was always too busy for you for the past year and a half. When your birthday came around, there was nothing. No wishes, no gift, not even a letter. As if it wasn’t enough that he almost missed them the year before, now he obviously completely forgot. You stopped sending your letter after that, he wasn’t answering them for the past couple weeks anyway. And the worst thing was how used to it you got. To the missed opportunities, the loneliness, the lies he probably thought you’re too dumb to uncover.

When he turned up at Basgiath with Xaden and threw it into chaos, you reluctantly went to Aretia, but you didn’t even look at him anymore. You knew he didn’t even look for you himself, and it was only pure luck you happened to be around in time to leave. All these changes, all these secrets, it was suddenly too much. Your heart heavied under the realization he had hidden his home and this whole revolution from you since even before you officially started dating.

But even then, he caught you in the swarming of students trying to find dorms and dining halls they could go to. His palm on your elbow felt heavy, suddenly unfamiliar. The change scared you, but you flinched away from his touch on instinct, your body still incredibly sore from your last round of RSC. He let you go after that, a little struck with the wince.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Garrick asked as if he still had any business knowing anything about you.

“You would know if you didn’t stop sending me letters,” is all the comeback you come up with after a minute of silent staring.

You leave before he can argue with you, and to your relief he is called somewhere more important. You found a room to share with your best friend, it was nothing fancy but for the circumstances it was much better than a holding cell for treason. After a bit of chaos you start taking classes at Riorson house, not ideal solution but it will have to do for now.

While you tried to busy yourself in classes and assignments, Garrick found himself too distracted to do any of his work. He knew he wasn’t being completely present, but fuck he didn’t eve realize he didn’t send you a letter in so long. All his thoughts were suddenly swirling with worry about you and how to fix all these fuck-ups he accumulated without even realizing it.

“Hey, can we talk about this?” He cornered you on Friday after classes.

“I don’t know if there even is still anything to talk about Garrick,” you admitted with a sigh.

“Of course there is. We need to talk about us, and…” but you didn’t let him finish.

“What us? The us where you started lying to me? Where you were too busy to even speak to me, even still back at school? Or when you were too busy to even send me a stupid letter? The us where only one of us didn’t know about all of this?” You spread your arms to show the whole of Aretia and shake your head. “I don’t think there even is some us anymore to be honest.”

“Love please, I didn’t want to lie to you about these things, but you must understand I couldn’t tell you about this,” his eyes are pleading.

“But what about all the other things! The lying about hanging out with your friends, how busy you are when you were just training someone else. I would have understood Garrick, but no, you rather lied to me instead,” you sigh. “You even missed my birthday this year, did you even notice that?”

“Fuck, I… it must have slipped my mind,” Garrick combs his fingers through his hair. “But I’ll never forget again, I promise.”

“Don’t. Don’t make me promises you can’t keep. I can’t love someone who’s lying to me,” your eyes water with tears. “You might be here now, but how do I know you won’t forget about me the moment we’re at different outposts? You were distancing from me even when we were together.”

“Please, love, you know I keep promises. No more lies. I’ll tell you everything, anything you want to know. Always,” he grasped your hands in his. “Just don’t let the distance separate us. We can close it again.”

“I don’t know Garrick. You can’t break my heart again, I can’t take it,” you admitted.

“Just give me a chance, I’ll make it all right. Just one, I won’t let you down.” Garrick practically begs and how could you even say no to him?

You must admit he sticks to his word. He spends the whole night explaining everything about rebuilding Aretia into detail even when he looks absolutely exhausted from the day he had. From them on he makes sure he’s always available to have either lunch or dinner with you and never sneaks out of bed before you wake up, even if he has to give you a thousand kisses to make you aware he’s leaving.

And when you all return to Basgiath and everything becomes even more complicated and chaotic, he doesn’t distance himself but continues instead. He brings you little gifts from his travels, keeps you up to date about the whole weapons against venin situation, much to Xaden’s dismay, and takes you on a date, at least a small one, at least once a month. And when Xaden reprimands him for sharing too much information with you, he doesn’t pull away, but laughs about it with you that evening instead.

No matter how hard or complicated life during a war against dark wielders gets, he talks about it with you, even if it takes all night. And if you were to choose the happiest day of your life, it would be the day he asked you to marry him and you said yes.

[cheriladycl01]

hello me again…. Just read silent treatment LOVED it…would love another Fernando x reader one shot where she’s a normal person and goes to her home race silver stone, as a fan gets paddock passes from the team, she’s a fan of Nando's, but is really respectful and not all in his face about it, however when she meets him he’s really rude to her and upsets her before storming off.. maybe bad qualifying or something.:: you make up the ending would prefer a happy ending with serious grovelling maybe.. again angsty but fluff too please ❤️🥰

That’s kinda fucked up - Fernando x Fan! Reader

Plot: you’re the biggest Aston Martin/ Fernando Alonso fan, however when offered upgraded tickets from the team after seeing your art work on a banner, you want to meet the team, but it doesn’t go the way you think.

You’d been into f1 most of your life thanks to your dad who also been a fan since he was a kid. But he’d never had time to go to a race since the 60’s when he was a kid and now he was getting much older and you didn’t know how much longer he’d have left before travel wouldn’t be an option.

You spent a year saving up money from your freelance job of making art that got put onto phone cases, t-shirts the whole lot and you were getting quite a big influx of customers. Ones that now had started to ask for custom pieces.

Finally you had the funds and brought two grandstand tickets to the Grand Prix. You’d waited until your dad’s birthday in March to show him the tickets and he was unbelievably happy.

In celebration of going and deciding you’d film the whole experience of going and seeing a race. And you’d announced it on your shop that you’d be closing down for a few days during the Silverstone weekend but you’d for sure freebies to hand out at the race.

You had made matching outfits for you and your dad that resembled each of your favourite drivers. Your dad absolutely loved Lando Norris and would probably attempt to try adopt him if possible. He just loved the young drivers Charisma and openness about his struggles in F1.

You’d really loved Fernando Alonso. You were in a similar age range to him and just liked that he’d been in F1 for as long as he had. And he was a champion which for you anyway always helped you pick who was your favourite.

You’d made a massive mural of Fernando and Lando in your back garden and posted it on your various social media. It didn’t go viral. But both McLaren and Aston Martin had seen which led to Aston Martin reaching out to you asking if they could show you and your dad round the paddock.

Full experience, you were sent the tickets and everything while they completely refunded your grandstand tickets.

You and your dad were put up in an incredibly nice hotel right near the track and the morning of media day an Aston Martin had pulled up outside the hotel waiting to drive you and your dad to the track.

“Never did it this way when I was a kid” your dad laughed in disbelief. He couldn’t stop smiling at every little thing that was happening. You were driven into the paddock and could see fans excitedly waving at your care clearly thinking you guys were someone important, when really you were just your average girl who’d gotten incredibly lucky.

Once you got there manytesm members met you and handed you supplies. You’d spoken ahead before time that they wanted you to do some chalk art (that they’d been given permission to have done outside the front of their motorhome. So while your dad was busy drinking cocktails, eating fine foods and being shown the car by the mechanics you were hard at work under the British heat making a mural of the two Aston Martin drivers.

As you were crouched down, drawing the Aston Martin car behind the heads you’d drawn out as bases a familiar voice prickles at your ears.

“And what do we have hear?” The voice asks and you turn to see the camera immediately blushing and going red.

“Hello Martin” you smile shyly, a hand coming up to wipe the chalk from your face and try to look more presentable for the camera.

“Ah you know me?” He asks curiously with a hint of a teasing grin on his face.

“Everyone knows you” you smile back getting more confident as the conversation flows. He asks about your work and what you’re doing to where the camera pans to your art and you explain that how you’ve entered the paddock because of the kindness off Aston Martin.

He eventually leaves after you show him the way you draw and what you’re planning on doing to finish it today.

It was an odd feeling having all these people come up to you asking about what you were doing and who you were here with. And they were even more shocked seeing your bubbly and energetic dad start to brag about you and how you worked so hard to get these tickets for the pair of you!

The same day, Lance had walked out the paddock doors just as you’d finished up his fade and helmet. Many photographers were around picking up the interaction. He’d smiled at you and spent a good while talking about the drawing and asking about your work. You received many compliments and he gave your and your dad signed caps.

Your dad was beyond happy. And despite being a die hard McLaren fan spent the rest of Thursday strutting around the paddock in the racing green hat.

On the Friday you had taken a break from drawing and decided to walk with your dad through the paddock. You’d gotten loads done, a track walk with a few others, a meet and greed with Tina, the F1A driver who you’d also decided to draw into your mural.

Then the moment happened.

As he walked past your dad’s old hands started to shake in anticipation as he saw Lando in his bright orange team gear. Today your dad had been bold and was wearing his Papaya merch despite being hosted in Aston’s Motorhome.

Lando slowed a grin on his face as he saw your dad who was almost in tears at the sight of the young Brit.

“Woah, you really suit Papaya sir, not many people can pull that off” Lando offers coming up to your dad who isn’t saying anything just watching him awestruck.

“Dad, do you have something you want to give him? And ask him?” You nudge your dad his LN4 tote that you were carrying for him. He’d asked you to make something really special that you could give to Lando that was personal and would be a memory for both.

“Yes yes only if you have time!” Your dad asks looking up shyly at the young driver.

“Always have time!” Lando grins back, and then he looks seeing the sweat growing in your dad’s forehead.

“How about we take a seat over there!” Lando points at the bench that’s a little out the way of the hustle and bustle of the paddock but still close to everything.

He nods and Lando guides him over.

Your dad hands the piece of jewellery and art you’d made that had some of your dad’s input on it. Talking to him about the fact you made it and he thought of the design. Lando … being Lando swore he’d never take the bracelet off.

Your dad asked if he working mine signing his cap that he was wearing, a spear in the tote bag to protect it and the mini helmet.

Lando was an absolute gem signing it all for your old and still shaking dad.

It was even better when a Spanish voice greeted the three of you. Carlos Sainz the current Williams driver, had come jogging over pulling his friend into a hug before introducing himself as if he wasn’t one of the most notable people here.

He complimented you on your art saying his girlfriend had commissioned some earrings from you that she’d worn to a GP earlier in the year.

Your Friday was probably one of the best days on record that you’d ever had in your life. And you’d had some really good days.

Then the Saturday came, it was a really good day. Apart from the fact that Aston Martin didn’t have control of the cars in the sudden downpour that had occurred and made qualifying very difficult for the Canadian and Spanish driver on the team.

It was the first time you’d seen Fernando, and it was as you were doing some more art since the Thursday and Friday art had washed away.

He stormed out of the garage and nearly slipped on one of your chalks.

“¿Qué es esto? ¡Mujer estúpida! ¡Hay cosas que estorban!” He shouts and you jump not having understood anything but his done. It had gone higher meaning he’d asked a question at the start, what the question was you hand no idea.

“I’m sorry?” You ask cocking your head to the side but he storms off before you can even start to hear him out.

The interaction had been filmed by other fans in the paddock and when you saw it on socials that night and saw everyone sticking up for you, you felt better for yourself but worse for Fernando.

As much as it sucked being shouted at by your literal idol in F1, you also understood what it was like to have a shit weekend and one little thing tip you over the edge.

Not that it excused his reaction but you understood! You’d been seeking him out for the rest of the day, and all of race day on Sunday. But it eventually was his seeking you out. He’d found you doing your last mural on the track once the race had finished waiting so that the F1 admins could get a cool picture.

You’d decided to draw all the cars in the place they finished. Which the F1 admin loved the idea off!

Fernando had walked across the track, finding you sat on the P6 position drawing out his Aston Martin.

“You’re er good at that” he says making you jump. You look up at him with a small smile.

“I’m glad you’ve taken the time to appreciate it. Now that you aren’t angry over your Saturday result” you say continuing with your art.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved, I should’ve been kinder” he admits shuffling awkwardly.

"It's okay, honestly. I get things not going your way... the rain ruined my art too. You never got to see my mural of you" you say looking up at him and thats when his gorgeous smiles crosses his face.

"Admin actually took me out before it got washed away. I saw it but you werent there. Lance told me what I'd done wasn't very nice" he says and looks down.

"I knew he was right, thats why i came" he offers and you nod.

"You wanna put your mark on your spot?" you ask, holding out a green chalk for him to sign next to his car.

"Sure, if that's alright with you" he offers taking the chalk off you and kneeling down.

"Oh no, here have a knee pad. I don't want to be the reason your legs arent working next weekend!" you laugh, pushing the spare pad over to him that he changes his position.

"I can see why they invited you to come. This is brilliant" he smiles and you thank him again. You didn't expect him to stay while you finished up the next few cars that you were drawing and it the sun was starting to set by the time you were complete with the 10 cars. The F1 admin came out with a drone flying over and taking pictures of the work you'd done. You and your dad waved up at the drone from the shot as theyd brought him out to you.

"I'm sure ill see you in the paddock again" Fernando says before walking away and back to his motorhome. You share a confused look with your dad before a shurg of your shoulders.

Even if you didn't, this weekend was one you wouldn't forget ever.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[okavara]

Things I have done for CotV, in no particular order:

Read the entire Wikipedia page for Radomes all for a single mention of them in chapter 5

Handled raw venison in meal prep and sniffed it (smelled like blood and berries)

tasted soap to see what the hype is about (Dr.Kel what the fuck. I could feel it dissolving my mouth)

Reasearched antlers. Antlers. So much fucking antler knowledge

Antler growth cycles, antler shedding cycles, the appropriate times of the year for when Kelryptid's antlers would complete growing (he is late in the season, it would be early fall but he's a late fall baby because he's a supernatural baby) and when they will fall off (late winter)

Studied every minute I had acrylic nails on to understand the ergonomics of having lengthened claws/nails (it's not as hard to adjust to as I thought)

Figured out how to make predator clicks with a human voice

Did two full playthroughs of VotV, getting myself into Dr.Kel's headspace

One of which I wrote down his thoughts every day, cataloguing the events and encounters I had in my own personalized playthrough, thus crafting his backstory for CotV in days 1-43 (WHICH I WILL WRITE A PREQUEL ABOUT)

Researched arirals. So much

scrawled over every scrap of info we have about ASO, Dunkeltaler, Dr.Kel, and made a mind library of it

Asked for advice from two people from Ireland to ask them about how to make references to Kel being Irish in good taste, figure out a county of origin for him, and get a better understanding of what his speech mannerisms/accent might be like (and also to make sure I don't write him too American lol) (Results from this btw: Headcanon he grew up in Cavan and moved to Dublin for University, and spent a lot of time online, making his accent a mix of Cavan, Dublin, and a sprinkle of American from the internet)

Listened to/watched several Irish youtubers from various counties to get a good mental image in my mind of general speech mannerisms/cadence for how Dr.Kel should talk

studied the spines of cats and their tails and how they move them to communicate emotion

Given myself lotsa caffeine to experience how shaky Kel would have been (very)

made an entire backstory for the ariral side characters that show up

Made up an entire idea of what's going on with ASO in the background (no spoilers yet)

Decorated an entire VotV base exactly how I imagine Kelryptid to have decorated his house, and then some

Hosted Q&A in character just so I can write him better and practice writing his character

And much, much more! Specifically these are things I have just done for the sake of studying CotV, however I also draw a lot from my life experience writing CotV. Spooky woods encounters and growing up rural helps give me a great idea of what running through the forest is like- I used to do it daily, growing up.

Fanfic writers, I wanna hear your stories about how you do your research for your fics.

I just took an entire physics course solely for this one fic I'm writing that only mentions physics in one paragraph.

[bodhiscurls]

packing it up. ( chef luca )

i'd love to complete you, hope that you get all that you ask for. cause i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's when you happened. (based on the gracie abrams song) chef luca meeting his match in the quiet little pastry chef (carmy's best friend) at the bear.

pairing: chef luca x pastry chef fem! reader (no use of yn)

themes: fluff, slight angst, more fluff (very soft and slow paced and just cute like luca) mentions of insecurity and not feeling enough.

word count: idk but its fucking wham

luca doesn't know if you yourself would ever class the two of you as friends. he acts with his heart who tells him that you're the love of his life, and also with his mind that whispers to him that you've barely spoken a word to him outside of the restaurant even though its been a few months since he's taken a liking to chicago.

you're one of carmen berzatto's friends which surprised him at first. the renowned chef matched his chaos with his brazen choice of friends that all shared familiar quirks. however you preferred to linger in the back. you didn't laugh too loudly or obnoxiously, you didn't spin jokes to grab attention even at the expense of others. what surprised him the most was that you hadn't cursed infront of him once- working in fast paced places with egos running the expo, it was normal to hear a violet stream of words but around you, everything was softer- gentler, as if the air and the world bent and moulded around your being.

he remembers the first time he saw you. carmen had asked if he could step in as a pastry chef to help the shortfall. when he walked into the kitchen of the bear expecting to find carmy he found you: staring up at him with an inquisitive tilt. there was no snarky sharpness, no edge sizing him up, just rounded curious eyes that stumped him for a moment. and for the first time in a long while, it was refreshing to be looked at nothing more than a human.

"and who are you?" you asked slowly, not because it was calculated or measured but because that was how the natural drawl of your words landed. he detected a hint of a northern accent that whispers a little too like home warming his blood. a smile tugged at his lips- one that he failed miserably to rein in in fear of coming on too strong but you just made it so easy for him to just exist.

"luca," another grin and a boyish blush at the fact that you did not know who he was or his entire culinary achievements and experience by heart. though for a second, he wished you did. maybe it would've impressed you somehow, given him a stepping stone into your good graces. but by the slow nod and dimpled smile flashed his way, god he would have never needed it. his brain photographed that very moment the earth bent to your will and hangs it portrait in his head in the areas where thoughts of you have stretched and taken up free residence.

he got to know you in the small moments. at four am to the sounds of a soft tune of billy joel hummed through the chill kitchen air that then drowned out to the boil of the kettle for your favourite peppermint tea. "for the morning breath" you once joked and it still brings a grin to his lips anytime he sees it.

at the sound of lindt wrappers crunching in their foil where you've cleaned out the entire box of white chocolate in days where you need the extra comfort. he now keeps a spare box for emergencies in the top cupboard for the tough times you'll need it.

at the disapproving sigh you sent his way at the remenants of flour spilled when luca had rushed to hit a timer, he learns that you hate mess more than you hate carmy's mother- who he learns in return also hates you back. its also why he spent an extra hour cleaning his station sparkling clean whilst prying into carmen about your past and friendship.

you told him little bits yourself anyways, you grew up with carmy and both left to pursue culinary education outside the prison walls of chicago- you trained in edinburgh, hopped from establishment to establishment within the UK, earning your first michelin at 25. and somehow, by the grace of carmen fucking berzatto you found yourself back in chicago- a place you swore you'd never return.

"i feel shitty, i brought her back here to this bag of ass," carmen once told him that night as luca scrubbed till his fingers bled with soap suds. "she's got a fuckin' star twice! the fuck she need this place for, i tried to fire her but the smartass brought up some employment law or somethin' i don't know," he chuckles. and at the brazen words spoken, the smile of fondness from carmy is hard to miss. its all luca needs to know that you're someone who holds such high value to carmen's life and for someone who's stayed that long, loyalty runs deep.

"why you askin?" carmy cuts him off and luca doesn't show his hesitation, he just continues cleaning his station. "matter of fact, why the fuck you still here? go home, chef. tomorrow starts in a two hours we need you."

tomorrow comes with a satisfied hum as your fingers run along the sparkling counter "you did such a good job" you smile. and luca's heart stutters violently, he wonders what those fingers would look like running through his hair, at his jaw and down his chest. what those words would feel like under him in the middle of the night in the embrace of your home.

"luca?" you break free his train of you, smile wobbling at the edges. "you okay?"

"yeah," he clears his throat, "yes, chef" he confirms, remembering the sanctity of the kitchen and his responsibility here, to you. and you nod, not entirely believing him but not exactly prying further. instead you place a hand on your heart to tell him i'm here if you need the time.

and you carry on. you both direct, you fire, you shout for hands multiple times and when you don't get the help you need, it's the first time he sees you lose control.

"christ," you mumble in agitation, "walking now," and you wipe your hands quickly, taking the dish out the door.

the entire back of house halts at your disappearing frame. it's absolute silence as they watch your back, the lingering looks from carmy and syd- the hostile exchange shared between stares and unspoken words until multiple beepers go off like sirens in the distance. the chaos of the kitchen returns and in the midst of shouts at the expo, luca still watches the door waiting for your return.

it takes a moment longer than needed but you present at the table, you walk the elder woman through her dish, laughing as she counteracts your storytelling with her own memories before bidding her a goodnight and heading back to your station. your heart races slightly as you enter the doors again with a violent push and the kitchen comes to a standstill once more.

"chef?" carmen is the first to break the silence. "need a moment?" he carefully treads and the familiarity in his stance gives luca the impression that this is not the first time you've left the kitchen at your own orders nor will it be the last time.

"no, chef" you level, "what i need is hands when i ask for them," you glance across all the staff and make your way back to your table. the hustle and bustle of culinary masterpieces continue but in the midst of the chaos, luca can hear the tiny exhale that escapes from your lips.

"chef?" he quietly asks, trying to find your gaze and when its painstakingly obvious you're avoiding eye contact with him, he pushes just a little further. "peppermint," he tries your nickname and you glance up, nothing in your expression. there's a delicate layer of softness still in your chocolate eyes that alleviates some worry from him and you nod.

"thanks, chef," you whisper and he nods, you both continue in silence, working in that familiar routine again finding your balance.

luca decides that no matter the storm or chaos, he'll always find you to bring you back to the surface.

the night ends with a silent success. they had overbooked but call it a champagne problem, guests were satisfied, the kitchen was highly complimented and everyone was exhausted. signs of a well oiled machine at work.

luca catches your frame just in time to see you leaving. your tote is arched onto your shoulder as a thick knitted scarf is knotted around your neck under the giant black puffer zipped up. he watches at you place a hand on carmy's shoulder in comfort before he places a kiss to your hair when he wraps you in a hug. its rare to see affection from carmen but luca calm his jealousy with a objective analysis instead; there's something about the two of you that he can't pinpoint as lovers- maybe long lost siblings is the furthest he'd go.

because if luca was your lover, he'd take the train (even if it stretched an extra half hour to his commute) with his hand firmly gripped on your waist not only for protection and to have you in sight but because there's nowhere on earth he'd want you to be unless glued at his side. he'd have your tote perched on his shoulder baring the weight of your world and free hand in yours, holding both your hearts close in every step. he'd walk you to the door, leaning into your embrace and kiss you right on the lips for the world to see. there would be nothing friendly in the fire he's willing to burn, he'd scoop you in his arms to take you inside.

he'd do it every single day of his life if you'd want him to, if you gave him any inclination that you'd want him too.

but instead he takes the train with you, sat with an inch gap of respectability and boundaries. he walks by your side, hands swinging itching under the cold to hold yours but keeps them at bay. he walks you to your door, shoulder bumps yours with a soft nudge goodbye and doesn't leave until he's seen you click the door shut and at the sound of the locks turning too.

he turns with a heavy heart and sigh as he makes his own way home, leaving his feelings in the chill of the chicago air where no one but him knows how he feels about you.

carmen berzatto absolutely knows how luca feels about you.

its in the way luca sat on his stool at your station, brows furrowed chasing the clock and then the door where he expects to see your frame. its in the glare where your name isn't clocked in and focuses its way onto carmen when he delivers the debrief for the morning.

"last night, we had an unexpected guest," carmen starts and the room stills. he throws a newspaper article down onto the table for all the see, pointing at their establishment printed on the crisp white paper. "she came in unrecognised, unattended, waited for a table and her food was almost delayed," the word almost is delivered with a slight twitch of his eye. "we were so focused on who might the critic delivering us a star might be that we almost missed one just equally as important," carmen stresses the words with pointed agitation.

"we need to be better chefs, every person who comes through that door gets royal treatment or nothing. do not make it nothing," his voice is so crisp and lethal that even richie himself cannot find a joke to lighten the air. "luckily, one of our chefs noticed something suspicious and had her meal out without delay, saving us from another embarassment. not that we have a shortage of those," he bitterly chuckles. sydney shoots him a pointed glare and cuts him off.

"chefs we work together," she softly reprimands. where carmen is burning fire, sydney is all about calming waters for the team, "this does not work unless we all do. let's listen, let's grow, let's make this thing happen. understood?"

a chorus of "yes chef" litters the air but luca can't find it in him to focus not when he has no idea where you are. he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check for the millionth time but still no sign of you; no return of his thousand voicemails.

carmen and sydney are already on their way to the office when he stops them abruptly.

"yes chef?" carmen asks, brows raised at lucas large frame blocking the door.

"she's not in, hasn't been in since last night, uh," he stumbles, "where is she?" sydney elbows carmen who fights back the lazy smirk working its way up on to his features.

"day off," he shrugs and makes his way into the office.

"day off?" his echo sounds outrageous, you've never taken a day off in the months he's worked here. its like clockwork, when you start, how you work, when you leave, when you work with him. its never been nothing but routine and luca cannot wrap his head around the missing puzzle piece.

"is there a problem?" carmen asks and syd shifts her gaze between the two of them, trying to detect any underlying feelings.

"no, chef." luca returns and makes his way back to his station. its cold, practised and rehearsed how he lives today, reminding him for the first time in a long time of how lonely working in a restaurant can feel. he hasn't felt this way before he moved to copanhagen to escape the stitled atmosphere of his former restaurant. he glances over and is met with your absence again, the clean slate of your station. eerily untouched, not like its been lived in before in your presence. it unsettles him, when he looks over youre not there as his equal; he's struggling alone and he's lonely.

he finishes up his shift with exhaustion heavily laced through his bones, his jokes falling flat with marcus and sydney and not bothering to wish carmen goodnight. he grabs his things swiftly and stares back at your station longingly as if he'd look hard enough, you'd somehow just appear and make it right for him again.

it's two am and he takes the long way home, the nerves and sheer dire need to see you keeping him awake whilst the city of chicago sleeps before him.

the knock that lands at your door is tentative. it almost doesn't land but it does and you pause the music playing through your apartment. the sweet sounds of "cherry wine" by hozier stopping gently in the breeze as you check the time.

it's late, you think. too late for anyone you know to be here. with a butter knife in your hand you reach for the door slowly and pull back just an inch. crystal blue eyes pierce your soul and you immediately pull back the door to its full length.

"peppermint," he breathes before the door is even properly open, the second he's gotten a glimpse. like he's sucking your being in, memorising the way you exist as if you've been lovers deserted by war.

you don't answer at once, instead you blink. you stand there for what feels like forever as he takes you in. your curly hair is throws up into a high bun at the top of your head, static frizz curling at the edges as a few tendrils escape the makeshift mess. sleep is etched into your features and he guesses that you've probably spent today napping and making up the sleep you've missed from the last decade of your life. you're dressed in a matching plaid set of pyjamas, the buttons opening with the wind working its way between you and he is hit with the flash of your skin peeking out.

he's never seen this version of you, so relaxed yet so poised, so perfectly you. like being out of the pressure of the restaurant has lifted a thousand kilos off your body. you're glowing, he marvels just when he thought you couldn't possibly get any more beautiful.

"luca," its not exactly a question or a greeting, you're unsure of what's going on entirely and-

"you didn't show today," he cuts off your train of thought and nods to himself, a small smile of relief playing on his lips knowing that you're okay and you're safe.

"i had the day off," you cross your arms and lean on the wooden door frame, staring back at him. in this light, his blonde hair looks a shade too brown, his skin casts shadows of the night under his ocean eyes. "did you want to come in?" you ask, small.

for a moment he thinks he should be smarter than this. it's late and he's never even been inside your apartment before and the feelings he feels that are too large and too big for his body do not need to explode right now when you look far too peaceful in your home. he's also got the early shift and needs to be back at the bear in the next few hours, only this time he hopes you'll be there with him. and yet, he finds himself waiting, lingering with a soft and gentle

"please" its like he's scared to let it sit there to long, and you nod with a smile, waiting to the side till he's standing in your small walkway and shut the door with a thud, locking it twice.

the smell of vanilla hits him instantly at first, a deep velvet layer entangled with the sweetness of strawberries. they dance along with notes of sugar and butter and it just feels so right, he thinks.

wordlessly you help him shrug out of his outer layers, hanging them on your rail as he stands there suddenly shy, aware of all your space he is currently taken up. you don't say anything just motion for him to follow you through the dimly lit apartment into your kitchen- all the lights are off save for a small lamp at your workstation. sometime between when he arrived and to now standing at your kitchen worktop, the gentle rush of music has started again. guitar chords strumming along to the beat of his heart as he stands by your side.

you go back to placing the strawberries so delicately on top of the shortcake pastry on a layer of fresh cream and luca salivates at the sight of it. its such a basic dish compared to what the two of you create in the kitchen of the bear that it softens something in him to see something so simple yet divine.

"strawberry shortcake?" he asks from behind you, he's so close in proximity that you can feel his warm breath pinched from his british accent tickle your neck. his hands come to hold the edges of the surface and they gently hold you in an embrace you can escape easily. he's there in your space but still waiting for your indication. you turn slightly to face him and upclose he can see the specks of flour that dust your cheekbones; a layer of snow over the natural rosy blush tinting your face.

you pick up a small piece that you weren't going to plate and reach it up to his lips, nodding in encouragement. he savours the taste of it, flavour and sweetness exploding on his tongue. he's messy with it and his tongue accidentally swipes alongside the finger you feed him with and you pull away slowly, acting as if the touch hasn't burned something new inside of you.

"i make it every year for my birthday," you whisper and recognition hits him fast. he pulls apart slowly in disbelief and a million curses flow through his mind.

"i didn't know it was your birthday," he admits bashfully, staring at his feet unsure. you smile at him softly.

"it's okay, lucky," the nickname slips out so easily and he melts, "no one really does, except carm of course. i'd rather spend today at the bear but he insists on taking the day off," you share, carefully shifting your focus back to your dessert.

"why would you spend it at the bear?" his brows wrinkle in confusion. i mean sure he loves the place and he loves carm but the bear? on your birthday?

"i don't really have anyone," you feel so small and shy right now but something about luca wants you to bare your whole soul out for him to see, "the bear is where all my family is," and you swallow the lump of vulnerability settling in the air.

luca inhales and takes a step closer to you, he picks up the knife from your grasp and plants it down on the desktop surface before holding your hands in his and god they feel so warm and so damn soft.

"i uh," he starts, meeting your gaze and continuing seeing your nods of encouragement. "i'd like to be there for you if you'd let me."

your smile widens and in the soft light of your kitchen you lean your head onto his chest. he holds you in his big arms, swaying the two of you back and forth as the hums of hozier fill the apartment air. it feels like heaven, such peace that luca's sure he hasn't felt this way about anyone before and it feels like a weighted blanket covering his soul.

"can i ask you something?"

"anything," you breathe and look up to him, its a strain on your neck but you manage.

"how did you know about the critic yesterday?"

"oh," you shove your head into his chest with a groan and he's confused, he chuckles at the force you've hit him with and places his fingers under your chin to bring you back to his planet. "she's an old mentor back from scotland, i thought i'd escape her but here she is haunting me all over," you mumble. "i couldn't possibly give her something else to lecture me about, god knows ive heard years of it." and luca laughs, he understands completely more than anyone what it means to do your best and still be knocked down. living on a scale that only gets larger and each movement doesn't feel as big as it does in your head.

"well angry old ladies aside, you really saved our ass, she was very nice about you," he whispers into your hair.

"really?" your voice is tiny and he softens, wrapping his fingers around some of your free tendrils, tugging on them slowly.

"yes really," he swears and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"i feel like i've been in this business long enough to stop looking for validation but sometimes oh god it gets me luca, it makes me lose control it makes me nasty like ive been lifted from the ground and god," you sputter with a shiver, "i hate being that way."

"i understand," he softly shares, "and sometimes i feel like i'll never outrun that young boy who was never enough in those big scary kitchens. its mainly why i came to help out carm, change of scenery, change of boss, change of everything."

"i thought the same but it wasn't carm or the bear or being around family again after so long," you lean up on your tip toes, lips inches away from each other. "it was you, who kept me grounded, kept me smiling, kept me from feeling like the world was spinning too far for me to keep up-"

he lets you finish barely before pressing his lips into yours and its soft, its slow, its deep, its filled with the months of longing stares and passion. its filled with the capacity of love he knows he can give and you will return tenfold. its filled with chaos in the kitchen and of these moments in the quiet of the night.

he can taste the strawberry on your tongue and groans against you before you break apart. there's a rosy dust coating your cheeks and tinting the tips of your ears.

"wow," you squeak and his chest rumbles in loud laughter, shaking you in the vibrations of his embrace. "stay the night?" you ask, leaning up to him again.

"always," he promises.

note: if you made it this far ugh i wish i included more of his tats, next time fo sho. hope you liked this, let me know! first time writing for chef luca ahh how exciting i hope i did him justice <3

[bewitched-hours]

Hi again, i came back with anothe request after school, i hope you dont mind but this is probably based on my experience but this is also gonna feature two of my favs. which is...

SecondChance (two time and chance) x GN! Reader!

where the three of them go to a arcade to win some prizes, mostly stuffed plushies on claw machines, as the reader really wants to bring so many badly home, but always keeps losing. While Chance helps them with his "luck" while two time secretly steals the keys to the machines and takes the plushies while not being suspicious at all.

and in the end, they all win a lot and going home while the people around them are flabbergasted, or surpised or jealous.

this was based on one of my visits to the mall with my fam while winning nothing and wasting tokens while a i saw i think a couple win a bunch by luck, Im telling you i hate how rigged claw machines are😭

Anways ty!

Ohohoho~ Something new for Moi~? Also, I can relate- Claw machines are the devil's work and it was the first time that I realized capitalism sucked when I was a kid- ALSO Also- Let's forget about the Spawn cult for this... (But Two Time is still crazy in a way-)

Reader gets They/Them~

You've never thought yourself to be the type to enjoy arcades.

They're loud, bright and usually stink from how many people roam them in the summers.

But when you've got partners like Two Time and Chance? There was never a boring moment and you'd find yourself finding enjoyment in things you've never even considered... Like arcades!

It all started out as a normal date by the beach. Chance was giddy to see you in the swimwear he got you just a few days prior in anticipation for the strong heat dragging the three of you to the open. Two Time just liked the idea of getting to antagonize the seagulls with ice cream but they loved the look of the swimwear on you as well.

Although, there was a little arcade by the beach this time. And Chance- being the gambling addict he was- dragged you both in with little protest.

Surprisingly, you've found yourself getting trapped in the thrill of the claw machines when you saw a plushie you liked. And then another... And another... And-

By the time you were out of coins, you hadn't won a single plushie and you didn't need any words for Chance and Two Time to know you were seething.

Chance used this as an opportunity to try and spoil you. "Now now, [Reader], I'll get you those plushies in the blink of an eye!" He was practically giddy at the thought of using his 'luck' to hopefully impress you.

All the while neither of you noticed Two Time sneaking off and stealing the keys to the machines from a sleeping employee. They weren't really trying to hide it but they did avoid the employees noticing and bystanders didn't really care.

Although Chance did get a couple, Two Time really surprised you with a horde of Plushies and although you were upset that they stole them, you were much happier with the fact that they both cared so much.

And with onlookers looking flabbergasted, surprised and even jealous, you happily clung to your partners and were in a fit of laughter as Two Time recounted how they got ahold of the keys.

"That poor dude is so getting fired!" You exclaimed through your joy with Two Time giggling along and Chance trying to keep his composure but failing.

The rest of the day was spent with you and Chance playing around in the water and Two Time staying in the shade and preparing some armbands for all three of you. Overall a pretty good day...

And the next would be spent with Two Time having to take care of you both because you got sick-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[steelthroat]

Okay i feel the need to add non idw Shockwave shenanigans:

Transformers animated:

Spent centuries cosplaying a young autobot while being a double agent (him. Who was older than most autobots in all of autobot society)

When almost found out the first time he manipulated everyone into incarcerating and torturing the wrong guy and made him go completely crazy.

When almost found out the second time he made a cube out of his underling and made another underling throw him in the trash

When shit went crazy he attacked one of the most powerful autobots and left him comatose/almost dead/very dead (this guy was Megatron’s rival before op)

Brainwashing is his hobby

Semi-reverse brainwashing was also a thing

Petty beef with a collegue

Looks like a weird eldrich-horror-deer thing and has a british accent

G1 cartoon Shockwave:

Misogynistic

British

Got ghosted for 4 million years

Left on his home planet handling resources while his and the rival faction play in the sandbox on earth

Most of the soacebridges meant to reach cybertron explode in most episodes

In another timeline, he survived Unicron's attack on Cybertron. He formed a friendship with a guy and the two resolved to conquer the world of business and entertainment via shadowy corporate dealings and pop music to help his boss.

Wfc:+aligned as a whole

Jurassic park is his passion, but the dinosaurs turn into guys who hate him

Traumatized his test subjects so badly they formed an underclass of Cybertronians who didn't even remember their names and were... not in good shape.

Made guys who combine into a bigger guy

Experimented drugs on his collegues

Experimetned on a demigod

Meddling with sharkticons and insecticons is his passion

Transformers Prime:

Jurassic park is his passion

Oh shit my dinosaur got killed

Oh shit my dinosaur is alive

"Oh shit my extinct beast turns into a grown ass men who feels lonely"

Oh shit my boss thinks my dinosaurs are too dangerous and wants me to destroy all of my project. Wow. Milliennia of experiments and research gone and I simply say "oke"

Almost half-blinds his colleague after he tried to leave him alone while autobots attacked (again). Doesn't do it because the excuse received was logical

The only time he ever acts kind is when he speaks with another nerd who was also his prisoner

Almost gets killed by the undead dinosaurs

Makes fun of a disabled guy

Skybound:

Mhhhh whale smoothie yummy

Traumatized a guy so badly he stops mid epic entrance and runs away

[Idk i haven't read more I'm sure he did more]

Netflix war for cybertron trilogy:

I think he has a problem with ultra magnus, because guess what... he tortures him here too. Damn. Save this guy from Shockwave please

Made a virus that fucked up his planet and everyone told him it was a bad idea/last resort. Did it anyway.

Harvested his own decepticons

He could technically still be alive. Which is scarier.

Bayverse:

Has got a giant worm

Blargh blurgh blor blorg

active in a battle during the 1560s, where his exploits were recorded in a painting. He later participated in World War I around 1917, where his silhouette had been used on a war poster(gotten from the wiki i didn't remember this lol)

Cyberverse:

Tried to manipulate an amnesiac guy and fails

Microaggression against seekers where he says "ofc you failed your kind is dumb as fuck"

Experiments on other mechs ofc

Made a guy uncomfortable with his staring

Dance dance revolution

He participated on a twitch stream

Scared another guy when he appeared to him as a vision/ghost

Marvel:

Oh god this is one of my faves, he's done too much unhinged shit I'll make another reblog later but ooooh boy he was crazy crazy

2019 idw:

I don't remember much, but you can add your propaganda here

PROPAGANDA

Shocwave:

He didn't have a doctorate but he WAS a senator from cybertron. In the G1 iteration he was the "logical scientist that built super weapons" archetype, in Transformers: Prime he built a spacebridge AND he used old cybertronian fossils to make a dragon (straight up copied from Jurassic Park) and in the comics he gets up to so much shit that the mere mention of a bench sends his fan into a conniption. He's also purple!

There are so many different versions of this freak, it's crazy! In one universe he's just some guy. In another he's a rebel leader. Maybe he's a petty criminal with a love for cackling. Or maybe he's an artificial god who built his own temple. I mean, what if he had a huge building-eating pet worm? It's not that different from the one time he brought back extinct dragon robots for his clone army. Does a double-crossing secret spy sound interesting? Y'know he was once a robot rights activist. Usually he's a terrorist but what do you do when your lab is filled with things that are massively illegal? A Shockwave for everything you could want

I have the most knowledge of TFP, so that what I'll use. Anyway, he invented the cortical psychic patch, which basically allows one to enter another's mind, and it's used in some dubious ways by several people, but Shockwave uses it the most brutally. He also cloned an extinct species of transformer, using just small amounts of bones. He also has a massive monoboob, and replaced one of his hands with a cannon, meaning he did all of the unethical scientific work with a good third of his vision obscured and with one hand.

Carlos Dave Robles:

Perfect hair. Gay. We love to see it

[tang1blechaos]

Obsessive!murderer!Abby x reader i would say ghost face but there's not really any ghostface mention she just is ghostface.

LONG! also I have not written in a long long time and its not fully proofread so be gentle x

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!!!

Warnings: it's dark and kind of heavy, so please be conscious when reading. I am not promoting murder, I am just exploring the mind of a horny, validly misandrist lesbian murderer.

porn with so much plot murder, talks of hospitals, misandry, lesbian smut, mentally unstable Abby, desperate! subtop! Abby, sooo many l-bombs, fingering, oral, strap - referred to as cock/dick, scissoring sex, cannabis, reader experiences misogynoir from her adoptive brother - nothing physical or graphic but he does threaten her life and call her a statistic (dw reader is avenged)!!

Abby in scream AU. Set in Woodsboro, Abby and reader are above 22

⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧

Abby couldn't take it. Every night in her mind's eye this stupid fucking dream had her waking in night sweats. The dream is equal parts gruesome and heated, lusty and frightful. In her groggy state, Abby can still smell the sharp scent of sex and blood in the room.

Of course, she finds the recent murders in her town distressing. Woodsboro hadn't seen this kind of activity in ten years, and since then, it's been a haven. But she can't control her mind. She sees you there, lying in bed with your hand between your thighs, wanton moans flooding from your lips.

The only thing between you and her is your asshole adoptive brother. He made your life a living hell, and you, you are all sunshine and cool like a spring day. Abby doesn't dream in colour. To Abby, Damon is the dark smothering your light, and she needs to stop him before he tries to snuff you out.

The kill is easy in her dream, like a knife through butter and warm. Your brother gurgling on death like an angel's choir in her sleep. Abby saunters toward you, wiping her hand on the sheets and trailing it down, down, down, playing with the hem of your panties.

She knows the dream is bad. She knows it's indicative of her shadow self returning, but she can't bring herself to report it. Her parents were finally happy; they were easing up on her and treating her like an adult. She didn't want to be back in hospitals - wires running through her, the headache and white light in her eyes, the sedation, the quiet.

Abby shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. She lies awake, her sheets strewn across her. Her room is cool and still, silver streaming in through her lace curtains, casting sharp shadows on the walls. The moonlight is enough to make out the etchings on the bookcase beside her head.

Five. The tally marks were harsh and messy as if they were done in a rush. Abby's been sleepwalking again; the only thing that could explain the pains in her body, the scratches and bruises on her back, arms and legs. Abby hopes to god all she's been doing is running and tripping through the woods, although deep down she knows something is terribly wrong.

Her therapist says the sleepwalking is her way of dealing with stress.

When her father threatened to leave her mother, Abby slashed his tires in her sleep. Of course, Abby swore she was innocent because she was. But when her father woke the next evening to his little Abby staring at him with stony eyes he had never seen before and a small blade in her little hands, her parents understood they had a bigger problem. Abby's stress was manifesting through violence.

The ninth year of her life was spent in hospitals doing sleep tests. Trying to understand who woke up in the middle of the night. Who wore her skin and destroyed her things, lied and deceived.

It was incredible, the doctors had said. An entire alter ego developed when in distress. Abby's sleep self would lash harsh truths at her parents, claw at doctors and rip needles from her arms to stab nurses. All while in her wakeful state, she was docile, shy, and mildly sunny. Both sides of her are intelligent, secretive, and protective of herself, but Abby's shadow self moved more violently.

A year later, she was home with medical-grade sleeping pills, bi-weekly psychiatrist visits, and her parents had stopped fighting. That year forced them to confront their marriage issues and prioritise Abby.

Her blue eyes hardened at the tally on her bedside shelf. There have been five murders in Woodsboro so far. Abby shook her head. She had been a little violent when she was young, but that doesn't make her a murderer.

Still, even if she was. All the murders in town have been men, men who beat their wives, and steal and abuse women. Men who were known for getting away with bad things. Would it be so bad if she was the killer?

Abby would only be protecting all the innocent women around her. Mrs. Ebbs would probably thank her for getting rid of Ronny. Abby's breath hitches as she feels the ghost of the older woman's lips on her neck. The whisper of gratitude in her ear as a hand ghosts over her chest.

That's all she was doing with you. The dream was just her mind trying to take control of a stressful situation. Abby cared about you, and she hated seeing your brother bully you. That's all this is; she just wants to protect you.

Abby was sure you'd thank her too. She hoped you would let her kiss down your throat, grip your soft thighs and squeeze. Abby whines at the thought of your tits in her mouth, her hips bucking up when she imagines your breathy moans as she slips her fingers into your panties.

"Fuck," Abby groans as she rubs her fingers on her clit. The thought of your thighs clamping around her arm. Her fingers kneading softly inside you - god you're probably so fucking soft. Abby huffs, imagining you moaning her name, kissing her neck and whining in her ear.

"God, I need to come, please come with me," Abby mewls into the air, her hips bucking desperately as she gets closer to the edge, her eyes straining, even shut, she can see your breasts spilling out of your bikini top. "Fuck," she groans into the air and sighs deeply into her pillow.

Abby rolls over, taking advantage of the quiet in her brain and slips into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, she's sitting in the park with you, a picnic laid out, soft music billowing from a speaker. Abby is beautiful in the sunlight. Her hair glows gold and her freckles are sprinkled so generously across her face, dotting her soft lips. You want to lean forward and press a kiss to her mouth. Instead you say,

"I painted something again the other day, and uno," you smirk as Abby looks over her cards thoughtfully.

"Can I see it? Pick up two,"

"Asshole, yes. Yes, you can see it. It's actually for you." You smile, putting your cards down and rifling through your backpack for the soft canvas scroll. Abby sets her cards down and sits up straight.

You unfurl the scroll and reveal Abby's face painted in a constellation. Her eyes soften, and her mouth drops slightly.

"Hey," she mumbles, tears welling in her eyes. She takes your hand and then the painting to examine it. "You're so talented," she says.

"It's easy when my muse is this beautiful," you whisper. Abby watches you bite your lip and wants to thumb it from between your teeth and taste it.

"Thank you," she whispers, kissing your cheek and putting the scroll in her satchel. "You're so welcome," you pull back, and this always happens. Abby's face is so close to yours. You want to lean up and kiss her mouth, cup her cheeks and tell her - "I love you, I really love you,"

You sit back and pick up your cards, and take a deep breath. Abby's eyes travel over you like she's hungry. "Are you still seeing that girl - Mary-louise?" you ask.

Abby scoffs and shakes her head. "Mary-lousie is fucking crazy,"

"Then why did you go out with her?" you laugh. Abby rolls her eyes.

"We didn't, she sent me like 600 messages in two days so I blocked her," Abby laughed as your jaw dropped.

"Well, I'm kind of glad, I was starting to get jealous," you tease, although you know you shouldn't. Deep down, you just wanted to know if there was a chance she wanted you in the same way.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, no one compares to you," She smiles, taking your hand and kissing the palm of it softly, placing it on her cheek.

⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.°⛧⛧°.⋆༺♱༻⋆.

Abby loves spring; the revival from death in the seasons translates to warmer days with cool air. The wind stirs enough for the perfect music of trees, and of course, the excuse of easter weekend meant going away with you to her family's old cabin.

Neither you nor Abby particularly enjoyed the holidays. It was bittersweet for you to come together each year with a family you'd grown up trying to love and who only tolerated you in return.

Your parents, bless them, had tried their best to integrate you. They loved you, but they didn't think it through, adopting an African child to "heal" their racist family. Their ten-year stint in Limpopo bore you, but when your mother's father asked her to take over the company, there was no saying no. They'd since stopped trying to co-opt spiritual movements as allyship, but the adoption papers were signed, and they were in love.

Damon, their first son by three years, was at first quite pleased. You and Damon were close until you all moved back to America, and he started going to school at Whitmore. High school had torn you apart as you learnt about your roots. History class became your stomping ground. Damon, on the other hand, never wanted to face his political reality or "hear women talk about their periods".

You never could get him to pick up a book, and with every hangout with his new friends, the deeper he integrated into their high-society mentalities. He'd become your own personal bully, and an incel of his own making.

Your family at large were, well, much aligned with Damon's thinking. So, no, your parents did not force you to spend any holidays with them.

Abby didn't have any family outside of her parents, none that they actually spoke to. While they loved Abby, they also started to "date" again when Abby got better. This year, they were going to Easter Island for Easter weekend. Her father had made jokes about it all the way to the airport, where she dropped them off.

Finally, it was Thursday. Abby drove up to the cabin ahead of you to prepare it for the weekend, and unfortunately, your brother would drop you off because he wanted the car for the weekend.

Abby had stoked the fire because it got cold early in the woods. She burnt incense and lit a joint. Her shoulders finally relaxed as she exhaled. She's brought her steak to a low heat and was prepping dinner when her phone pinged.

"I hate Damon so fucking much," you had texted.

"I actually think he should be put down, I know he's my brother but incels are all YUCK."

Abby chuckles. She can see your dramatic frown and hear the passion in your tone. Although you hated him, Damon's actions don't hurt you as much as they used to; you didn't think you could rehabilitate him and trying wasn't worth the pain of failing every time.

Before Abby could ask for context, she could hear your truck engine rumbling and the tires crunching over the gravel in the driveway.

Abby ran outside to greet you, grabbing you up in her arms and holding you tight. She kissed your cheek and pulled back to nod at Damon.

"You two still haven't sealed the deal yet? What, no kissing? No scissoring?" he laughed and you rolled your eyes as he carried your bag to the door.

"I can take that in," Abby started after him,

"It's fine, alpha dyke," Damon mocks, "I have to take a leak," he skips into the house and dumping your bag on the living room floor. Abby muttered under her breath, stomping to your bedroom to put your bags down. You meet Abby in your room and stand in the threshold of the door.

"You can't let him get to you, Abs," you sigh. You can sense even the slightest tension in Abby, and as she stood in front of you, she was a brick wall.

"He cannot keep getting away with things like that." She huffs, you roll your eyes and shrug,

"I don't know he can get away with a lot -" you mutter, your eyes cast off dazed and dead.

"What does that mean?" Abby pulls you in, tries to catch your eye.

"Come out, freaks, I'm done." When Damon emerges from the bathroom, you and Abby meet him as he saunters down the stairs.

"I may or may not have shit on your floor," Damon laughs. It seems impossible, but Damon really is horrible. So, Abby pushes past him, taking the steps two at a time and you can't help the way your arm snaps forward, your open palm meeting his cheek hard.

"You fucking bitch, you know I bruise easily," Damon grips your upper arm, his teeth barred as he stares you down.

"Scared to say you got your shiner from a girl?" you grit, trying to pull your arm from his vice grip, but he pulls tighter.

"Listen, leech, I could make you disappear and no one would blink an eye. You're a statistic." He seethes.

Your smirk fades from your mouth, you'd never seen his eyes so void. He wasn't your brother anymore.

"No one would find your body," He whispered. Damon was a strange and suddenly terrifying white man.

"What did you just say?" Abby grunts from the top of the stairs.

"Stay out of this", Damon hisses, but Abby pulls Damon away from you and turns him, her other arm coming up to deck him in one fell swoop. Damon groans, falling to the ground clutching his eye, "you fucking bitch!" he cries out.

"You're on private property, now get out before I call the police."

Damon stands, fixing himself and spitting at Abby's shoe before rushing out the door. Abby blinks slowly, watching him move; he's not agile. Clumsy with his steps, he's not big either. She's mapping it out before she can stop herself. He'll be home alone tonight; Abby could check his socials for any activity, she could follow him while you sleep.

"Abby?"

Abby looked down at you and sighed. She blinked, and the thoughts were gone so quickly that she could barely remember them.

"I'm sorry, I spaced. How are you feeling? Does he say that shit often?"

You roll your neck and rest your forehead on her chest.

"It started like two weeks ago, like he's testing something out." You sigh, she can hear you sniffing, gripping tighter to her shirt.

"I've been looking for apartments near town,"

"What, do you really think he'd do something?" Abby can't hide the shock on her face; she holds you impossibly tighter and presses a kiss to your temple.

"I will never let him hurt you," she murmurs. It's a cliche sentiment, but Abby couldn't be more serious. You take a inhale and revel in the musk of Abby's scent, as she sways you gently from side to side.

"Distract me," you look up at her, Abby's hands press into your shoulders

"We could watch a movie? Smoke and eat some dinner?" She knows it's the right answer when your eyes roll back. She wants to see them roll back as she lowers herself down toward -

"I love you," you reply in awe, and Abby kisses your forehead distracted from the filth her mind wants to conjure up, "I love you, too. Go sit down,"

As you walk toward the living room, Abby has to steady herself on the kitchen counter. She's dizzy with your words, she's buzzing with anger. The combination makes her stomach turn heavy with butterflies. It's strange, and when she thinks about curing the earth of your brother, it's euphoric.

She swallows the feeling, knows it's dangerous, and yet she can't bring herself to feel guilty. Killing Damon would be a good thing; she would be protecting you. You would be safer in the world without him.

Abby's chest tenses, she grips the counter and tries to focus on dishing out food for you, but her mind is swimming with crimson anger and that sweet fucking lust. Abby's hips feel like a wind up toy waiting to be released. She takes a deep breath and centers herself.

When she brings your food out, Abby finds you curled in a blanket on the couch, your eyes light pink and low, a soft smile on your face.

"Hi Abs," you murmur as she sits down next to you,

"Hi baby, you feeling good?" abby smirks at your dopey smile, setting your food carefully in your lap.

"So good, god, this smells so good," you groan, moaning as you taste the food. Abby's laughing as she watches you indulge, the corners of your mouth turning sticky and brown with the beef sauce.

"I already want this weekend to last forever," you mutter, "If I didn't have to go home to Damon, I wouldn't be worried about anything else right now," you say, reaching for a glass of water.

"I mean, of course I would, but you know..." and Abby wants to listen, she does. But her mind is deaf to all else but this thought. You have given her permission. Her shadow self could exist as a service. To you, to women like you. She could make your lives so much better.

She can hear you prattling on about this movie, curls her arms around you and pulls you in, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your temple, and then your cheek. And all the while she can feel her hands warm and sticky with Damon's blood. You turn to her and press your forehead against hers.

"I love being here with you," You mumble, your lips are so close. It's Abby, steady, kind, sweet Abby. You didn't want to ruin a good thing. The only thing you had in this town.

Abby can't take it anymore, she was going to explode if she didn't do anything, so she finally, finally pressed her mouth to yours. She melted into you as she tasted your sweet lips. You whine at the taste of her, your hands reaching for her and fisting at her shirt, gripping her arms as Abby handled you into her lap.

"Abby," you whisper against her lips,

"I love you, I want this to be real, please I - I need you," she whines, nosing at your neck and placing soft kisses there.

"I love you Abs, I want you to be mine," you groan as her hands encourage your hips to move against her lap. "I am, I am yours. Always," Abby whines, finding your lips and kissing you again.

You tangle your hands in the base of Abby's braid and tug softly, experimentally and still Abby whimpers, her hips bucking up. Your lover's hands travel slowly to your ass, groping and squeezing it as her lips suckle at yours.

"Please, can I taste you, baby, please," Abby groans, laying you on the couch and reaching up under your dress to pull your panties down. You huff as her warm, soft hands trail up your thighs and between them. Abby leans up to kiss your mouth, her hands circling your tits and pinching at your nipples. You groan as she sucks on your tongue, you're dizzy as she's kissing down your throat, between your breasts and sucking desperately at your inner thighs.

"God, fuck you're leaking for me," Abby moans, shes swallowing drool, her nose bumping your clit as she licks at you shyly.

"Please, please let me eat your pussy," she groans and it dawns on you that your poor, sweet girl is begging for permission to ruin you.

"Yes, be a good girl and eat me baby," you groan and Abby whines into your pussy, suckling your clit into her mouth and lapping at your pussy. Her tongue going to dip at your hole and taste your sweet source. Abby's hips buck into the couch as she swallows you down. Her mouth is attentive to every part of your pussy.

Abby brings her fingers to gently circle your entrance, taking them up to rub up on either side of your clit as she sucks on it. And then she's stretching you, her thick finger curling as your hips jump.

"Oh fuck," you sigh and Abby is in awe of how soft and wet you are, how your pussy swallows her in and moulds against her finger.

"Your pussy's so needy baby," Abby rambles, spitting on your clit and brining her other fingers to rub on your clit. "i can feel you clenching on me honey, god you're so tight."

You whine at the lewd action and then she's smacking your clit and you can't help the way you're yelling and squirming under her as she adds a second finger, budging her shoulders between your thighs and keep you open.

"I know honey, just take it yeah? Can you take another finger baby? Can i stretch you out?" Abby whines kissing and making marks on your thigh. You're blubbering "yes" and "please", tugging at Abby's braid and fucking yourself on her fingers.

Abby is mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching and your perfect ass pressing up against her forearm as you do so. Your skin is getting dewy and she needs to see you fucking naked and writhing in her bed.

"I need to come honey, I'll make you feel so good later but right now I need to see you come okay?" Abby pleads, her fingers inching down to the knuckles and your legs squeeze around her shoulders. Feeling the tips of her fingers on your g-spot as she smacked your clit knocked the wind out of you.

You're gasping for air and for her and for more. Until you're undone, body possessed by pleasure under her touch. Abby doesn't let up until you're whimpering and tapping her arm.

"Too much," you whimper and Abby gently withdraws, scooping you up into her arms and rubbing her hands gently over your body.

"I want to - I just," You sigh into Abby's chest and god does she want to continue, but she had business to attend to.

"I know baby," she cooes in your ear, kissing your temple, "just go to sleep, s'okay," and you do, dosing off in her arms, the sound of the crackling fire accompanying you into deep sleep.

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Abby parked a street down in an alley before your house. She knows from your find my family that Damon is in fact at home. She knows he'll be drunk out of mind and his delirious fear would make this sweet.

The street is quiet, Abby slinks against the walls until she passes the broken streetlamp in front of your house. She could see the TV glowing blue through the front windows, and a shadow of Damon asleep on the couch.

The door is unlocked, she thanks whatever devil made Damon for his stupidity. Abby's steps are light as a feather as she encroaches on her prey, Damon seems sound asleep as she circles to face him. Her only regret about this kill would be the lack of torture before death. Alas this needed to be a robbery, and Abby's alibi only kept her in the clear for a few hours.

Abby unsheathes her blade and takes a deep breath, memorizing the way Damon breaths, his shit bleach job, the beer bottle he'd let spill on the couch. She thinks about how many times he'd made you cry. Thinks about what he said to you, about the permission you'd given her. She served as the hand of the angel of death. Abby's sure if he hadn't hurt someone already, this would stop him from every trying.

She places a gloved hand over Damon's mouth and nose. Places her knee over him and readys her knife at his abdomen. When he wakes from the lack of air, Damon is trashing and clawing at Abby's arms. His eyes widen when they adjust to see her.

She can see the way his eyes sink in disbelief, and then how they light up with fear. She can't hear him, but she's sure he's begging for his life, promising to be good.

"You are inconsequential," Abby shoves her knife into Damon's gut. "The only time you'll ever be mentioned again," she laughs against his struggling, stabbing him once more. "Is when someone wants to note a remarkable failure."

Abby stabs him again, she can feel his body loosening, can see his eyes going dull.

"You are nothing." Abby huffs, removing her knife when she's sure he's gone. She looks at Damon, the gashes are gnarly and they fill her with pride, Woodsboro has been scoured, washed clean and made new again with fresh blood. This was a new start for you. God, you would be so relieved and Abby has to contain her excitement, she cannot let you know.

Abby reveled in the sight once more, before ransacking your home, picking up gold pieces she'd admired. Saving your mother's most expensive pieces and once she's satisfied her work mirrors a burglary, she skulks out onto the street. She closes the door behind her, no one needed to know this weekend.

When she gets to her car, her heart is beating out of her chest. She checked every street twice and stayed mostly in the dark. There are no cameras on this lane. She'd really done it.

Abby changes in her car, managing not to make a scene and then uses the wet wipes she brought to remove excess blood. She eyes the clothing and wipes she folded into a plastic bag and noted to burn it later.

Now, she could finally go home and make you hers.

The drive back is serene, Abby has never felt more elated. Every light shines brightly, the air smells of fresh flowers and evening dew. She can't help the holler that leaves her as she speeds down the highway, back to you.

Abby finds you in your bedroom, freshly showered and cocoa butter rubbed into your skin. She swallows and walks you back into the bed, clambering over you as you make your way up the bed.

Abby's mouth meets yours feverishly, you're tearing at her clothes and she quick to whip them off, desperate to feel your skin on hers. As soon as she's naked, Abby's hands are exploring your body, squeezing and gripping at every part of you, her mouth kissing at your neck and making marks there.

"M'sorry baby I just - i need to fuck you," She groans, lavishing your chest in attention, nipping at your sensitive nipples and taking them into her mouth to suck on as your back arches into her.

You try to snake your hands down into her boxers but Abby pulls your hands up and presses them above your head.

"Just let me do my job tonight, yeah? Let me take care of you, sweetness," Abby sighs as her hand cups your mound, she kisses her way down your torso, whining all the way until her mouth is on your clit again.

"Look at you," Abby groans, spreading your pussy open, "so needy you're fucking leaking already," she whines, her thumbs gently stroking at your labia until your huffing and bucking your hips up into her hands.

Before you can pleas with her for more, Abby's licks up your whole cunt and then starts to lap at your clit, her tongue tasting you from side to side. Letting her spit and your wetness pool at her finger, so she can slide it home.

"God, Abs," you sigh, hips meeting her thrusts, Abby is so taken with the way you stretch around her fingers and -

"Wanna feel you with my cock," she groans, "please can I use my strap baby," Abby groans, she's about ready to hump your leg. When you nod and whine yes, Abby's sprinting to put it on like it's the biggest competition of her life.

You admire her in the dim light, her muscles straining against her skin and her hips flexing with against the straps of her dick.

"You're so beautiful," you sigh as Abby comes closer, pressing a kiss to your mouth as she comes between your legs.

"M'gonna fill you up, and then come inside you yeah?" you whimper at the notion and spread your legs for her. You jolt at the coolness of the lube dropping on your clit as Abby lathers herself and you in the slippery substance.

"You good baby?" Abby asks before pushing in and when you nod, she's groaning as you take every inch of her. Like she can feel how fucking tight you are. How needy you are for her to fill you up.

Your mouth widens at the stretch and your hips are immediately bucking against hers for more, "please, please Abby," you blubber, profanities leaving you with every thrust of her hips.

"I love you so much," your arms come to grab at Abby, nails trailing red fire across her back as she fucks you. Her thrusts deep and slow, every part of your body sizzling as the base of her strap rubs on your clit.

"You're so deep, Abigail - god please - i love you," you sputter as Abby's hips circle and your eyes roll back in your head.

"I love you too baby, I fucking love you, wanna fill you up, can i come inside you? Please please i need to," Abby grunts as you nod vehemently, your hips struggling to meet her thrusts, until she holds your hips down and thrusts down deep and hard, the sound of it echoing through the cabin. Along with your songs of praise for each other.

"Gonna come, please come with me, please come inside me," you plead and Abby's hips stutter, the base of her clit pressing so perfectly against her, smacking and grinding as she fucks you. Your pussy swallowing her so perfectly. The coil in Abby's belly snaps, the same time you boil over and you cling to each other as you come. Pants that come with declarations of love leave you. If these were your lasts breaths you would happily take them.

Abby gently pulls out and discards of her strap, kicking it to the bottom of the bed and coming to entangle herself with you. The bed is all limbs and sheets, sweat and sex and love.

Abby doesn't think anything will compare to this feeling. Her veins are on fire and she shivers as your fingertips graze over her bruises.

"Where did you get these?' you murmur against her skin and abby shurgs, "fell in some bushes," she chuckles and you're not in the mood to question. So you laugh and nuzzle your face in her neck.

"I love you Abby, really. Not just in a heat addled moment." Abby nods and kisses the side of your mouth. "I know honey pot, and I love you," she smiles lifting her head to peak at you. You're falling steadily into sleep and Abby nearly shushes your phone when it starts to ring.

Abby checks the notifications, An alert for the house alarm, from your mother and the neighbors. Abby rolls her eyes and turns your phone off. Gently and slowly Abby disentangles herself from you and makes her way to the kitchen.

She breaks your sim chip as soon as she gets it out and smiles at her handy-work. No more distractions. Abby leaves your phone in the kitchen and makes her way back to the bedroom where you're stirring without her. She creeps into the sheets and you attach yourself, kissing her neck and sighing deeply as her hand comes to knead at your ass.

"You're still needy?" she chuckles as she squeezes your inner thigh and you whine, "yeah? my lovely girl needs me?" you nod as Abby turns you over and slots her thighs between yours, separating your lips and hers and pressing down so your clits are bumping together.

"oh shit, you feel so good," Abby groans her breath hitching and as she moves against you, and your hips start to move too, so you're working in a perfect rhythm. It's quick and messy and hot, the way you're grinding against each other, chasing that last bit of pleasure until it crashes down on you both, your bodies shaking and pressed together.

You pull the blankets up over the both of you, and neither of you can help the dreamless sleep that takes you.

[seventeendeer]

might be a pandora's box but can you explain Surge and Kit's whole deal? i only just recently started paying attention to the comics so id love to hear about em from the resident Surge enthusiast c:

hahaaa yea I can do that ... :) [BOSS MUSIC PLAYS ON FULL VOLUME FROM MY BEAUTIFUL MIND]

these two quickly became some of my favorite Sonic characters of all time, so I'm treating everybody to the five course explanation-and-analysis meal on this one. any excuse to talk about my favs. let's rock!!!!

Surge and Kit are, in short, a couple of kids who were experimented on by an evil scientist to turn them into approximate replicas of Sonic and Tails. however, they were so emotionally broken by the experience that they no longer trust anyone but each other, and they've become cynical and destructive as a result.

their story starts with Doctor Starline, Doctor Eggman's former understudy, who became disillusioned after Eggman turned on him. Starline had spent his entire career looking up to Eggman, and it's strongly implied he was in love with him, so he took the breakup about as well as you'd expect.

Starline decides the only way to win Eggman back is to take over the world for him, and to this end, he needs to get rid of Sonic. his plan is to create a super soldier under his control who will kill Sonic, then replace him as the world's "hero", so Starline can control the narrative around heroes and villains in the eyes of the public.

he somehow comes into possession of a girl around Sonic's age, wipes her memories, and installs a new personality in her that is meant to emulate Sonic ... but she obviously becomes "Sonic" as filtered through Starline's not-so-generous perception of him: a brash, self-centered egomaniac with no impulse control. and then he gives her superpowers. and then he puts her through training so dangerous, she is repeatedly killed and has to be revived over and over. her trauma response manifests as fits of extreme anger, which makes her more and more difficult to control. Surge is born, and she's a much bigger handful than Starline bargained for.

to aid her in the field, Starline also puts another kid through the same procedures, creating Kitsunami. Kit is based on Tails, whom Starline sees as a spineless, mindless follower, who does whatever Sonic tells him to do. unlike Surge, Kit responds to their circumstances by becoming extremely fearful. he's easier for Starline to bully into submission, but he still struggles to fulfill his purpose because of his emotional troubles.

to try to keep the two of them in line, Starline begins to use a combination of hypnosis and straight up gaslighting to manipulate them into continuing to follow his lead.

it's often emphasized that Sonic and Tails consider each other family-by-choice, and as a very bleak narrative contrast, Starline, Surge and Kit develop an abusive family dynamic. it becomes clear Starline finds Surge annoying, often ignores her, and instead interacts more directly with Kit, if only because Kit is so afraid of him that he'll do whatever he tells him to do without any back-talk. Surge, who desperately craves attention as part of her artificially implanted personality, becomes resentful of Kit for being their "parent's" favorite, and so she becomes emotionally abusive toward Kit as well, which only makes him more desperate to placate her.

however, Surge and Kit eventually manage to work together long enough to find out the truth Starline has been hiding from them - that their personalities and goals were fabricated, that they used to be regular people before he changed them into what they are now, and that Starline is only using them to further his own goals. what was left of Surge's restraint disappears, and she decides to kill Starline, Eggman, Sonic and anyone else who had a hand in destroying her life. Kit loses what was left of his goodwill toward others and grows cold, deciding to join Surge on her revenge quest. though things don't go exactly according to plan, Starline does end up dead, and his traumatized kids with superpowers are let loose on the world.

since then, Surge and Kit have been recurring villains. Surge is impulsive and her exact goals change with her whims, but the one constant is that she wants Sonic dead so she won't have to live in his shadow as a flawed copy. Kit's obsessive loyalty to Surge only becomes further solidifed over time, everything he's ever experienced (that he remembers) telling him that she's the only one he can trust in a world full of selfish, callous people who only want to hurt him. though they get better at working together, they also develop a deadly level of codependence - in her attempts to achieve her goals, Surge constantly burns herself out, emotionally and physically, and ends up relying heavily on Kit to comfort and protect her when she's at her lowest, while Kit is completely reliant on Surge to give him purpose and direction. it's also obvious that even as Surge begins to reign in the verbal abuse a little bit, Kit remains scarred from everything she and Starline put him through, and at the end of the day he's still terrified of her.

the devil is really in the details with these two. they're powerful and have big personalities, which makes them iconic as villains, but they're also just a couple of traumatized kids who have been through hell and are dealing with it the only way they know how. there are so many little heartbreaking moments that really drive home how damaged they are, including ...

... Surge having a psychotic episode where she hallucinates Starline as the voice of her own self-hatred

... Kit repeatedly rejecting support from other characters in his desperation to avoid facing Surge's wrath

... both of them rejecting friendship from characters who treat them kindly out of paranoia, while feeling drawn to people who openly dislike them (Surge especially seems to be trying to fill the void Starline left behind by getting attention from people who mistreat her)

... gravitating toward other older villains who prey on their trauma to keep them under control

... hyper-vigilance, implied insomnia, a total lack of self-worth, restlessness, fawning behavior

and despite everything they've been through, even knowing full well that they were brainwashed and all of their emotional responses are fabricated, they've still ended up on the exact path Starline planned for them. Surge recently decided that she wants to be a "hero" after all to try to gain the attention she desperately craves, and Kit enthusiastically supports her dream. Kit has even started developing a sinister side that is the spitting image of Starline's methods - to make sure Surge will get what she wants, he goes behind her back to orchestrate disasters for her to solve, lying to her face about what's really going on the entire time. it doesn't seem to occur to him that he's hitting one of her worst triggers - being manipulated and kept out of the loop. it's kind of hair-raising, because he's just a little kid modeling his behavior on the only people he remembers knowing and he is sincerely only trying to make his "sister" happy ... but Surge is so scared of being lied to and used, and when she gets scared, she lashes out. unless she gets a lot of healthy character development really quickly, Kit could end up in a lot of trouble. did I mention Surge has lightning-based powers, Kit has water-based powers, and it's already been shown that Starline didn't bother to make him immune to electricity?

and yet despite all their dysfunctions, it's also clear that deep (deep) down, Surge at least has a good heart that even Starline couldn't beat out of her, and she genuinely wants to earn love and respect from the masses, and she cares about doing it the right way. Kit no longer has the capacity to care about most people, but for all her faults, he loves Surge and when she's happy, he is too. Surge is visibly putting effort into reigning in her temper when Kit seems afraid of her, and while Kit's scheming is ... concerning, at the very least he's become confident enough to do things by himself without needing constant reassurance from Surge. even as they're doing exactly what they're designed to do, there are all these little signs that they're starting to heal just a little bit in certain ways.

when they do get along, it's also just absolutely adorable. I am rooting hard for their friendship to continue to develop in a more healthy direction, against all odds. it's not good for them to rely so heavily on each other while shutting themselves off from everyone else, but at least with Starline out of the way, some of the pressure is off, and things aren't as bad as they have been for either of them. they were "born" in a horrible environment, and while it's a steep climb for them to get better and they develop various new neuroses along the way, there is hope for them.

and that's the deal! I left out a few details, like Kit's developing rivalry with Tails, because this post is already super long and I wanted to focus on Surge and Kit as individuals and their relationship to each other. I've been a Sonic fan since I was a kid, but these two have skyrocketed up my list of favorite characters in just the last few years. it's true I hype up Surge more because I just think she's cool, but really it's the weird little friendship between the two of them that has me super invested. I love how complicated it is, that push-pull of their toxic patterns VS moments of genuine solidarity

moral of the story is, don't be mean to your siblings, unionize with them and plot your shitty dad's demise instead <3

[changeling-artchive]

omgggggg

So many things to consider on this episode! okay okay lets go:

(Spoilers for. Pretty much all of it!)

0:00 okay so this was before stickpage and newsground

they are having a blast (hehe) destroying stuff! just lasering and flying and trowing fire with wild abandon! you can see they both are excited to do it and genuinly enjoying it

Then. the moment the block enters Chosen's inventory. It gives them pause. (inventory? new thing? where did this came from? ah block. block? you can do things with it!)

^ theyre very subdued about it, but curiosity has definitly taken hold. And satisfaction or something similar follows, cause they go picking up more blocks to continue building. This is something new, and they are liking it

Interesting to see them only build that microhut with coblestone, despite having both wood and dirt too. They dont imediatly go try other blocks, theyre content with this one - maybe saving the others for a new experience next. (does that make sense? i got the feeling they are willing to use the blocks at that moment, theyre not aprehensive or anything, but they dont because theyre content just. placing one coble in front of the other. baby steps?)

1:17 they finish the microhut, and boy are they expressive. hand on hips with satisfaction.

Also: They build something!! for the first time, they created something! (this is their first experience of doing, of making a thing/creating a change in a world that is not done with violence. This is their first time interacting with a enviroment withouy destroying something of it!! This is the first time they have a non-negative impact in a enviroment, that the change they bring upon it is not something that Takes from it, but that Gives!! <- am i digging too deep? most certaintly. But my shovel is sharp)

1:20 Dark comes to him, and Chosen waves hello and imediatly tries to engage Dark in the block/contructing things too. And then points at their microhut! showing it off!

Dark analises it, (thoroughly. hes taking chosen's entusiasm seriously) - but she misentreprets what chosen was showing her. She thinks this is a new thing Chosen made so they could destroy it, that destroying (it) was the goal, and not just the build itself. (very one-track mind, even when obvious, they dont realize Chosen doesnt want to destroy it. They cant conceptualize that Chosen could be showing (wanting) something diferent)

1:29 Even when Chosen leaps in front of the microhut, covering all they can of it (protecting all they can of it) Dark is confused about this reaction. Chosen once again mentions the microhut (glancing at it), dark mentions the ball of fire hes holding up. (once again misenterpreting what chosen is saying). "i am ready and waiting, is that it? its definitly big enough, let me at it!"

1:31 i cant entirely understand Chosen's little movement, (he lowers, looks at the microhut again,) but they get out of the way and explicity let Dark destroy it. "go at it"

^ i think theyre analysing wich was more worth. They deflated a little - Dark wasnt understanding (or. or dark understood, but still wants to destroy it, she likes destroying. (this isnt what dark is thinking (he greatly values what chosen wants) hes just. one-tracked on destruction. (wich well see later on the video) and thinks Chosen is too)) - Dark was ready and waiting and wanted to destroy the microhut.

And for all that Chosen liked building the microhut, likes having it standing, they still let Dark blow it up. Obviously, that Dark wants to is more important than the microhut remaining.

1:39 Still, Chosen liked building it. After Dark leaves, Chosen contemplates - staying there and continue, or go after Dark and keep rampaging toguether. They think. They chose to try building again

1:45 Dark almost imedialty notices (is wondering?) Chosen isnt flying, up with her too, he looks back at them- and crashes against a floating island

^ given that Dark just spent a while destroying alone while Chosen pondered their newly inventory and build the microhut, it gave me pause that after so little time he was already expecting them to follow - its possible that 1. after a offer of mutual destruction, they always afterwards fly off togheter to continue 2. Dark thought that Chosen was destroying someting while he was too, separatly (like they do on the flashbacks) and the fact they arent rn is what makes her look back to see what they are doing (wich rn is 0, they are standstill thinking lol.)

^ its not too perplexing tho (,they look in front to continue flying away shortly after, after noticing Chosen isnt coming). Just a bit diferent. they wonder for a bit, but dont worry, dont think deeply on why

2:03 and now! Dark is in the nether! down in the lava (and neat seeing it not hurt him). she just agroed the zombie piglings, and with the ghasts shes now in a enviroment of fire and darkness, (interestingly, she takes a moment to take it in (almost mesmerized? - his sholders relax, arms lowering from their position of having burst out of the lava)) and dang it, that fireblast the ghast sent him makes him notice - the many foes, much much weaker than her. She laughs, mockingly.

what follows is her having the time of her life fighting them.

2:36 (another moment that gave me pause) diping his hand in the lava while flying, like hes playing with the enviroment? what does this mean? a brief moment of reflection, a what could have been? A showcase (expecialy with the paralel with Chosen and water later) that the nether is the sorta place where he feels most satisfied/belonged to? (fire and harm and danger)

Or maybe is he simply afirming the lava doesnt hurt? or maybe is he simply relating to the firey enviroment?

2:43 meanwhile, Chosen is building a proper house! they have played around with the other blocks, and are silently satisfied with the result of the house. (they are less entusiastic than when they build the microhut, the first time. still equaly satisfied i think - but more muted. mm. i wonder.)

2:51 ofc, Chosen is still a flighty weapon of mass destruction we mustnt forget that.

^interestingly, though, what this showcases about Chosen and Dark, both interupted by a foe (creeper vs ghast). 1. Chosen did not heard the mob behind them and was frightened and reacted quickly to it. Dark, unlike chosen, sensed/heard beforehand the attack and simply calmly dodged 2. Chosen instinctualy lasers the creeper death, Dark doesnt attack imediatly, analysed the foe 3. Chosen remains wary and prepared to react, stock still. Dark laughts, at ease, and attacks back vicioulsy 4. Chosen resume the activetys before the interruption. Dark uses the blast as an very good reason to attack everything back with gusto, no longuer apreciating the nether ambiance

2:58 Chosens adorable reaction to the chicken, in contrast with their nonchalange at killing the cows and sheep before: he falls down, to either see where the chicken is going, or to catch it so it doesnt get hurt (depends on how moral you interpret them to be at this point in time) gets surprised by the hurt sound (not by taking damage) and distracted looking around for its source, that when the chicken falls to the ground unharmed they kinda look disapointed " i needn't bother"

3:10 ahh, the paralel to Dark's lava. (heres where i also noticed the amount of paralels in this video, a great way to show much characterization in so little time - by contrast)

They're flying in the oposite directions as Dark (a metaphor we can all catch im sure) and, when they dip their hand in the water, coblestone forms.

Inerent creation, when interating with the enviroment, benign.

3:14 pac-man mouth!! and for sure the fisrt time theyve eaten since the beguining of their rampage. They like it. its a simple, apreciated comfort. Calm, and not an offensive experience (unlike before, letters as nurishment and amunition)

3:29 they breathe

3:33, they tremble, just the tiniest bit. (overcome with emotions?? why did you tremble, minutly, in place, like that?)

3:38 and they sigh, sit back, relax completly. watching the sun set, this is he first time they've felt peace and contentment like this

(And it did not escape my notice that chosen only plays with and explores the world when alone, when dark isnt there with them)

3:42 (once again lol) they only notice the sword when it sunks past them, but its only Dark, and making the conection dark-sword trowned is easy, if perplexing after this day.

what follows is series of looking-at-dark-looking-at-sword-looking-at-dark, as if Chosen cant belive dark didnt also relax and change, perplexed, yes, about why and where did Dark get all this swords hes holding, but also that after this day, Dark is asking them to come continue the rampage, is asking them to leave this wonderfull world, Wants to leave this wonderful world.

3:54 They follow, obviously. That Dark want to is more important than remaining on this world.

4:00 but the seed has been planted. they've explored, and build, and Relaxed. they have realized that they like peace, and calm, too. More, even.

They've realized that peace is a Option for them, too.

So, this marks the turning point for Chosen: they no longuer feel such joy in destruction, now that theyve realized they enjoy peace, more. And following this, with the haze of destruction no longuer blinding them, they will realize that they dont like hurting other beings, other sticks.

Something Dark never gets to think of, cause caring about other beings lives means stoping destroing, stoping fighting, and he very much enjoys those. She has ever only known that, and, now, we see she has never taken any reason to try not to.

[stupidneko]

So I couldn't take it anymore and I spoiled myself a bit with the ending of MTMTE. So I'm thinking how could I incorporate the storyline for my own au lol.

All I can say is that The Nameless has two continues, the first part being with Neko and Pest, the second one being with Neko and Lisha, only for the second adventure has to come to an end just like her time with Pest.(At least Lisha is going to die peacefully and of old age lol)

Now Neko will be left alone once more, I'm thinking that she'll return to Cybertron, sneaking in its core as she wants to talk with Primus, even though he ain't answering, what a good listener, right.

Neko will definitely have a little breakdown, cause what she's supposed to do next? Pest is gone, now her alternative self, Lisha is also gone, with whom will she play with? Who could she drag into her chaos and adventures? Should she return back in time, relieve the same experiences as long as she gets to see her little Beastie? Or she could change the events of the past, transforming it into a new story with a different ending? But what would be the point of that if just like every story it will eventually end. Or she could make her own reality? Set a stage play that will never end ? So many possibilities, but despite it, she doesn't get excited about these thoughts like she'd usually be. What should she do? All these questions will be met with silence and the light that Primus core is.

It is unknown how much time she has spent there, but she'll eventually get up and leave with a melancholic smile, followed by her fast running and loud laughter, she knows what she'll do next. It will be everything!

something something

[ghostscarface]

Snape and the Muggle Therapist

"She is just Lily"

Therapist: "So tell me more about your school experience Professor, you teached in a school ,where you were a student yourself, correct?"

Snape:"Precisely, but I don't want to dwell in memories, being surrounded by simple minded people".

Therapist:" Oh? I thought you spent most of your time in that school with Lily? I doubt you mean her. Why don't you tell me more of her."

Snape:" Why? So that you could dissect her? Pick her apart? Tell me what I should think about her?"

Therapist:" No, but you were best friends for years, who else should her know better ? I want to know the real Lily."

Snape:"She...was kind. Brilliant.The only light in my world. Always knew what's right and what's wrong"

Therapist:"And.. were there moments where she was unkind? Maybe judgemental?"

Snape:" No, no she always did.. well she laughed when other students made sloppy mistakes in class. Especially people from my....dorm. But that's not that bad."

Therapist:"So...even a kind girl can have her...moments."

Snape:"...She hated being wrong and always demanded being right.Never listened to me. Overreacted over the smallest things.But she was there for me, when no one else was."

Therapist:" Was she ever unkind...to you?"

Snape:"Not on purpose..She turned her back on me. Said she couldn't do it anymore."

Therapist:"Did you ever hurt her?"

Snape:" I made mistakes. I regretted it so much. She knew me. She knew, I didn't mean it."

Therapist:" Even kind people can walk away when they're hurt. Even bright girls with kind hearts."

Snape:" She had her flaws, like every person. She was self-righteous,such a ridiculously quick temper. She once mocked a girl for her secondhand books,telling me how it looked like her stuff survived a war. I thought I was special at that time, for telling me that. But I didn't want to remember that"

Therapist:" That's ...oddly specific."

Snape:" I spent years only to remember the good things. It was easier than to forgive myself or her, for just leaving me...or myself for being an idiot. I refused to just...let it go. I wanted to bathe in that pain... I thought I deserved it.And I still..do."

Therapist:"You loved a girl who wasn't perfect. That's okay. She didn't save you. She didn't owe you anything.".

Snape:"No. But it felt like she did. Since no one else tried."

Therapist:" Doesn't mean she was bad. It means she was just Lily. A normal teenage girl."

Snape:" A girl I pinned all my hopes on, because I had nothing else."

Therapist:" We grieve people as they were, not how we needed them."