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brunchable · 10 months ago

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𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: Stucky x F!Reader

Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.4K Themes: Forbidden Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky Barnes expected another typical therapy session, but the moment he meets Y/N, a sharp and unflinching therapist who doesn’t back down, everything changes. Used to keeping people at arm’s length, Bucky finds himself intrigued by her resilience and the way she sees right through his walls. A/N: I am also obsessed with Bucky ok? I can't leave him out. I will not use "chapter" for now because IDEK how long this will be. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Ciao.

Bucky entered the therapist’s office, expecting the usual routine with Dr. Raynor. But when he saw a younger woman sitting on the couch, legs crossed, glasses perched on her nose, he froze. She was scribbling in a notebook, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing. His eyes swept over her—pencil skirt, white blouse with the top two buttons undone. Definitely not Raynor.

Raynor was a pain in the ass enough, but now they're throwing this at me? Bucky thought, his jaw tightening as he watched her quietly scribble in her notebook. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of test or another attempt to “catch him off guard.” His whole life had been one test after another, and this—this felt like just another trick up their sleeve.

Great, he thought bitterly, as if I haven’t been poked and prodded enough. Now I’m supposed to open up to someone who probably just finished med school.

The calm way she sat there, so sure of herself, made him itch with irritation. He couldn’t figure her out, and he hated that. Was she here to push him harder than Raynor? Or was this just another bureaucratic move to switch things up, like changing therapists would suddenly crack him open?

What’s next? A therapy dog? His mind was racing, constantly searching for the next hit, the next blow. He felt like they were always trying to break him down bit by bit, like he was still their weapon.

But this? This is just insulting. He didn’t know what to make of her, or what she could possibly do for him, but his instincts were already screaming to keep his guard up, to watch her carefully. There was always something more to these situations. Always a catch.

"Did they lose my file or something?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don’t look old enough to be out of med school, let alone help me with… this." His words came out dripping with sarcasm, testing her right from the start.

Y/N didn’t look up immediately, taking her time as she finished writing something in her notebook. When she finally met his gaze, she adjusted her glasses slightly, then pointed to the couch with her eyes.

"I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, you’re in the right place," she said, her voice calm and even. "If you’d like to sit down, we can get started."

Bucky paused, the smirk still playing on his lips. He scanned the room, as if making sure he hadn’t walked into the wrong office, then sauntered toward the couch opposite her. He dropped down, stretching out his legs lazily, crossing his arms over his chest, still eyeing her with playful suspicion.

"Right place, huh? Are you sure about that?" He chuckled. "Didn’t realize they sent kids to do the hard jobs these days."

"Lucky for you, I’m not a kid. But if you’re hoping for someone older, I’m sure you can take it up with the front desk. Or we could just get started, your call."

Bucky’s smirk widened slightly, impressed by the way she shot back at him. He leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. "Alright then, since you’re apparently the expert. What’s the plan here? Gonna wave a magic wand, make all my problems go away?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting his sarcasm head-on. "No magic wand. Just work. But something tells me you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you?"

That caught him off guard. He was used to deflecting with humor, but she wasn’t backing down. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable in this verbal sparring match.

"Hard work, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still sarcastic. "And here I thought you were here to hand me a quick fix."

Y/N smiled ever so slightly, just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated. "I don’t do quick fixes. That’s for amateurs."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, genuinely impressed despite himself. He had expected someone more nervous, someone he could easily rattle. But this woman? She wasn’t having any of it.

"Alright, doc," he said, nodding slightly, acknowledging her stance. "You’ve got my attention. What’s next?"

Y/N adjusted her glasses, flipping a page in her notebook. "Next? We talk about your progress. Or, we can sit here in silence while you continue throwing sarcastic remarks at me. I’m good with either option."

"You think I’m just gonna spill my guts? It doesn’t work like that."

"I didn’t expect it to.”

"I’m fine with silence.”

Bucky muttered, his eyes flicking to the window as if contemplating an escape. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about himself. Especially not with someone like her—someone so young and… focused.

Leaning forward slightly, his playful look faded into something darker—a cold, calculating stare. His blue eyes locked onto hers, hard and unblinking, as he gave her the same menacing look that had unnerved countless soldiers and enemies. It was the stare that said he wasn’t someone to mess with.

Most people would have flinched by now, maybe glanced away or shown some kind of discomfort. But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She met his icy stare head-on, calm and unwavering.

Seconds ticked by then into minutes. Bucky’s gaze bore into hers, daring her to crack under the pressure. But she didn’t blink. Didn’t shift in her seat. She held his stare, unshaken.

As Bucky realized she wasn’t going to back down. He clenched his jaw tighter, leaning in even more, his menacing stare intensifying. And still—nothing. Y/N just stared back at him. After what felt like an eternity, Bucky scoffed, the sound low and begrudgingly amused. He leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, clearly impressed. His smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking and more intrigued. "You didn’t even blink."

"I’ve seen worse," she shrugged.

"Most people can’t handle the stare," he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. Bucky stared at her for a moment longer, still processing that she hadn’t buckled under his intimidation.

"I’m not most people," Y/N replied, her gaze still locked on his.

"You’re not, huh?” Bucky let out another short scoff, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them gradually easing. Bucky leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if contemplating his next move.

"Alright," he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, the edge of defiance softening. "Let’s get started."

× × × ×

Bucky walked down the street, hands deep in his pockets, his mind still stuck on the therapy session with Y/N. He couldn't shake the image of her holding her ground against his menacing stare. Most people crumbled under that.

He was impressed. Hell, maybe even a little thrown off by it.

He reached a small café, the door chimed as he walked in. He’d been coming here for weeks, liking how quiet it was. Bucky slid into a booth in the corner, the furthest one from the entrance, his usual spot. The place was small, quiet—barely anyone noticed him here. That was what he liked. No eyes following him. No whispers.

As he sat down, he glanced at the menu out of habit, though he already knew what he wanted. He tapped his fingers against the table, feeling the hum of anxiety still coursing through him. His thoughts wandered back to Y/N’s. Her refusal to let him dictate the session. It had been a long time since someone had stood their ground with him.

“Same as usual?” the waitress asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Same.”

The door chimed again, and out of reflex, Bucky glanced up. His eyes landed on her—Y/N. But she was different now. She was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, her hair down, and the serious, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. She looked relaxed. For a moment, Bucky frowned. Was this the same woman from earlier?

She hadn’t noticed him yet, busy ordering her coffee at the counter. As she turned, their eyes met, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled.

It wasn’t a polite, professional smile like the one she had in the office—it was real, warm. Bucky had to admit, she was even more beautiful when she smiled like that. She made her way over to him, her expression soft and light, a stark contrast to how she’d been before.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with an amused smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either. You got a twin or something?” Bucky leaned back, trying to hide the fact that her smile had thrown him. He gave her a skeptical look, still trying to wrap his mind around the shift in her demeanor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Nope. Just me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure? Because you’re not exactly giving off the same ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe as you did earlier.”

“I save that for the office.” She laughed lightly, the sound catching him off guard again.

Bucky blinked, still half-convinced she had to be a different person. “You’re… different outside of work.”

Y/N smiled again, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how that smile completely transformed her. The serious, no-nonsense therapist was gone.

“Therapist mode can be intense,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “Gotta decompress too, you know.”

“Decompress, huh?” Bucky muttered, still eyeing her. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said with a grin. “You think I’m a robot in the office?”

“Was starting to wonder. . .”

She laughed again, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Nope. Just human.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment, taking in how much more approachable she seemed now. The difference between the Y/N sitting across from him now and the one who had held her ground in the office was stark. He hadn’t expected to see her like this—relaxed, smiling, laughing. It was almost disarming.

“You’re hard to figure out,” he said, still trying to process the shift.

She shrugged lightly. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café filling the space. Bucky glanced at her again, her soft smile lingering in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing her like this, outside of the serious office atmosphere, made him feel… at ease.

Eventually, Y/N glanced at her watch. “I should get going. Got other plans.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”

She stood, grabbing her cup. She paused for a moment, then gave him one last smile—a sweet one, the kind that lit up her whole face, making her seem even more different than the woman who had stared him down earlier.

“See you at the next session?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, half-joking, "Hm, I don’t know."

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, her eyes holding him with a quiet confidence. "I will see you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, her voice more insistent this time, not leaving room for doubt.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, "What’s the point of asking then?”

As she walked out of the café, Bucky leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a small smile. She had completely thrown him. Her smile, her relaxed demeanor—it was all so different from what he’d expected. For a moment, he wondered if she really did have a twin. But then again, maybe she was just someone with more layers than he’d first realized.

And he found himself eager to know more.

× × × ×

Steve Rogers wasn’t sure how he had gotten talked into this. Well, actually, he knew exactly how—Sam Wilson had dragged him along to this party, claiming Steve needed to “loosen up” and enjoy life more. But standing in the middle of a loud, flashing room with music pounding in his ears, Steve wondered if he should have pushed harder to stay home.

"Come on, Cap," Sam had said with a mischievous grin as they walked through the entrance earlier. "You’ve been in retirement long enough. Time to see what the world’s been up to while you were busy saving it."

Steve stood near the bar now, trying to blend in, his eyes scanning the room. People were dancing wildly, laughing, and having fun in the swirling haze of strobe lights. It was a far cry from the kinds of parties he had attended back in the 1940s—those had been calm, slow, and filled with small talk and jazz music.

This? This was chaos.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He had barely touched his drink when Sam elbowed him from the side, laughing. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route. Relax, Cap. Have fun.”

Before Steve could respond, Sam was swept into the crowd by some friends, leaving Steve standing alone by the bar. Even in the anonymity of the darkened room, Steve still attracted attention. His broad shoulders, strong jawline, and quietly confident presence drew glances from several women who were passing by. The strobe lights occasionally highlighted his features, and more than a few curious eyes lingered on him as he stood by the bar.

“Hey there,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice loud to be heard over the music. “You look like you’re way too good-looking to be standing here alone.”

Steve smiled politely, keeping his distance. “Just here with some friends,” he said, not giving much away.

She stepped a little closer, her eyes lingering on him. “Well, maybe I could keep you company?”

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Just enjoying the night.”

She looked a little surprised but shrugged it off with a casual smile. “Your loss,” she said with a wink, before disappearing back into the crowd.

Steve let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing as she left. He wasn’t here for that kind of attention, though it seemed inevitable. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sam or Bucky, but before he could move, another woman approached.

He was just about to step away from the bar when another woman, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, appeared beside him.

“I’ve seen you reject at least ten girls in the last ten minutes,” she said, her voice teasing. “Either you’ve got impossibly high standards or you’re just too shy to admit you’re having fun.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Neither, really. Just here with some friends. Trying to keep a low profile.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A guy like you, keeping a low profile? Good luck with that.”

Steve smiled, nodding toward the crowd. “Seems like it’s working so far.”

The woman laughed, but before she could say more, the crowd surged again, and someone bumped into Steve, almost spilling his drink.

“Sorry about that,” a voice said, half-shouting over the music.

Steve turned and caught a glimpse of another woman, this one different from the others. She was barely recognizable in the strobe lights, her features blurred by the darkness, but something about the way she carried herself caught his attention. She didn’t linger too long on him, and didn't try too hard. Her smile was brief but real.

“No problem,” Steve replied, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

“Not your scene?” she asked, leaning a little closer to be heard.

“Not exactly,” Steve admitted, putting a finger in to cover one ear.

She laughed lightly, stepping closer, her eyes catching the light for a brief second. “Same. My friend dragged me here. I’m pretty sure she thinks I need to ‘loosen up’.”

“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Steve said, feeling a bit more at ease. She had a warmth in her voice, even amidst the chaos.

Before either of them could say more, a group of partygoers surged by, and one of them grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. She was caught off guard, stumbling a bit before turning back toward Steve, her hand still caught in the wave.

“Come on!” she shouted over the music, her face lit up with a playful grin.

“No—I don’t think—”

Steve hesitated. He wasn’t much of a dancer—especially not in a place like this—but before he could protest, Y/N grabbed his hand, tugging him into the crowd. The pulsing rhythm of the music pounded in his chest as they were swept into the moving mass of people. The lights flashed wildly, and before Steve knew it, he was dancing, caught up in the infectious energy of the room.

Y/N laughed as they moved, her hand still in his, and Steve found himself smiling despite the overwhelming atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting everything in flashes of light and shadow, and for a moment, it was easy to forget who he was, to forget the weight he usually carried.

Steve didn’t have time to react before he found himself right behind her, the sea of people pushing them closer together. The music pounded through the room, the heavy bass vibrating under their feet. Steve felt her back press against his chest, her body swaying in time with the beat.

The lights flashed, casting her in and out of shadow, but Steve was caught in the moment. She moved to the music effortlessly, her hips swinging in rhythm, her back brushing against him with every movement. He felt the warmth of her body through his shirt, the closeness sparking something inside him he hadn’t expected.

The lyrics of the song echoed through the room: “I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off, take off all your makeup, baby, take it off. . . I just wanna watch you when you take it off, take off all your clothes and watch you take them off.”

Y/N's body moved in perfect sync with the music, and Steve, despite his hesitation, found himself falling into the rhythm. Her hips pressed against him, swaying seductively in time with the beat. He hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her hips, unsure but drawn in by the intensity of the moment.

The crowd pushed them even closer together, and Steve’s grip on her hips tightened instinctively. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned into him, moving her body against his, teasing, playful, completely in tune with the energy of the music. Her head tilted slightly, her hair brushing against his neck, and Steve felt his pulse quicken.

She bit her lower lip, glancing back at him through the lights, a playful spark in her eyes. Steve’s breath caught, his hands sliding up slightly from her waist as their bodies continued to move together. The energy between them was electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before. The music drowned out everything but the pounding of his heart and the feel of her body so close to his.

Suddenly, the crowd pushed them even closer, and in the heat of the moment, Y/N turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. It was a brief touch, but it sent a shock through him. His grip tightened on her hips, and before either of them could think, their movements slowed, the tension between them peaking.

“I just can't wait to see it all I'm so turned on”

Y/N turned her head fully, her lips finding his in a fast, unexpected kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted-in surprise, she thought and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she'd done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. It was electric, quick, but charged with the energy of the moment.

Steve’s world narrowed to just the two of them—the music, the lights, the crowd—all vanished as her lips met his. He stopped her, just for a moment, then flipped it, deepening the kiss with a flick of his tongue and a firm grip on her hip. Now it was him kissing her, her soft sigh filling the space between them. He responded with heat, his desire matching the unexpected pleasure he found in her.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left both of them breathless. Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t expected it either. They were still close, her breath mingling with his as they caught their bearings.

Before either of them could speak, Y/N's friends found her and pulled her with them unaware of Steve, and she was swept away, disappearing into the throng of dancers. Steve stood there, frozen for a second, his heart still racing from the kiss, his hands still tingling from where he’d touched her.

He blinked, trying to steady himself, but she was already gone, lost in the mass of people. The music still pounded around him, the lights still flashed, but all Steve could focus on was the ghost of her lips on his and the wild, unexpected energy of the night.

Steve shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his—it was all too new, too different. The way young people dance these days, he thought, he can’t believe he allowed himself to be dragged like that. It was nothing like what he was used to. He exhaled slowly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. Pushing through the crowd, he scanned the room for Sam. He was going to get an earful for this.

Steve spotted Sam by the bar, laughing with a couple of friends, and beside him was Bucky, nursing a drink and quietly observing the room. Steve made his way over, still feeling the lingering heat of the moment and trying his best to shake it off.

Sam noticed him approaching and immediately grinned, raising his drink in greeting. “There he is! Our man of the hour!” Sam shouted over the music, his voice laced with amusement.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but no less curious.

“I don’t know about that,” Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the slight flush still creeping up his neck.

Sam’s grin widened as he leaned in closer. “Come on, Cap, you’ve got that look on your face. What happened?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell them. But Sam already knew him too well, and Bucky… well, there was no escaping his sharp gaze either.

“Nothing,” Steve said with a shrug, hoping to play it off.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing, huh?” He took a sip of his drink, but the teasing gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when I saw you on the dance floor with… what’s her name?”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, “You saw that?”

Sam burst out laughing, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Oh, I saw it. The whole room probably saw it! You were practically glued to her!”

Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a little too much fun.”

Steve shot him a glare, but the way Sam wiggled his eyebrows made it impossible to stay serious.

Bucky, still quiet, finally smirked. “You’re not exactly blending into the background there, punk.”

“It just… happened, alright?” Steve admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to explain. “We were dancing, and the crowd kept pushing us together. And then…”

“And then you kissed her!” Sam finished for him, laughing again. “Oh man, Cap, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me! It just happened—like in the heat of the moment.”

“Yeah, because ‘heat of the moment’ sounds nothing like you.” Bucky chuckled, finally downing his alcohol.

Steve shot him a look, “Who's side are you on?”

“The ‘heat of the moment’? You mean to tell me you got caught up in the lights and music and had your little dance-floor moment? That’s priceless!” Sam was practically doubled over with laughter now.

“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know her.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the teasing.

Sam straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t matter, man. That’s what makes it even better! You don’t know her, and you still ended up in some steamy dance-floor kiss? That’s wild for you.”

Steve groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniable.

“Well, I’ll say this,” Sam said, leaning in closer with a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises, Cap. I thought you’d be sitting in a corner all night, but instead, you’re out here stealing kisses in the middle of a crowd.”

“Okay, fine. It was… unexpected. But I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

Sam raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. “Unexpected, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when you’re practically glued to someone in the middle of a party? I mean, the way you two were moving—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were auditioning for a music video.”

Steve sighed, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel amused at the whole situation. He never expected to get caught up in something like that.

“I didn’t even get her name,” he said, almost to himself.

Bucky tilted his head. “Classic.”

Sam’s grin softened into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe that’s the universe telling you it’s time to loosen up a little. Enjoy the ride.”

Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

Sam clapped him on the back again. “Look, Cap, you’ve spent your whole life saving the world. You deserve to have moments like that. Maybe even more than most people.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. The memory of her lips on his, the way their bodies had moved together—it wasn’t something he was likely to forget anytime soon.

Sam raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Captain America, finally letting loose.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Steve chuckled and clinked his glass against Sam and Bucky's.

“You’re doing just fine, Cap,” Sam said with a wink. “Just fine.”

+ + + +

Y/N’s heels clicked against the smooth marble floors of the mansion’s foyer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security system beeped, and she casually entered the code, the familiar beep fading into silence. The house was large, quiet, and pristine—almost too quiet after the chaos of the party.

She kicked off her heels, phone pressed to her ear as she continued her animated conversation with her best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was insane,” Y/N laughed, still buzzing from the energy of the night. “I don’t even know how I ended up on the dance floor, but there I was, dancing like I had no care in the world. And, oh my god, there was this guy...”

She paused, biting her lip at the memory of the mysterious man she’d danced with. The lights had made it impossible to see him clearly, but the way he moved, how his hands had felt on her hips—it sent a thrill through her just thinking about it.

“I didn’t catch his name,” she continued, flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. “But we were so close, and when we kissed... girl, I don’t even know what came over me.”

Her friend gasped on the other end of the line, clearly invested in every word. “Wait, you kissed him? Who are you right now?”

“I don’t know!” Y/N laughed again—almost squealing, “It was one of those wild party moments, you know? The music was loud, people were everywhere, and then—boom—his lips were on mine.”

“Omg, didn’t you get his number?”

“No.” She frowned then she smiled to herself, enjoying the carefree thrill of the memory. “Honestly, I thought I’d regret it, but no. Imagine that? My dad would kill me.”

As she continued recounting the night, a slight rustling from the other side of the room made her pause. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone. In the doorway stood Thaddeus Ross, her father, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

He cleared his throat loudly, the sound cutting through the excited chatter still flowing from her phone. Y/N froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized she’d been caught mid-party recap in her usually reserved father’s presence.

Her friend’s voice buzzed in her ear, still going on about the party, but Y/N quickly pulled the phone away, muttering, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up. The excitement drained from her face, replaced by a nervous smile.

“Dad,” Y/N greeted, forcing a casual smile. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Apparently, you didn’t. Sounded like quite the party.” Thaddeus Ross narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping further into the room.

Y/N stood, suddenly aware of how much she’d let herself unwind. She straightened her clothes and tried to appear nonchalant. “It was just a party with some friends. No big deal.”

Thaddeus arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”

“Yeah, friends. You know, just... normal people.” Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Thaddeus studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, as if trying to piece together the details she hadn’t given him.

“I see,” he finally said, his tone unreadable. “It sounded a bit more... involved than your usual nights out.”

Y/N swallowed, brushing off the heat rising in her cheeks. “It was just for fun, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just gave her a long, assessing look.

“You know how important it is to keep certain parts of your life secure, Y/N,” he said in that familiar, commanding tone of his. “People might take advantage if they know too much about who you really are.”

Y/N gave him a playful smile, trying to brush off his seriousness. “Dad, I’m 24. I should be out there kissing strangers at parties by now, right?”

Thaddeus didn’t smile. He simply sighed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest.

“I wasn’t wearing a neon sign that said ‘Mr. President’s Daughter’ on it. It was just a party. I’m allowed to have fun.” Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone still light but more pointed now.

Thaddeus didn’t seem to be swayed by her attempt to joke. “Having fun is one thing, but keeping yourself safe is another. You may think these parties are harmless, but they aren’t always what they seem.”

“Dad, relax. I know how to keep myself out of trouble. I mean, come on, I live here, don’t I? No one’s getting past your fortress.” Y/N sighed, but her smile remained.

Thaddeus gave her a long, measured look, as if deciding how much more to say. Finally, he relented just slightly, his voice softening. “It’s not just about the security, Y/N. It’s about the people you surround yourself with.”

Y/N softened her tone too, standing up to face him. “I get it, Dad. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m not going to live in fear. I can take care of myself.”

Thaddeus didn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking to the security system panel before returning to her. “Just... be careful. Not everyone you meet at those parties will have good intentions.”

“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N nodded, her earlier playfulness giving way to a more serious understanding.

Thaddeus gave a short nod, clearly not fully convinced but unwilling to push the conversation any further tonight. “Good. Just remember what I said.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there with the lingering weight of his words. As the tension dissolved, she let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m 24,” she muttered to herself, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“I heard that!” Thaddeus yelled from another area of the house.

“You were supposed to!”

Despite everything, the memory of the night—the music, the dancing, the kiss—still played in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Next Chapter

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 1 year ago

Text

Do I make you nervous?

Originally published on my wattpad: slvt4em1lyprenti2s

Summary: Unit Chief em noticed that you get a little flustered around her and she picks up on your crush

Word Count: 1.9k

Fluff, (kissing)

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

(ik it's chief em but Derek and Spencer are still gunna be in the BAU)

Emily's pov:

I walked to the round table as I just got notified about a case out in Montana and had called in the team. I was setting out everyone's tablets and got Garcia to send them the case information.

I heard some shuffling behind me and footsteps approaching the room. I turned around and saw y/n, she's a younger agent that joined the team around 2 years ago. She's an amazing profiler and has adapted to the team well, although she always seems to be a bit nervous around me. I'm not sure if it's because I'm her boss, or maybe she finds me intimidating? I'm not sure.

"Hey!" she says in her usually cheery voice.

"Hi, you got here quick." I say surprised at her speed, I only called them in like, 10 minutes ago.

"Yeah, I was in the area, so I just came in." She was looking everywhere but my eyes and a rosey tint stained her face. I smirked to myself as she set down her coffee cup and took a seat.

Reader pov:

Oh my god. Could she be anymore hot? Like I know she's my boss and quite a bit older than me but, hey, a girl can dream. She can obviously feel my stare and turns round to look at me, I instantly avert my gaze to the tablet in front of me and start flicking through the crime scene photos.

"Y/n/n, can I ask you something?" She asks as she stalks closer to me. Heat rises up my neck and into my face once again.

"Uh- uhm yeah ofc course." At that moment Garcia walks through the door completely oblivious (which is very strange, she notices everything) of all the tension she just walked in on.

"Okay so, the case was sent to the tablets 15 minutes ago, the jet is ready and everyone should be here- oh y/n/n hi!" her voice lifting my mood instantly. Pen has that effect on everyone she meets and I love that about her.

"Hi Pen!" I reply just as enthusiastically, happy to have the previous conversation interrupted.

Once Garcia had come in she was closely followed by: Spencer, Rossi, Tara, Derek and JJ. We all sit down, ready to be briefed about the case.

"Okay so we're going to the one and only Treasure state of Montana my crime fighting friends..."

Time skip to when they're in Montana:

Emily pov:

Me and y/n are setting up in the local PD while everyone else is out at either, crime scenes, disposal sights or interviewing witnesses. I chose for her to stay with me because she's been acting weird around me ever since she joined the team but, it's been getting worse recently. I was going to ask her about it in the meeting room earlier but, we were interrupted by Garcia.

"Can you pass me the photos from the scene?" She asks, looking at me with those gorgeous y/e/c eyes. She's your subordinate Emily Jesus- I mean she's been acting weird but that doesn't mean she likes you! I look around in the case box and pull out the photos, she had shifted her position so she was now not facing me. I walked over and brushed my hands over her lower back and handed them to her. Her head snapped round to face me as she took the photos. Her fingers danced over mine as she took them from my hand. I see her blushing as she smiles and look back to the board. This is going to be fun.

Reader pov:

HUH? Her hand brushed and lingered on my back and she touched my hand as she gave me the photos. God I don't know if I'm reading too far into this. I really hope I'm not.

I begin pinning up the photos as Derek and Spencer walk in the room.

"You got something?" Emily asks them expectantly.

"Yeah, a plate from the vehicle the UnSub used to kidnap Sarah Johnston. 24Y-FTX." Spencer said as he picked up his phone, presumably to call Garcia.

"Already? So this is going to be over quite quick then, huh?" Derek looks over and nods as Garcia's voice rung out from Reid's phone.

"The car is registered to a Gary Solomon, and Ive got a home address and he's unemployed so no work address! Sending it to you now!" Pen hung up as we checked our phones.

"Get JJ, Rossi and Tara to meet us there." Emily tells Morgan as we all walk to the SUV's. Derek and Spencer get into one, leaving the other to me and Emily. Great.

We climb into the car and speed off in the direction of the house. I can feel Emily's eyes on me at points but I choose to ignore her and focus on saving the girl he took.

We pull up to the house and get ready with the team to storm it, going in our original groups, me and em round the back, JJ, Rossi take the left, Tara and Spencer take the right, and Derek breaks down the door and goes in the front. We go in through the back, Emily in front of me and we begin our sweep through the house. Doors are swung open and signals are passed left and right.

"Hey, stop a sec." Emily says holding up her hand. I hear a faint creaking of floorboards to our left. I raise my gun and point it down the dark hallway of the house. We being walking down it, slowly as to not give away our position.

"Look out!" I hear Emily say before she grabs me by my hips and pulls me flush against her. I hear a bullet whistle past my ear. I lift my gun and shoot the guy a few times before he drops to the ground.

A sigh of relief escapes my mouth as Morgan simultaneously radios in that they found the girl. It takes me a second to realise Emily is still gripping my hips and that if I were to move an inch closer our lips would touch. I clear my throat and break away from her warmth as I go to check the guy is gone. As I suspect, he's dead so we call in the ambulance crew to pick him up.

"Good work here today guys, the jet isn't leaving till the morning as it's too late right now but, I think we could all do with a little sleep. Garcia booked a hotel just down the street so let's get going." A chorus of 'thank god's' and 'good, I didn't want to sleep in the jet' rippled through the night air as we made our way to the SUV's once again.

Time skip to when they're at the hotel:

Emily pov:

I walk over to the front desk and ask for the reservations made under the name Prentiss, and the lady at the desk tells me there's been 4 rooms booked, two double and two single as they were sold out of everything else. Instantly JJ and Tara, and Spencer and Derek pair up and run to grab the keys for the double room and speed off before we can argue. I look at Rossi and can see he clearly doesn't want to share a room which I totally understand and hand him a key to his own room.

"Looks like we're roommates for the night," I say to the y/h/c standing next to me. As soon as I said it she averted her eyes from raking up my body to the floor. She muttered something I couldn't quite make out but I chose to not push due to her demeanour, something about us sharing a room is making her nervous and I think I know exactly what. We step into the lift and I click the floor we're on, y/n was slightly in my way as I did it so I help her waist to get lean over her, I felt her tense and the relax under my touch. I stand beside her as we start our silent ascent to our floor.

Reader pov:

I'm sharing a room, with one bed, with Emily Prentiss. If I wasn't so helplessly attracted to her I'd be okay, but, I'm helplessly attracted to her so...

We walk to our room and she swipes the key card to let us in. There isn't even a sofa to sleep on. Great, so we're definitely sharing a bed.

We move silently as we change and do our nighttime routines. Emily starts walking towards me as I brush my hair in the full length mirror.

"I never got to ask you that question you know," My breath catches in my throat at the proximity. I can feel her hot breath on my neck, and her hands ghost over my waist as she speaks. I stiffen at the touch and look away. "Do I make you nervous?" I dryly swallow as I look at her.

"What would you do if I said yes?"

"You'll have to find out."

I turn around and meet her eyes, her hands are now firmly planted on my waist, her grey hair falling perfectly over her shoulders and her pyjama tanktop capturing her figure perfectly. My arms find their way around her neck as I lean in a little bit closer, her nose brushes over mine as I do so.

"Yes, you do." I whisper, feeling my breath fan over her lips.

As soon as I finish my sentence she closes the gap in a soft, slow kiss. It's warm and comforting, as our lips dance together as if we've done this a thousand times before. The cage of butterflies in my stomach doubles and she puts her right hand on my cheek and starts caressing my face as she deepens the kiss by running her tongue over my bottom lip and asking for entrance, which I gladly gave. Our tongues fight for dominance, and she quickly wins that battle. She explores my mouth, not leaving an inch untouched. I happily sigh into the kiss, who knew she felt the same way? Air begins to become a problem and we pull away. Her dark eyes, stare at me for a moment before pulling me back in to peck my lips once more.

"When we get back home, do you want to go on a date with me?" Emily seems nervous to ask the question, which I find weird for two reasons: one, is the em is never nervous and two, her tongue was just down my throat, what does she think?

"I'd love to em." I smile ear to ear as I get pulled into her warm embrace.

"C'mon let's go to sleep, it's getting late." I agree with her as we slip under the covers, our bodies mould together as if we were two puzzle pieces sliding into place. She was behind me, spooning me and she had her arms wrapped tight around me. I had my head under hers and one my arms are tangled with hers as they wrap around me. She kisses the crown of my head as I drift of to sleep, my only thought being that this, us, it just feels right.

She's my person.

A/N: lmao sleep deprived and had motivation sorry if it isn't great, DONT FORGET TO LEAVE REQUESTS!!!

#wlw #lesbian #sapphic #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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cyberrat · 4 months ago

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93rd Batch Of Fics: 3rd Fill

Viktor/Jayce – Part ⅗ – age difference; Jayce ca 24y; Viktor ca 40y; transman Viktor; cunnilingus; fingering – Jayce might have the disposition of a puppy but when he's got something he wants, he's going to do anything to get it.

---

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“That one? Really?”

“Yup. Belongs to the doctor.”

“Damn.”

Jayce can hear murmurs on his walk to the clinic but he can’t quite make out the words. He frowns but he’s arrived at his destination and puts the odd rumbles in the undercity out of his mind.

Stepping foot in the narrow, dark rooms always makes him feel like there’s a heaviness lifted from his shoulders. He’s aware that the reason for that might be the person inside. He’s got a tiny crush on that guy. That handsome, older guy that has managed to harness magic, if only once…

All the cots are occupied this time, a miserable groan filling the thick air. Jayce frowns, eyes seeking out Viktor who is standing at the back, leaning over… someone. Jayce can’t make out much with the dark robe they’ve wrapped themselves in. The other is talking in a low, intense voice that sends an electric shudder across Jayce’s skin. A second later, Viktor straightens himself marginally and looks over to see Jayce standing there. He waves him close, impatient, and calls instructions over to him without a greeting. Like Jayce coming here has become as much of a routine as anything else.

It makes him feel all warm and gooey inside even as he jumps quickly into action to follow orders.

Like a good boy.

.oOo.

“You overexerted yourself.”

“Yes, so you’ve been saying. I would wager a good… five times now.”

Jayce has stooped low to let Viktor throw one skinny arm across his shoulders and lift most of his weight. It’s startling, really, how damn light he is.

“You should have used your crutch more and sat down a little between patients.”

“Mmmh. Sounds familiar, yes. You might have said that, as well. Just a couple of times.”

“It’s just-” Jayce blows an agitated breath to stop himself from sounding too much like his mother. He wraps his arms around Viktor’s skinny torso, large hands splayed on the small of his back to support him as the other carefully lowers himself into his office chair, both of his arms around Jayce’s neck as he does so.

Like this, Viktor’s pained little whimpers are right next to Jayce’s ear. Jayce closes his eyes, trying desperately not to react; but Viktor’s breath is warm and fanning against his quickly flushing neck.

“It’s just that I don’t want to see you in pain,” he mutters in a low voice. Viktor seems to still for a moment, then slowly pulls his arms from around Jayce’s neck. Jayce has a second to preemptively mourn the loss of contact but Viktor’s bony hands don’t quite leave his person. One frames the hinge of his jaw, the other is cupped against the side of his neck, spindly long fingers curled against the nape and up into his short hair to keep him bend down over the other. Keep him close. Jayce’s heart thumps faster.

Viktor’s eyes are narrowed, looking at Jayce with such scrutiny that he simply freezes in place obediently, bent over Viktor in an awkward half-crouch, his hands fluttering nervously about his person; not quite daring to touch.

There’s a clock on the wall behind Jayce, ticking the seconds away loud and obnoxious. Sweat pricks up itchy and sticky along his spine – and when Viktor just simply keeps staring and not saying anything, Jayce slowly, hesitantly squats further down until he is sitting on his haunches in front of a seated Viktor.

Viktor’s lips twitch into a smirk at that. The one in his hair curls marginally, scratching short nails against his skin. “Good puppy.”

Jayce flushes hotter. He finally takes his hands to himself, slowly grasping them together in his lap. He feels warm and tingly all over, his chest so full with Viktor, but-

“I want to be more than just your puppy,” he whispers, heart beating up into his throat, palms getting sweaty in his lap. He’s painfully aware of each placement of Viktor’s fingers against his skin and knows he’s too eager… too honest and open. But he can’t help it.

He’s in love for the first time and Viktor is the unwitting victim of his desperate, hopeful affection.

The smirk on Viktor’s face freezes, one brow twitching. Slowly his expression twists, a few crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes briefly becoming deeper. He’s not taking his hands off of Jayce, though and Jayce clutches at that fact desperately; trying to let it soothe him from having a nervous breakdown.

Viktor’s voice is low, his accent clicking soft and tantalizing in his throat as he mutters: “So terribly earnest… you would make for a horrible Zaunite.” His thumb starts moving then; a slow back-and-forth swipe against Jayce’s cheekbone. Jayce tilts his head into the touch, his heart creeping down from the middle of his throat to once again pound wild and nervous in his chest.

Viktor watches him quietly, his face finally settling into a more somber expression as he takes his hand away from Jayce’s jaw. Before he can really process that, long fingers slide over his forehead and into his hair, rubbing his scalp in firm, little circles. “You’re too young and pretty to be down here, Jayce.” He turns his head, throwing a glance toward the desk behind him where his personal research notes have started to get mixed up quite a bit with Jayce’s findings. “...too smart as well.”

“You’re the most fascinating person I’ve ever met,” Jayce blurts out. Too overeager but unable to do anything about it.

Viktor pulls another face and mutters something along the lines of ‘I stand corrected…’ but Jayce ignores it in favor of leaning forward and into the touch of the older man’s hair, his chest pressing against Viktor’s good knee. “Let me be your apprentice. We can do so much more when I’m living down here.”

He can see how Viktor shuts off, the light somehow dimming in his eyes. His gaunt features look stark and severe, so Jayce hurriedly changes tactics. He grasps the skinny calf of Viktor’s injured leg, feeling stringy, hard muscles in his palm. “At least let me help you with the pain? You can’t think straight like this.”

Viktor slowly takes his hand out of Jayce’s hair but only to slowly, thoughtfully give his cheek a few little slaps. Like he is unable to stop touching him constantly – and that makes Jayce so, so happy. “How on earth do you want to ‘help me’? I’ve been with this thing for longer than you’ve even been alive.”

His mouth twitches. He looks a bit horrified at that conclusion and Jayce, in a bid to overwrite his own overeager brain so he would not blurt out how much their age difference turns him on, slips his fingers across the scuffed leather clasps of the other’s leg brace.

“Let me massage you. I’ve been told I have magic fingers.”

“By whom… lovers? The ones you should be with right now instead of an old, cantankerous-”

“My mother.”

Jayce blinks up at him and Viktor blinks down at him and after a moment of stunned silence they both start to laugh – Viktor a low little chuckle that he hides behind an uncharacteristically trembling hand, and Jayce with his face down and pressed against the side of Viktor’s narrow thigh to hide the furious flush blooming on his cheeks.

They both calm down again quick enough, the ticking of the clock filling the thick air once more. Goodness, has it always been this loud and obnoxious?

He feels a fleeting little touch on his head; Viktor brushing over his hair.

“Stubborn as a mule,” the other whispers, voice gone throaty and doing things to Jayce. He can tell he’s finally cracked the other’s defenses. “Alright then. Give me that massage.”

#cyberratting writes stuff #viktor/jayce #jayvik #trans viktor #we're getting there folks #next chapter is getting good and spicy and I am low key obsessed

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spiderinfestedcomics · 6 months ago

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Oh boy,

So it’s really happening huh? Good ol Tiktok is getting banned. Well.. Guess I should try to regain my following I worked so hard for here. Hi, welcome to my page! Im a 24y/o artist from Ohio. I go by Lilith or Amanda

As of writing this post my main interests are

-Cult of the Lamb

-Gravity Falls

-The Owl House

-Squid Game

Feel free to follow. Ill be posting my art here soon.

#new account #tiktok #artwork #artists on tumblr #digital art #follow #welcome post #Spotify

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postsofbabel · 6 days ago

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#posts of babel #neue posts of babel #screenreader unfriendly #eyestrain

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rozeliyawashereyall · 1 year ago

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Going into a lil more detail about Korey, her scars, and relationship with her parents

KoreyAdiel

Firstly! The Adiel family are from Aakhan. Korey's parents are VERY well off, not struggling with anything major other than being horrible parents to their kids.

Korey has 2 brothers! The oldest is Esra at 24y/o and the youngest is Noah at 14y/o. And of course her adopted brother that I definitely didn't kidnap is Varen by @keyaartz <3

She first joined the hunters at 14 after losing a bet with one of the more experienced hunters, and because of the thrill.

Now, i've mentioned this multiple times that she does not have a good relationship with her parents, if there even was a relationship in the first place. Being neglected and ignored by the people who are supposed to care for you is obviously painful, mix that in with Korey's at the time undiscovered hypomania (which is basically a milder version of being manic) and prosopagnosia, the neglect affected her a lot worse than average.

So in turn, from when she was about 6 years old, started putting herself in dangerous situations to get their attention, to look at her just once. And, as she got older, her parents image started getting more and more blurry thanks to her face blindness. At 9 years old, in desperation and child naivety, she took a pair of scissors and tried to gouge out her eyes to give them to her parents, one for each, because in her head, her parents don't have eyes to see her, to look at her, so she'll give them hers.

Don't worry though! Her older brother Esra stopped her before she actually gouged out her eyes, it did leave a scar though, it's one of the three scars on her face.

Back to the neglect– Korey, unfortunately, wasn't exactly taught where the line is and when to not cross it, sure her grandparents taught her the basics of what's right and what's wrong, but have never once gone in depth about it, leaving Korey to learn boundaries the hard way. She's a lot better morally so!

Now- it's pretty obvious Korey has a lot, like a LOT of scars, most are from her being a reckless idiot desperate for her parents attention, though she does have ones that aren't from her dangerous adventures.

Example! The scar on her neck. she got that one when she was trying to save her best friend Jay from a very violent half-blood. Unfortunately, Jay didn't make it and Korey couldn't talk for about 2 weeks while her injury healed. Another wound caused by a half-blood is a HUGE scar on her back in an X shape, she got that one when she was on her first hunt at 14 y/o, she ended up catching them in the end though. She does also have scars from many, many fights.

Now from that, you can tell Korey didn't have the best experiences with half-bloods– but even then, she didn't have much of an opinion on them till she met the boys. Mostly just thinking of them as a lil more violent, strange looking person.

The rest of her scars are self inflicted to get parents attention. Actually has a burn scar on the covered side of her face from when she quite literally pushed herself into the fire, she's fine tho dw

Now– Korey is naturally hyper, it runs in the family. Her never-ending energy is actually the result of an old ancestor of the Adiel's delving into magic and drugs, though it was more magic than anything, explaining her ability to use it even if it's a little weaker than average.

Also she has INSANELY high pain tolerance?? She could jump off a mountain and barely feel anything. She can also be a little insecure about her scars when asked about them, developing a bit of body dysmorphia, but she's managing! Also gets so shy when her scars get complimented >_<

But y'know despite going through hell and back, she's still so, so trusting of others.

Let me know if you've got any questions :3!

+some doodles of Korey!

#backstory #Adiel Lore #the bug army #obsidian lantern #gator boys

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the-chamber-confessional · 1 month ago

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the confession chamber

. . . a confessional blog for all your dirty, perverted, fucked-up secrets you can't tell anyone else <3

~ rules & more ~

this blog is strictly nsfw. minors do not interact.

that being said, anything to do with pedophilia (including age play) is a no-go

I will not answer any asks that are sent off anon. you can claim an anon tag if you'd like, but I will not risk anyone's safety here.

the only blacklisted topics here are zoo-, necro-, and pedophilia. anything else is okay and welcomed :)

don't harass or kink shame anyone. please. what the fuck.

this blog is owned by a 24y/o person. just call me admin, any pronouns work for me.

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chaelinsbitch · 2 months ago

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I was at work with the following coworkers : 24y/o . 28 y/o. 29 y/o. All women. SCENARIO: I reference go piss girl meme. Everyone looks at me weird. I'm like yk go piss girl like the old meme go piss girl I quote it all the time. They're like what the fuck are you talking about. I look to 24 year old. I'm like you're kidding be so serious. She's like I don't know. I make reference to another current active meme which I cannot recall at the moment. She has no idea what I'm talking about. This entire interaction ends with them thinking I'm insane. Everyday I am reminded that there are people who don't use the internet despite their age

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voidster3 · 11 months ago

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Hello again, it's me. I really do apologize for the huge spaces between updates, but I really do try to put effort into describing every donation/fundraiser that I post, in the hopes that by humanizing the victims, I am able to reach a wider audience.

@hayanahed has been vetted by operation olive branch and is listed as #26 on their spreadsheet! Haya's family was displaced almost immediately 10+ months ago when they evacuated per the occupation forces instructions (which we know is a cruel game of hide and go seek, with the seekers being the bombs that destabilize and destroy hundreds of thousands' lives and their shelters, their hospitals, and their right to live peacefully. Please donate to them, as they are very close to accomplishing their goal -- they have raised €75,050 / €100,000 at the time of posting.

@abuzuhrisahar1 -- vetted #253 on the list, Sahar is critically low on funds -- only having raised €651 out of a €20,000 goal. She has four children and is currently pregnant. In addition to her pregnancy, she was also diagnosed with breast cancer, making her life so much more difficult as the occupation forces continue to block aid and food into the region. Please donate to her campaign, or spread with a simple reblog -- your click can do so much good. She aims to evacuate her children out of Gaza and start a new life with them, as we all have the right to.

@hamdishiltawi, verification sourced by @/mohammedalanqer here. Abd Alhadi needs your help with affording medical care, food, water, & additional rebuilding (educational pursuits & rebuilding his business as a lawyer in order to create a source of income. Every donation counts -- so far, he has raised $3,303 /$65,000CAD goal.

@yousefjehad3, vetted by @/90-ghost. Yousef is only 18 years old, living in a displacement camp in Deir al-Balah. His father is very sick and unable to work, so Yousef works in his place, a desperate attempt to provide for his family. His little brother is also sick with Hepatitis of the early stages, due to a lack of food and clean environments. Yousef is often unable to eat himself, and several weeks may pass before he is able to provide food for his little brother. Currently, Yousef has only raised $3,215 (he needs to raise $11,785 to meet his goal of $15,000). You can donate to him here.

@ayoosh-gaza is currently unvetted but appears to be legit. You can find her Instagram at @ayaa_mahmood99. She is a 24 year old children's teacher seeking to evacuate her father, mother,and 4 sisters + 4 brothers (8 siblings total). Then they will need additional funds to afford daily life -- food costs are very high in Gaza right now. What only cost €50 before now costs $600-$700 or even more than that.

@savepalestineinfamily19 vouched for here -- at the time of posting, Mohammed has only raised €5,076 /€50,000 in his goal to evacuate Gaza himself(24y) along with his brother Momun(23y), his sisters Basmala(18y), Sarah(14y), & Yomna(8y). He also seems to evacuate hs mother Subrin(43y) and his father Majed(54y). If you can donate even €5, please do so here.

@dodiahmed123 -- not yet vetted but likely legitimate (no reverse image detected, attached recordings) is attempting to evacuate Gaza with his 4 year old son and remaining family members. He is extremely low on funds, at €534/€20,000.

Repeating myself with following fundraisers:

- @mohammad-atallah, shot by an explosive bullet and in dire need of donations to fund a bone graft for his hand. He is in desperate need of donations, as his campaign has stagnated several times since I answered his ask in July. Though he has raised an additional €5,000 since then, donations have been very weak, and it is very possible they will need to amputate due to risk of infection. So far, he has raised €12,556, which is a little less than half of the needed €31,253 to operate on his arm; the remaining €49,747 will go towards rebuilding his family's house.

Please note that while Palestinians seeking to evacuate Gaza should be given every chance to do so, it is also important to provide support to those who wish to stay, as part of the colonizer efforts are focused on forcing any remaining Palestinians out of their homeland. See the Trail of Tears for reference.

- please donate to @danashehab's campaign so that the Shehab family can evacuate Gaza, as it is very close to reaching its goal of €50,000 (€39,715 atm), but they are living on a time limit, as the border will be monitored and this month is her one shot at getting her family out of 🇵🇸.

- @siraj2024's campaign s it has been stagnant for days. He gets periods of activity, but after that, the campaign stagnates for days, and the reblogs seem to also halt in activity. Siraj intends to rebuild his home, which was destroyed by the IOF, leaving him & his family to live in a tent, which reaches ungodly temperatures during the day, and because the IOF attack those collecting water, there is a high chance that they do not even have water (as Yousef describes in his campaign). His son Amir has fallen ill with a deadly skin disease (read more about it here) and needs prompt medical attention. His son had to watch his two months old cat waste away due to the horrific conditions forced upon them by the disgusting occupation forces, and learned later that his cousins had been martyred. Please do not ignore him in his time of need. You can donate to his campaign here -- at the time of posting, Siraj has raised $46,426CAD /$80,000 goal.

#please help siraj rebuild their home #help a family escape the genocide #free palestine #palestine gofundme #donate if you can #gaza genocide #stop the genocide #artists on tumblr #fuck ai art #free gaza #trail of tears #settler violence #israhell is a terrorist state

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impcstcrsyndrcme · 2 months ago

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Muse: Agatha Harrington, 24y, Bartender at a night club. "Fae" Kind. Plot: Rowan is part of an important and well known family, they go to a meeting in Agatha's work place, by the end of her shift aggie is being followed and uses Rowan as an scape goat. For Rowan @fangsandmagic I'll write this one in first person, if you don't like it or dont feel comfortable tell me and I rewrite it in third <3

My life was never really normal, I didnt know why at the time but it was like this, there was always people around me and around my mom whose interests was most times not reciprocal, when I was ten finally I'd learn why things were like they are, as she said 'it was time for me to know so I would not have trouble', I was still a child but a lot of things made a little more sense. Apparently my family was from a species of fae, long relatives with the succubi and the sirens, and because of that we had an effect on people who could consider us their type, they'd be almost in a trance state, also we had almost a venom to us that could intoxicate our partners and people we get involved with. It was a lot to take in and to be honest I still dont completely get it although I had trouble for it more than once, working in a night club downtown didn't help either, and I'm only a Bartender there. Dealing with the drunk was not easy even without my 'condition', now you can think how it was for me... I always get by tho but its tiring sometimes.

Tonight I clocked in for my shift, put on the apron over the uniform, that was just a black shirt and some jeans, and started cleaning my counter, the cups there and organizing the alcohol bottles on the shelves my way, also everything on my station so my job was easier later when the club open at 09p.m.. It was a Friday night so the bar would have a lot of promotions, I dont have to tell you that meant a full house fast and with all kinds of beings, I saw you coming to my counter and sitting at one of the empty stools, so I moved to your front with a welcoming smile.

"Good night, this is our menu for tonight, special prices. If you already know what you want to drink, please let me know." I said friendly, giving you a hardcover booklet. 'Were is my whisky?' a man sitting a few stools beside you yelled at me, clearly already drunk, this man was here since we open three hours ago, as now was already midnight. 'Hey girl! I'm talking to you!' he yell again. "Excuse me a moment please, when your ready to order just give me a sign." I say to you before going towards the man and giving him a cup of water. 'the fuck is this? I order a Whisky bitch!' he shouted.

"You are being rude and disturbing the other clients sir, the water is on the house, drink, calm down and I can keep serving you. Otherwise I'll have to call security." I answer him calm and polite, even tho I was already irritated and wanted to just flip a finger.

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brunchable · 10 months ago

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𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐱

Part Five | Seven Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 7.5K Themes: Forbidden/Off-Limits Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky finds out from Steve that Y/N is taken. Meanwhile, with her symptoms becoming a hindrance in her life, Y/N decides to visit her Doctor.

taggies: @astrelz @pattiemac1 @mrsevans90 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strepsils123

Y/N sat quietly in the passenger seat, staring at the bouquet of lilies in her lap. The flowers felt like a formality—something to soften the evening she wasn’t looking forward to.

Ethan sat beside her, his jaw clenched, hands resting on his thighs, his posture as stiff as ever. For all his calmness, she could sense he was bracing himself.

“Y/N,” Ethan’s voice broke the silence.

She blinked, her thoughts momentarily scattered, her gaze still fixed on the lilies. It took a second longer than usual to process what he had said. “Yeah?”

Ethan frowned, but he continued. “We need to talk before we go in,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “I’ve been working on something—a real way out of this. But you need to hear me out.”

Y/N shifted slightly, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the edge of her thoughts. Had she already asked him something about this earlier? Her mind had been playing tricks on her lately, short gaps in memory that made conversations blur.

“Well?” she asked, trying to push through the fog.

Ethan exhaled slowly, collecting his thoughts. “You already know we can’t just break it off out of nowhere. You know how your father is. This isn’t just about us—it’s about public perception, about politics. The media is already watching his every move, and if we do this wrong, it’s going to backfire. For both of us.”

Y/N frowned, her fingers fidgeting with the ribbon on the bouquet. She tried to focus on his words, but her thoughts slipped away like they were caught in some strange, sticky haze. She blinked hard, as if clearing her vision would clear her mind.

“You keep saying that. But what’s your actual plan, Ethan?”

“Okay, here’s what I’ve mapped out,” Ethan said, shifting slightly to face her more directly. “We can’t break it off right now—not with the event coming up. Your father is going to introduce you to the public for the first time, and we need to maintain a united front for that. There will be too many eyes on him, on us—actually. . . this plan might be crossing some dangerous territory but trust me.”

Y/N’s frustration simmered, but she let him continue.

Ethan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “After the event, we create a slow, controlled narrative. We start appearing together less in public. Gradually, we let it slip to key people that we’re focusing on our careers, that we’re ‘growing apart.’ It won’t be sudden. It’ll be gradual, subtle. The public will buy it because we’ll be feeding them a story that makes sense.”

He paused, gauging her reaction, but Y/N’s expression remained unreadable.

“So after the event,” she said slowly, “we pretend like everything’s fine for a little while longer? And what dangerous territory are you talking about?”

“Huh? Did I say that? Ignore that and just trust me,” Ethan replied, his tone firm but calculated. “It’s all going to work out, I'll tell you more during the event.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “And what about the engagement itself? What do we say about that?”

“We make it seem amicable,” Ethan continued. “We’ll say it was a mutual decision to step back.”

Y/N sat back, her mind racing as she considered his words. “And what about my father?”

Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s the tricky part. Your father won’t like it—at all. But his is where the dangerous part comes in.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened on the bouquet as she considered his plan. “What dangerous part? You said it won’t be scandalous.”

“It won’t be on our part but this is necessary. If we’re strategic, we control the narrative. So what do you say?”

Y/N let out a slow breath, her mind spinning. Ethan’s plan was cold, calculated, but it made sense. He wasn’t asking her to be patient for nothing. He had thought it through—every angle, every move. Still, the idea of keeping up the façade for a while longer felt suffocating.

“We’re running out of time,” Ethan added quietly, as the car slowed in front of the White House gates.

Y/N stared out the window at the imposing building, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to keep playing this game. But Ethan was right—this was bigger than them now.

She sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Okay.”

Ethan gave her a tight smile. “I promise. Just a little longer.”

As the car pulled up to the entrance, Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her composure. Ethan offered his arm as they stepped out, the bouquet still clutched in her hands like a shield. She glanced at him, knowing they were about to walk into another performance.

× × × ×

The Avengers were gathered on the terrace, enjoying a rare evening of relaxation. Tony manned the grill with exaggerated flair, flipping steaks while bantering with Clint, who was attempting to sneak food from the grill.

“Clint, if you steal one more piece of steak, I’m revoking your Avengers membership,” Tony warned, eyeing him as he flipped another steak on the grill.

Clint smirked, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But if you burn that one, I’m taking it.”

Clint grinned, pretending to hold up his hands in surrender. “I’m just quality-checking for you, Stark, in case you burn one. Consider it a service.”

“Please,” Tony said, waving his spatula, “I don’t burn anything. Ask anyone.”

Happy, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bold statement, considering what happened with the burgers last summer.”

Natasha chuckled from her seat at the table. “Yeah, Tony, we all remember the ‘crispy’ burgers.”

Pepper walked out of the house, smiling as she set a basket of bread on the table. “I’m surprised you all still let him near a grill.”

“Hey!” Tony protested, “My grilling is top-notch.”

Peter, who was seated between Clint and Sam, leaned forward, grinning. “Well, I mean, if this doesn’t go well, there’s always takeout, right?”

“That’s the spirit, kid,” Tony said with a wink. “Now, everyone, prepare to be amazed.”

As the group continued to banter, passing around plates of appetizers, Thor raised his goblet of mead. “I must say, this meal is already fit for a king!” He took a long drink and slammed the goblet on the table, making Peter jump.

Bruce looked amused as he sipped his drink. “Thor, you’ve had three goblets already. Maybe slow down?”

“Slow down?” Thor laughed heartily. “Nonsense, Banner! This is a night for celebration!”

“Celebration for what, exactly?” Natasha asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Does a man need a reason to celebrate among friends?” Thor replied, grinning.

Sam chuckled. “You’re always celebrating, Thor.”

As the steaks were finally placed on the table, everyone dug in. Clint immediately went for the biggest piece, earning a glare from Tony.

“Steak thief,” Tony muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Clint smirked, cutting into his steak. “What? It’s a gift.”

Peter was devouring his food with enthusiasm, looking between the adults. “This is awesome! I mean, I usually just have pizza nights with May, so this is... cool.”

Happy leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’ve gotta try the Stark steak, kid. Just don’t expect it to beat New York pizza.”

Tony shot Happy a look. “Hey, nothing beats Stark steak.”

“Not even pizza?” Peter asked, genuinely curious.

“Not even pizza,” Tony said with a smirk, winking at the kid.

As the group dug into the meal, Tony took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face. “So, speaking of dinners... anyone get an invite to the Thaddeus Ross Spectacular coming up in a few weeks?”

Pepper rolled her eyes, giving Tony a light slap on the shoulder. “Tony...”

“What?” Tony shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying, it’s not every day a guy like Ross throws a party to show off his ‘secret family.’ You’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty intriguing.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Let me guess—you’re more interested in the political gossip than the actual event?”

“Oh, come on, Nat. You know me too well.” Tony winked before turning his attention to the rest of the table. “So? Who’s going? Everyone get an invite?”

Clint leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah, got one. Not sure if I’m showing up, though.”

Sam snorted. “You? Miss a chance to rub shoulders with the political elite? Shocking.”

“Apparently, he’s been keeping his daughter hidden away, and now he’s ready for the grand reveal.” Tony chuckles.

“Why now?” Bruce asked, curious.

“Politics, probably,” Sam said, taking a sip of his drink. “Everything’s about appearances.”

Happy chuckled. “Wouldn’t put it past Ross to use his family for a political boost.”

Pepper sighed, giving Tony a nudge. “Can we not gossip, please?”

“Just saying,” Tony grinned. “It’s not every day you get an invite to something like that. So, who’s going?”

Clint nodded. “Now that I know the context, I might.”

“Same,” Sam added. “Seems like a bit of a spectacle.”

Bruce shrugged. “I got one too. I don’t know if I want to go.”

Thor, who was already pouring himself another drink, chuckled. “I shall attend, if only to witness the drama.”

Peter looked confused. “Wait, Ross? Isn’t he the guy who—?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, cutting him off with a smile. “Same guy.”

“Okay, just making sure I’m keeping up.” Peter raised his hands.

Bucky, who had been quietly eating, finally chimed in. “I got one. Haven’t decided either.”

Tony gave him a teasing look. “Oh, come on, Barnes. What’s not to like? A stuffy political event, full of pomp and circumstance. Your kind of crowd.”

“Yeah, sounds like a blast.” Bucky smirked, shaking his head.

Pepper turned to Steve, who had been unusually quiet. “What about you, Steve? Are you planning on going?”

Steve shrugged, pushing a piece of steak around his plate. “I got an invite... I just haven’t decided.”

Tony chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Rogers. You can’t pass this up. You’re curious, I can tell.”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Steve chuckles, “We'll see.”

The evening had grown quieter at Tony’s, the Avengers scattered around, finishing their drinks and chatting in smaller groups. Steve and Bucky stood near the terrace, leaning against the railing, a comfortable silence between them.

Steve glanced at his beer, swirling the liquid around. "I saw Y/N the other day... Thought I should try therapy too."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, letting out a small chuckle. “For what?”

Steve shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, you know, now that I’ve carried on my legacy to Sam. Not Captain America anymore. Gotta figure out what’s next.”

Bucky nodded, though his thoughts were already starting to drift. “Huh. I see.”

There was a pause before Steve added, almost too casually, “I didn’t know Y/N has a boyfriend.”

Bucky’s head snapped toward Steve, his stomach tightening at the mention of Y/N. He caught himself quickly, casually retreating into a more neutral posture, but the surprise had already flashed through him.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if she was taken.”

Steve looked at Bucky, his curiosity piqued. “Really? You think so?”

Bucky shrugged, trying to keep his voice light, even though his thoughts were racing. Taken? He hadn’t even considered the possibility that Y/N could be with someone, and now the idea of her with another man—after she kissed him, twice—bothered him. What the hell was she doing kissing me if she had a boyfriend?

“She’s smart, successful,” Bucky said, keeping his tone nonchalant. “And let’s be honest, she’s pretty damn attractive. So, why would she be single?”

The words came out easily enough, but Bucky could feel the simmering frustration building in his chest. He had let himself get caught up in her—let her get under his skin—and now he was finding out she might have been playing him all along. Was I just a moment of curiosity for her? Some game to figure out who she kissed at that party?

Then it hit him—he once saw Y/N with a man in the café during one of their run-ins. Idiot!

Steve tilted his head, watching Bucky a bit too closely. “You say that like you know something.”

Bucky met Steve’s gaze, his face a mask of indifference, even though his insides were twisting in knots. “I don’t know anything. I just wouldn’t be surprised.”

Steve nodded slowly, “Huh. Guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

Bucky stared out into the darkened sky, trying to push the thoughts away, but the bitterness clung to him. The realization settled like a stone in his chest, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the anger flared again. Why the hell didn’t she just say something?

They stood in silence for a few moments, Steve sipping his drink, still turning over what Bucky had said. But for Bucky, the silence was filled with the echoes of those moments with Y/N—the kisses. Now, it all felt like it had been a game. And the worst part was, he couldn’t shake how much it bothered him.

× × × ×

Session 4

The room was quiet, the ticking of the clock the only sound cutting through Y/N's voice. Y/N sat across from him, clipboard in hand, her professional mask perfectly in place as she glanced down at her notes.

She had been talking about progress, about making amends, but her words barely registered with Bucky. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled up in frustration and confusion.

He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N with another man. Taken—that was the word that kept replaying in his mind. She was taken. He wasn’t mad that she had someone; he was mad that she kissed him like it meant something, only for him to find out she was with someone all along.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, simmering in silence, when Y/N’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Bucky, you seem very closed off today. Is there something on your mind?”

He blinked, refocusing on her. “No.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking to him from her notes. “Are you sure? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

Bucky let out a small, frustrated breath. Of course I’m quiet. How was he supposed to talk to her when she was hiding so much? When she had kissed him but still had another man? His fingers curled into his bicep a bit tighter, but he kept his voice leveled.

“I’m fine.”

Y/N didn’t press, but the silence that followed felt suffocating. She looked down at her clipboard again, jotting something down, and the sight of it—her calm professionalism—only made his frustration boil higher.

He shifted in his seat, his body tense. He didn’t understand how she could sit there so collected, while his mind was racing.

Y/N glanced up again, her tone gentle but probing. “Bucky, if there’s something bothering you, this is a safe space to talk about it.”

His jaw tightened. A safe space? That felt like a joke. He could spill his guts to her, tell her everything about his past, his pain, his guilt. But what about her? What was she hiding? What was she not telling him? The frustration simmered hotter.

He shifted in his seat again, trying to tamp down the anger rising in his chest. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. The silence, the tension—it was suffocating him. Finally, he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“You know,” Bucky said, his voice sharper than he intended, “it’s funny.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. She set down her clipboard, giving him her full attention.

“What do you mean?”

Bucky huffed out a breath, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “You know everything about me. All my baggage, all the crap I’ve done. But I don’t know one damn thing about you.”

Y/N straightened, her professional mask slipping just slightly. “Bucky, this is a therapeutic setting. The focus is on you—”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky snapped, his frustration boiling over. “But how’s that fair? You’ve heard everything about me. You’ve seen every scar, every mistake I’ve made. And I don’t know anything about you. Not even something as basic as... if you’re—” He stopped short, biting down on the words he almost let slip, but it was too late.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her voice still calm, though there was a crack in her usual detachment. “This is about helping you process what you’ve been through. It’s not about me.”

Bucky let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Of course it’s not. Because why would it be? Why would I get to know the person who knows all my deepest, darkest secrets?”

Y/N held his gaze, her expression softening slightly, but she still kept that professional distance. “Bucky, if I’ve crossed a line—”

Bucky leaned forward, cutting her off, his voice low and sharp. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly, her mind clouded, the words slipping from her grasp. It was like she was reaching for a thought, but it stayed just out of reach, teasing her from the edges of her awareness. Her heart raced in frustration, not just at the argument but at this unsettling feeling that had been plaguing her for days.

“I... I wasn’t—” she stammered, blinking as she tried to focus on Bucky’s angry face, the lines of it somehow blurring together. It felt like the room tilted for a brief moment, but she quickly grounded herself, inhaling deeply to stay composed.

“You kissed me,” Bucky’s expression hardened, mistaking her hesitation for guilt. “Not once, but twice. And now, I found out you’ve been with someone this whole time?”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t respond right away.

Bucky shook his head, his tone bitter. “What was that? Some kind of test? You trying to figure out if I was the guy from that party? Well, guess what? I wasn’t. But you didn’t even give me a chance to say anything before you tried again.”

Y/N’s face softened, and she started to speak, but Bucky wasn’t done.

“You know everything about me. Everything. But I don’t know anything about you. You sit there with that clipboard, all calm and collected, while I lay my soul bare. But what about you? What are you hiding?”

Y/N opened her mouth, but the words seemed to falter. Bucky could see the cracks forming in her usually unshakable demeanor. She wasn’t used to being the one under the spotlight.

“It’s not fair, Y/N,” Bucky continued, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You’ve got this wall up, and I’m supposed to just keep spilling my guts to you while you stand there behind it, safe and protected.”

Y/N’s lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. “Bucky...”

“No,” Bucky interrupted, his tone soft but firm. “I’ve told you everything. Every mistake, every regret, every damn thing that haunts me. And you? I don’t even know who you really are.”

Y/N’s hands tightened around the arms of her chair, her nails digging into the leather as she fought to stay present. His words cut through her, but the fog in her mind made it difficult to piece together a response. Why couldn’t she just think straight? The frustration bubbled up inside her, and her head throbbed as if under the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

Bucky watched her, waiting for something, anything, but the room remained heavy with unspoken words.

“I didn’t mean to—” she started, her voice shaking slightly, but she paused again, a sudden confusion taking over. Had she told him that already? Was she repeating herself? Bucky’s words echoed in her ears, and for a moment, everything felt disjointed, like pieces of a conversation out of sync.

“You’ve never asked.” she added, her voice barely audible.

Bucky blinked, then let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound catching even him off guard. He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “That’s your answer? I never asked?”

Y/N sighed, glancing at the clock, clearly trying to buy time. “It’s not what you think—”

Bucky scoffed, his laugh harder this time, sharper. “Oh, that’s rich. ‘It’s not what you think.’ What, you think this is just some misunderstanding?”

Y/N opened her mouth, but Bucky wasn’t done.

“You’ve got a guy, right? And yet, you've kissed me. Twice. What am I supposed to think, Y/N? You make me feel like I’m the guy on the side, like I’m stealing someone else’s girl. I don’t do that.”

Y/N’s face flushed, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to respond, but she stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

The frustration had been simmering for days, ever since he’d found out she wasn’t single. And now, sitting here, watching her keep up that perfect, composed therapist façade, it was too much.

He wasn’t just angry—he was insulted. He wasn’t the kind of man to step into someone else’s relationship, and the fact that he had kissed her without knowing she had someone was eating him up inside.

“You didn’t tell me,” Bucky said, his voice lower now, filled with barely restrained anger. “You didn’t tell me anything. And now, what? I’m supposed to just sit here and pretend it didn’t happen?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her voice barely above a whisper. “Bucky, I wasn’t trying to—”

“To what?” Bucky cut her off, his tone harsh. “What were you trying to do? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you were playing games. And I’m not the kind of guy who does that. You put me in a position I didn’t ask for. You made me...”

He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from him. He felt trapped, like he’d been dragged into something he had no control over. The last thing he wanted was to be tangled up in someone else’s drama, especially when it came to relationships. He wasn’t the guy who crossed those lines.

Y/N looked up at him, her expression softer, but she still didn’t speak.

“You’ve got your life, your man. Fine. But don’t pull me into it.”

The sharp sound of the alarm ringing broke the tension, signaling the end of their session. Bucky glanced at the clock, then back at Y/N, the frustration still etched across his face.

He let out a long, heavy sigh, standing up slowly. Without another word, he turned and made his way toward the door, his movements stiff, controlled. He paused for the briefest of moments, his hand resting on the doorknob, but he didn’t look back.

“You take care, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no warmth in his voice.

And then he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Y/N remained where she was, her eyes still fixed on the spot where he’d been sitting just moments before. Her throat tightened, and her vision blurred, but she blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. She was stubborn, always had been, and she wasn’t about to break down now. Not after that.

× × × ×

Y/N’s heart raced as she navigated the city streets, her thoughts a whirlwind of worry and confusion. The familiar sounds of the bustling city seemed distant as she pressed harder on the gas pedal, weaving through the evening traffic. The day had dragged on longer than usual, her symptoms clouding her focus as she worked through meetings and paperwork. But now, with the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her, she needed answers.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot, her fingers trembling slightly as she turned off the ignition. Inhaling deeply, Y/N gathered her things and stepped out of the car, moving quickly through the entrance. The sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the private clinic always made her uneasy, but today, her unease stemmed from something far deeper.

The receptionist glanced up as she entered. “Miss Y/N,” she greeted with a soft smile. “Dr. Kim is expecting you. Please, go right in.”

Y/N nodded, unable to muster more than a polite smile as she made her way down the hall. Her chest tightened with each step until she finally reached the familiar door. Pausing for a moment, she exhaled slowly and knocked softly before opening it.

Dr. Kim looked up from his desk, his expression immediately softening as he saw her.

“Y/N,” he greeted warmly, standing to meet her. “Come in, have a seat. What’s going on? You sounded urgent on the phone.”

Y/N sat down, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. The overwhelming need to explain everything spilled out of her, the words tumbling over one another as she tried to make sense of the chaos in her mind.

“Dr. Kim, I—something’s wrong. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s been happening for weeks now. I keep getting these... these daydreams that feel so real. I’ll lose track of time, or I’ll end up in places and not remember how I got there. And my head... it’s like there’s this constant fog, like I can’t think clearly. I’ll forget things in the middle of a conversation. It’s—it’s scaring me.”

Dr. Kim’s brow furrowed as he listened, concern flickering in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his desk. “When did these symptoms start?”

“A few weeks ago,” Y/N admitted, her voice shaky. “I thought it was just stress at first—work, everything with my father, the engagement. But it’s getting worse. It’s like... like I’m losing control of my own mind.”

He nodded, his face calm but serious. “Have you experienced any physical symptoms? Headaches? Nausea?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. The headaches are getting more frequent, and they’re... different. Not like any I’ve had before. And I get this dizziness, like the room is spinning, but it’s only for a few seconds at a time.”

Dr. Kim sat back in his chair, deep in thought. “Y/N, I’m going to schedule an emergency scans for you—right now. I don’t want to wait on this. Your symptoms... we need to rule out any serious issues.”

Her stomach twisted at the word "serious," but she nodded, grateful that he was taking action.

“What scans?” You shook your, trying to blink off the incoming headache.

“CT, MRI, PET. I'll add a Blood analysis as well—you might want to cancel plans, if you've got one tonight or you can go home and we can arrange a time tomorrow for the results.” He gave her a choice.

“I can stay. I need to know what's going on.”

Dr. Kim stood up, motioning for her to follow him. The minutes that followed were a blur—hushed conversations with nurses, the hum of machines, and the cold, sterile air of each scanning room.

She lay still as the machine whirred around her, her mind racing despite the calm instructions from the technician. It felt like hours and hours had passed by the time she was finally back in Dr. Kim’s office, waiting for the results.

When Dr. Kim returned, the air in the room seemed to thicken with tension. He carried a file in his hands, his face somber.

“Y/N,” he began quietly, taking a seat across from her. “I need you to listen carefully.”

Her pulse quickened, her intertwined fingers tightening on eachother. “What is it?”

He hesitated, glancing down at the file before meeting her gaze. “The scans show something... concerning. You have a rare form of cancer called Cloud Cytoma.”

Y/N blinked, her mind reeling as the words hit her like a wave.

“Cancer?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “How bad is it?”

Dr. Kim’s expression was gentle but unflinching. “Cloud Cytoma is an extremely rare type of cancer that affects the cranial nerves. It explains the symptoms you’ve been experiencing—memory loss, disorientation, even the vivid daydreams. The tumor is in the area of your brain that controls memory and perception.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts. "How… How long?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Dr. Kim weighed his words carefully but there was no easy way to break out bad news. “I’m afraid the prognosis isn’t good. With treatment, we may be able to manage the symptoms for a little while, but... you likely have about six months, give or take.”

The words hit her like a tidal wave. Her breath caught in her throat as the world around her began to blur.

“I can contact specialists around the globe, who study this form of cancer. I will do my utmost best to find another way. . . . .”

For a second, she wasn’t sure if she was still in the room. It felt like she was slipping into one of those disorienting daydreams again, the ones that felt too real but weren’t. Her vision wavered, and she instinctively pressed her hands against her temples, trying to anchor herself.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Dr. Kim’s voice cut through the fog, concern deepening in his tone.

Y/N opened her eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to shake off the sensation that everything around her was crumbling. She took a deep breath, but the words "six months" echoed in her mind like a broken record, looping endlessly.

Six months. It was absurd. How could someone just say that so calmly? She had just come in here expecting to hear she needed rest, maybe a break from work, and instead, her entire world had been ripped out from under her in a matter of minutes.

She stared at Dr. Kim, trying to wrap her head around it, but the room still felt tilted.

"Six months..." she whispered, shaking her head. "That’s... not enough time to even figure out how to respond to something like this."

Dr. Kim nodded sympathetically, his eyes steady on her. "I know it’s overwhelming. But we’ll focus on making you as comfortable as possible and explore every option available."

Y/N bit her lip, staring down at her hands, her mind spinning. This was her life now—six months left to live. Six months to figure out how to say goodbye to everything and everyone. The absurdity of it all clawed at her chest. It was so ridiculous, so horrifyingly unfair. Six months. The more she thought about it, the more surreal it felt.

And then, out of nowhere, a small, unexpected sound escaped her lips. A laugh. It was quiet at first, almost like a hiccup, but it bubbled up before she could stop it. Her shoulders shook with it, and before long, she was laughing—softly, incredulously, like she couldn’t quite believe the situation she was in.

Dr. Kim blinked in surprise. "Y/N?" he asked cautiously.

But Y/N couldn’t stop. The sheer insanity of being told she had six months to live, just like that, felt like some sort of twisted joke. She wiped at her eyes, half-laughing, half-crying, the sound mixing into something she didn’t even understand.

"Six months..." she gasped between laughs, shaking her head. "I barely know what I’m having for dinner tonight, and now I have to figure out how to live with six months left?"

Dr. Kim watched her with a mixture of sympathy and confusion, clearly not expecting this reaction.

She took a few deep breaths, her laughter finally subsiding, though the absurdity of it all still hung in the air.

"Sorry," she muttered, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "It’s just... It’s kind of funny when you think about it. I mean, how does anyone process that? It’s so... random."

Dr. Kim’s expression softened, and after a moment, he allowed a small, understanding smile. "Everyone processes this kind of news differently," he said gently. "Sometimes, a little laughter helps. It’s your body’s way of coping with the shock."

Y/N nodded, still smiling through the haze of disbelief. “Yeah... maybe. But I can tell you one thing—this isn’t how I imagined my day ending.”

× × × ×

Y/N sat at the bar, swirling the amber liquid in her glass, trying to drown out the noise in her head. Probably not the best decision but with six months left? Why should she even care anymore?

When she took another sip of her drink, a sudden, sharp pain pierced through her temples. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shake it off, but the disorienting fog that had plagued her for weeks started to settle in again. The world around her seemed to tilt for a moment, her breath catching as she tried to refocus.

She blinked hard, forcing herself to concentrate on the glass in her hand. Everything felt too bright, too loud, like the whole bar was closing in on her.

A presence beside her jolted her out of the fog. A man she hadn’t seen before, clearly drunk, sidled up next to her with a lazy grin on his face.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he slurred, leaning closer than necessary. Y/N tensed immediately, her skin crawling at the intrusion.

“Why’s a pretty thing like you sitting here all alone?”

Y/N’s heart raced, but she pushed down the panic, trying to stay present. She had to. “Not interested,” she said flatly, her voice sharper than intended. She lifted her glass, hoping he’d take the hint.

But he didn’t. The grin on his face widened, and he leaned even closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Her grip on the glass tightened, her pulse pounding in her ears. The fog was still there, lurking at the edges of her awareness, but she forced herself to focus, forced herself to stay grounded. She wouldn’t let this escalate.

“I said, not interested,” she repeated, her voice icy.

The man’s smile faded slightly, his hand reaching out to brush over her arm. “Feisty, huh? I like a girl with some fire.”

Y/N jerked her arm away, her heart pounding in her chest. “Back off,” she snapped, louder this time, but the man’s hand moved to her thigh, his grip tightening just enough to send a wave of nausea through her.

Before she could react, a strong hand clamped down on the guy’s shoulder, yanking him backward with force.

“Let go of her,” a firm voice said, filled with authority.

Y/N’s eyes darted up to see Steve Rogers standing beside her, his expression hard as he pulled the man off her. The drunk stumbled backward, a look of anger flashing across his face.

“Who the hell are you?” the man growled, trying to stand up straighter.

Steve’s eyes narrowed, his posture straight and unmistakably threatening. “Walk away.”

The man scoffed, rubbing his shoulder, clearly too drunk to realize who he was messing with.

“Nah, I’m good right here.” His eyes flicked back to Y/N, a disgusting smirk crossing his face. “She and I were just getting acquainted.”

Before he could say another word, Steve’s fist shot out, connecting with the guy’s jaw with a sickening crack. The man staggered back, crashing into the barstools before crumpling to the floor, clutching his jaw in pain.

The entire bar went silent, everyone turning to see what had just happened.

Steve stood tall, glaring down at the man on the floor. “I told you to walk away.”

The drunk groaned, still clutching his jaw as he scrambled to his feet, glaring at Steve but clearly outmatched.

“You’ll regret that,” he spat, stumbling toward the door, muttering curses under his breath as he left the bar.

Y/N sat there, still frozen in place, her heart racing. The sudden flare of pain in her head had passed, but the fog lingered, making everything feel slightly off-kilter. She had been ready to scream, to fight back, but Steve’s intervention had caught her off guard. Slowly, she released the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

Steve turned to her, his expression softening as their eyes met. “You alright?”

Y/N nodded, though her voice was shaky. “Yeah. I’m... fine.”

Steve studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her face, as if checking to make sure she was really okay. “You sure?”

Y/N let out a breath, finally allowing herself to relax. “Yeah. Thanks for... you know.”

“It’s nothing.” Steve gave her a small, reassuring smile. He motioned to the empty stool next to her. “Mind if I sit?”

Y/N hesitated, still shaken, but then nodded. “Go ahead.”

As Steve sat down beside her, the tension in the air began to dissipate, though Y/N’s thoughts were still a mess.

Steve glanced at her drink, then back at her. “Rough night?”

“You have no idea.” Y/N let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking her head.

Steve’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk.”

Y/N stared at her drink, debating whether to unload everything or to keep it all bottled up, like she always did. She sighed, shaking her head.

“It’s... complicated.”

“Life usually is.” Steve smiled faintly.

Y/N took another sip of her drink, her thoughts still swirling, when Steve’s voice broke through the heavy silence again.

“You know,” Steve said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “it’s kind of funny.”

“What’s funny?” Y/N glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sitting here, offering to listen to you, and you’re supposed to be my therapist.” Steve leaned against the counter, he gave her a playful look.

“You know, therapists need therapists too?” Y/N couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her.

Steve grinned, clearly enjoying the lightening of the mood. “I guess I didn’t realize I’d signed up for a two-way session.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I’m off the clock, Steve. If you want therapy, you’ll have to book another session.”

Steve let out a low laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Fair enough. But it feels like I’m earning some points here. First catching you before you fell, now the bar rescue, and now some free therapy advice? You’re really getting the full Captain America experience tonight.”

“Is that what this is? The Captain America experience?” Y/N shook her head, her smile widening.

“Saving lives and giving pep talks, all in a day’s work.” Steve raised his glass in a mock toast.

Y/N’s laughter came more freely this time, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had been pressing down on her lifted just a little. She hadn’t realized how much she needed a moment like this—something light, something simple. No complications, no lies. Just a small break from the storm that was her life.

She glanced over at Steve, who was watching her with that same warm, gaze he always had. There was something about him—his presence, his calmness—that made her feel at ease. For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought quickly passed. She couldn’t drag him into her mess.

“Thanks, Steve,” Y/N said softly, her voice sincere.

Steve shrugged, still smiling. “Anytime. I’m not just good at punching guys, you know.”

“I’ve noticed. You’re also good at therapy.” Y/N smirked, giving him a playful look.

Steve chuckled, his eyes flicking over to her empty glass. “Well, if you ever need more... Captain America therapy sessions, you know where to find me.”

Y/N nodded, her smile fading slightly as reality began to creep back in. The joke was lighthearted, but the weight of everything she was carrying started to settle in again. She felt the heaviness pressing down again, but before she could sink too deep into it, Steve leaned forward, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“You know,” he said, his tone conspiratorial, “there’s one thing I’ve always wondered.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Steve took a dramatic pause, glancing around the bar like he was about to share a state secret. Then, in a completely serious voice, he asked, “Do therapists actually read all those self-help books, or is that just for show?”

Y/N snorted, caught off guard by the absurdity of the question. She covered her mouth, trying to keep from laughing too loudly. “Seriously? That’s what you’ve been wondering?”

“Hey, it’s an important question. I mean, there are a lot of those books out there. The Art of Not Giving a Damn, How to Be Your Best You, 10 Steps to Inner Peace... Do you just have a whole library of them stashed somewhere?” Steve grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

“Well, some of us don’t need a self-help book to be as annoyingly well-adjusted as you, Captain.” Y/N couldn’t hold back the laughter this time.

Steve held up his hands, feigning innocence. “Annoyingly well-adjusted? I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in weeks.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Alright, alright. To answer your question—no, I don’t have a secret stash of self-help books. But now I feel like I should start collecting them, just to mess with people.”

“You should. Imagine the look on people’s faces when you recommend something like Finding Inner Zen for Dummies.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “Yeah, that would go over real well with my clients.”

Steve leaned in a little closer, dropping his voice to a mock whisper. “I bet Bucky would love that.”

Y/N’s laughter bubbled up again, the sound light and genuine. “Oh god, can you imagine? He’d walk out immediately.”

Steve nodded, his expression serious. “Absolutely. The moment you pulled out a book like that, he’d be gone. You’d have to chase him down with a copy of Anger Management 101.”

Y/N was laughing so hard now, her sides hurt. “Stop! I can’t breathe!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But only because I don’t want to be responsible for making my therapist pass out from laughing.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes, still giggling as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you, remember?”

Steve gave her a playful shrug. “Hey, you help me, I help you. That’s how this works, right?”

“I guess so. I didn’t realize I’d signed up for a comedy show, though.”

Steve crossed his arms, looking mock-offended. “Comedy show? I’ll have you know I’m much more than that. I’m also very good at giving bad advice and quoting old movies no one’s seen.”

“Oh, really? Now I’m intrigued. What’s the worst advice you’ve ever given?”

Steve pretended to think for a moment. “Hmm... worst advice? Oh, I know. I once told Tony that it was a good idea to let Peter drive the Quinjet.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “You did not!”

Steve grinned. “I’m kidding. I’d never let that happen. But Tony would.”

Y/N let out a relieved breath, still smiling. “I was about to say...”

The tension that had weighed her down all night seemed to disappear, replaced by the warmth of Steve’s humor. She wasn’t sure how he did it—how he could make her laugh so easily, even when her world felt like it was spinning out of control—but she was grateful.

Steve caught her eye again, his smile softening just a little. “Feeling better?”

Y/N nodded, the smile lingering on her lips. “Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good,” Steve said, his tone gentle now. “You deserve to feel better.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at his words, but before she could dwell on the emotion behind them, Steve leaned back and gave her a cheeky grin.

“Now, do I get a discount on my next therapy session for all the laughs I just provided?”

Y/N burst out laughing again, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. You’ll pay double for that, Captain.”

Steve raised his glass in mock surrender. “Fair enough. It was worth a shot.”

As Y/N's laughter filled the space between them, Steve's smile faltered for just a second. He caught himself watching her more closely than he should, noticing the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the small crinkles at the corners of her mouth. His heart ached—just a little—as he realized how much he wanted to be the one to make her feel like this all the time.

But he pushed the thought aside, burying it beneath the camaraderie and lightheartedness of the moment. He wasn’t sure when it had started—this subtle pull toward her—but he felt it more and more with each passing day. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not when her world was already complicated enough. Not when his own feelings were supposed to be under control.

Still, sitting beside her, hearing her laugh, he couldn't help the quiet longing that settled in his chest.

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rambling-madwoman · 5 months ago

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Heya !! Draupadi here *awkward wave*

Your page looks cool !! Do you mind telling us about your work by answering my question? ( Pretty please 🥺👉👈)

Also if I missed a master list, please lmk 🌝

Hello :)) Thank you ~ I love that name btw, Draupadi, very lovely

No masterlink yet! I really have never posted my work online before. But that was then and this is now, I've always been a lurker so it's nice to finally be participating lol

Midnight Cinderella - otome game retold as novella

Midcin was an otome game about a common girl being chosen as the princess of her country. I used to love otome games, but by nature they require a pretty bland protagonist. I am always a sucker for a whimsical romantic fairy tale though. So the princess I made is more ornery witch than naive ingenue, who finds herself in the wrong story entirely as she is pursued by suitors, struggles to maintain composure through an onslaught of judgement and derision, and to keep the promises to the people she left behind while keeping her power and good standing.

Phoenix Series - YA Fantasy, 3-5 books, 15-18y/o female protag

Alma seeks answers about her uncontrollable fire magic, hopeful it will also lead to answers about the family she never knew. Her only lead is the note she was left at an orphanage with, with a header from the Inaugural Academy of Magical Arts and Sciences and her name written in hasty scrawl. The search will take her to the school, her lifelong goal to this point, but what she finds will only create more questions. As the mystery becomes deeper and darker and she becomes more and more over her head, searching for answers will take her across the fragmented world. Themes of human connection, community and survival against overwhelming oppressive forces greater than any one person.

I believe this will be titled, "The Fate of a Phoenix." With her fire powers, we know what the fate of a Phoenix is but unfortunately for Alma she is not so genre savvy :) There is a F/F romantic subplot, Alma was bi originally but the more I write her the more I say 'look at that little lesbian go.' But yknow what i am so mean to that kid, she deserves to have a lil girlfriend.

Cryptids - Paranormal Romance, 24y/o werewolf male protag & 20y/o vampire female love interest

Ronan has lived his life feeling out of place in his family and like a shame to his culture. When he indebts his wolf kith to a powerful group of vampires, creatures they only know to be bloodthirsty demons, it feels like the final nail in a coffin he had long been unable to get out of. Stuck working with the vampires Ronan can't help but feel the more he learns about their way of life, the more it seems to suit him. Even if that means being under the thumb of Eleanor, whose intentions he can never trust.

In short, outwardly stoic, inwardly cynical, very emotional man is emotionally and eventually physically toyed with by a sometimes mischievous and playful, other times manipulative and dishonest woman. This was originally intended to be an erotica I could get out quickly for some publishing experience, but it's gotten away from me lol.

I probably should have just done this already so thank you for asking!!

#i will be out here peddling these works like Mrs. Lovett #Aint that just revolting? All greasy and gritty its nothing but frosting and tastes like...#well pity a woman alone with limited wind and the worst pies in london #writeblr #fanfic #please dont talk to me about firestarter i didnt see firestarter please do not see 'uncontrollable fire powers' and go 'oh like firestarter

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thelemoncoffee · 2 years ago

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ya know what'd be funky as hell? a child fame au with Shuichi.

like, Shuichi became famous as a child detective when he was pretty younge after solving that one case, and kept his popularity for a good while. as he got older tho, his smarts became less novel and wonderous, and his fame faded. well- not entierly, the Kid detective Shuichi Saihara is still very well known- but only the idealized kid version, no one knows fuckall about his older self.

in modern day, he's in his mid 20's and is going to collage, majoring in creative writing as a hopes to eventually craft himself a new path in life away from detective work. he doesn't particularly like being a detective, especially not after going through both the classic trauma stress, and the stress of fame. he does his best to disconnect himself from the child popculture idolzied, and he personally thinks he's done a decent job at it by being a slepdeprived bisexual punkrocker. sometimes people will hear his name and go "oh isn't that also the name of that one kid detective?" and he's like "yeah i get that alot" standing there in full garb and running off hopes, dreams, and a leathal amount of monster energy.

so basically- Shuichi was famous as a 7y/o detective who was crazy smart and really adorable in his little suit, and now is a antisocial 24y/o punk who hasn't slept in three days and is trying to run away from his past but it's fiiiiinee

gotta love grown up versions of kid celebreties who are both wildly different and total trainwrecks as adults.

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #shuichi saihara #au prompt #au idea #au #kai prompts

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cyberrat · 4 months ago

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93rd Batch Of Fics: 2nd Fill

Viktor/Jayce – Part ⅖ – age difference; Jayce ca 24y; Viktor ca 40y; transman Viktor; cunnilingus; fingering – Jayce is sweet and earnest and he just really wants Viktor to notice him.

---

Jayce walked past the entrance of the clinic three times before finally spotting the well-hidden little door. It looks a bit crooked and more narrow than a door should be, but from what he’s seen of the undercity, they don’t really believe in keeping things at set norm sizes…

He keeps his large backpack clutched protectively to his stomach, half hunched over it, eyes beneath his hood darting around to spot any would-be attackers as he pushes the door open with his back.

He’s barely set a foot into the tiny clinic when he hears the exasperated and unmistakable voice of his savior: “Mr. Talis, what are you doing here?!”

Jayce’ mouth opens in shock. He whirls around, jerking his head to throw his hood back. “How did you know it was me?!”

Viktor throws him a flat look. He is standing next to one of the cots that had been filled with undercity residents two days ago but are now empty except for an older lady sitting on the edge and looking between the two of them with interest.

When the moment just drags out awkwardly, Jayce finally lifts the large package in his arms. “I uh… got something for you.”

Viktor frowns. He looks between the package and Jayce’s face a few times before finally rolling his eyes and jerking his head toward the door in the very back of the narrow room. “Go through. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

.o.

“What is… all this?!”

Jayce stills for a moment and peers up at Viktor. He has started already unpacking all the things he brought; bandages, linens, antiseptics, gauzes, needle and surgical threads…

Viktor does not have his crutch with himself. Jayce has seen it leaning against his desk upon entering the tiny office and now it looks like he’s about to crumble on the spot. The older man’s hand fumbles for the doorframe, curling tightly around its edge and leans his shoulder against it.

There’s a bit of color appearing back in his gaunt cheeks and Jayce wonders if he made a mistake.

He stands up straight, head lowered like his height doesn’t make him completely tower over the other. “I uh… I brought some supplies. I needed to thank you for your help the other day…”

Viktor makes a strangled sound. He pushes himself off the doorframe and staggers the couple steps over to his crutch, pulling it quickly back against his side and underneath his arm.

He hobbles closer, his face still flushed and long strands of hair falling over his eyes, making him look a tad deranged.

Jayce leans back but there’s nowhere for him to run now that he’s stuck between the cot he’s been lying on two days prior and Viktor’s bony frame, one sharp, thin finger jabbing at his chest painfully.

“There is absolutely no need for you to thank me. You should not have come back. You got off easy with a mugging last time, boy.”

“I was extra careful this time.”

Viktor scoffs, throwing a baleful look at the dark cloak Jayce has used to conceal himself better. There’s another moment of quiet and then the older man turns toward the supplies Jayce has brought. He starts to look through them and Jayce realizes that Viktor is not telling him to get lost. He’s also not refusing the offerings in some misplaced show of pride, so…

Viktor’s body language mellows out from ‘pissed off feline’ to something much more intrigued and when he mutters: “Good quality…” under his breath, Jayce can’t help the warm feeling prickling up from his belly and the bright smile stretching out over his face.

Viktor throws him a sidelong glance and scoffs again. He mutters something that sounds like ‘Piltie puppy’ but he also doesn’t tell him to go again.

.oOo.

He does that on all of Jayce’s subsequent visits. Instead of a ‘oh, hi Jayce; how are you doing? How is the family? Well thank you for the supplies, my boy!’ it’s all ‘...why are you back. Put the stuff with the rest in the back. Be neat.’

Jayce wouldn’t have it any other way, if he’s being honest. Viktor has not uttered a single thank-you but that is exactly how he wants it anyway. He is not bringing the stuff to be showered in Viktor’s thanks. At first he brought it simply to pay back the kindness the older man has shown him.

All the subsequent treks… well… his initial little crush might have kind of… maybe… gotten out of control? A little?

It’s just – the more time he spends with Viktor the more he can feel himself becoming obsessed with the older man.

He feels like he can see at a glance how his leg is doing; depending on how arduous the work had been on the previous day, how long Jayce had been able to be down there to lug around the heavier crates, how often he could remind the doctor to sit down and take a break for but a moment while Jayce tended to the not-so-severe wounds and scrapes and illnesses…

And the talks they were having-

Viktor even allowed him to hold his magic cube again, telling him of how he manufactured it – though not going into any real details – and how it apparently had taken the better half of two decades to get to this point and how it helped keep the sickness from his lungs and…

He’s brilliant; simple as that. He is absolutely brilliant and clever and funny and a grumpy piece of shit and his shirts are so thin that Jayce can see the outline of his bony torso including the little peaks of his nipples when he leans in front of a light just so – and it is driving Jayce absolutely insane.

He’s 24 but he feels like a teen. Needy and horny and just desperately looking for some praise from the older man who is giving it out more and more frequently as of late.

He will take a look at Jayce and get a peculiar gleam in his eyes and his lips will twist in a derisive little smile before taking whatever Jayce is handing him with embarrassing eagerness and saying ‘good puppy’.

Never ‘thank you’.

Jayce can feel how he wants to go belly up for him and from the weird looks Viktor is throwing him, he has a feeling that the other knows it, too. Jayce probably isn’t nearly as slick about his infatuation as he should be.

Viktor has yet to really put a damper on it, though. He has yet to put any heat behind his gruff daily demands that Jayce stop coming down and get himself in danger.

He has yet to say that he is not as obsessed about Jayce as Jayce is about him.

.oOo.

Jayce is hurrying along the street. He is not carrying one of his huge packages with himself this time; just a small one that feels like it is burning a hole into his pocket same as his cheeks are burning and throbbing with the fast pumps of his heart.

He does not even notice how there is a shadow hurrying along behind him, a dagger glistening in the shadows of a cloak; an eager gleam in his attacker’s eyes.

He slips around a corner, the way to the clinic by now ingrained into his brain.

Jayce does not notice how there is a second shadow appearing seemingly out of nowhere or how that shadow is grabbing the first and pulling him into a nook just a split second before the dagger hits.

He doesn’t notice their brief scuffle or hear how the second shadow pins the first against a wall before hissing: “Leave that one. It’s the doctor’s puppy.”

He also never sees how the first shadow stops struggling and makes a considering noise before sighing and slipping the dagger back into the blackness where it came from: “Ah damn. What a pity.”

.o.

Viktor looks up from the papers strewn on his desk. He’s wearing a pair of glasses and the sight hits Jayce unexpected and deep in the chest. He looks so handsome with them.

“What are you doing here. Stop coming back.”

Jayce ignores the greeting and takes a step forward, but does not quite do what he came to do in the first place.

Viktor’s eyes get a shrewd gleam. He sits up a little straighter and turns so he can have a better look at Jayce, gaze lingering on the breadth of his shoulders and the tremble of his wide hands where they fidget around in the shadows of his cloak.

“What are you doing, Piltie puppy?” Viktor asks with a lilt in his already melodic voice that sends shivers down Jayce’s spine. “If you need to lift your leg then-”

Jayce thrusts the parcel out before Viktor can finish the scathing remark. They both stare at the wax paper folded on his palm and held together by packing string.

Viktor frowns and carefully plucks it off Jayce’s offered hand. Jayce watches with a queasy feeling of excitement how the other unwraps the gift and just stares at a colorful array of hard candies spread out in front of him.

“...I don’t understand.”

“I just… uh… I thought…” Jayce exhales in a little wheeze air that he did not even have. “A present. For you.”

Viktor looks startled, his hands jerking away, fingers stretched out and splayed like he wants to shove the innocuous pile of candy away from him like they were poisonous.

Jayce pulls a face. He knows… he knows he couldn’t make it more obvious if he tried. Viktor looks between him and the candy a few times. He opens his mouth and Jayce gets ready for the rejection that must follow now, at least. But just like all the other times, Viktor does not tell him to get lost.

He glances back at the candies again, twin spots of red hot color appearing on his gaunt cheeks.

“Good puppy.”

Jayce thinks he’s about to melt into the damn ground.

#cyberratting writes stuff #viktor/jayce #jayvik #trans viktor #getting together

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