#things are progressing much faster than I planned for them to

[adrift-in-thyme]

So chapter 6 is going well

[1999hiru]

requesting for dark!pervy!Ellie who is friends with fem!reader

at first, Ellie is being the sweet and caring friend (holding reader’s bags when going out shopping, paying for things, taking care of reader, girlfriendy behavior without being gfs)

then slowly overstepping boundaries b/c Ellie is slowly revealing her true colors (becoming touchy and clingy, acting jealous, being controlling, degrade&belittle reader to hurt her feelings)

hopefully this could spark some ideas if you’re comfy with writing this <3 can be sfw and nsfw hehe ^3^

oh my god YUUMMMMYYYY thank you for this anon i actually just went dizzy at the thought of this mmmmm so yum ……… THANK YOU !!!!!!! <3<3<3 enjoy !!! (✿◠‿◠)

cw. dubcon, manipulative & controlling behavior, ellie being a massive creep!

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♡ . — ꒰ sfw ꒱

ellie who always makes sure you’re fed. your messages from her mostly consist of her asking if you ate, and if you even tried to step around it, “i did! had a little snack <3 thanks els” you’d still receive a knock at your door—your favorite meal and drink in ellie’s hands. she gets a little cranky when you say “snack,” she knows for a fact that you didn’t eat properly. there’s no way around it! ellie just wants you to be full and energized for the day.

ellie who immediately takes out her card when you complain about not having enough money for something. whether it’s something as small as a cute keychain, a sweater, or hell, even a $200 purse, she’s faster than you are. you already hear the loud beep! of it going through, ellie grabbing your shopping bags before she lets you drag her to the next store over. your arms are wrapped around her bicep tightly, repeating a sweet “thank you!” over and over again.

ellie who’s at your apartment as soon as she hears your nasally voice over the phone. she has a plastic bag full of medicine and spends her time in your kitchen making you a nice warm meal, spoon-feeding you and sitting right by your side as she hands you a water bottle with a pill to take for your illness. she’s patting your head and telling you “good job,” before she tucks you in, cleaning up your apartment while you sleep. she doesn’t even think about leaving until you’re better!

ellie who looks at you with something indescribable when you tell her that you met someone while you were working, and planned on hanging out with them at the local cafe. she asks you a lot of questions, who? where do they live? what do they look like? it’s not long before it slowly progresses into questions like what’d they say to you? is that them texting you right now? why are they bothering you so much? you often catch a glimpse of ellie’s head whipping towards your phone when it dings, her eyes glued onto your screen.

ellie who sits right behind you at said local cafe, on the day that you and that “friend” planned to go out. a black hoodie on and funny-looking sunglasses to pair, she’s stirring a cup of coffee (she didn’t even like coffee) while she listens to you laugh and giggle like you did with her. what the fuck was so funny? she thinks, she feels something boiling beneath her skin. it didn’t sit right with her that you were spending your precious time with someone so undeserving. she should’ve been sat across you, watching your eyes crinkle and your pretty lips sip at your beloved drink. you and ellie had been to this cafe a hundred times by now, and it grew something dangerous in her stomach knowing that someone else had taken her place.

ellie who blankly stares at you when you show her your outfit for the next hangout, you’re leaving in a few minutes, smiling and twirling in front of the mirror. you’re wearing a cute little skirt, a nice frilly blouse for your top. your makeup is done perfectly and you gush about how you’ve made a good friend, that they enjoy the same things as you, and the fact that they think you’re pretty. ellie finally snaps at that, a mean scoff leaving her lips. you flinch at the sound—ellie had never done that with you. “i wouldn’t be so happy, honestly, i mean..” ellie comes up behind you, her hand trailing down to the end of your skirt. it’s short, and ellie lifts it just enough, exposing bits of your bare thigh. “i love it, but, what if they think you’re a whore? dressed like that?” she continues, letting go of the fabric.

ellie who feels pure satisfaction blooming in her chest when your smile fades away, you nod in response, not saying anything. a whore? you didn’t want that. your eyes are teary at the insult, lip trembling, before you make your way to your dresser. you fish out a pair of jeans, pulling your skirt off in front of ellie. she quickly snaps a picture of you before you’re all dressed up again. you keep facing your old wooden dresser, looking at the chips and dents. you’re afraid of ellie seeing you cry. but she knows you are, and she’s suddenly pulling you into her arms and rubbing your back, soft cries pulled from your throat. she hums into your hair, “awh, c’mon, don’t cry. y’know i’m just looking out for you, right?” you can’t feel the grin pressed against you, ellie cooing when you hiccup. “don’t wanna ruin your pretty makeup, so stop crying.”

ellie who is more than pleased to know that you haven’t been wearing your skirts around them anymore, and she feels even better when you suddenly receive a photo from an unknown number—a picture of you, asleep in only your panties and a tank top, your leg over a pillow exposing your ass and legs. you feel bile rise in your throat when you open it. who? but ellie always has an answer to your problems, and she advises you not to speak to your “good” friend anymore. your head is in ellie’s lap, pink cheeks stained with tears while she gently runs her fingers through your hair. “it’s really weird that this happened when you met, i don’t think it’s a good idea to talk to them anymore..” you didn’t question how they had found your apartment, or even how they got in. but you’d never know that ellie had been the one to sneak into your apartment. you had given her an emergency key if anything had happened since you lived alone, and ellie had never used it before. but ellie was getting tired of hearing about this loser, and she quietly walked into your room late at night, pulled out her phone and took a picture of you. unconscious and vulnerable. the best part was that you would never accuse her of something like that. you trusted ellie, she wouldn’t do that to you.

♡ . — ꒰ nsfw ꒱

ellie who asks for your phone from time to time, looking through your messages and buying you ice cream when she doesn’t see anyone new lingering in your inbox. she waits till you’re distracted doing something else, cleaning your living room, your kitchen, organizing clothes, before she looks through your gallery and sends herself your selfies and other… pictures you’ve taken. she quickly opens up her phone to save them before deleting them on your end. they weren’t nudes, but some of them made ellie sticky in her boxers, a particular photo of you with your tongue out and wearing your favorite pajama set. she thinks about using your mouth to get herself off, groaning at the thought of your lips covered in her arousal.

ellie who uses the secret pictures she’s taken of you to masturbate, the one of you asleep her favorite one by far. she’s cumming at the thought of your pretty face crying when she called you a whore, your glossy eyes when you received that picture of you unconscious, she doesn’t even really need the picture at this point—but it makes her even hornier that you’re so naive. she likes the reminder of her influence on you, how easy you believed her. she’s gritting out your name when she makes a mess all over her pillow, imagining it as your body.

ellie who takes you out for another mall date as usual, she lets you wear anything you want around her—but you’ve noticed that every time you’re wearing a skirt, ellie’s hands brush against your ass for a second, and it seems to be happening more and more. she gives you a sheepish smile and apologizes, “i’m walking too close, i wasn’t paying attention,” but you can’t see her behind you, you can’t see her eyes fixated on your plump ass peaking from beneath the fabric, calculated touches on ellie’s end. you start ignoring it when you realize it just keeps happening, maybe she really is just doing it by accident. she’s holding a lot of bags, and there’s a lot of people. it gets distracting inside of a packed mall!

ellie who gets a little too touchy one night. she’s staying over at your apartment again since you felt paranoid about someone sneaking in, and you’re fast asleep in her arms almost immediately. ellie tucks a stray loose of hair behind your ear, your warm breaths against her tattooed arm. she doesn’t realize her hand is already slowly drifting down your chest, a finger gently tugging down your top to reveal your nipple. she brushes over it, carefully, the bud hardening at her touch. ellie lets out a small noise seeing it, wanting nothing more than to lick at it, bite until it’s all sore. she quickly fixes your clothing when you shuffle in her grasp, her heart pounding against her chest. she hopes it doesn’t wake you up.

ellie who peeks into your bathroom while you’re showering. you’ve recently kept the door open while you did your business because you were anxious, and ellie needed to get to you in time if something happened. ellie does her best to see you through the glass, your blurry naked figure moving around as you rinse yourself off. she can’t make out your face at all, but she can see the outline of you, your perky tits, the dips of your hip, she can faintly see your ass as you grab and smooth over it with soap. ellie’s slipping a hand down her pants while she stares, playing with herself as she continues looking at you. she’s moaning softly against the edge of the door, circling her clit in fast circles. she didn’t have the time to drag it out like she usually did, edging herself to pictures of you or your sleeping face next to her. you were going to be done soon—and ellie cums as soon as you’re groping your tits, washing innocently.

ellie who tells you to quit your job. she can’t risk you meeting someone else, and she’d have to go through that same process all over again. you were stupid to believe her the first time, but a second? you’d obviously pick up on something. ellie couldn’t have that. she tells you “i’ve already been paying for everything, i might as well move in since i’m here all the time.” initially, you’re a bit worried. rent was expensive! your full time job wasn’t even cutting it, how would you both pay for rent if you couldn’t? but ellie quickly shushes you with her usual excuses, and eventually, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. ellie could protect you if something were to happen again. you quit your job and with a short notice to joel, ellie moves in the next week.

ellie who can’t help but kiss you when you’re sleeping. it’s only the third night of you both living together, but your lips are right there, right in front of her, and all the restraint in her body had left a long time ago—she’s pressing wet kisses to your mouth, her tongue licking at your lips. all over it, disgustingly so, but you’re so sweet. ellie can’t get enough. she’s eventually pulling down your panties, her face buried in between your legs, licking feverishly at your pussy. you wake up to the stickiness between you, your eyes widening when you see your best friend below you. she’s staring up at you without shame, like she was waiting for you to wake up. there’s something dark swimming in her eyes, and she doesn’t stop even when you’re thrashing under her hold. her hands are pinning your thighs to your bed, her tongue making it’s way into your hole. you’re far too deep to fight back, the drowsiness of sleep and the unbearable heat in your cunt hard to push away. “come for me first, i’ll stop then—please, i need it,” you try to respond, but her fingers find your clit and she’s rubbing you so good that it makes you squirt all over her tongue, your slick coating her slender fingers. you’re panting heavily, chest aching with how desperately you’re trying to catch air, and ellie is suddenly hovering right above you. she presses a kiss to your forehead, gentle and loving, unlike her a few moments ago. “i’m all you need, okay? just me, say it, please.” you gulp, the familiar feeling of fear spreading in your chest. you stare back up at her with those teary eyes she loved, “you’re all i need, els.”

[angrythingstarlight]

I can’t imagine this happening but has Bucky ever yelled at Malyshka ?

He did raise his voice once the night she gave her bodyguards the slip, they had a fight and the next morning, they were both a little on edge.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

CW: Smut, implied arguments, dom/sub dynamics.

AN: Written on my phone and unbetad.

☆Mafia Masterlist☆Bumblebee Series

"Excuse me?" Your tone is soft, almost curious, it belies the glare you're leveling his way. "Tell me again what I can't do?"

Bucky grits his teeth, the muscle in his jaw ticks. He never meant for this fight to spill over into the next morning. He had planned on apologizing until he saw you packing your bag for your bachelorette party.

A whole day early.

Jealous and an unfamiliar emotion roiling in the depths of chest had his tongue moving faster than his brain. His chance to make things right went up in flames the second his mouth opened and he told you that you couldn't have any dancers at your party.

What he really meant to say was he needed more time with you after yesterday.

Instantly all the progress he made last night was eradicated. Now he's desperately wavering between holding on to his pride and risking making things worse or begging for forgiveness.

"Malyshka—"

"Don't Malyshka me, James." You step up to him, wrapping your hand around his obsidian tie, you yank him down to your level. Taking your phone out of your pocket, you manage to call your best friend without breaking eye contact with him. She picks up on the second ring. Her greeting echoes through the quiet bedroom.

"Hey girl, listen you know how I said I wanted to keep things low key and girls only for my party?" you respond, pulling him even closer so your lips are almost touching.

You don't want him to miss a single word.

"I changed my mind. I want it all. Strippers. Lap dances—"Bucky's brows knit and his deep blue eyes take on a dangerous glint. "Matter of fact, instead of one night let's make it the whole weekend. You think you can still get us into that club?"

"Hell yeah," she exclaims, immediately rattling off all the places she's going to take you this weekend. He nods slowly, murmuring something under his breath.

"Can't wait," you say, grinning wickedly. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down and watch his eyes darken. You hang up, letting him go at the same time. Abruptly spinning on your heel, you head back to the bed and open up your overnight bag. Critically eyeing everything you already packed, you toss out the sweatpants. "I won't be needing these anymore."

Bucky watches as you stroll over to the dresser and pull out a handful of lingerie. "These will look much better on me. How touchy do these lap dances get? I never gotten one before so I better get my money's worth."

"Malyshka," he chuckles, his voice deepening to a near growl, the sound sends a pulse of heat down your belly. "I thought I explained to you last night what happens when you don't listen to me."

He catches the way you shiver as the memories of last night replay in your head.

The room fills with your frantic cries of dontstopBucky and mindless pleas for more and more. Sweat rolls down your back, your hands clawing at his shoulders, trying to get a hold of something, anything as he bounces your trembling body on his cock.

He made you promise to never leave without protection, to call him first before acting brazenly, to not scare him again.

He made you promise a lot last night, half of which you don't even remember, so drunk off mind-blowing pleasure that everything became a haze after the fifth, maybe sixth, time Bucky brought you to your peak.

"Guess I forgot." You say, defiantly meeting his sharp gaze and select his favorite pair of panties, deliberately adding them to the pile you're making.

A smirk stretches across his plush lips and he casually walks to you, pinning you to the dresser with his large body. Clasping your chin in his hand, he tilts your face up as his calloused thumb sweeps across your cheek. "I'll remind you."

"Apologize first," you demand, your breath coming out on a shaky exhale. Even when you're mad at him, you still need him. But that doesn't mean you won't make him work for it.

"Do you want me to say it—" Bucky shrugs off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, keeping you in place with a firm press of his hips. He drops his hand between your bodies and gently cups your pussy. "—or get down on my knees and show you how sorry I am? You know what they say about actions meaning more than words."

It's not a difficult decision.

"I want both."

"That's my girl." His lips graze your ear, his bartione rolls across your skin, a heady pulse flaring between your thighs. "And have your little fun this weekend but I swear I'm about to fuck you so good, you're going to feel me inside you the entire time."

We'll explore the bodyguard incident and the bachelorette/bachelor parties in more detail. Do you really think Bucky will let her get that lap dance? 👀

[sunny44]

Happy birthday Chili

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s Carlos’ birthday and Y/n and the twins surprise him.

Monza. The racetrack that always echoed with the history of Formula 1 and the passion of the tifosi. But that weekend, the Italian circuit, usually a stage for intense emotions for any driver, felt like nothing more than a lonely place for Carlos. What should have been a moment of celebration and joy was being marked by a silent emptiness.

The twins had fallen ill the previous week, nothing serious, but enough to prevent the trip. We had talked about the importance of their health and agreed that it was best for them to stay home and recover, as they were too young to be exposed while they were still fragile. Carlos, as always, was understanding, as we had always agreed that the twins were our priority, no matter what. But I knew he was feeling our absence. I could hear it in his voice every time we spoke on the phone. He tried to hide it, but after so many years together, I could pick up on the small nuances in his tone.

This morning, Carlos called me from the hotel in Monza, and I could hear people singing happy birthday in the background.

The sound of his voice was a little more cheerful today, but you could tell by his face that he wasn’t as excited as he usually would be. He talked about the preparations for the Grand Prix, about the atmosphere in the paddock, but what he really wanted to know was about us. He asked how the kids were, if they were feeling better, and how I was handling everything on my own. I reassured him that we were fine and that Sophia and Sammy were doing much better than a few days ago, but I didn’t mention the plans in progress. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

At that exact moment, I was packing the twins’ bags for a train trip from Monaco to Monza. We opted to take the train to avoid any additional stress for the children, as they were still recovering. I knew the journey would be tiring for them, but I also knew how much it would mean to Carlos. And to be honest, I was just as excited to see him as he was to see us.

Sophia and Sammy were excited about the trip. Even though they were so young, they understood that it was a special day and that they were going to surprise their dad. I packed some of their favorite toys, along with snacks and the outfits they loved. It was a warm and sunny morning in Monaco, and I knew the weather would be similar in Monza. The train ride would be long, but I was prepared. When you’re the mother of twins, learning to prepare for any situation is a fundamental skill. After their birth, I learned to do things I didn’t even know I could.

The trip was smoother than I expected. Sophia fell asleep almost immediately after the train departed, and Sammy was fascinated, gazing out the window, commenting on everything he saw. He seemed to be recovering much faster than his sister, but I knew she would soon be running around, full of energy again.

Time seemed to pass slowly as I watched the Italian landscape unfold outside. I was anxious, trying to imagine Carlos' reaction when he saw us. Part of me wanted to tell him we were on our way, to relieve some of his sadness, but the idea of surprising him, of seeing that sparkle in his eyes, kept me firm in the plan.

When the train finally arrived in Monza, the warm Italian afternoon enveloped us as we stepped onto the platform. The children were a bit sleepy, but the excitement on their faces was undeniable. I had spoken to Charles through messages to help me with the passes for me and the kids to enter the paddock, and he also arranged with the hotel reception where they were staying so I could go to his room when we arrived. When we got to the hotel, I managed to enter with the children through a quieter area, as I didn’t want any photos to leak, and I didn’t want to overwhelm the kids with the large crowd.

"Y/n, darling." I heard his mother’s voice, and when I turned around, I saw her and his father.

“Grandma!” the kids shouted and ran over to them.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said when I approached.

“At first, I wasn’t. The kids were sick, but they got much better, and I decided to surprise him.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” she said.

“Did you get a room?” his father asked.

“Actually, Charles helped me, and I got the key to his room.” They nodded.

“Well, we’re heading to the paddock now, so we’ll give you some time to settle in.”

“Of course, see you in a bit.”

They left, and I took the kids to the room, left the bags in a corner, and we still had three hours before the race, so I put the kids to bed for a nap. After they fell asleep, I took a shower and changed clothes. Since I couldn’t sit still, I started organizing some of Carlos' clothes scattered around and then packed the kids' essentials for the paddock. Soon, they woke up, so I got them ready, and as we headed to the hotel lobby, I saw his cousin there.

“Carlos, hey,” I said as he hugged me and the kids.

“I’ll take you to the paddock.”

We arrived at the racetrack, and the energy of the place was contagious. The engines roaring in the distance, the sound of fans, the familiar smells of fuel and burnt rubber. Everything was there, as always, but with a special touch that day, because I knew that soon we’d all be together again.

We headed to the paddock, and as I walked with Sammy in one arm and holding Sophia’s little hand with the other, my heart beat faster.

Finally, as we approached the Ferrari garage, I saw Carlos' team. Some of the engineers immediately recognized us and smiled warmly. Sammy was already aware of what was happening and was fidgeting in my arms, eager to get down, so I put him on the ground and walked with them, one on each side. We made our way toward the area where Carlos was likely to be, and the anticipation grew with every step. Finally, he appeared, his back to us, deep in conversation with one of the mechanics.

I took a moment to absorb the scene before calling his name. He turned around, and I saw the shock and absolute happiness cross his face. "Surprise!" I said, trying to hold back the emotion in my voice.

Carlos approached, his eyes shining with surprise and relief, and before he could say anything, Sophia and Sammy let go of my hands and ran toward their dad, shouting, "Daddy!" He scooped her up, spinning her in the air as his smile grew even wider. Sammy nestled into Carlos' other arm shortly after. I couldn’t help but approach too, hugging him, feeling the warmth and familiarity of his touch.

“You came!” he said, still in shock, his voice slightly choked with emotion.

“Of course we did,” I replied. “I couldn’t let you spend your birthday without your babies.”

Carlos set the kids down and pulled me into a tight embrace, one of those hugs that communicated more than any words could.

I felt his lips touch the top of my head as he murmured, “This is the best gift ever.”

“I’m glad you’re happy.” He smiled.

“So, how did you manage to come here alone with the two troublemakers?” He said, watching the kids playing with the mechanics.

“After giving birth to twins and spending so much time alone with them, you learn a lot of tricks.” He laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I believe you, dealing with those two is no easy task.” He said, hugging me. “Did you bring your stuff here?”

“No, Charles helped me with a few details, and one of them was your hotel room. We left our things there.” He nodded.

“Daddy,” the kids came to our feet.

“Mommy said it’s your birthday,” Sammy said.

“It is.”

“Happy birthday then,” he said simply, stretching his arms for a hug, and we all laughed.

We spent the rest of the day together, divided between the frenetic atmosphere of the paddock and quieter moments in a reserved room where we could just be ourselves. The kids, now full of energy, ran and played while Carlos and I exchanged knowing glances, content just to be together. He made sure to show Sophia and Sammy the car, something that always fascinated them. The sparkle in their eyes was a reflection of the pride and love they felt for their father.

Later, Carlos had to return to his team duties, but now he was different. The sadness I had heard in the morning had disappeared, replaced by a quiet joy. He was whole again, with his family by his side, ready to face the rest of the weekend with renewed energy.

At the end of the day, we returned to the hotel where the team was staying. I put the kids to bed and joined Carlos on the room's balcony, where he was admiring the night view of Monza. When I approached, he wrapped his arms around me, and we stayed silent for a moment, just enjoying the tranquility and each other’s presence.

“Thank you for this,” he finally said. “You made this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“You deserve it,” I replied, smiling. “Happy birthday, my love.”

And with those words, we ended a day that had begun with longing and uncertainty but concluded with the certainty that as long as we were together, everything would always be in the right place.

Bonus scene!

Y/nSainz instagram post

Liked by @carlossainz, @charlesleclerc, @scuderiaferrari and others 917392

@Y/nSainz Today is the day of the best husband and Papa in the world. I couldn't ask for anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.

Since I met you, my life has changed completely. I remember the day we went out for the first time and the first time you told me you loved me. If I close my eyes, I can remember it as if it were yesterday. But the best memory of all was when I told you I was pregnant. I really didn't expect you to be so happy and so scared at the same time, but I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy birthday, my love. You definitely make my life the happiest ever. I love you.

Sammy and Sophia are lucky to have you as their papa.

@carlossainz I love you so much hermosa, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’m so grateful that you gave me Sophia Sammy, being their papa is the best gift you could have ever given me. And thank you once again for coming by train from Monaco all the way here just so I could spend my birthday with you and the kids.

Liked by @y/nsainz

@charlesleclerc happy birthday mate, so happy to have you as my teammate

@user28 let’s be thankful that we have Y/n to bless us with these photos. Happy birthday Carlos

@scuderiaferrari let’s all wish the happiest birthdays to our Smooth Operator 🌶️

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble) 🔮 | Ch. 5

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

summary: A matchmaking event, a reckless plan, and a game that cuts a little too deep—because playing with fire always has consequences

wc: 8.3k (Chapter 5/?)

a/n: I'm reading all the reviews you're leaving, and it's filling me with so much joy, seriously, thank you so much! I promise I'll eventually get around to replying to them all, but for now, just know that I've seen them, I appreciate every single one, and they are absolutely fuelling me to get these chapters out faster. If I had to stare at this chapter any longer, I was genuinely going to throw myself off a cliff, so here it is before I lose my mind. I don’t know, I hope you like it!

And just a heads-up—ratings have officially gone up 🔥 y'all better handle this with care.

Ch. 4 ch. 6

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next few weeks flew by in a blur of routine and mild frustration. I’d gotten used to maneuvering on crutches though not without my fair share of near-disasters and before long, I was downgraded to a boot. A clunky, annoying boot, but it was better than nothing. And now, I was almost out of it, counting down the days until I could finally move like a normal person again.

Lilia had been... Lilia. Ever present, always hovering just enough to make sure I wasn’t doing anything too reckless, but never crossing the line into anything that could be considered more. There were lingering touches, soft smiles, and the occasional meaningful glance, but nothing had really progressed.

And, honestly? That was fine.

Mostly.

Between the shop being surprisingly busy and my friends constantly roping me into their latest schemes, fundraisers, work drama, and questionable life choices. I barely had time to dwell on it. I liked keeping busy, helping where I could, and throwing myself into distraction after distraction. It was easier than thinking about how much I wanted Lilia but didn’t know how to move things forward.

Some days, it felt like we were stuck in this comfortable, frustrating limbo. We'd laugh, we’d bicker, we'd work side by side in the shop, but there was always this invisible line neither of us was willing to cross.

Still, things were good.

Lilia was still a mystery I was determined to solve, even if she sometimes acted like an impenetrable fortress. But there were moments, tiny cracks in the walls she put up. The way she’d refill my tea without asking, or how she’d linger at the end of my shift, pretending to read while really just making sure I got home safely. The way she’d watch me when she thought I wasn’t looking, like she was thinking about something.

And those moments? They were enough to keep me going. For now.

One afternoon, as I hobbled around the shop stocking shelves, I sighed dramatically. "Lilia, please, I cannot wait to be out of this boot. I feel like Frankenstein’s monster."

Lilia smirked from behind the counter, flipping through an old grimoire. "You only have to wait till this afternoon."

I shot her a glare. "Rude."

She chuckled, but there was that usual softness behind it, the kind that made my heart skip a little. "You'll be back to your reckless self soon enough. I'm sure I'll regret it."

I grinned. "Oh, you will. First thing I'm doing is dancing barefoot on the counter just to spite you."

Lilia rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she just said, "I'll keep the first aid kit ready."

I snorted, limping toward the register. "You should always have that thing on standby with me around."

"Trust me," she said dryly. "I do."

The bell above the shop door jingled, and before I could process it, Jen and Agatha waltzed in like they owned the place.

"Y/n!" Jen beamed. "Still hobbling around, I see."

Agatha leaned on the counter, eyeing Lilia with that devilish glint in her eye. "And, you're still under Lilia's watchful eye, huh?"

Lilia arched a brow. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Jen smirked at me. "Oh, it's not a bad thing at all."

I groaned. "Guys, please."

Agatha ignored me, grinning. "Anyway, y/n, you up for helping me with something later?"

I sighed, already knowing I was about to get roped into something ridiculous. "What is it this time?"

Jen wiggled her brows. "Oh, you know, just a little... matchmaking event."

I blinked. "No."

Lilia, to my absolute horror, looked very interested. "Matchmaking?"

Agatha smirked. "Yeah. You in?"

Lilia, without missing a beat, looked directly at me and said, "I think y/n should go."

My jaw dropped. "What?!"

Lilia’s lips curled into that maddening smirk. "It could be... fun."

I groaned, slamming my head onto the counter. "I hate all of you."

Lilia just sipped her tea, looking far too pleased with herself. "You'll survive, baby."

“What exactly is a matchmaking event?”

Jen leaned against the counter, grinning like the devil she clearly was. "Oh, y/n," she purred, eyes sparkling with mischief. "A matchmaking event is exactly what it sounds like."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "And why, exactly, do you think I need to attend one?"

Agatha smirked, completely ignoring my very valid concern. "It's a charity event, actually. Think of it like speed dating, but fancier, cocktails, music, a little light mingling." She waved a hand dramatically. "People will bid on dates, there'll be matchmaking games, the whole romantic shebang."

I groaned. "You have to be kidding me."

Billy, who had apparently appeared out of thin air (or just snuck in without me noticing), clapped his hands together. "Oh no, she's not kidding, and I am so excited for this."

Lilia, who had been sipping her tea silently this whole time, finally spoke up, eyes fixed on me in that infuriatingly calm way she had. "I think it’s an excellent idea."

I gaped at her. "Et tu, Lilia?!"

She shrugged, setting her cup down with a smirk. "You did say you were bored."

Agatha nodded sagely. "Exactly! And what better way to pass the time than by meeting some... interesting people?"

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Oh my God, no. I am not getting auctioned off to the highest bidder like a damn prize goat."

Jen laughed. "Oh, come on. It’s for charity! Think of it as... networking."

Billy wiggled his brows. "With benefits."

Lilia quirked an eyebrow, but there was something sharp in her eyes now, something that made my stomach flip. "You never know, y/n," she said smoothly, "maybe you'll find someone... intriguing."

I stared at her, heat rising to my cheeks. Was she actually encouraging this?

I pointed an accusing finger at the coven. "You’re all just doing this to watch me suffer, aren’t you?"

Agatha grinned. "Absolutely."

Billy winked. "One hundred percent."

Jen shrugged. "You should be used to it by now."

I sighed, sinking onto the nearest chair. "This is actually my worst nightmare."

Lilia, standing far too composed and far too smug, leaned against the counter. "You'll do fine, baby."

And the way she said it, soft, teasing, but with just enough of an edge, made me wonder if she was enjoying this a little too much.

I stared at Lilia for a long moment, watching the way she casually sipped her tea, completely unbothered by the absolute chaos the coven was throwing at me. Mixed signals? Oh, she was full of them. She’d spent weeks hovering, making sure I didn’t overdo it, looking after me with a quiet protectiveness, and now she was totally fine with me flirting with other people?

Okay, Lilia.

Fine. If she wanted to play it cool, I could play it colder.

With a wicked smirk, I crossed my arms and leaned back into my chair. "Alright," I said, shrugging. "I'll do it."

The coven exploded.

"YES!" Billy practically fist-pumped.

Jen beamed. "Oh, this is going to be so good."

Agatha cackled. "I knew you'd come around."

But I didn’t take my eyes off Lilia, watching for any flicker of emotion behind that carefully composed exterior of hers. She raised a brow, looking mildly impressed but ultimately unfazed. “Good for you,” she said, nodding. “You’ll enjoy yourself.”

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I smiled sweetly. “Yeah, maybe I’ll meet someone intriguing, like you said.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Perhaps.”

Ugh.

I was going to do this. Not because I wanted to, but because if Lilia was going to keep up this whole mysterious and unattainable older woman thing, then I was going to make her watch me flirt with someone else.

By the time I got back from the hospital that evening, boot-free and feeling like I had reclaimed my dignity, I was on a mission.

I went all out.

I pulled out one of my best dresses, the kind that hugged in all the right places, paired it with strappy low heels— I wasn’t about to push my luck after just recovering from a broken leg — and topped it all off with red lipstick. My hair was styled to perfection. 

I looked in the mirror and grinned. Damn, I missed dressing up.

Before I left, I snapped a quick selfie and sent it to the group chat.

Me: Ready to break hearts tonight.

Billy responded instantly.

Billy: BABE. I AM DEAD.

Jen: GIRL, THEY WON'T SURVIVE YOU.

Agatha: Show Lilia. Right now.

I rolled my eyes, typing back.

Me: No way. Let her suffer.

I grabbed my clutch, took one last glance in the mirror, and smirked.

Lilia Calderu had no idea what she was in for.

I arrived at the venue, the heels clicking confidently against the pavement as I made my way inside. The place was fancier than I expected, soft lighting, elegant decor, and the kind of crowd that screamed money meets desperation.

I spotted Agatha immediately, standing near the bar with a drink in hand, watching me approach with an impressed smirk. Her eyes swept over me from head to toe, and she let out a low whistle. “Damn, y/n. If I weren’t rooting for Lilia, I’d bid on you myself.”

I rolled my eyes, planting myself in front of her. “Alright, what do I need to do?” I asked, folding my arms.

Agatha grinned wickedly. “Eager, are we?”

I sighed, eyeing the bustling room. “Let’s just say I’ve been encouraged.”

She chuckled, handing me a glass of champagne like she hadn’t practically dragged me here. “Alright, here’s how it works. There are three... let’s call them options.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Go on.”

Agatha held up a perfectly manicured finger. “Option one—the bidding auction. People bid for a date with you.”

I groaned. “Hard pass.”

Ignoring me, she lifted a second finger. “Option two—the matchmaking questionnaire. You fill it out, they set you up with someone they think is compatible.”

I stared at her. “Do I look like someone who’s here for a deep connection?”

Agatha smirked. “No, you look like someone here to make a certain divination witch jealous as hell.”

I didn’t deny it. “And option three?”

Agatha smirked, holding up the final finger. “And then there’s option three... mingling, flirting, working the room.” She gestured grandly at the crowd. “And, honestly, that’s where you shine.”

I sighed, taking a slow sip of champagne. “And which one exactly do you want me to do?”

Agatha’s grin stretched impossibly wider. “Oh, baby, I didn’t bring you here to find your soulmate.” She winked. “I brought you here to make Lilia Calderu jealous as hell. So, option three it is.”

I arched a brow. “And if she doesn’t show up?”

Agatha shrugged. “Then at least you’ll have some fun and free champagne.”

I sighed, finishing my drink. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Agatha grinned, looping her arm through mine. “That’s the spirit. Now, go mingle. And remember, eye contact, light touches, and laugh at everything.”

I groaned but let her pull me toward the crowd. This was going to be... interesting.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back and putting on my most dazzling smile. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

Armed with another glass of champagne and Agatha’s ridiculous advice bouncing around in my head, I stepped into the crowd, letting myself glide from conversation to conversation. I laughed, I touched arms lightly, I made just enough eye contact to keep people interested without giving too much away.

And through it all, one thought lingered in the back of my mind.

Please show up, Lilia.

I scanned the room subtly, pretending to be fully invested in whatever some guy in a ridiculous suit was rambling about, but my heart wasn’t in it. I could feel the absence of her. Could feel the weight of her not being here.

The evening dragged on, and despite the flattering attention I was getting, more than I knew what to do with, there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

I found myself standing near a group of women, effortlessly charming my way through another conversation, when I caught myself staring toward the entrance for the millionth time.

Nothing.

I sighed internally, feeling my excitement wane just a little.

But just as I turned back to my conversation, I caught a shift in the air. A presence.

And then I saw her.

Lilia Calderu, standing in the doorway like she owned the place, dressed in a simple but devastatingly effective black dress, nothing overly elegant, just effortlessly put together, the fabric skimming her figure in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her dark curls were loosely pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and those brown eyes of hers scanned the room with sharp intent, missing nothing.

My heart stopped.

She looked... incredible.

Her gaze locked onto me almost instantly, and I saw the way her eyes flickered over my dress, my posture, the easy way I was leaning against the table with a glass of champagne in hand and a smile that may have been a little too smug.

For a second, I thought she might turn around and leave, but instead, she walked in with the kind of calm, deliberate grace that made my stomach twist into knots.

Agatha, appearing by my side out of nowhere, whispered, “And there she is.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I thought she wasn’t coming.”

Agatha smirked. “She didn’t think she was coming. But then she realised she couldn’t let you have all the fun without her.”

I watched as Lilia made her way through the crowd, her expression unreadable, but her eyes, her eyes, never left me.

I forced myself to smirk, turning back to the group I was talking to, making a show of tossing my hair over my shoulder and laughing lightly at something someone said. But my heart was pounding.

Lilia Calderu was here. And she was watching me.

Game on.

I took a slow sip of my champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue as I kept my posture relaxed, my smile effortlessly charming. I could feel her gaze burning into me from across the room, sharp and assessing, but I didn’t look her way, not yet.

If she wanted to watch, I’d give her a damn show.

“So, y/n,” the woman beside me purred, leaning in just a little too close. “You never told me what you do for a living.”

I smiled, tilting my head coyly. “Oh, you know... a little bit of everything,” I said smoothly, trailing a finger along the rim of my glass. “Keeps life interesting.”

I swore I could hear Lilia’s scoff from across the room, and it took everything in me not to grin.

Agatha, who was lingering nearby, nudged me under the table with her foot. “Subtle,” she whispered, her tone practically dripping with glee. “She’s watching you like a hawk.”

I shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “Let her.”

I felt her familiar presence before I even saw her. Lilia’s energy was intense, heavy and magnetic, drawing people in without her even trying. And then, just as I was laughing at something unremarkable, I saw her appear at the edge of my vision, standing beside the group with her arms crossed, a neutral expression on her face.

But her eyes? Her eyes told an entirely different story.

They flicked from the woman leaning too close to me, to my lips, and then, finally, locked onto mine.

I arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Lilia,” I greeted, taking another slow sip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into that maddeningly subtle smirk. “Neither did I.”

Agatha, not missing a beat, grinned and chimed in. “Lilia! Finally decided to join the fun?”

Lilia’s gaze didn’t leave mine as she responded, “I suppose someone had to keep an eye on y/n.”

“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine on my own,” I shot back, playful but pointed.

Lilia’s lips twitched. “So I see.” Her gaze dragged over me, slowly, taking in every inch of my dress, my posture, the way I was standing just close enough to the woman next to me to imply interest.

I held her gaze, my heart racing. “You know, you could’ve just stayed home,” I teased, my voice dropping just a bit. “No need to check up on me.”

Lilia stepped closer, leaning in just enough that I could catch the faint scent of her perfume. “Maybe I just wanted to watch?”

I swallowed, my bravado slipping just slightly.

Agatha, watching the exchange like it was the best thing to ever happen to her, nudged me again and whispered, just for me to hear, “You’re losing, babe.”

I straightened up, regaining my composure, and smirked at Lilia. “Well, since you’re here... maybe I should introduce you to some people.” I gestured to the woman beside me, who looked suddenly very interested in this new development. “This is—”

But before I could finish, Lilia reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering a second too long. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Enjoy yourself, baby,” she murmured, her voice low and full of something I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t let me stop you.”

And with that, she stepped back, leaving me absolutely reeling.

Agatha burst into laughter. “Oh my God, she is so playing you.”

I clenched my jaw, staring at Lilia’s retreating figure as she casually wandered toward the bar, looking as cool and composed as ever.

Oh, hell no.

I was not about to let Lilia Calderu waltz in here, throw me off my game with a well-timed smirk and a touch that lingered just enough to make my brain short-circuit. If she thought she could walk away with the upper hand, she had another thing coming.

I plastered on my best grin and turned back to the woman next to me, who was still watching the whole exchange with keen interest. “Sorry about that,” I said smoothly, letting my fingers graze lightly over the rim of my glass. “Old friend.”

Lilia, who had just reached the bar, tilted her head slightly at my words, clearly listening in.

The woman smiled, intrigued. “Old friends who stare at you like they’d rather eat you alive?”

I laughed, but it wasn’t entirely fake. “She’s... complicated.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lilia's shoulders tense slightly. Gotcha.

Agatha, still lingering with a devilish glint in her eye, whispered in my ear, “Atta girl. Make her work for it.”

With renewed confidence, I turned my full attention to my current company, leaning in just enough to make it seem like I was entirely absorbed in our conversation. I laughed at all the right moments, let my hand casually brush against hers, and even threw in a little coy lip bite for good measure.

And Lilia saw every second of it.

I could practically feel her eyes on me, dark and heavy, her carefully composed façade slipping by degrees.

When I dared a glance her way, I caught her watching with that unreadable expression, cool, detached, but with a flicker of something darker beneath. Jealousy? Annoyance? I wasn’t sure, but I liked it.

Still, she didn’t approach.

Fine. If she wanted to play it that way, I’d push a little harder.

I tilted my head back, laughing at something the woman said, making sure my posture screamed confidence, my neck arched just enough to be noticeable. And then, as casually as I could manage, I said loudly enough for Lilia to hear, “You know, I was a little nervous about coming tonight, but... I think I’m really enjoying myself.”

From across the room, I saw Lilia’s grip tighten around her glass.

Agatha, ever the enabler, had appeared at the bar, bit back a grin and leaned against the bar near Lilia. “So, Lilia,” she said innocently, “what brings you here tonight? Surely not jealousy?”

Lilia’s eyes flickered with something sharp, but she simply took a sip of her drink, her voice smooth as silk. “Just making sure y/n doesn’t get herself into too much trouble.”

“Oh, I think she’s handling herself just fine,” Agatha teased, shooting me a wink.

I smirked, running a hand down my hip and throwing Lilia a pointed glance before turning back to my conversation.

But before I could say another word, Lilia appeared at my side, moving silently and suddenly. Her presence was commanding, and I felt it in every nerve of my body.

“Y/n,” she said smoothly, her voice velvety and low. “A word?”

The woman next to me raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” she said, clearly amused. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding, but I kept my smirk firmly in place. “Of course, Lilia.”

She led me away from the crowd, her hand resting lightly on my lower back, just enough to own the situation, just enough to remind me exactly who I was dealing with.

Once we were in a quieter corner, she turned to face me, crossing her arms and raising a brow. “Having fun?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “I was.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but her gaze sharpened, laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “You’re walking a fine line, baby.”

I tilted my head, stepping closer, pushing just enough. “Maybe I like the edge.”

Her eyes darkened, and for the first time all night, I wondered if I’d pushed too far. But instead of pulling away, she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, sending shivers straight down my spine.

“Careful,” she murmured, voice low and dangerously smooth. “You might find yourself wanting something you can’t have.”

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my cool. “Maybe I’m tired of waiting.”

Lilia’s expression remained unreadable, her head tilting just slightly.  “Getting ahead of yourself, baby.”

I exhaled sharply, biting back the urge to roll my eyes. “And you love dragging this out, don’t you?”

She made a soft, thoughtful sound, her gaze sweeping over me like she was deciding just how much she wanted to let me have. “Mmm. Maybe. Or maybe you’re seeing something that isn’t there.”

Heat curled in my stomach, frustration and want tangled together, her eyes flicked down to my lips for half a second, just long enough for me to notice, but before I could say anything, she let out a slow, almost teasing sigh and stepped back, putting space between us. “Go on, baby. Enjoy your night.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me reeling.

Agatha appeared at my side almost immediately. “So... that looked intense.”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. “I think I might be losing.”

And honestly? I didn’t want to play this game anymore.

Agatha grinned. “No, babe. You’re both losing.”

I groaned. “Great.”

I huffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest as I watched Lilia disappear back into the crowd with that same frustrating grace she always carried. I turned to Agatha, my lips pursed in irritation. “You know what? I don’t want to do this matchmaking thing.”

Agatha, ever perceptive, didn’t even argue. She just sipped her drink and gave me a knowing nod. “Of course, no problem.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smirked, leaning against the bar. “I know when you’ve had enough, y/n. And right now, you look like you're two seconds away from murdering someone.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on me. “Yeah, I think I just... I need to go home.”

Agatha nodded, patting my arm. “Good call. Go home, take a bubble bath, and—”

“Eat my feelings?”

Agatha grinned. “Exactly.”

I gave her a small smile, grateful she wasn’t pushing. “Thanks, Aggie.”

She winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll gossip later.”

I nodded, weaving my way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances and the lingering presence of Lilia somewhere in the room.

By the time I stepped outside, the cool night air hit my skin, and I let out a long breath. The tension that had been building inside me all evening eased slightly, but the frustration was still simmering beneath the surface.

Because despite everything, the flirting, the teasing, the stupid mixed signals, Lilia still managed to keep me at arm's length. And I was tired of playing the waiting game.

As I made my way home, heels clicking against the pavement, I couldn't help but feel like I had just walked away from a fight I wasn't even sure I wanted to win anymore.

I made it home, kicking off my heels the second I stepped through the door. The silence of my apartment felt jarring after the noise and chaos of the event, but it was exactly what I needed. No prying eyes, no teasing coven, and most importantly, no Lilia.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one go. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, leaving me feeling tired, annoyed, and... a little disappointed.

The evening had started off fun, with the whole “make Lilia jealous” plan in full swing. But somewhere along the way, it had stopped being about teasing her and started feeling like something else. Something heavier.

I wanted her to chase me. I wanted her to want me.

But instead, she just kept pulling back, staying in that frustrating space of almost.

I flopped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts spiral.

Maybe she really doesn’t feel the same way.

Maybe the age gap is too much for her.

Maybe I’m just a fun distraction to her.

I groaned, tossing a pillow over my face. “Ugh, stupid.”

Just as I was debating whether to text Agatha and unload my feelings, my phone buzzed against my thigh.

I grabbed it, half expecting it to be one of my friends checking in, but my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Lilia.

I stared at it for a beat, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Was she going to scold me for leaving early? Check on me? Or just... toy with me some more?

Taking a deep breath, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”

There was a pause, then Lilia’s voice, soft and measured. “You left.”

I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Yeah, I did. I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

Another pause. “I see.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you call just to state the obvious, Lilia?”

She hummed, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “Maybe.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Lilia.”

She sighed, and for a moment, I thought she might actually say something real. But then—

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

My heart did that stupid little flutter thing, but I pushed it down, forcing a casual tone. “I’m fine. I always am.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a second, I thought maybe she’d hung up. But then—

“I shouldn’t have encouraged you to go,” she admitted quietly.

I swallowed, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. “Why did you?”

She didn’t answer right away, and when she did, it was softer than I expected. “Because I wanted to see what you’d do.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling frustration bubble up again. “And? Did you enjoy the show?”

Lilia exhaled, something close to a chuckle, but there was an edge to it. “More than I should have.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Another pause. “So I’ve been told.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Go to bed, Lilia.”

“You too, baby,” she murmured, and before I could come up with a snarky response, the call ended.

My heart pounding, frustration and something else, something deeper, swirling in my chest.

I stared at my phone for all of ten seconds before I muttered, "No, fuck this." Without thinking any further, I tapped Lilia’s number and called her back.

She answered almost immediately, her voice a little softer, maybe a little surprised. “y/n?”

“You’re confusing,” I blurted out, pacing back and forth in my living room, frustration bubbling over. “You are so confusing, Lilia.”

Silence.

I didn’t care, I was on a roll now. “You flirt with me, you pull away, you get all soft and caring, and then you act like none of it happened. And I keep trying to play it cool, keep waiting for you to make up your damn mind, but you never do.”

She didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t stopping.

“And fuck you and this whole age gap excuse, because that’s what it is now, Lilia. It’s an excuse. You keep telling yourself that’s the problem, but it’s not. You flirt with me, you want me, and then you shut me out like it never happened. I’m tired, Lilia. I’m so tired.”

I paused, breathing hard, and then it hit me. My eyes widened as I blurted, “And you never even gave me my underwear back!”

I was hysterical. 

I could hear Lilia inhale sharply on the other end, and for a second, I thought she might say something, anything. But all I got was silence.

And that silence was worse than if she’d yelled at me.

I swallowed hard, my anger deflating into something... heavier. More raw. My voice softened, and I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling the weight of it settle in my chest. “I shouldn’t be yelling at you.”

Still, she said nothing, and it was starting to hurt more than I thought it could.

I took a shaky breath. “I’m done, Lilia. I can’t take any more.” My throat tightened, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “It hurts too much.”

For a long moment, there was only the sound of my breathing and the faint static of the line. Then, finally, Lilia’s voice came through, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Y/n...”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Don’t.”

Another pause. Then she sighed, long and slow, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well... you did.”

Silence again, and I could almost imagine her, standing in her shop, looking down at the floor with that troubled frown she always wore when she was thinking too hard.

After another beat, she said, “I—” but she cut herself off, like she couldn’t finish the sentence.

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. “Lilia, I can’t do this anymore. Not unless you actually want me. Not unless you’re willing to admit it.”

There was a pause. Then, finally, so quietly it nearly shattered me, she said, “I do.”

I froze, my heart slamming in my chest. “What?”

“I do,” Lilia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I didn’t know how to.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

There was a long silence before she finally admitted, “Because I’m scared.”

I felt something shift inside me, my anger melting into something softer. “Scared of what?”

Lilia sighed again, and this time, she sounded... tired. Vulnerable. “Of how much I want you.”

My lips parted, my throat suddenly dry. “Then stop running,” I said softly. “Please, Lilia. Just... stop.”

She was quiet for another long moment, and then— “Come over.”

My breath hitched. “What?”

“Come over,” she said again, a little stronger this time. “Now.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding. “Lilia, are you sure—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “Please.”

And just like that, I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed my coat, shoved my feet into my shoes, and bolted out the door, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. The night air was cool against my skin, but I barely registered it, I was too focused on getting to Lilia.

The drive to her shop felt endless, every red light an eternity, every turn slower than I wanted. My fingers tapped anxiously against the wheel, my thoughts racing.

She admitted it.

She finally admitted it.

But what did that mean? What was waiting for me when I got there?

By the time I pulled up outside her shop, I was a mess of nerves, my stomach churning with anticipation and something I couldn’t quite name. I parked and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to collect myself.

Come over, she’d said. Not “we need to talk,” not “I need to explain.” Just... come over.

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. The street was quiet this time of night, the shop windows dark except for the faint glow of a single light inside.

I knocked, and almost immediately, the door creaked open.

Lilia stood there, looking... different. Her usual confidence wasn’t as sharp around the edges tonight. Her hair was loose, curling naturally around her face, and she had changed into casual wear, soft sweater and leggings, barefoot.

Her dark eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

I exhaled shakily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied softly, stepping aside to let me in.

The familiar scent of her shop, incense, old books, and something distinctly her washed over me as I walked inside. She closed the door behind me, and the quiet settled around us like a heavy weight.

I turned to face her, my heart still racing. “I meant what I said, Lilia. I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. “I know, baby.”

The sound of her calling me that made my knees weak.

I swallowed. “Then why—”

Lilia took a slow step forward, her eyes locked onto mine. “Because I’ve spent a long time being careful, y/n. Too careful.”

I didn’t move, didn’t speak. I just let her talk.

“I told myself I couldn’t do this,” she continued, her voice quiet but sure. “That you deserved someone... younger. Someone with fewer complications. Someone who wouldn’t keep you waiting.”

I blinked, my throat tightening. “Lilia...”

She stepped closer, and this time, she reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over my wrist. “But you’re right. The age gap, the excuses... they’re just that. Excuses.”

I felt something break inside me, my breath hitching. “Then stop making them.”

Lilia looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the struggle in her eyes, the hesitation, the longing, the fear. But then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she cupped my face in her hands, her thumb grazing lightly over my cheek.

“I’m done,” she whispered. “No more excuses.”

I barely had time to react before she kissed me.

Soft at first, hesitant, but then I melted into it, my hands gripping her waist as I kissed her back with everything I’d been holding in for weeks, months.

Lilia pressed closer, her body warm against mine, and I felt her exhale shakily into my mouth, like she was finally letting go of all the barriers she’d built between us. Like she wanted this just as badly as I did.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead resting against hers. “Took you long enough,” I whispered, my lips curling into a smile.

Lilia chuckled, her fingers still ghosting over my jaw, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I know, baby. I know.”

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally breathe.

But Lilia barely gives me a second to recover before she’s grabbing my hand and pulling me through the shop, her grip firm, her steps hurried, almost reckless. I can barely keep up, my heart racing, my body already aching for her before we even make it to her bedroom.

And then I’m there, being pushed back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath me as I look up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly.

She’s standing over me, eyes dark and burning with something dangerous, something I’ve been craving for so long. 

I moan, unabashedly, because fuck, she’s so hot.  The way she looks at me like she’s about to devour me whole, like she’s going to ruin me, like I’m something she’s been starving for.

And then she starts stripping, slowly, painfully slow, slowly, deliberately, eyes locked onto mine the entire time. Teasing me with every inch of skin she reveals. She peels her sweater over her head, her curls tumbling loose, and I watch, breathless, as she undoes the clasp of her bra with deliberate precision, letting it fall to the floor, her smirk growing the longer I stare. Her hands move lower, hooking into the waistband of her leggings, sliding them down her hips with an agonising pace. She steps out of them with ease. My pulse pounds in my ears as she takes her time, dragging it out, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me, letting the last of her clothes slip from her body until she’s completely bare, standing before me in nothing but those dark eyes and the wicked smirk playing on her lips, and I’m left staring, aching.  

I can’t take it.

I stand up, lurch forward, hands reaching for her, closing the space between us, my hands immediately on her body, kissing every inch of skin I can reach her collarbone, her shoulders, the curve of her neck. My hands roam over her bare back, pressing her closer, needing to feel her. My teeth scrape over the pulse hammering at her throat, and I hear her breath hitch.

Lilia moans, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me even closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off her. I trail kisses down, across her chest, down her stomach, dragging my nails lightly, down her ribs just to make her gasp, desperate to taste her, to make up for all the time we’ve wasted.

I want her. I want to wreck her, hear her fall apart beneath me.

But Lilia has other plans.

With a low growl, she shoves me back onto the bed, straddling me before I can even react. Her body pins mine against the mattress, a delicious weight that has me gasping. She tugs my dress up, her hands rough and impatient as she drags it over my head and tosses it aside. A shiver runs through me as her fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, and without thinking, my hips lift to help her slip them off.

And then she does the same to me. Lilia’s lips are everywhere, hot, demanding, claiming me in a way that’s anything but soft. It’s hard, it’s raw, it’s pent up tension that’s been building for weeks, and it’s so damn good, and I can feel it in every press of her teeth, every bite of her nails against my thighs.

She kisses me like she’s making up for lost time, her hands gripping my hips tightly, grinding down against me, slow and deliberate, teasing me with the friction, with enough force to leave bruises in the morning. My nails rake down her back, desperate, needy, and she loves it, moaning into my mouth as she deepens the kiss.

We don’t stop.

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing, just heat and need and the overwhelming feeling of finally having what we both wanted.

I gasp as Lilia's hands roam lower, her touch possessive, her mouth following her hands, unrelenting, claiming every inch of me. She grips my thighs, spreading me open, pressing teasing kisses along my inner thigh, slow, deliberate, making me squirm.

She pauses just above where I need her, her breath warm against me, teasing, torturous. And when she finally looks up at me, her lips just barely brushing my skin, her eyes are dark, lips slick, pupils blown wide with hunger. She smirks.

“Took me long enough, huh?” she murmurs against my skin.

I can’t even answer, just nod breathlessly.

Lilia’s mouth is on me before I can even process it, her hands pressing my thighs apart with a hunger that makes my head spin. She doesn’t tease. She doesn’t drag it out. She takes. 

She devours me like she’s starving, like she’s been holding back for too long and refuses to do it a second longer. Her tongue moves with precision, slow at first, savoring, before she licks deeper, pressing her mouth against me with a hunger that has my head spinning. She flicks her tongue, dragging it over me just right, and I sob, my body jerking beneath her. 

Her fingers slide through slick heat, teasing, testing, until—

I gasp, my back arching off the bed as she pushes in, stretching me, filling me in a way that has me gasping for air.

She’s ruthless, curling her fingers just right, stroking deep, pushing, pulling, setting a pace that leaves no room for mercy.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me, baby?” she moans against me, the vibrations sending a shiver up my spine. Her fingers don’t slow, thrusting into me hard, fast, each stroke deliberate and punishing. “The things I’ve thought about... every time you walked into the shop in those little skirts, every time you teased me?”

I whimper, my hands clutching the sheets, head thrown back in pure bliss.

She bites the inside of my thigh, and I cry out. “Those panties you left behind,” she breathes, her voice thick with lust, “I couldn’t stop thinking about them. About you. About what it’d feel like to have you.”

A desperate moan rips from my throat, my body trembling under her touch. “Lilia... please.” My hips lifting, chasing her, needing more. She hums, low and indulgent, before finally sliding another finger inside me, stretching me open, pushing deeper, pressing her palm against me just enough to make me whine. My hands clutch at the sheets, my body burning, every nerve ending sparking.

“I should’ve done this sooner,” her tongue circling me in slow, teasing strokes, drawing me apart piece by piece. “Had you like this ages ago. Been wanting to hear these sounds from you for weeks”

Her fingers press against that perfect spot inside me, and I choke out a sob.

She licks deeper, pressing her tongue flat against me before sucking lightly, and I jerk, crying out.

“Want to hear you cum for me,” Lilia purrs, her voice dark and commanding,  before she sucks harder, her fingers thrusting into me faster, curling deep, coaxing me higher. “Come on, baby. Let me hear it.”

And I do.

The pleasure crashes through me like a tidal wave, my body shaking, moaning her name over and over as I fall apart beneath her touch. Lilia doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until I’m completely wrecked, panting, and twitching from the aftershocks.

She finally pulls back, pressing a final, lingering kiss against me, her breath warm and heavy.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to my stomach, her voice full of praise that makes me shiver all over again. “You did so well for me.”

I can barely respond, my limbs boneless, my mind hazy. But I know one thing for sure, I want more.

It takes me a moment to come back down, my body still trembling, my breaths ragged and uneven. Lilia watches me with dark, satisfied eyes, her smirk smug and dripping with confidence. Her fingers still teasing lazy circles on my thigh like she’s enjoying the way I twitch under her touch.

But I’m not done with her, not by a long shot.

Before she can even process it, I flip us over, pressing her into the mattress with a wicked grin. Her eyes widen, but there’s no surprise, just anticipation, hunger.

“Fuck.” The word comes out in a breath, barely a sound, but enough for her to hear.

She hums, amused, her nails skimming over my arms as if daring me to continue.

My fingers trail lower, slipping between her thighs, and I pause, my breath catching as I feel how absolutely soaked she is. The realisation sends a shiver through me, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

I pull back slightly, looking at her properly now, taking in the way her lips are parted, her pupils blown wide, her body already straining toward me.

“Oh,” I breathe, teasing my fingers against her, dragging them slowly to feel every bit of her need. “You don’t need any help, do you?”

Lilia’s breath hitches, her hips twitching beneath my touch, but she doesn’t answer, just watches me with dark, half-lidded eyes, her lips parted in anticipation. Fixes me with a look that makes my stomach flip.

It’s daring. A challenge. Like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

“Fuck,” I say again, letting out another slow breath, pressing a little firmer, feeling how she responds so easily. “You really have been waiting for this,” I murmur, my voice dark, satisfied. “Haven’t you?”

She parts her lips to respond, but I don’t give her the chance.

I sink my fingers into her, slow at first, teasing, stretching her open, feeling the way her body clenches around me. 

And then I push in deeper, hard, and she gasps, her back arching, her fingers digging into my shoulders..

I don’t go slow. I don’t tease. I take her hard and rough, my fingers moving with purpose, curling inside her in a way that has her moaning instantly.

Lilia’s hands grasp at my shoulders, her nails scratching, dragging down my back, and I lower my mouth to her breasts, sucking one of her nipples between my lips. I swirl my tongue around it, biting down just enough to make her cry out, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, y/n,” she moans, her hips bucking up against my hand, her thighs trembling around me.

I smirk against her skin, flicking my tongue over the hardened peak before moving to the other, lavishing it with the same rough attention while my fingers pump into her relentlessly.

She’s so wet, so tight around my fingers, and it doesn’t take much before I feel her start to tighten around me, her walls fluttering, her breath coming out in broken gasps.

“So, you’ve been thinking about this for a while, huh?” I murmur against her chest, my voice dripping with satisfaction. “Thinking about how I’d feel inside you?”

She groans, her back arching as she gasps, “Yes... yes... fuck.”

I grin wickedly, increasing the pace, curling my fingers just right until she’s on the edge, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. “Come on, Lilia,” I whisper against her skin, sucking hard on her nipple as I thrust into her with delicious precision. 

“Let me hear you.”

And she does.

Lilia spasms around me, her moan breaking apart into something raw and desperate, her entire body trembling beneath me as she comes undone, gasping my name like it’s the only thing she knows.

I watch her fall apart, mesmerised, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every sharp intake of breath, and it’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen. 

My fingers slow, riding out her high as I press soft kisses along her collarbone.

Her breathing is ragged, a deep flush crawling up her chest, sweat slicking her skin, and she lets out a soft, breathy laugh, pulling me against her, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I should hate how smug you look right now,” she murmurs, voice thick and shaky.

I smirk, kissing along her jaw. “You love it.”

She hums, her lips ghosting over my temple as her breath steadies, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. 

After the intensity of it all, after the heat, the moans, and the desperate need finally sated, we collapse into the sheets, bodies still humming with the aftershocks.

Lilia sighs softly against my hair,  her arm draped lazily over my waist, her chest rising and falling steadily beneath me, and I feel her hand lazily tracing circles on my back. 

I shift slightly, my leg sliding between hers, my fingers still ghosting over her skin, unable to stop touching her even in the aftermath.

Her skin is warm, still damp from sweat, her breathing slow and steady.

“Comfortable?” she murmurs, voice low and raspy, and I can hear the lingering amusement in it.

I nuzzle against her neck, pressing a lazy kiss to her collarbone. “Very.” My voice is heavy with sleep, and I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, but I don’t want to move. “You?”

She hums, her lips pressing against my temple in a slow, lingering kiss. “Mm. I could get used to this.”

My heart stutters at that, but I don’t say anything, just smile against her skin, letting myself bask in the warmth of her.

Minutes pass, maybe hours, time feels irrelevant when I’m wrapped around her like this. Lilia strokes her fingers through my hair absentmindedly, and I can feel her breathing slowing, the tension that always seems to cling to her finally easing away.

I sigh, letting my eyes flutter shut, my body melting against hers. “Don’t retreat in the morning,” I mumble sleepily, barely coherent, but needing to say it.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I won’t, baby.”

And that’s enough for me. With her promise lingering in the air between us, I drift off, feeling safe, sated, and completely tangled in her. Tangled in her warmth, in her scent, in the quiet hum of her presence.

[dominiquelucalover]

I saw the playlist idea and I'm intrigued, 400 for Luca or Tan, I don't know if you write for Tan. I'm really excited to see what your idea is.

Stay In My Memories | Victor Tan x Reader

Summary: Being a detective in the LAPD was hard enough as is, what with the ghosts of cases haunting you for years. However, you didn't expect to be haunted by the living as well.

Song: Memories - Conan Gray | Game Link

CW: angst, detective!reader, drug dealing, theft, mentioned murder, violence, guns, blood, illusions to sex, MDNI.

Not proofread. Honestly, I don't know how I feel about this but I hope it's okay.

Your job came first and foremost no matter what. It didn't matter what your family said to you about settling down or your coworkers telling you to take it easy, that wasn't the life you led. No amount of pressure was going to break you, not from the job, the criminals you put away, or the mountains of paperwork. You got into police work for a reason and you would be damned if anything or anyone was going to take you away from that.

Though, there was one time when it could have happened. You could have settled down, could've had someone to go home to every night, could have taken fewer hours on the job to have what everyone else did - a family.

He was a part of the LAPD's Hollywood Division when you first met. Victor Tan. Your investigations bled into each other while you were hunting down a jewel thief and he a drug dealer selling to elite socialites. Somewhere in the mix, your jewels were replaced with his drugs. It was a wild ride, one that led to the two of you working together for several weeks, which ultimately led to you growing closer.

He was the only man you'd let into your life in a long time. It started with jokes and laughs, then progressed into getting drinks together, which led to you laying in bed together. As your naked bodies met and took each inch of one another in, you swore to yourself to not fall for him. A promise you couldn't keep.

It ended just before he made it into S.W.A.T. and you didn't cry about it. It was an amicable split, at least that was what you told yourself. You went home feeling a little more empty every day, so you threw yourself into your work. You took on more case loads, stayed late hours to finish paperwork, and even dipped your toe into cold cases. Anything to keep your mind off of Victor.

He was nothing more than a memory. Or at least that was what it was supposed to be.

Your paths crossed again, years later, when you led an investigation to a warehouse that was laced with traps. You called in S.W.A.T. having forgotten about your ex-lover until he showed up in the suped up truck with his teammates.

When he saw you, his name left his lips with surprise. "I thought this was a homicide case."

You looked at him, arms crossed over your chest, "I've moved my way up. You're not the only one that was destined for greater things."

His team could feel the awkward tension between the two of you, but you brushed it off a lot faster than he did. You explained the situation to the team, telling them who you were dealing with and what the suspect had done to lend him in this much trouble. Inside was an artillery turret set off by motion sensors. Needless to say, this guy was smart and you needed the big guns to breach his hideout for you.

Once a plan was set up, everything happened so fast. S.W.A.T. entered the warehouse, covering all the exits, and making a break o shut off the turret. The capture of your suspect was a little trickier though and once you heard more gunfire, you rushed in without a second thought. You had brought Victor and his team here, you'd be damned if you were the reason he or any one of them left in a body bag.

The team was separated and your suspect was on the run. You cut him off down a narrow hallway and followed him upstairs to the overhead catwalk. You heard a voice behind you call out your name, but you ignore him. You had your eyes set on one person. Unfortunately, he was expecting you.

He turned back and knocked your gun from your hand, prompting you to fight for his. You struggled with him and eventually got yhe gun out of his hand; it slid across the catwalk a few feet. He punched you in the face, trying to get you to let go of him, only to grab you and knee you in the stomach, but your bulletproof vest helped to protect you. He managed to push you off of him and you stumbled over the railing, catching yourself before you could fall. He made his way for his gun and you could only watch.

He was cornered with two S.W.A.T. officers on eother side of the catwalk, and like the caged animal he was, he fought back. He lifted the gun to shoot and got shot in the chest. He dropped his gun and it fell over the edge as he bled.

Once he was down, Victor ran to you. He pulled you up to safety and you threw your arms around him, trembling. Your face hurt, your vision was beginning to blur, and you needed an anchor. He held you, got you up onto your feet, and walked you off of the catwalk. "You're okay," he kept repeating. "We got him."

After getting patched up by the EMTs, you were released to your Sargent, who was unhappy with your actions. You were in no mood to argue and said you were gone a go home soon, and started for your squad car. Except your eye was swollen and you couldn't see very well, so when you pulled out the keys, they were promptly swiped from your hand.

You turned to yell at whoever was policing your ability to drive, but the words caught in your throat as you came face to face with Victor. You stared at each other for a moment before he said, "Let me drive you home."

There was no questions in his tone. His sincerity was clear but you were apprehensive to accept. However, wordlessly, you did.

It hurt you when he sat you down to talk about the future, about S.W.A.T., about what the two of you were and weren't. A part of you didn't want to remember that night but as you sat in the passenger seat, it was all you could think of. You had spent the better half of your days without him trying to forget he existed. That hurt too, but you never admitted it. You never showed him that.

When you got to your place, he walked you to the door. It was qiluiet, getting late, and you should have been tired. After the day you had, it was expected, but your heart was still thumping rapidly in your chest. You turned to Victor, wondering why you couldn't just talk to each other like normal people, and you nodded to him gently.

"Thanks," you said and unlocked the door.

As you walked over the threshold, he said your name and your turned to him. You stared at each other for a while and you knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway.

You kissed him and pulled him into your house. He led your through the rooms he remembered like the back of his hand, kicking the door shut behind him. He pressed you against the wall and pulled your legs up onto his hips, devouring your lips on a needy way that you could only give right back to him.

As his hands pulled your clothes off and your hands raked through his hair, the memories of your romance flooded your system and reignited your heart. It burned through your veins as you hooked your legs behind him. He carried you to your bedroom and laid you down, hands roaming your body like an expert. It was exactly as you remembered him and more, and all you hoped was that in the morning, perhaps, this wouldn't be just a memory.

[half-clothed-sister]

i always hated being alone. i tried everything i could. so many dates at so many places, i could barely afford to keep up with just a part time service job. and every date ended the same way. sometimes the second date, but mostly first dates it was the same story. 'we're just not clicking' 'i dont feel a connection' 'youre nice, but-' and so on. one bold girl even said 'i dont know, theres just something in your eyes that makes me uncomfortable'.

tw kidnapping

i decided it wasnt working, going about things this way. too many dates and still too much time by myself. just me, with my thoughts, as they progressively grew darker. i needed someone here with me. to talk to, to get my energy out with. i knew what i needed but i was scared to ask. so i didnt.

one day at work, i saw you. you were breathtaking, your clothes barely hiding your figure. and i saw that look in your eyes that i face in the mirror every day. emptiness. longing. i knew you needed someone as bad as i did. but i was past asking.

when you came to the checkout station i made sure to be the one scanning your items. i had a list memorised of small talk questions that would get me as much info as possible without arousing suspicion. 'new here? you dont look like a local' 'oh, moved for a job? what do you do?'.

by the time you were leaving with your bagged groceries i practically knew your schedule. so i started planning. for a time when you were tired from work, waiting at a bus stop. the one in between routes on some backroad with no streetlights.

chloroform is surprisingly difficult to get a hold of, but id put in my hours of due diligence. i parked a safe distance away, then crept in the bushes, careful not to make a sound. i hesitated for just a moment as i watched you sitting under a dingle dim dirty lightbulb the city public transport system had graciously given this stop.

had i seen what i thought i saw? would you really be okay with this? what was i doing? but i decided id come too far now. even if you didnt want it now i knew you would love me eventually.

faster than id ever done anything before, like id practiced, like i was born to do this, i darted up to you and had the drugged rag over your mouth and nose before you even looked up.

i saw the journey you took in your mind as i looked into your eyes for the second time. surprise. recognition. realization. panic. and under it all that same emptiness i knew i recognized. i knew then that no matter how much you fought, you wanted this as much as i did.

i was so much bigger than you. your weak struggles wouldnt be enough. i saw the lights go out and you slumped into me, so warm and soft. i was really touching a girl right now. a real girl. and all it took was a plan.

an unconscious body is surprisingly heavy, but i managed to get you back to my car as quickly as i had approached. once i had you there with me, i waited for my eyes to adjust to the pitch black. i had ropes and ties and tape, everything i needed to keep you quiet. keep you with me. i applied them generously making absolutely certain you would be comfortable, but unable to escape.

you would never leave me like the others. i wasnt going to be alone anymore. at last, i had you.

[goddessofroyalty]

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS JAYVIK!!CHILDHOOD FRIENDS JAYVIK!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS JAYVIK!!

I saw some cool art and now its your problem!!

(Not really, i hope im not bothering you)

By some circunstances baby Jace post show storm ends up in the last drop. Maybe he was kidnapped, maybe he got lost, you choose.

Zaundads have to take care of him while the find out how to send him home.

He and Viktor become best friends and promise to meet again in the academy.

Years later they meet again, Viktor isnt sure he will remember him but this himbo just screams "VIKTOR!" and hugs him in front of everyone because he doesn't give a single fuck.

He tells him about his hextech odea much earlier and they go to Silco. Jayce is still a bit scared but this was the guy who saved his ass when he was a child. Much to Silco's dismay.

Vander juat laugh in the background until Jayvik start helping her with her inventions...

(Never bothering me when sending me fun ideas)

The idea of them meeting up as children is such a cute one. Just the two boys being nerdy and sweet and getting so excited because they think the other is just the coolest and want to share all their things.

It is a bit funny the idea of Vanco not knowing how to send Jayce home considering Piltover is probably like an hour away and Jayce is old enough he should generally know where he lives. But maybe the Snowstorm is blowing over the two cities as well and it's bad enough to be "stay inside unless you absolutely have to go out" conditions and bad enough that they're not risking a trip over the bridge when the kid is safe enough inside the Last Drop with them.

Poor Ximena is so stressed about her missing son and meanwhile Jayce is having a great time with his new best friend Viktor who is showing Jayce the cool boat he built all by himself and how the taps in the Last Drop work.

Viktor telling Jayce (very quietly where Viktor's parents can't overhear) that he plans on going to the Academy in Piltover one day. Confessing that he's kind of nervous, not that he doesn't think he isn't smart enough but because he doesn't know anyone in Piltover. Jayce very excitedly correcting him about how he does know at least one person in Piltover now - Jayce. They will meet up once they both make it to the Academy and then Jayce can show Viktor his family's forge and the things he's working on.

The weather clears and Jayce is returned home and Viktor forces himself to forget the promise as he gets older. It was made by an over-excited child afterall. Jayce will surely have made other friends by now and won't want to be associated with someone from the Undercity. Which is fine - Viktor isn't going to the Academy to make friends he's going to learn so he can build the things Zaun needs.

And then he gets nearly bowled over by a fit goldern-skinned himbo as soon as he gets with Jayce's sight. Because Jayce is so excited to see him again (he did ask his mother if he could visit the boy in the Undercity but Ximena wasn't keen on travelling down there so he instead he had to wait all the years for Viktor to get to the academy).

Jayce absolutely shows Viktor his Hextech idea (only fair seeing Viktor showed him his boat all those years ago). And things progress a bit faster than they do in canon partially because Viktor's brains are involved as well but also because Jayce doesn't have go to through all the possibilities in Piltover before turning to Zaun for the (probably illegal) pieces he needs. As soon as it passes through Benzo's hands it's in Viktor's possession.

I think Silco finds it rediculous that this boy is still afraid of him all those years later. But it's also not a bad thing because he's less likely to try and exploit Silco's son.

Vander is more concerned about Jayce's influence on his daughters. In the sense to Jayce and Vi when combined together seem to come up with the dumbest ideas possible; and Jayce is helping Powder with her inventions (which are often explosive in nature) without really thinking through the fact he's helping a 10 year old build a bomb.

[brunchable]

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

Part Three | Five Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 6K Themes: Forbidden/Off-Limits Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Looking for her own answers, Y/N couldn't help but deviate from Bucky's original therapy plan. Steve takes interest at Y/N after bumping into her in the clinic, just before he and Bucky go out for a drink. A/N: Let the love triangle begin.

taggies: @astrelz @pattiemac1 @mrsevans90

Session 3

Bucky sat quietly on his side of the couch. He wasn’t really sure how to start off the session. He's almost certain they're going to talk about that list again. Then again, he couldn’t help but notice that something was a bit different this session. Though Y/N was in therapist mode—something he could never get used to, now—her posture seems a bit stiff.

He could sense it—something about the way she glanced up at him, the way she seemed a little too intent on keeping things professional. He shifted on the spot, trying to push away the thoughts creeping in from their last couple of run-ins outside the office.

“Not wanting to share today?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence as she scribbled something in her notebook. Her eyes flicked up, meeting his blue dilated ones.

Bucky shrugged. “Just... thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing worth talking about here.” 

Y/N studied him for a moment, before she glanced at his file. “Last week we talked about your amends list. How’s that been going?”

“It’s fine. Not much progress has been made, but it's fine.” Bucky exhaled slowly.

The sound of the ticking clock on the wall filled the space between them. For the first time, Y/N didn’t know how to even continue. She’s feeling a lot of pressure. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since their last session. Or maybe it was that nagging suspicion in the back of her mind.

She wasn’t supposed to pry, wasn’t supposed to deviate from the plan, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered. Could Bucky be the man she kissed at the party? Could he really be the one who’d left her heart racing that night?

She cleared her throat, glancing up at him. “And outside of the list? Your personal life... how’s that?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Y/N hesitated. This wasn’t part of the session’s plan, but the words were already tumbling out before she could stop herself.

“I mean, outside of the list. Your relationships... intimacy... things like that. Have you—have you been able to connect with people?”

Bucky’s expression darkened, but not in anger—more like curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Intimacy?”

Y/N stood, moving slowly from behind her desk as if pulled by an invisible thread, her body on autopilot. Bucky’s eyes followed her every step. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she stopped in front of him. Without a second thought she lowered herself onto his lap, her legs straddling him as she settled against him. 

Bucky didn’t flinch. He didn’t move, but his hands found her hips naturally, his grip firm, as if he had been waiting for this, too. His eyes, locked onto hers, but there was no confusion in them—only heat. Her heart raced, faster than she could keep up with, and her breath became shallow as her hands moved to rest on his shoulders. 

She hesitated for a brief second, scanning his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the softness in his lips, the intensity of his gaze—before leaning in. Her lips hovered over his, and she felt a spark. When they finally touched, it was soft at first, a hesitant exploration. But the second he kissed her back, it was as if all the tension, all the uncertainty that had been building between them, broke free.

His lips were warm, firm against hers—experienced more like, and the kiss deepened, igniting something inside her. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer, and her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently. She wanted more—needed more—and for a fleeting moment, she felt like she had found the answer she’d been searching for. 

She pulled back slightly, breathless, her forehead resting against his. "It was you, wasn't it?" she whispered, her lips brushing against his. "The man at the party..."

Bucky’s grip on her tightened, his voice low and rough. "Y/N—"

"Y/N?"

Bucky's voice, sharp and real, sliced through the haze. She blinked, reality crashing back in with brutal clarity. 

She wasn’t on his lap. She was still on the couch across from him, notebook clutched tightly in her hand, her knuckles white from the pressure. Her breathing was shallow, heart pounding in her chest. 

Bucky was watching her from his seat, head tilted, concern etched into his features while waving his hand to catch her attention.

"Y/N?" he repeated, voice soft but questioning. "Hello?"

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She blinked again, forcing the heat flooding her cheeks to disappear. It was a daydream... just a daydream, why did it feel so real?

She shifted in her seat trying to ease the heat she's feeling in her core, clearing her throat, trying to hide the fact that her hands were trembling. 

"Yeah, sorry, uh. .  " she muttered, quickly looking down at her notes, her mind racing to catch up. "Just... lost my train of thought."

The room felt smaller and though there was only Bucky's pair of eyes staring at her. She felt a dozen other ones, staring like the know what she just daydreamed about.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with regret. She shouldn’t have brought this up. This wasn’t part of their professional dynamic, but she couldn’t let it go. The thought of him—of whether or not he had been the man from the party—had been gnawing at her. . .badly.

“Anyways, yes—um intimacy, I mean... have you been able to—well, feel connected to anyone?”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He simply watched her, his blue eyes searching hers, as if he was trying to figure something out. 

“Why do you ask?” There was a subtle melody with the way Bucky said it.

Y/N swallowed, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s just... an important part of healing. Being able to open up, to trust someone.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slight smirk, though there was no humor in it. “Are we still talking about healing?”

“Yes. It’s—it’s part of it. . .” Y/N felt her face heat up, her grip tightening on the notebook in her lap. 

Bucky studied her for a long moment, then frowning. “You don’t seem convinced.”

“I’m just asking,” Y/N said quickly, her voice a little too defensive. She was starting to feel exposed, like Bucky could see right through her. This wasn’t about the session anymore, and they both knew it.

“I haven’t... been with anyone,” Bucky finally said, his tone more guarded now. “Not since... before everything happened. It’s not exactly easy when you’ve been turned into a killing machine.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. Her thoughts were spinning, and all she could think about was that night at the party—the kiss, the way he had held her so close. She needed to know. “And... do you want to be? With someone, I mean.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “Is that part of the therapy session?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t admit what she was really asking—she couldn’t let him know that she had been wondering if he was the man from that night. But she couldn’t stop herself from pushing.

“I think it’s important,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “To know what you want.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. “What do you think I want?”

She didn’t know. She couldn’t answer that. But something in the way he was looking at her made her question everything she had been telling herself.

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered, her voice unsteady. “I don’t know.”

The silence stretched between them again, thick and suffocating, and for the first time in their sessions, Y/N felt completely unmoored.

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he let out a quiet sigh. “You’re so much better than your mentor, you know that?”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing. “What do you mean?”

Bucky leaned forward again, his voice low. “You care. You’re not just asking because it’s part of your job. You’re asking because you actually care.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away. “Maybe.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I'll think about what I want, maybe we can talk about that in the next session.”

× × × ×

Y/N pushed open the door to the women’s bathroom, her footsteps echoing in the tiled room as she hurried inside. The moment the door swung shut behind her, she let out a long, shaky breath, the tension she had been holding in unraveling. She stepped over to the sink and braced her hands on the cold porcelain, her knuckles still tight and pale from the grip she’d held on her notebook moments before.

She dared to look up, eyes meeting her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed, cheeks stained pink, and her hair looked slightly disheveled from the way she had run her fingers through it during the session. But what caught her attention the most was the wide-eyed, almost haunted expression staring back at her.

What the hell was that? she thought, biting her bottom lip.

She straightened up, fingers dragging through her hair again, trying to smooth it down, but the action only made her frustration grow. Her mind spun in circles, replaying the daydream—the way she had straddled him, kissed him like she couldn’t get enough, like she needed to know. 

And in front of him. In front of Bucky.

She let out a small, strangled laugh, though it wasn’t funny at all. She had fantasized about him, for crying out loud—right there in the session, with him watching her the entire time. The worst part? He probably noticed something was off. He had seen her spacing out, seen the tension in her, seen... something. 

She groaned, pressing her hands to her face, trying to smother the memory, the heat creeping up her neck. 

What is wrong with me? she thought, her mind racing. I'm his therapist. He’s my patient. He’s been through hell, and I’m here thinking— She stopped herself, shaking her head. She wasn’t even supposed to think about her patients like that. It was unprofessional, completely out of line. 

But no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the image of Bucky—the feel of him, the intensity of his presence—clung to her like a shadow.

She paced for a moment, the sound of her footsteps reverberating in the quiet space, her fingers curling into her palms as she tried to steady herself. 

"This is ridiculous," she muttered to her reflection. "You’re a professional. You can’t be thinking these kinds of thoughts. Essentially about him."

Y/N leaned in closer to the mirror. Her whole body trembled with the weight of the existential crisis she was battling. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She wasn’t supposed to find someone like Bucky attractive, someone so complicated, so old? 

But she did.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, squeezing her eyes shut, willing herself to calm down. “Get it together, Y/N," she whispered. "You can’t do this. You can’t think like this. Don't be one of those ‘I can fix him’ type.”

But the truth was, the more she tried to push him away, the more his presence seemed to seep into her thoughts, her every waking moment. She wasn’t sure how to face him again without her heart racing and her mind betraying her.

With one last glance at her flushed, conflicted reflection, Y/N took a deep breath and turned toward the door. The existential crisis would have to wait—she had a job to do, and more importantly, she had to find a way to keep her mind off Bucky Barnes. 

Easier said than done, she thought, her stomach twisting with the weight of what had just happened.

Y/N took one final deep breath, bracing herself as she pushed open the bathroom door. The hallway outside seemed quieter than usual, but the mess inside her head was anything but. She needed to shake this off, to focus, to—

She wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was still swirling, and as soon as she stepped out, she collided with something solid. The sudden impact threw her off balance, and she gasped, her hand instinctively reaching for the wall, but before she could even register what had happened, strong arms caught her.

“Whoa, easy there.”

The voice was smooth and deep. Y/N’s heart lurched in her chest as she looked up to see Steve Rogers standing in front of her, his hands gently grabbing her arms to keep her steady before she could fall.

Her breath hitched, the embarrassment of her near fall mixing with the embarrassment of everything that had just gone through her head minutes ago. Of all the people she could have bumped into…

“Steve—I mean Captain?” she managed to breathe out, her voice shaky.

“Steve is fine, you okay?” He gave her a small smile, his grip still firm but gentle, making sure she was steady on her feet before he let her go. 

Y/N blinked up at him, her pulse still racing from the shock. “Yeah, sorry—I wasn’t looking where I was going,” she mumbled, trying to regain her composure, though the heat in her cheeks wasn’t helping. 

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly, concern flashing across his features. “You seemed a little out of it there.”

Great, she thought. Just what I need—Captain America catching me at my worst moment.

Y/N quickly straightened herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to act like her entire world hadn’t just been flipped upside down in the last twenty minutes. “I’ts nothing. Just... long day.”

Steve nodded, his blue eyes studying her carefully, but he didn’t press. He stepped back, giving her a bit more space, though the warmth from his hands still lingered on her arms.

“Well, I’m glad I was here. You almost took a dive there,” he teased lightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into that boyish smile of his.

She tried to return it, but the proximity to Steve wasn’t helping. First, she’d been daydreaming about Bucky, and now she was literally falling into Steve’s arms. Could this day get any worse?

“Thanks for the save,” she replied, fiddling with her necklace.

Steve’s smile softened, and for a second, he just looked at her, his gaze more thoughtful. 

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just… some stuff on my mind.”

Steve’s eyes lingered on her, as if he wasn’t quite convinced but wasn’t going to push her any further. 

“Alright,” he said finally, stepping back fully now. “Um. . .did Bucky leave already? He wasn’t replying to my texts.”

Y/N blinked at the mention of Bucky's name, her stomach doing a little flip. Of course, Steve was here for Bucky.

She nodded, trying to keep her voice steady.  “Yeah, he left a little while ago. I’m not sure where he went, though. He seemed… really keen to leave.”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together with concern. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly thinking. 

“That sounds like him,” he muttered under his breath, then looked back at her with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s been a bit off lately, but I guess you’ve noticed.”

Y/N forced a tight smile. "Yeah... something like that."

She had definitely noticed. After that therapy session, where she'd practically thrown professionalism out the window in her head, there was no way she could not notice Bucky. The way he looked at her now, the way his presence filled the room even when he wasn’t trying—everything about him had her all twisted up inside.

“Mind if I ask?” Steve’s voice cut through her internal monologue, pulling her attention back to him.

“Hmm?” she asked, blinking back into focus. “Ask what?”

Steve shifted his weight slightly, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit, she realized. 

“What’s on your mind? You seem... I don’t know, like you’ve got something weighing on you. If it’s something about Bucky or—”

“No!” Y/N blurted out a little too quickly.

“Steve.”

Y/N's heart thudded loudly in her chest as she turned slowly, her body stiffening at the sound of Bucky’s voice. Bucky was walking towards them, his figure tall and imposing. His presence always had a way of commanding attention, whether he meant to or not. And now, with him walking toward them, every nerve in her body seemed to be on high alert.

Steve offered a small smile, clearly relieved. “Buck, there you are. You weren’t answering my texts.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to Steve briefly, but then, almost immediately, they landed on Y/N. She could feel it, the weight of his gaze settling on her like a physical touch. Her stomach twisted, and her breath felt caught in her throat. She averted her eyes, focusing on the floor, the knot of tension tightening in her chest.

“I was busy,” Bucky replied.

Steve crossed his arms, glancing between the two of them. “Busy? You could’ve let me know. Thought you might’ve disappeared again.”

Y/N shifted on her feet, she could feel the awkwardness radiating off her in waves, and avoiding Bucky’s gaze was getting harder with every passing second. The memory of her daydream flashed through her mind—the way she had imagined being so close to him, the way her body had responded in ways it never should have. 

I can't do this right now, she thought desperately, her pulse quickening.

Bucky was silent for a moment, and Y/N could tell he was still looking at her, probably noticing how rigid she had become. She willed herself to move, to say something, but she felt trapped, her embarrassment from earlier still clawing at her.

Finally, Bucky spoke, his voice softer than before. “I wasn’t planning on disappearing. Just needed some air.”

Y/N could feel Steve glancing between the two of them, probably trying to figure out what exactly was going on. She swallowed hard, still refusing to meet Bucky’s eyes, and cleared her throat, trying to force herself back into the present.

“Well,” Y/N said quickly, her voice tight and shaky. “I’ve got... a few things to take care of. Nice seeing you both, again.”

She stepped back, her heart racing as she turned on her heel. She couldn’t stand there for another second. Not with the weight of Bucky’s gaze still burning into her, not with the reminder of her unprofessional thoughts swirling in her mind. It was too much.

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Her breath hitched, and she stood frozen for a second, her heart pounding so hard she was sure Steve and Bucky could hear it. She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Please, not now.

She didn’t turn around, not yet. She couldn’t bring herself to face him, not after everything that had happened in her head, not with the heat of her embarrassment still simmering under her skin.

But then, she forced herself to respond, her voice shaky and soft. “Yes?”

There was a brief pause, a beat too long, before Bucky spoke again. “You dropped this.”

Y/N frowned, confused, before glancing down at her hand—only to realize her notebook was missing. Of course. Her face flushed as she realized she must have left it in the therapy room, completely distracted by her own spiraling thoughts. She slowly turned around to find Bucky standing there, holding the small notebook in his hand, his expression unreadable.

“Right. Thanks,” she mumbled, walking back toward him, though every step felt heavier with the awkward tension that lingered between them.

As she reached out to take the notebook from him, her fingers brushed his, and she quickly pulled her hand back, feeling the heat rush to her face. Bucky’s eyes lingered on her for just a moment longer, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. She clutched the notebook tightly, taking a small step back.

“I, uh… appreciate it,” she said, her voice quiet.

“No problem,” Bucky replied, his tone casual.

“Nice meeting you again, Y/N.” Steve smiled.

She gave them both a quick nod, forcing a small, tight smile before turning on her heel once more, this time making sure she didn’t leave anything behind as she hurried away.

As Y/N disappeared around the corner, Steve’s gaze lingered a little too long, his brow furrowed in thought. Bucky, standing beside him, noticed the way Steve was still watching, and his jaw clenched tighter. 

After a moment of silence, Bucky finally spoke, his voice low and a bit sharper than he intended. “You’re staring, Steve.”

Steve blinked, tearing his eyes away from the hallway and glancing at Bucky, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Was I?”

Bucky gave him a pointed look, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, you were.”

Steve’s lips curved into a small smile, clearly unfazed. “Didn’t realize it,” he said lightly, though there was a teasing edge to his tone. “But now that you mention it, she is... easy to stare at. She looks very familiar now I see her up close, actually.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but his expression tightened. He could feel the tension creeping up his spine, and for some reason, hearing Steve say that only made it worse.

Steve, sensing the shift in Bucky’s mood, raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Hey, don’t get all worked up. Just saying what I see.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, trying to keep himself calm. “She’s my therapist.”

“Sure,” Steve replied, the teasing smile still on his face. “But don’t act like I’m the only one noticing.”

Bucky shot him a look, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Drop it.”

Steve chuckled, but he didn’t push further. “Alright, alright. Consider it dropped.”

Steve may have been teasing, but Bucky knew there was a kernel of truth in his words. And the fact that Steve had picked up on it only made things more complicated.

For the rest of the walk, Bucky couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him. He didn’t like how this was getting under his skin—how Y/N was getting under his skin. And now, with Steve’s attention on her too, it felt like everything was starting to blur in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

× × × ×

“Thanks for coming out, Buck,” Steve said, taking a sip of his beer.

Bucky shrugged, swirling his drink lazily before taking a sip. “Figured you could use the company.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here, huh?”

Bucky grunted, though his gaze wandered around the bar, his attention only half on the conversation. It was like he was avoiding something.

“So,” Steve started, deciding to dive in, “remember that girl?”

Bucky’s fingers tightened slightly around his glass, but his face stayed neutral as he raised an eyebrow. “The girl? Yeah, kinda hard to forget.”

Steve chuckled. “Sam’s been all over me about it. He thinks I should try to find her.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky asked, his voice smooth as ever, keeping the conversation light. “Sam’s full of great ideas, isn’t he?”

“He’s not wrong. I mean, until now it wont leave my head so there must be something about her, you know?” Steve laughed sheepishly.

Bucky smirked, taking another sip of his drink. “Different how? Did she float?”

Steve snorted. “No, smartass. It wasn’t like that. I don’t know... there was just something about her. I can’t explain it.”

Bucky hummed, feigning interest as he leaned back, his glass spinning lightly in his fingers. “Huh. Sounds like a case of party goggles. One kiss and now she’s stuck in your head forever?”

Steve shook his head, the smile fading a little. “Nah, it wasn’t like that. It’s just. . . I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”

Bucky nodded along like he was giving the whole thing serious thought. “Yeah, I get it. Girl shows up out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, then poof—vanishes into the night. Real fairytail stuff.”

Steve frowned, realizing Bucky was being more sarcastic than usual. “You don’t believe me?”

Bucky grinned. “Oh, I believe you. I just think maybe you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. You don’t even know her name, man.”

“That’s part of it,” Steve insisted, leaning in. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about her. There’s something there, something I’ve gotta figure out.”

Bucky tilted his head, letting out a slow whistle. “That deep, huh?”

Steve nodded. 

“Well,” Bucky shrugged, “you ever consider that maybe you’re chasing a ghost? People have a way of looking more perfect when they’re a mystery. Could just be the party messing with your head.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, watching Bucky closely. “You really don’t think I should try to find her?”

Bucky shrugged again, a casual grin on his lips. “I’m just saying, you can spend your life chasing down people you’ll never see again, or you can move on. It was a party. People dance, they move on.”

Steve studied Bucky for a moment, feeling like something was off but unable to pin it down. “You’re not telling me something.”

Bucky looked at him, his expression blank, and for a moment Steve thought he might be onto something. But then Bucky just leaned back in his chair and gave him an exaggerated look of confusion. “What, me? I told you, Steve. Party goggles. Happens to the best of us.”

Steve frowned, leaning back in his own seat. “You’ve been quiet since. You sure there’s nothing going on?”

Bucky gave him a slow, amused smile. “Me? Nah. I’m just enjoying the show. You chasing a mystery girl is way more fun than my life.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. 

Bucky gave a light chuckle, raising his glass. “Well, here’s to the hunt. Hope you find your princess, Cap.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but the smile returned. “Yeah, yeah.”

As they sat in silence for a moment, Steve’s mind continued to spin. There was something about Bucky’s tone that felt... off. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Anyway,” Steve said, breaking the silence, “thanks for listening.”

“Always here for a good mystery,” Bucky said with a wink, finishing his drink. “Just don’t expect me to go full detective with you. I’ve retired.”

Steve shook his head, smiling despite himself. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

The conversation turned to other things after that, more relaxed. But Bucky knew Steve wouldn’t drop the mystery girl anytime soon.

And Bucky? He wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

× × × ×

Y/N sat across from her father in the grand dining room, she tried to focus on his words, but her mind kept wandering. She nodded at the right moments, gave the expected responses, but her thoughts felt slippery, like trying to hold water in her hands.

Thaddeus’s words faded in and out, and at one point, Y/N realized with a start that she hadn’t been listening to him for the last several minutes. She blinked, trying to recall what he had just said, but her mind was blank.

"Y/N?" her father asked, his sharp voice breaking through her daze. "Did you hear what I said?"

Her heart jumped in her chest, and she forced herself to nod. "Yes. Sorry, just... distracted."

Thaddeus narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not buying her excuse. "You seem more than distracted."

Y/N quickly shook her head. "No, I’m fine. Really.”

Thaddeus cleared his throat, setting his fork down with a sense of authority. “We need to talk about the event next month.”

Y/N glanced up from her plate, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “Mhm, go on.”

Thaddeus nodded, his face serious. “Yes. In a month’s time, the world will know who you are. The Ross family will finally be complete in the public eye.”

Y/N let out a short, almost bitter laugh. “Family? It’s just you and me, Dad. Doesn’t really scream ‘family’ to me.”

Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed slightly at her comment, “This is about perception, Y/N. The country needs to see that I have a family standing behind me. Strong, united.”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling humorlessly. “You’ve kept me hidden for years, and now you want to play the ‘family man’ for the cameras?”

Thaddeus’s face hardened. “It's necessary. The public needs to see stability, especially with everything that’s happening politically. You’ll be introduced, and people will see that I’m not just a leader—I’m a father. A man with family values.”

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, pushing her plate away slightly. “Family values,” she repeated, the words tasting bitter. “What family values? You’re always working. I barely see you.”

Her father’s expression didn’t waver. “That’s why this is important. You’ll solidify the image. You’ll be the proof of my commitment, not just to the country, but to my family.”

Y/N shook her head, feeling a knot of frustration building in her chest. “I’ve lived outside the spotlight my whole life, Dad. I didn’t ask for any of this. And now you want me to just... smile and play the perfect daughter?”

Thaddeus’s gaze sharpened, his tone cooling. “It’s more than just smiling. You know that. This is about duty, Y/N.”

“Duty,” Y/N scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Of course. It’s always about duty with you.”

Thaddeus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t understand how important this is.”

“No,” Y/N shot back, “I do understand. Now I realize that you’re using me for your image, and I’m supposed to just fall in line.”

“This isn’t just about you. This is bigger than either of us. The people need to see that I have a strong, supportive family. It gives them confidence.”

Y/N clenched her fists under the table, her heart racing with frustration. “But what about me, Dad? What about what I want? You’ve made all the decisions for me up until now, and I’ve gone along with it.”

Thaddeus leaned forward slightly, his tone growing more insistent. “You knew this was coming. We’ve talked about this before. You’ve had time to prepare.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice softening. “Prepare for what? To lose my privacy? You don’t care about what this means for me—you just care about how it looks for you.”

Thaddeus’s face remained impassive, though his tone was clipped. “That’s not true. I care about you, Y/N. But I also care about this country and what’s best for it.”

Y/N let out another hollow laugh, her frustration bubbling over. “Right. Because nothing says ‘family man’ like dragging your daughter into the spotlight when she’s never wanted to be there.”

Thaddeus didn’t respond for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You will do this, Y/N. It’s not just about me. It’s about this family, the country, and the image we need to uphold.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his expectations. She knew she couldn’t win this argument. Her father had already made up his mind, and she was just another part of his larger plan.

After a long pause, Y/N’s voice was quiet. “And after the event? What happens then?”

Thaddeus leaned back in his chair, his expression softening ever so slightly. “After the event, we’ll take it one step at a time. The public will get to know you gradually. It won’t all happen overnight.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the knot in her stomach tightening. “I don’t know if I want to do this.”

Her father’s gaze softened, if only for a moment. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. You’ve always been.”

Y/N nodded, though her heart felt heavy. “Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll be there. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Thaddeus gave her a small nod, satisfied with her response. “Good. We’ll go over the details as the date gets closer.”

Y/N pushed her plate further away, her appetite long gone. As the conversation shifted to less intense topics, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled in her chest. The event was a month away, but it already felt like it was looming over her, threatening to swallow her whole.

With a quiet sigh, she dabbed her napkin at her mouth and stood up from the table, her chair scraping lightly against the polished floor. “I’m going to go,” she said softly, her voice strained with the weight of the conversation.

Thaddeus looked up, his brow furrowed slightly. He hadn’t expected her to leave so abruptly. “What about the engagement?”

Y/N froze for a moment, her fingers tightening around the edge of the napkin. The conversation with Ethan flashed through her mind, the vague promises, the unspoken truths. She sighed, letting the napkin fall back onto the table.

“Me and Ethan are going to talk,” she said, her voice firm but distant. “If that gives you some peace of mind.”

Thaddeus’s eyes lingered on her, his expression unreadable. “Good,” he said finally, though there was little warmth in his voice. “Make sure you do. It’s important.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She gave him a small nod, turned on her heel, and walked out of the dining room. The ornate hallways of the White House felt colder tonight, the grandeur and elegance offering no comfort as she made her way back to her room. Her father’s words echoed in her mind, but it wasn’t just the upcoming event that weighed on her—it was everything. The engagement, the pressure, the constant feeling of being trapped in a life she hadn’t chosen.

× × × ×

As Y/N walked out of the dining room, the ornate hallways of the White House felt colder tonight, the grandeur and elegance offering no comfort as she made her way back to her room. Each step echoed off the polished marble floors, but something felt off. Her mind, which had been racing moments earlier, now felt strangely... blank. She frowned, her fingers brushing along the wall for balance.

Halfway to her room, she paused, looking around as though she had forgotten where she was going. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the portraits that lined the hallway—portraits she had passed a thousand times. Yet, tonight, the faces blurred.

Y/N blinked hard, trying to shake the strange feeling creeping over her. Where was I going again?

For a split second, the thought slipped away, her mind drawing a blank. It was disorienting, like waking from a deep dream and not remembering where you were. She took a slow breath, pressing a hand to her temple. The faint throb there wasn’t new, but it was persistent, as if her brain was working too hard to pull thoughts together.

“Get it together,” she whispered to herself, glancing around the hallway. The elegant space seemed suddenly unfamiliar, foreign, even though she had lived here for years.

Y/N shook her head, trying to dismiss the uneasy feeling that was building in her chest. It’s just stress, she told herself. It’s everything happening at once. The event, the engagement, the media. It’s all just... too much.

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just the stress. It has been happening more often lately—small, almost unnoticeable lapses. Forgetting where she put her phone, struggling to recall the names of people she had just met, moments of disorientation that she’d brushed off. They weren’t constant, but they were enough to make her wonder.

Still, Y/N pushed the thought aside and continued down the hallway, her fingers trailing along the wall for grounding. She reached what will become her room and pushed the door open, exhaling a sigh of relief as she stepped into the familiar space. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly, but the lingering unease from the hallway stuck with her, sitting heavy in the pit of her stomach.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 23rd of November, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 23rd of November, 2024

Question: How is Princess Catherine? (mentally, physically, and emotionally)

Note: This reading was done with all cards in the upright position

Interpretation: Trying to move on, looking for the positive in things

Card One: The Six of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine mentally

The Six of Swords is a card of moving on, transitioning from one way of life to another, leaving something behind, loss that propels us forward.

The energy of this card is of someone who is trying to move on from their problems into a better state of mind.

I think that Catherine is trying to move on from an 'I have cancer I need to have treatment for this' focus to a 'looking forward to a brighter future' focus. I feel that she is trying to - not ignore her problems or health issues, but look beyond them and focus on the positives in her life, both immediate and those in the near future (eg I could attend one event last month, can I attend two events this month - that sort of positiveness). It is very much a card of transition, of the slow progress from 'not being able to do anything' to 'being able to do this amount of stuff per week'.

There is also a sense of sadness for the things she has learnt (such as the entire media being willing to ignore her request for privacy and turn her absence into a cruel 'where's wally' game). I feel that the cruelty has hurt her but she is trying to see it as a lesson about how inhumane the media can be and who she can trust to respect her wishes, and then accept it as a lesson learnt and move on, rather than dwelling on it and getting all upset about it. The energy has that sense of being in rocky waters but trying to move forward to pools of peace.

There is a sense of focusing very strongly on the positive as a way of giving herself hope and being able to keep on going, because you know the future will be better than the present, you just have to get there.

There is also a sense here of a plan for the future that includes the lessons she has learnt the past year. The future will not be the same as the past - she can't go back to how things were in the past, she is not the same person as she was then - but she can move forward and create a future that gives her what she wants after this year of realising what is truly important to her (more safety is what I want to write, more security, not physical bodyguards but being able to protect herself and her children from the cruelty of the press and the disrespect of people who think they are entitled to know everything about the Waleses).

Overall, a transition energy - taking the lessons of the past year and what has stood out as the most important values to her in the past year and using those to create a future that she would like to inhabit.

Card Two: The Five of Swords

This was my card for Princess Catherine physically

This is the card of not being able to win for losing, winning the battle but losing the war, and that is the energy that is coming off this card. Physically, she is still weak, and she is frustrated by that weakness. It's a two steps forward one step back progress and I get the feeling that she is tired of this and frustrated by it, she wants to heal faster so she can do everything she wants to do but at the same time she knows that this sort of progress is normal and overall she is doing quite well. It's very much the frustration of a physically active person who know has to basically start from scratch again and slowly build up their strength and their stamina to their pre-illness levels. I feel that it is going to take a long time for Princess Catherine to be back at her pre-illness levels of fitness, and by long time I mean years before she is fully recovered. She will be able to go out and about sooner than that but it will be very draining for her.

The energy of this card is normal frustration with the slow, non-linear progress that is recovering from a major health issue.

Card Three: Justice

This is my card for Princess Catherine emotionally

Justice is the card of legal justice, but also of any sort of justice, accountability, truth being revealed, honesty, integrity, consequences etc.

The energy of this card is one of determination and frustration. Catherine wants justice for something. Not necessarily legal justice but emotional justice. She wants to feel that she has been seen and heard, that her grievances have been addressed, that she has fixed things so this will not happen again in the future. If you know the story in the bible of the widow who kept going to the unjust judge and saying 'give me justice against my adversary', and eventually she got it - it is that sort of energy, a persistent push to see justice done, see the truth come out, see people face the consequences of their actions. I don't know what exactly this is about, but something is pushing her to get emotional justice for it - the satisfaction of seeing the truth come out about people who have hurt you.

I drew a clarifier for this, and what came out was two cards together, the Sun and the High Priestess, both of which have an energy of truth - the Sun shedding its light on the secrets kept by the High Priestess. The energy here is of a push to reveal the truth about things, an energy of 'I am sick of living with lies'. The Sun can also be a card about children - just throwing that out there.

Justice is the card of Libra, and Libra is all about balance, so it could be that Catherine is struggling to keep her emotions from veering up and down all the time, which is perfectly natural when you are recovering from an illness - it does throw your emotions out of wack and it is hard to stay balanced (and eg not get upset when you can't do as much today as you did last week).

Underlying Energy: The Empress

The Empress is a card of nurturing, femininity. creativity, nature, abundance, motherhood, and also a card of robust physical health. This is what Catherine wants, the desire underlying the above reading - to be healthy again, to be able to nurture those around her, to have the energy to create and play and have fun with her family, to be able to give back to others and nurture the wider community by doing this. It is a goal that will take time to achieve but that is her ultimate plan - to return to health so she has the energy to give to those around her, instead of being too tired and drained to be able to do much about it.

There is a minor anxiety here that she has to be ready sooner rather than later, that she is on a deadline? time limit? because what happens if she has to be queen and she is not physically ready to take on that role? So some fretting and worrying about that, which may just be the illness speaking (as in sometimes small things loom large when you are unwell and you fret about them when they are really not that important). I think this is a pressure she is putting on herself rather than anything external - she will be upset with herself if the time comes and she can't immediately step into the role that she wants to fulfil as queen.

Conclusion:

Catherine is in a very normal state for someone who is recovering from a major health issue. She is trying to get out and do things but her body is holding her back. Progress is slow and non-linear, which is frustrating. She is trying to focus on the positive and on the future. She wants to take what she has learnt over this past year and use it to shape a future that she is happy about. Emotionally, she may be a bit all over the place. There is a persistent desire or push for emotional justice of some sort. She is worried about her rate of recovery as she feels it is not fast enough and she doesn't have oodles of time to spend healing as she needs to be ready to be queen when that time comes.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Samantha Fields

When Charlie McCone got COVID in March 2020 in San Francisco, he was 30, otherwise healthy and fit, not considered high-risk. His doctors told him he’d get better in a couple of weeks. He didn’t.

Eventually, weeks into being sick and with no real answers from his doctors, he turned to that place many of us turn to for medical information: the internet.

“I found a Facebook group with thousands of other people asking what’s going on, and I was like, ‘Oh my God,’” he said, “‘This is happening to so many other people.’”

It was already becoming clear then, in spring of 2020, that COVID could cause serious, lasting issues, including debilitating fatigue and brain fog, among many other symptoms. Because there was so much attention on COVID at the time, McCone said, “there was a lot of hope about the response to long COVID, I think, the first two years.”

Then in late 2020, Congress allocated over $1 billion to the National Institutes of Health for long COVID research. “There was this feeling that we’re going to have answers here in a few years,” he said.

But now it is a few years later, and that feeling has changed.

McCone is still sick. He’s not working anymore and can’t walk much more than a block. Roughly 20 million people in the U.S. are now estimated to have long COVID, maybe more. And that initial $1.15 billion NIH got for the RECOVER program — which stands for Researching COVID to Enhance Recovery — has yielded few answers and zero approved treatments so far.

“There’s been a lot of disappointment in terms of the program moving slowly and also focusing a lot on the kind of observational side of things,” said Betsy Ladyzhets, co-founder and managing editor of the Sick Times, a nonprofit news site focused on long COVID.

Most of the research money has gone into trying to learn more about what long COVID is — into clinical research, data collection and analysis and studies of electronic health records.

“Rather than what many people in the patient community and also the research community really want, which is focus on treatments, clinical trials,” Ladyzhets said.

There’s good reason for the focus on observational research, according to Dr. Serena Spudich, a neurologist and researcher at Yale who’s working with the RECOVER program.

“There has to be a very, very strong urgency for finding treatments,” she said. “And at the same time, we will only find treatments if we understand the condition properly.”

And understand what’s causing the many different kinds of symptoms people are having.

“Because long COVID is not one condition, it’s a very heterogeneous condition,” Spudich said. “And it’s very, very possible, I would even say likely, that different forms of long COVID — for example, the more neurologic forms versus something like severe shortness of breath or problems with the heart rate — those may actually be due to different types of biologic mechanisms that need different treatments.”

Outside researchers agree that these kinds of observational studies and data collection are critical, but some feel the NIH didn’t need to spend nearly $1 billion on them.

Dr. Ziyad Al-Aly, director of the Clinical Epidemiology Center and chief of the Research and Education Service at the VA St. Louis Health Care System, said his team and others did similar research earlier in the pandemic, “for peanuts, a few hundred thousand dollars that generated evidence much more robustly, faster, years ahead of RECOVER, for a small, small, small, small fraction of the funds.”

At this point, more than four years in, “NIH should be laser-focused, laser-focused on finding treatment for long COVID,” he said.

That will be a bigger focus going forward. NIH got another $515 million this year for RECOVER and plans to put much of it toward clinical trials.

This fall, it held a kickoff meeting for the next phase of the RECOVER program, called RECOVER-TLC, which stands for Treating Long COVID. Now, Joseph Breen at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at NIH said it’s in the process of soliciting ideas for drugs and other treatments to trial.

“We have every intention of getting started as soon as possible,” he said. “In reality, we’re probably into next year.”

David Putrino, director of rehabilitation innovation for the Mount Sinai Health System in New York, has been doing long COVID research since 2020. He said how the clinical trials are designed will be critical.

“What we need to be doing is rapidly testing as many drug targets as possible, rather than taking big swings,” he said. Meaning that instead of putting all the funding into a few big, expensive trials of a couple of drugs, RECOVER could do a bunch of smaller trials.

“For a couple million dollars apiece, they could be testing 100 drugs. And they could be logging the responses of those 100 drugs, and they could be moving into more sophisticated clinical trial strategies,” Putrino said. “That is where I think we should be applying the money.”

Many long COVID patients and advocates are cautiously optimistic about this next phase of research. Charlie McCone, who has become something of an expert in his own illness and now volunteers with the Patient-Led Research Collaborative, was at the kickoff meeting and left feeling a little more hopeful.

“The NIH can do this right, they have to do this right,” he said. “And they need to do it fast, which we know is possible.”

But no matter what comes of this current slate of funding, he said more is going to be needed. “No disease is solved with a one-time investment. And so, just because this first billion dollars didn’t produce much does not mean the next billion and the next billion won’t.”

Some legislators are already pushing for additional funding. Sen. Bernie Sanders, a Vermont Independent, along with several Democratic senators, introduced the Long COVID Research Moonshot Act in the Senate, and a companion bill has been introduced in the House. The Moonshot Act would provide $1 billion a year for 10 years for long COVID research. It has yet to be brought to the floor for a vote.

[shinibobo]

Hi, yes, hi ummm how do I politely request for a lore drop of the monster hunter au you just started posting 👀

Also I’m loving the plated armor look you’ve got going on for both of his forms it’s legit the coolest thing I’ve seen of a metal redesign

N e ways, I hope you’re having a lovely day so far and I hope you hydrate :P

Just simply asking is plenty enough, and i'm REALLY happy to yap about it!! Granted, this au is in it's early stages and much is subject to change, but I have lots planned already! Metal Sonic's armor plating is referenced from the Valstrax armor set, since this is what Eggman modeled it after. It still has a lot of refining left, but I'm pretty happy with the results so far.

Sonic and many others are hunters and handlers, and eggman's a guy that's misusing the enviroment and it's ecosystem to progress his experiments and studies. Metal Sonic is a soft reconstruction of a valstrax imitating Sonic's image; Eggman believes that by having something much much faster than sonic (and also having the power of an elder dragon in complete control), there'll be more wiggle room to do as he pleases. He thinks Sonic and Tails are getting far too close for comfort, and he'd be right, since more often than not, they're hot on his trail. Although they simply are doing their jobs, they stumble into his test sites very frequently.. you know, all main character like and such LMAO

So far, i have a list of roles and/or weapons for a good handful of characters: - Sonic; hunter, dual blades, very quick and nimble on his feet - Tails; Sonic's handler, very knowledgable and resourceful. He excels in traps and machinery. He's also absolutely terrified of Kirin and the weather than gathers with them. - Knuckles; hunter, lance/hammer. Gone into a more passive position, but still leaps at the opportunity to join the hunt. - Amy; used to be sonic's handler, now a lone researcher that studies traces of the past. She knows how to use a hammer thanks to a retired hunter long ago. She has a fondness for the wild chao that inhabit the many ecosystems. - Shadow; guild knight (guild knights enforce hunter law and punish poaching hunters and the like), sword and shield/gunlance/ heavy long gun/ switch axe (very versatile in weapon usage) (joined the guild knights to right his old villages wrongs), - Rouge; an experienced guild knight kept in check by shadow. She's far more experienced than Shadow and more often than not offers guidance (but theyre friends still), longsword/bow - Blaze; insect glaive with a fire element kinsect - Silver; hunter duo with blaze, charge blade. The both of them are New World residents, although they travel to the Old World as well to take on urgent quests.

Oh, and instead of Palicoes (the felyne little fellas that fight alongside hunters), Chao would most likely be in this said position! The more they bond and grow closer to their hunter, the more and more they change. There's a possibility that the chao can look similar to their hunter (for example, Sonic's chao looks an awful lot like him... sonic chao moment). Just like palicoes, they fight with the hunter, provide cover support, and offer a wide rang of tools!

[cowgurrrl]

You're My Only Hope for Heaven

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: oh bitch I'm having a fucking blast with this dynamic the slow burn is slow burning

Summary: An unlikely patron saunters into your bar [3.5k]

Warnings: one (1) creepy guy, one (1) fake marriage, lots of flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, one (1) kiss

You try not to make it a habit of picking up bar shifts during the week. Not only is it almost always slow, and you barely make any money, but it's hard to go from teaching for eight hours directly to another job. You'd much rather be at home, grading or doing something for yourself for the first time in weeks. But you couldn't say no when Katie called you, almost in tears, begging you to take her shift so she could deal with a burst pipe in her house. You don't regret doing her a favor, but you do regret other things as you stand behind the mostly empty bar as whatever game is happening plays on the screen above your head. You think it's a UT game. Or maybe A&M. Or any of the other SEC Texas schools with an absurd football budget. 

You're basically yawning your way through your shift and working through your newest painting in your head, trying and failing to not think about school until absolutely necessary. Principal Martinez is cracking down on the stupid minutiae the school board demands of its teachers, and you spent most of your afternoon writing student objectives on the board. On top of that, your art club kids have been begging you to plan a field trip to the local art museum for weeks. You finally relented, but the paperwork is mind-numbing and requires much more work than you thought. Between working, making art, and trying to live your life, you barely have time. 

Another reason you hate working weekdays is the creepy regulars. Normally, you can ignore them on a busy Saturday night, but it's harder when it's as dead as it is. You have no idea how Katie deals with them on a regular basis. It started with a guy at the bar, you think his name is Steve, asking you progressively invasive questions. "How old are you?" "You gotta boyfriend?" "What time do you get off?" One right after each other, even after you made it clear you're not interested. Fake laughing and making excuses to run to the back or change a keg don't throw him off. 

"Keep it up, and I'll cut you off." You finally threaten after he asks you why you're being a bitch. You roll your eyes when the bell above the door rings, probably admitting yet another asshole who's gonna make your night hell. When you turn toward the door, the words leave you before you can stop them. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"Now, is that any way to greet your customers?" Joel chuckles, and you sigh as he sits down in front of you. Thankfully, his brother is not in tow, and you can save yourself a little embarrassment. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I don't," you say. "Whatcha drinkin'?" 

"Looks like you're workin' to me." He smirks and you shoot him a look.

"You wanna free drink or not?" 

"Shiner," he answers quickly. You hum in acknowledgment, not even bothering with the POS system and going right to the fridge to pull a bottle out for him. You pop the cap off and place a napkin under the beer before sliding it to him. "Are you bribin' me?"

"You've gotta be faster with your questions, Miller. You've already accepted it. Might as well enjoy." You say, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright, then," he says, raising his beer to you before taking a quick sip. "So, what's this, then? You moonlightin' as a bartender?" He asks, and you fight yourself on how to answer. What if word gets back to parents? Administration? They couldn't reprimand you for that, right? You know plenty of other teachers with second jobs, so it can't be that taboo. Still, you're hesitant to open up to Joel. Out of all the people who could've walked into your bar tonight, it had to be him.

"Something like that." You settle on, wiping a sticky spot on the bar to avoid his gaze. If he feels anything negative about you having a second job, his face doesn't show it. He has a soft smile on his lips and a slight sunburn across his nose, highlighting the freckles living there that previously went unnoticed. You want to tease him about not wearing sunscreen, but the joke dies in your throat when he rests his elbows on your bar, showing off those stupid biceps you can't not look at. He catches your eyes lingering near the short sleeve of his shirt and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but a grating voice from the other side of the bar cuts him off.

"Excuse me, sweetheart! You've got other patrons over here!" Steve yells, and you feel your eye twitch at his attitude. Joel notices.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks quietly, leaning forward over the bar to get closer to you. Looking into his brown eyes and confused expression, an idea forms.

"Pretend you know me." You say, and his eyebrows knit together, every emotion visible on his face. 

"I do know you."

"No, I mean," you sigh. "That guy over there is a regular on Wednesdays, and the girl who usually works is married, so he doesn't try anything with her, but I won't give him my number, and he's making me fucking miserable. So, just... pretend to know me." Joel is bigger than Steve. Much bigger. Probably a whole head taller and much broader than the man on the other side of the bar. One word from Joel, and he might actually shut up or, better yet, leave altogether so you can finish your day without any more hiccups.

"Okay," Joel agrees, and you reflexively reach out to touch his thick forearm and squeeze. You don't even realize you did it until he smiles like he won a staring contest or something.

"Thank you," you say before turning and bracing yourself to deal with Steve. "What can I do for you, sir?" You ask, but before you can even finish your sentence, he holds up his empty beer bottle and waves it in front of your face like you're stupid. 

"Another beer." He says, and you bite your tongue. 

"You got it."

"Finally," he groans. "You'd think for such an easy fuckin' job, you'd be better at it." 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You ask, refusing to move from your spot to get him his beer, and he scoffs.

"My problem is that you're bein' a fuckin' bitch and ignorin' me when I didn't do nothin' wrong." He's slurring his words together at this point, and you wordlessly go to the POS system to close his tab and send him on his way. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" He yells after you.

"Hey, man, why don't you leave her alone? She's just tryna do her job." Joel speaks up from the other side of the bar, and Steve straightens up in his seat as he assesses Joel. 

"This isn't any of your fuckin' business. Stay out of it."

"It's my business now. That's no way to speak to a lady. I think you owe her a mighty big apology." 

"I don't owe her shit," he spits, and you look over to see Joel setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "Why's this even matter to you, big shot?"

"That's my fuckin' wife you're mouthin' off to," Joel says without hesitation, and you quickly school your expression. Wife? You asked him to play along, but you didn't think he'd say that. "So, if you wanna keep the rest of your teeth, I suggest you apologize to her, leave her a nice, big tip for dealin' with your sorry ass, and get yourself a ride home." 

Steve is silent as you take the empty bottle away from him— just in case things get really ugly— and slide him his card and bill. He eyes Joel carefully for a few tense seconds before picking up a pen, signing his check, and leaving without another word. The second he's out the door, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders and sigh at the relief. You scrub a hand down your face and look over at Joel.

"You okay?" He asks gently like you're a spooked horse, and you nod. You take a few minutes to get yourself together, putting in Steve's 30% tip and cleaning off the empty bar before returning to Joel. "What?" He asks when he catches you smirking.

"At least buy a girl dinner before you call me your wife." You say, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"You said the other girl is married. I just took it and ran," he says. "And I already tried to take you to dinner, but somebody said no." 

"School regulation says it's unethical." 

"Well, we're not at school now, and you're certainly not a teacher right now." He says smoothly, vaguely gesturing to your all-black outfit, and you give him a look. "What time d'you get off?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble." You whisper, and he leans forward across the bar. 

"All I did was ask you a question." He whispers back, playfully mocking you. It could be the smile on his face, the relaxed humor behind his eyes, or the fact that he stood up for you because you asked him to, but you glance between him and the clock and take a deep breath. 

"I get off at 12. Unless it stays dead like this, then I'm closing early," you say, and his smile grows. "But this is not a date." 

"'Course not." He chuckles, and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

"I'm serious. I need you to say it's not a date, so I know you won't come after me if your kid fails my class." 

"Is my kid failing your class?"

"No, she's amazing. But for my own mental well-being, I need you to say that this is not a date." You say, and he grabs your wrist to stop your anxious wringing. 

"Let me buy you a drink. That's it. Nothin' more," he says, squeezing you. "This ain't a date." 

"Thank you." You sigh, and he nods. 

You spend an hour or two idling between conversations with Joel and trying to look busy for any manager who might care enough to check the cameras. You're pretty much done with all your closing duties by 10:00, and you wait until it's been a full hour since anyone else came in to flip the closed sign and do a few last-minute things. When the bar is completely clean, empty, and ready for the next shift, you slink back behind it to make yourself and Joel a drink before sitting beside him. 

"You feelin' proud of yourself for getting us here?" You ask as you clink your glass against his and take a sip. 

"Yeah, I've got the prettiest girl in the whole place sittin' by me," he says, and before you can even scold him, he throws his hands up. "Not a date." 

"Not a date." You repeat.

"Still true, though."

"Don't make me regret saying yes to you, Mr. Miller." You say, and he gives you a look. You like teasing him, especially since you can always see exactly how he's feeling. He's not particularly subtle, contrary to what you're sure others think about him. 

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joel?" 

"As many times as it takes, I guess," you shrug. "You also clearly have an aversion to being called Mr. Miller."

"My dad was Mr. Miller." He says, and you roll your eyes, groaning and half-folding in on yourself dramatically. 

"Oh, my God, do you know how many men have said that to me since I've become a teacher?"

"Well, it's true!" He says. "Are you sayin' other people are tryna tell my wife to call ‘em by their first names?" He asks, and you laugh. 

"Believe it or not, you're not the first single parent to ask me out." 

"Am I the first one you said yes to?" 

"So far." 

"So far?" He asks, raising his eyebrows, and you hum. "I'll take it." 

Unsurprisingly, Joel is really easy to talk to. He asks questions about your life outside of work, where you went to school, and what made you want to be a teacher. You ask him about his job and family and, somehow, end up talking about the latest cheesy action film he's seen. When both your drinks are empty, the glasses sit there, the ice slowly melting as you talk into the night. Every time a hint of anxiety creeps up your spine, he makes you laugh or tells you an interesting story from his past and distracts you from it. You lose hours sitting there, and you don't even realize it until your phone pings you with a reminder, and you suddenly see it's past midnight.

"Oh, shit," you mumble, showing Joel the time. "I gotta lock up."

"And you have school tomorrow." He says, and you groan as you stand and grab your glasses. 

"Don't remind me. I've got like five million things waiting to get done there." You say. He watches you step behind the bar, leave them in the sink for the opener to find, and no doubt send a catty message in the group chat asking who closed the night before. His eyes don't leave you even when you reach up and grab your bag, your sleeve falling down just enough to reveal a nasty bruise.

"Woah, that looks like it hurt," he says, gesturing to your arm. "How'd you get that?"

"Promise you won't laugh." Your response does nothing to clear up his confusion, but he raises his right hand and makes a cross over his heart.

"I promise." His tone is gentle and even, but you're still hesitant to actually admit it.

"I fell off a table." 

"I told you!"

"Hey!" You scold. "You promised you'd be cool about it!"

"I promised not to laugh." He says, and you roll your eyes. "They still haven't come to fix it for ya?"

"Would I be climbing on tables if they did?"

"Fair enough," he shrugs. You find the bar keys at the bottom of your purse and walk over to where he's still sitting, your hand resting on the back of your chair. He shifts forward until he can catch the edge of your sleeve and roll it up to see the bruise in all her glory. His fingers are warm, and his touch light as he traces the edge of it, not firm enough to make it ache but enough that you feel the pads of his fingers. You freeze like your stillness will be enough for the feather-light touches to continue, your eyes meeting for a split second. He clears his throat and rolls your sleeve back down for you, drawing his hand back. "Tell you what," he says. "I gotta buddy who gets me a good deal on some spare parts. Let me see if I can track down the part you need, and I'll come fix it myself. Free of charge."

"You don't have to do that." 

"And let my wife fall off tables?" He asks, a smirk pulling on his lips, and you shake your head. "It's the least I can do for the free drinks and, ya know, teachin' my kid." 

"Fine, but don't make it a thing. The maintenance people already don't like me. I can't imagine seeking outside help will make them like me." 

"I won't make it a thing," he promises, leaning back in his chair as his eyes travel up and down your body. He sighs heavily and sucks his teeth like you're suddenly too much, and you smile. "It's a damn shame this wasn't a date."

"What'd you do if it was?" The question borders on dangerous, but you can't take it back now that you've said it. It seems to have piqued Joel's interest, too, because he raises his eyebrows at you.

"You really wanna know?" He asks, and you nod.

"I really wanna know," you say. "How does Joel Miller end a successful date?" He gets a little bashful at the question, a blush creeping up his neck, and you knock his knee with yours to get his attention. "C'mon, don't get shy on me now."

"Alright, alright," he grumbles. "If this were a date, and we were gettin' ready to go out separate ways, I'd walk you out to your car, open the door for ya 'cause a lady should never open her own doors," his voice is slow and low, and he watches your face as he speaks. "And I'd kiss you. Nice and slow so I don't scare ya off or anythin'. I might put a hand on your waist or bite that pretty lip or somethin'. And right when I can feel you wantin' a little more, gettin' a little desperate, I'd stop, say goodnight, and walk back to my truck." His words have a devastating effect on you, and you can't look away from him. The heat rolling off him in waves makes you too warm and flustered. His gaze flicks from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip, and you have half a mind to think he's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You have half a mind to let him. 

"You're right," you finally breathe. "It's a shame this isn't a date." He nods and stands, his broad chest grazing yours as you look up at him. You're not a science teacher by any means. If you were, you might be able to explain the magnetism you feel toward Joel or what stupid chemical in your brain makes you wonder what tricks he keeps up his sleeve. But you're not. You're an art teacher. So, the only thing you can focus on is the deep brown of his irises and the heavy lashes and crow's feet that frame his eyes. And the swoop of his salt and pepper curls, the tint of his slightly pink forehead and strong nose. You want to capture his image in the dim lighting of the bar, but you settle for committing it to memory to scribble in the margins of your notebook for the rest of the week. Why couldn't you have been a science teacher?

Neither of you says anything as he finally steps away, giving you the space to turn off the last of the bar lights and push through the haze he created in your mind. He lingers by the door and opens it for you when you go to the front and step into the humid Austin night. You lock the doors and give him a small smile when you turn around to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

Then, just as he said, he walks you to your car and opens the driver's side door for you. His truck, the only other car in the parking lot, is parked a few spaces away from yours. It would've been so much easier to just ignore you, get in his car, and drive away, but here he is, being the gentleman he's always been toward you. You step into the space created by the open door and throw your bag in the passenger seat, but don't get in the car. Not yet. He sighs heavily, like he's in physical pain, when you meet his eyes again, and his hand flexes around the edge of your car door. 

"Thanks for my not date." You mumble, and he nods. You're close (and weak) enough that brushing his lips would just take a strong breeze. It freaks you out how okay you are with the idea of "accidentally" kissing Joel Miller. You should be panicking. Alarm bells should be sounding in your head, but the only thing filling the cavernous space is the echo of his voice explaining what he'd do if this were a date. Idiot.

He leans on your door a little more, and your heart quickens, thinking he might actually be the one to make the move. His head ducks just a little, and you get a strong whiff of his cologne, your eyes fluttering shut at the scent. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you're all but pushing up on your toes when he swerves past your lips and presses a chaste, firm kiss to your cheek. His beard scratches your soft skin pleasantly, and you keep your eyes closed until he pulls away, looking like he just won a prize.

"Get home safe." He says as he steps back, still holding your door open. You sigh and fight a smile as you look at him— cocky, vindicated, and knowing exactly what he just did. 

"Goodnight, Joel." You manage to get out before sitting down and letting him gently shut the door for you. You wait until he gets in his truck to roll your window down and shout his name until he does the same. "I'm gonna get you back for that."

"Oh, I'm countin' on it, darlin'."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3

[skimmingmilk]

Hi! I was wondering if you maybe had a wip of an upcoming chapter/story you plan on sharing in the future? :0 I love all your work and am excited to see what you have coming up!

Thank you so much! I absolutely have a lot of wips I'd be happy to share, I know it's been a minute since I've been able to upload something to AO3. I've been plugging away at "When the World Breaks" for the past several weeks and it's been pretty slow going :') I've had a lot more going on in the beginning of the year than I expected, so that's derailed writing quite a bit, but progress is still being made! So I'll share a little of Shamar's chapter as a sneak peek since it's been so long in the making <3

“Hey, guys! Long time no see.” Sonic flashed them a grin as two of his friends rushed over to him. “I see ya got a head start without me!”

“We wanted to let you sleep in a bit!” Chip chirped, flying in excited, dizzying circles around Sonic’s head.

“So we thought we’d take Tails’s medal tracker out for a spin and see if we could speed the process along for you,” Amy added.

Sonic’s eyes dropped to the abaya draped over her arm. “Oh, yeah. I can see that,” he snickered.

Rolling her eyes with a “tch,” Amy placed one hand on her hip. “There was a medal in the market, you know. And Tails can confirm it, too. Right, Tails?” She looked to the two-tailed fox as he finally made his way over to them, eyes still glued to his tablet.

“Yeah. But the shopping was definitely a detour.”

“Besides, we’re already ahead of schedule!” Amy waved off, ignoring Tails entirely and prompting him to finally glance up at her with a bland look. “Professor Pickle and I already figured out the next temple is in Adabat before we left. After that, there’s just one more to go!”

“Adabat, huh?” Tails hummed, punching in generic coordinates in the Miles Electric. “Not exactly next door…”

“But not on the other side of the world, either!” Sonic held up a finger. “All things considered, Adabat’s not a bad stop.”

“So, since we wanted to let you get some more rest, Professor Pickle encouraged us to do some sightseeing.”

“He said we could take in some of the sights while searching for the medals. With the emphasis being on the medals and not, you know…” Tails gestured wordlessly to the market around them.

“Okay, fine. You’ve made your point,” Amy sighed. “I still think we should get some kind of refreshment before we keep looking. It’s easy to get dehydrated in heat like this!”

“Refreshments! Yeah!” Chip did a flip in the air, then flopped atop Sonic’s head. “Please, Sonic, I’m so thirsty. It’s so dry.”

Sonic laughed. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s get you something to drink—”

“And eat!”

“And eat,” Sonic tacked on, shaking his head fondly. 

“Perfect!” Amy clapped her hands together. “Let’s all get something to eat at a cute little cafe, then you three can go searching for more sun and moon medals while I finish up shopping! I want to pick up a little something for Cream and Vanilla while we’re here. I missed out on souvenirs while we were in Spagonia.”

Tails tucked his tablet under his arm. “I’ll meet up with you guys later. I only got to test my tracker for a little bit in Holoska, so I need more data to make sure its readings are accurate. And I want to see how much we can shave off the time we spend looking for them. The faster, the better, right?”

Sonic leaned his elbow against the top of Tails’s head. “Can’t argue that!”

Amy sighed. “You really are cut from the same cloth, aren’t you?”

“The coolest cloth around.” Sonic winked, then nudged Tails. “But how ‘bout we grab something to take with us on the go? Then we can get right back to our medal mission and that big brain of yours won’t get too dehydrated before the day’s out.”

The look Tails cast him was none too impressed, but he simply released a heavy sigh and pushed Sonic’s elbow out of his personal space. “Fine. As long as it’s a quick stop. We’ve only got so much daylight before we’re slowed down by the Dark Gaia creatures.”

“‘As long as it’s quick.’ Do you know who I am?” Sonic teased.

[mochiimadness]

hi! i really like your works, so i'd like to request a ( sort of angsty ) scenario where the rottmnt boys react to their s/o losing their memories after getting injured from a bad guy fight, so they completely forget who the boys are

Hello! I want to preface this by saying: this is mostly from their POV, so their thoughts are very much self-blaming, even if what they think is not at all the case!

Slightly angsty, filled with self blame and anxiety.

Rottmnt x S/O who loses their memories after a fight

Neon Leon

Leo feels the weight of this horrible situation crush him like a fallen building.

If only he had just been a little faster- or planned ahead better

Maybe if he had been more serious about his s/o and their safety this never would have happened.

He’s in shock at first when you flinch away from him

Whether or not you were genuinely scared or just shocked at seeing a mutant ninja turtle-

It hurts him all the same because of one thing

The genuine confusion on your face-

No trace of recognition in your gaze

He shuts down for a few moments as his brothers try to figure out what they can do to help

The ringing in his ears grow loud until the high pitch whine is all he can hear

He can’t even see you nor his family in front of him anymore- everything far too blurry

Just vague shapes and blobs of color…

Distorted and unrecognizable

Is that how his s/o saw him??

All he can think is;

He should have gotten to you quicker

He couldn’t even portal to you because he didn’t know where you were.

It’s his fault that you don’t remember him,

The life you two have life together,

All the laughter you shared,

Just gone… like it never existed…

…

He should’ve been better.

Don Tron

Donnie’s already trying to scan his s/o and check for any injuries the second he finds them

What could’ve caused their condition??

Blunt force trauma to the head?

Mystical memory wipe??

What’s ever caused it, he’s going to find it

And he will not rest until he can reverse this.

Absolutely could not handle your reaction to him-

Not knowing who he is,

Not knowing all the wonderful progress you two made together,

Helping him with his experiments and machinery,

Getting comfortable with prolonged touch,

The late night rambles-

Immediately started murmuring the statistics of regaining your memory under his breath

You had to get their memory back- you absolutely had to.

Statistics be damned- he’s making sure it’s a 100% chance.

There’s anxiety gnawing away at him slowly from the inside,

Creeping and burning like static in his bones.

Not even the numerous photos he has of the both of you are helping- maybe it’s just too soon

You did just wake up after all… but why-

Why couldn’t he have prevented this?

All of his fail safes,

The numerous emergency alert devices he gave you,

He weapon he had specifically designed to be easy to conceal and have on you at all times,

Even his GPS tracker-

None of them had worked to keep you safe…

He failed, and this was worse than any experiment exploding in his face.

He failed you and now you have no idea about just how close you two actually are

…

He will fix this- there’s no room for error this time.

Mystic Mike

Mikey’s on the verge of waking up the person who was cruel enough to harm you this badly- just so he could beat them up again.

They hurt you- hurt you so bad you can’t even remember his name

Let alone everything you two have been through together

Mikey feels rage

At the situation,

At the villains who did this,

And at himself-

Why hadn’t he been strong enough to stop this?

He can throw buses, skyscrapers even,

He can maneuver his way around places with ease with his razzmatazz mastery

But what was all that strength and skill for if none of it could help you?

He’s frustrated enough to cry

But he’s also the quickest to compose himself

Several deep breaths in and out before he's able to pull himself together enough to crouch down beside his beloved s/o

Gently reassures you that he means no harm,

That you were in a bad fight and letting you slowly collect yourself.

He also uses photos- but rather than doing this to specifically try to jog his s/o's memories,

It's more to show them that they actually do know him-

Trying to get your memories back can wait for later,

His main focus is making sure his s/o is calm and comfortable around him- at least enough to trust that he won't harm them.

Once you feel that they can trust him- even if only a little bit,

He'll take you home and make sure you're alright physically.

Later on, he sneaks off quietly to the gym area

Demolishes the punching bag they had-

All of his worries and frustrations are taken out with every punch

Would you ever remember him?

If you never regained your memories, is there any chance you two would ever have the relationship you once had again??

They're going to need more punching bags,

All the extra ones are destroyed too.

His family is worried, but Mikey is only focused on two things;

Helping you remember him and getting revenge for you.

He will make sure this won't ever happen again.

Big Red

What do you mean you don't remember him??

You're his s/o!

His partner!

Surely you must be playing a prank or something-

He is in complete denial at first,

Then, as his family explains that no-

You aren't joking,

You genuinely don't remember him,

His denial shatters into gut wrenching dispair.

How did this happen-

Why did this happen?!

...

This was all his fault.

Why wasn't he there for you when you needed him??

He's suppose to be able to protect those who he cares about

Especially his beloved s/o

Yet he failed

He wasn't there,

He wasn't able to help you, to stop you from ever being hurt this badly

And now you can’t remember a single thing about him, your relationship together, nothing.

RAPH is still able to move and check on you-

Though, it’s more like hovering worriedly while Donnie and Leo do their best to patch you up

He is watching like a hawk, making sure that you’re in no additional discomfort or pain

Once you’re clear enough to be able to go home though

Raph is stressing

If you leave now you could get hurt again!

But he doesn’t want to scare you off by being too overbearing

Especially if he wants any chance of you remembering him-

He can’t cause you to feel uncomfortable around him- or worse

Frightened.

He’s able to stop his anxiety fueled spiral before it consumes him

Focusing on making you’re you get home safely

Even if you decline having him walk with you-

He’ll make sure to follow stealthily from a distance

Once he’s certain you’re absolutely safe and sound

He’s pacing around the lair and pulling at his mask

What if you don’t remember him?

Donnie said you likely just had “mild amnesia” but what if it was worse?!

There’s a chance you’ll never be able to remember him-

And it’s all his fault…

He couldn’t protect you

It all boils down to one simple fact ringing in his head:

He wasn’t there

…

He’ll make sure he’s always there

He will be there for you.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed

Also for those who may not have watched ROTTMNT- Mikey is shown to be a little angry ball of revenge at times, while Raph is shown to be full of anxiety and mother-henning™️

So they may seem a little ooc compared to other versions of them!

[roz-ani]

I think that rushing the plot is Hazbin's biggest flaw so far. Certainly, one we can already see. We've only got 4 episodes, and so much has happened already. It might just be my personal interest in the overlords etc., but I kinda feel like we're not focusing that much on, we'll, the show's title. The Hotel.

Episode 3 shows it pretty well, because what can you tell me about Carmilla? I mean, what you knew about her character that wasn't presented in the episode. Same with Vaggie. I thought this episode's plot was about her learning how to trust people other than Charlie. That's how we started, then she had a rushed identity crisis related to being useful in her girlfriend's plan, and somehow she came to the conclusion she should start working on her trust issues. Only one thing was hinted at in the pilot. Vaggie and Carmilla shared a song in episode 3, and I can say with all confidence that it was unnecessary. Telling a character's story through a song doesn't mean they progress faster. Not in the way this show intends to. They did manage to do that with Angel in the next episode. I suppose they could've given the song to Vaggie and postponed the Carmilla reveal. After all, why should we focus so much on her while having so many Hotel residents?

When it comes to Alastor, for example, I believe it's much easier to enjoy his character because we don't really know what his deal is. We have yet to find out why he was gone, we can watch out for his rivalry with Vox and how he's gonna use the information about the exterminator's death. I don't know if it's the pressure, but it seems like we're expected to already know everything about the characters and just enjoy whatever the creators promised they'd do with them. And this is only the first season. There's a reason why these are used for establishing certain aspects of the created world and let the characters develop later. Like, I sincerely hope we're not done with Angel Dust's story arc because the 4th episode basically told us what his problem is and made him change his mind about his situation.

The show certainly suffers due to its format - 8 episodes and roughly 20 minutes per one. It seems like it's not enough for what they've planned, or, perhaps, the other way around. We have half of the season left, and it doesn't seem like the show will have time to improve on its pacing. We can only have hopes for a better-planned season 2.