#i’m sorry if something i said makes no sense

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc (Valerie) (i know first part is x reader... i'm sorry for changing to an oc but it makes more sense in a multipart series)

playlist, part I

DISCLAIMER!: this is fanfiction (note the word FICTION), this is not a true depiction of what i think paige is like, this is purely fiction for entertainment purposes

Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr

Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)

A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH

-

It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.

“You okay babe?”

I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.

I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.

Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.

I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.

“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.

I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.

Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?

I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day

Valerie?

I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.

Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.

“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.

“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..

I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.

-

I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes. 

All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.

Bro are u alive?

I’m gettin worried lowkey

i’m fine paige

Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.

I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.

“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.

“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does. 

“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.

“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.

KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?

It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.

“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.

“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”

KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.

I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.

“Then what do I say to Zoe.”

“Wh- Zoe?” 

KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”

“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.

KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”

“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.

“Ted’s tonight?” 

KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.

“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”

“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”

“KK.” I say sternly

KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.

-

The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.

“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.

“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.

“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”

“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.

“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.

Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.

I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.

“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.

“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.

“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.

Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.

“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.

“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.

“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.

“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.

“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.

“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.

“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.

Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.

I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.

I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.

But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.

“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips. 

“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.

She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better. 

I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.

“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.

It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.

“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.

My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.

“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.

The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.

“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.

“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too. 

“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.

“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.

“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.

“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.

She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.

I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.

Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.

“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.

“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”

My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.

“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,

I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.

“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.

My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.

“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.

“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.

I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.

“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.

KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.

I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.

“Bro you have feelings for her.”

Oh?

Oh.

My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.

“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up. 

KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.

With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.

-

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NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE

[endless-ineffabilities]

the other side of the door (2/3)

Ewan Mitchell x bestfriend reader

a/n: the way this turned into a 3-parter because I found myself writing an abrupt ending where she just runs off with [redacted]. Oh well. They still have some things to work through. But I would love to hear what yous think about the sweet chaos in this part! <3 — also, that gif up there accurately represents how our Mitchell was acting up in one scene! heh.

main masterlist ▪︎ part one

The one where you try to move on from your best friend.

Ewan leans back against the headboard, having to cool down from one too many drinks, yet Louise's persistent laughter cuts through his calm.

She’s close, so close that he is enveloped in her vanilla scent, commenting at something he said downstairs—he doesn’t remember what, exactly, only that he retreated upstairs for a moment and she’d followed him.

He’s too tipsy to be decisive, his mind too scattered to sort through her words, but she’s clearly interested. Her hand grazes his shoulder as she flirtatiously jokes about how much of a lightweight he is, lingering before sliding up to cup his jaw.

“Hey! I’m not a lightweight,” he finds himself saying, surprised by how animated he still sounds.

“Oh yeah?” Louise becomes more real, more solid as she comes onto him. “So you’re sober enough to come here and kiss me then?”

He blinks, half there, half somewhere else, drifting in and out of the moment. Where are you? Did he leave you with Phia? Then her lips press against his, her fingers threading through his hair. There's something oddly mechanical about his movements. Of course he feels a sense of desire—he is a warm-blooded guy in the end, and when a barely-clothed lass offers herself to him, his body will react.

So he lets it happen and hopes that Louise won't notice his minimal engagement.

He's aware of the rustle of the mattress as they settle back, the sensation of her body on top of him—but it's not what he expected. His mind drifts, and before he knows it, he's thinking of you.

“What about the girl you came with?” Louise asks coyly, her face hovering over the crook of his neck, peppering kisses. 

His eyes flutter open, and in the dim room, he sees a different face in his mind, feels your presence instead of hers. The way your hand feels when it lingers on his arm, the warmth in your eyes when you catch him in an unguarded moment.

His mouth moves before he can properly formulate a response. “What… girl?” He hears himself, and he knows the automatic thing to say next. “Oh, she’s… she’s just my friend.” Because you are, aren’t you?

Then why doesn’t it sound enough? He’s been with a few other girls all throughout your friendship, and he didn’t give them much thought. Because it was never any of those girls with whom he would want to spend entire weekends. He didn’t want to call them right before he went to bed. He didn’t instinctively feel like pulling them close and kissing the crowns of their heads whenever they would be upset. 

He remembers the night on the couch, your head tipped back against the cushions. As Louise kisses him, he thinks of how your lips tasted like peppermint tea. 

And, just like that, his mouth moves, and he murmurs your name. Louder than he thinks.

He blinks himself out of inebriation, feeling a rush of heat. Not from the alcohol, and certainly not from Louise.

But from the fact that he just moaned his best friend's name out loud.

“Wait—what?” Louise pulls back, staring, her brows knitting. Fortunately, she had been so preoccupied with the thought of pleasuring Ewan that she didn’t hear exactly what he said. “Did you just say…?”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I…,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head, unable to meet her eyes.

But he's not sorry. He just needs to clear his head. And he needs to see you right away. He has to make sure you don't mistake his unusual absence from your side as indifference.

But Louise just shakes her head, scoffing softly. "Are you not into this? We can... try something else...?"

Ewan just looks at her. She's pretty, someone who definitely turns heads as she walks down the street. But does her entire face adorably scrunch like yours does whenever he says something ridiculous? Does she also take her coffee black with oat milk and two sugars, the way you always do? Would she stroke the bridge of his nose to wake him up if he fell asleep on her couch?

Stumbling back into the hallway, Ewan feels an unsettling hollowness. He doesn’t know why he feels so shaken—he has always firmly believed that his friendship with you was just that. Friendship. The best one he will ever have. But now, a nervous urgency pounds in his chest as he stumbles downstairs, scanning the room for you. Instead, he finds Phia in the kitchen, sipping water and looking unimpressed.

He approaches her, trying to gather his words. “Phia, do you know where—”

“She left,” Phia says, barely glancing up, her tone pointed. “Fabien walked her home. She came up to find you, but you were busy.” Her smirk is ice-cold, and it’s clear she doesn’t intend to spare him.

The words hit him hard, shame and dread twisting in his gut. You came looking for him, only to leave with Fabien. He imagines you peering into the guest room to find him and Louise, and he practically feels his heart drop. That thought lands heavier than he expects, and Phia’s words sting as they settle in his mind.

“I… I wasn’t busy…” he says weakly, but Phia raises an eyebrow and scoffs.

“We heard you, Ewan.”

Oh, god. Phia says something more, but her words barely register due to the ringing in his ears. He’s never been put in a position where he could lose you, and if he does…

His fingers shake as he forces a cigarette between his teeth, stalking out on the balcony. The protracted lungfuls he takes in make him feel sick, but not as sick as the thought of you possibly hating him. Guilt overwhelms him, and he doesn’t know why. You’re just his friend. His best friend. He can kiss whoever else he wants, can’t he? But the thought comes back around to mock him, in a way that he doesn’t quite understand.

You’re only the one who knows him better than anyone in his life. You’re only his other half. You’re only the one he…

You’re only the one.

The night air is cool as you walk alongside Fabien, a welcome relief from the chaos of the party. He seems to sense your need for quiet, and you’re grateful for the space he gives you. But his caring nature wins over, and after two blocks, he reaches out in an easy tone.

“Ewan, huh?” he says, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off with a faint laugh. “It’s nothing, Fabs. Just a stupid crush. He’s my best friend, and I get it. He doesn’t want anything more. I’ll be fine.” The phrases sound heavily punctuated and clearly forced out. The person you truly need to convince is yourself.

Fabien contemplates pressing further—he knows, as does everyone else in your circle, that your bond with Ewan is special. But they’ve openly hinted at it, time and time again, often bringing it up as a lighthearted quip. 

Are you sure you two are not together? Maybe you’ve tried dating in the past?

In response, you or Ewan would dole out the line as if rehearsed, “We’re just friends.”

Fabien decides to take on a new, calculated approach. “You know… maybe what you need is a distraction. A real one. And I know just the thing for you.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? And what is this distraction you speak of? Or rather, who?”

“Well, I happen to have met this guy, Mat, during filming in New York,” he says, trying to sound casual but you’re sensing a determined undertone. “Plays professional hockey. He’s in London for some training stuff and could use a local guide. Think of it as a favour to him. And it’d give you something—someone—else to think about.”

“A hockey player? You sure about this, Fabs? Those types are trouble.”

Fabien laughs. “Yeah, maybe. But who knows? It might just be what you need to get you out of this Ewan mess.” Fabs doesn’t tell you, but his aim is also to rile Ewan up, which is precisely the nudge the guy needs to make him realise how much you matter to him. 

So Fabien remains Team Ewan, but he’s not averse to using Mat as the necessary turbo boost to get Ewan across the finish line.

The idea catches you off guard, but something about it appeals to you—a small, flickering spark of excitement in an otherwise bleak evening. Maybe this is just what you need to finally put an end to your era of pining for your best friend. You nod slowly, smiling up at him.

“Alriiight…” You hold a hand up when he immediately beams. “But I’ll need time to think about it!”

The next few days, Ewan is everywhere—texting, calling, ‘accidentally’ showing up at places he knows you’ll be. While it’s not exactly unusual behaviour for your best friend, this time, he’s taking it to a new degree. You would force a smile, acting nonchalant, brushing off his apologies and reassurances with an ease you obviously don’t feel.

“I’m not mad, Ewan,” you say lightly one morning when he stops by your place looking anxious, and a bit hungover. “I don’t care who you hook up with.”

He’s slumped down on your kitchen counter, propped up on his forearms. Perhaps he had nursed that bottle of whiskey a bit too much last night, after you ignored his seven successive attempts at ringing you. He narrows his eyes at you as you stand on the opposite side, like the two of you are in some kind of face-off. In these situations, he would have been able to count on you to be his remedy—your hand sliding up and down his back in that soothing way you always do, having a Paracetamol or three at the ready, pumping him with electrolytes, tucking him under a duvet then pushing his hair away from his face. 

But when he showed up that day, you only greeted him with a snide, “You look terrible, Ewan.” and “Want some coffee?” Just that. Coffee? Like he was some typical house guest. Even the hug you shared was drab, with him firmly wrapping his arms around you while you just stood there, and eventually patted his back twice after a moment. 

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” Another shrug.

“Really? Shit, you can’t even look at me. What are you looking at back there? You talking to the cupboard, love?” His growing frustration does not do wonders for his hangover. 

“Look,” you finally meet his eyes, and place your hand on top of his. “You know how I feel about you, and I… I suppose I’ve accepted it, that you don’t feel the same.” You swallow thickly, your mask of indifference threatening to crack. You convince yourself to press on, and that it'll be okay once you lay it out in the open. Maybe things can go back to normal. 

“But it’s okay—” you say, pausing for his reaction. He leans back slightly, his face falling. “—it’s really okay! We’re best friends, and we always will be. I really do care about you, Ewan, and that’s what matters. But I think I just… I need time.”

“Time?” Ewan’s voice comes out weak when he asks. “For what?”

“To get over you.”

Your words echo, cold and distant. Ewan’s shoulders slump, his expression pained. He tries to say something, but the words fail, and he eventually gives a tight nod, though he looks unsettled.

Yet as the week drags on, he doesn’t give up. On Friday evening, he appears at the coffee shop you frequent whenever you want to get work done, startling you from the email you were typing as he sits on the chair across. 

“Hey, love.” He looks spent, the bags under his eyes deepened from sleepless nights, the hoarseness in his voice a result of the packs of Marlboro he’s been mainlining due to his increased anxiety.

“Hey,” you mutter, eyeing him with concern. All you want to do is reach out and pull him against you, but what good would it do? In your defense, you did not think that some time apart would affect him this intensely. Hadn’t you reassured him that you would still be friends, that you will always be? So why is he acting like he has lost you completely?

“I know you need some space, but… I don’t want us to drift apart,” he says, leaning forward and taking over the small space. “You’re… everything to me. I can’t stand the idea of losing you.”

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. His sentiment is heartfelt, but it’s still not enough. So you give him a polite smile. “You won’t lose me, Ewan. I’m not going anywhere. Like I said, we’re friends, right? That’s what you wanted.”

He flinches, a flicker of regret crossing his face at the bitter reminder, but he concedes with a sharp nod, his jaw tightening.

Each encounter is the same: he’s pulling out all the stops to get back in your good graces, while you do your best to keep your distance. And each time he leaves, you can feel his disappointment, his frustration growing more palpable, but it doesn’t stop him from seeking you out again and again.

By the time the next week rolls around, you’re tired of the emotional tug-of-war. In an effort to move forward, you casually mention something to him as you have dinner together in your flat, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I actually have a date soon. With Fabien’s friend from New York. Mat. So, if you’re free, maybe you and… you and Louise could join us?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t notice the catch in your voice.

Ewan goes quiet, frozen on the kitchen stool. “A date?” he repeats, his voice a hoarse croak, the colour draining slightly from his face.

You nod, trying to keep your tone friendly. “Yeah. Fabien’s idea. You know him; apparently he thinks I need to meet new people.”

Ewan’s hand clenched around his fork, but he releases it slowly, letting the utensil drop to his plate with a shrill clang. A taut smile forms as he nods. “Sure. Maybe… maybe we can make it a double date.”

You agree, grateful that he doesn’t push back. After he leaves, you feel your phone buzz—a text from Fabien, checking in. You realise you’ll have to call him to set the date up for real, but for the first time, a small thrill of excitement flickers in your chest. Finally something new, something to look forward to, instead of looking to the past for what could have been. 

On the other hand, all Ewan feels after that moment is a sinking sense of dread. 

You give yourself a last once-over in the mirror, checking the outfit you’d carefully chosen and then doubted a dozen times. Casual but cute—at least, that’s what you’d aimed for. After all, it’s just a pub, albeit a bit on the upscale side. But you’re actually going to go out with a famous professional hockey player, so you want to make an impression. 

You have to admit it: you did a little recon on the Mat Barzal. Nothing major, just a peek at his Instagram, a few Google searches to catch up on his NHL stats, and maybe one (okay, ten) YouTube videos. He’s as impressive on the ice as he is off, all speed, poise, and confidence. And, sure, you’d skimmed a few articles too. He seems almost too good to be true: grounded, funny, that little bit of mystery that has you wondering what he’s like in person. 

And soon enough, he is standing right in your hallway, looking even better than the glossy photos online.

He’s taller than you pictured, with that easy, devastating smile that says he is able to feel completely at home anywhere, leaning casually with a certain charm that almost makes you forget the other guy you two are meeting.

There’s a light, playful tension between you as you head down the street, Mat walking close beside you, as if it’s just the most natural thing in the world. You make a mental note not to blurt out any ‘accidentally remembered’ trivia—like how he’s the Islanders’ points leader or that he grew up in Coquitlam. Nope, you’re playing it cool tonight.

You immediately find that he’s chatty, but in the best way. He talks easily, as if he’s known you for years, telling you about his day—something about getting hopelessly lost trying to find a decent cup of coffee and then spending twenty minutes looking for his rental car because apparently all the streets in that area of London look exactly the same. You’re laughing before you even realise it, and it’s nice, especially because he doesn’t ask for more than you want to share.

At one point, you catch him glancing down at you as you talk, a slight, interested tilt to his head.

“What?” you ask, feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering.

He shrugs, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. “Just wondering why Fabien didn’t introduce us sooner. Seems like kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you walk. So you’re at that point of the date, huh? “Maybe he didn’t introduce us because you live all the way out in New York.”

“Ah, well, maybe I can drag you back home with me, then.” He grins impishly, then gestures ahead as the pub comes into view, cozy lights glowing just beyond the doorway.

Mat glances down at you, offering his arm with a little flourish.

“Shall we?”

You hook your arm through his, feeling a spark of excitement as you step through the door together, into the welcoming glow and noise of the pub.

Ewan stares at his phone, rereading the draft of his message to Louise for what must be the tenth time. Every word feels off, and a bit pathetic if he’s honest. He knows Louise will say yes, but right now, that’s almost worse. He doesn’t know why he even agreed to this double date, just that he needs to be there, to see you, to… what? Compete with Mat Barzal?

It still stings, how easily you’d brought up this date. A guy like Mat, an NHL star who has half of New York swooning after every game? Ewan tries to shake it off, the words on his screen blurring together. He shouldn’t feel jealous—this is bloody ridiculous. But if the only way he can be there tonight is by bringing someone else along, he’s going to do it. Even if it means swallowing whatever pride he has left.

Taking a deep breath, he hits send: Hey, Louise, would you be up for drinks later? Thought it’d be fun to go out with you and some friends… He cringes at how formal it sounds, but it’s too late now. The message is out there.

It barely takes a full minute for Louise’s reply to come in, her enthusiasm palpable through the screen: YES! Totally! Can’t wait to see you. Let me know when to meet :) 

Ewan feels both relief and dread. Louise seems to have brushed off whatever weird vibe he’d given her at the party, chalking it up to the drinks or his own brand of awkwardness. He wishes he could just stay home tonight and pretend this wasn’t happening. But he wants to be there, if only to make sure… to make sure of what, exactly? To watch as you fall for some impossibly confident athlete, a guy who’s good-looking, successful, and probably charming as hell?

He takes a long breath and scrubs a hand over his face. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’ll be there as your best friend. Or whatever version of that role he’s reduced to tonight.

Later, Ewan’s leaning against the side of the pub, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance when Louise arrives. She’s dressed casually but clearly put effort into her look—hair styled in soft waves, her smile wide and warm as she spots him from across the street. He tries to muster a similar smile but feels it fall short.

“Hey!” she calls as she nears, giving him a playful bump on the arm. “Ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ewan laughs awkwardly as he pushes himself off the wall. “Didn’t think you’d say yes so fast.”

Louise grins, taking his comment as a light tease. “Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day. I’m glad you asked me out, Ewan.”

The words should feel good, flattering, but instead, they land somewhere hollow inside him. He musters a smile. “Glad you could make it.”

They start walking toward the entrance, Ewan trying to ignore the tight knot of anxiety in his chest. He knows you’re already here with Mat—he checked the time about ten times before finally leaving his place, running every possible conversation he might have with you through his head, looking for any way to seem unaffected, unbothered. But as he holds the door open for Louise and steps into the pub, it hits him: he isn’t sure if he’s more afraid of seeing you or of you not paying any attention to him at all.

The night starts out better than expected. Mat effortlessly becomes the unofficial leader of your little group, buying drinks for everyone as if it’s his duty and keeping the conversation light. With him, there’s no pressure, no assumptions—he’s just a genuinely nice guy who’s clearly here to show you a good time. Louise, meanwhile, is totally swept up in Ewan, hanging onto his every word, and you wonder if she’s even noticed that his attention is… not exactly on her.

For the first half hour, Ewan’s his usual reserved self, quietly nursing a pint and nodding along as Mat talks. You catch his eye once or twice, sending him a silent question, Are you okay? Each time, he just looks away, tapping his fingers against his glass, a little too focused on the froth floating near the top. But as the night wears on and the drinks keep coming, he’s not just tapping anymore—he’s interjecting. Little comments at first, almost harmless. But soon, it’s obvious: he’s countering Mat, line for line, almost like it’s a game.

“Right, so you like to box in your spare time?” Mat asks you, grinning. He’s been curious about every little detail, giving you that ‘first-date glow’ that you’d been sure was reserved for movies.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my stress reliever,” you say with a shrug, already feeling your cheeks hurt from smiling.

But Ewan cuts in with a half-smile. “We actually started that together, didn’t we, love?” he says, giving Mat a look like he’s testing him. “I practically had to drag her into the gym at first. But now she’s a total menace with the gloves on.”

Mat just plays along. “Good thing you’re into it now then,” he says mildly, unaffected.

And you can see that only irritates Ewan more.

Mat’s generosity doesn’t stop at drinks. He orders an array of finger food and slides the plates toward you, making sure you’ve had a bit of everything. It’s thoughtful, and your heart swells a little at his attentiveness.

“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you, Barzal?” Ewan murmurs with a slightly bitter laugh, clinking his glass a little too roughly against his empty one before looking at Mat. “Though I guess you have to be, right? With all the eyes on you all the time?”

Mat raises his brows, unruffled. “Just don’t like to let people go hungry. Especially not her,” he says, his tone sincere, smiling at you.

Ewan doesn’t bother hiding his scoff. “Oh, so that’s the bar now? Bringing someone snacks?”

Your face heats in embarrassment on behalf of your best friend, and even Louise nudges him, whispering something in his ear, but he just takes another long sip, leaning back as he watches you and Mat across the booth with a look that’s bordering on possessive. He keeps this up over the next round, seemingly unable to hold himself back. When Mat jokes about taking you to a hockey game back in the States, Ewan clears his throat.

“Does Mat know you don’t actually like crowded places?” he asks, his voice sharper than intended. “Or maybe you’ve changed?”

Mat looks between the two of you, amused but silent.

“Is that so?” Mat says smoothly. “I could have you set up in a box. Nice and private.”

You can feel Ewan bristling in front of you, his grip on his glass a little too tight. He leans over slightly, his voice low and challenging. “But Mat wouldn’t know that you’re actually scared of heights, would he?” he says, letting it drop as if it’s some kind of winning play.

“Ewan,” you say under your breath, trying to keep a smile on for Mat’s sake. But Ewan doesn’t hear you, or doesn’t want to. He’s just watching Mat like he’s daring him to make the wrong move. If he knew just how rowdy hockey players get on the ice, he’d probably think twice before attempting to rile Mat up.

Mat clears his throat, obviously picking up on the tension but shrugging it off. “Good thing hockey rinks are nice and low, eh?” he jokes, draping an arm around your shoulders, trying to bring you back to the easy atmosphere you had before Ewan started butting in.

“God, Mat, must be nice to not have a single care,” Ewan says with a bitter smile, tipping his glass toward him like a scornful, mocking salute before taking another sip. “Just float through life without worrying about, you know, things like actually knowing the people you’re dating.”

It’s the last straw. You look between him and Mat, irritation simmering hot in your chest. Mat looks at you, giving a slight shake of his head, as if to say he’s fine, but you’re not fine. You turn to Ewan, leaving no room for refusal.

“Ewan, can I talk to you? Outside. Now.”

He opens his mouth, probably to argue, but when he sees your expression, his face drops, and he sets down his drink. He rises slowly, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of regret in his eyes, but he just follows you out without a word.

As you step outside into the night air, the noise of the pub falling away behind you, you feel your anger finally bubble to the surface.

“What the hell is your problem, Ewan?” you snap, your voice cracking from the raw emotion clawing at you. “What was all that in there?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to say, his eyes flicking from the ground to your face. You can see him wrestling with himself, and it makes your blood boil even more.

“Are you really asking me that?” His voice comes out tight, like he’s barely holding it together. “What, am I supposed to sit there while he… while he puts his hands on you, looks at you like that?”

Your chest suddenly aches, and you shove past him, walking in a tight circle, trying to get the tension out of your limbs. You don’t even know why you’re still standing here, letting him say these things to you. But you can’t help but want to hear how he’s going to explain it all away. “What are you talking about, Ewan? Why should it matter to you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he shoots back as he steps closer, eyes dark with something you haven’t been at the receiving end of before. “Do you think I’m just going to let this happen? That I’d let you walk away with him?”

“Walk away?” you laugh bitterly. “You’re unbelievable. You pushed me away! You said we were just friends! You told me you didn’t want us to happen! And now you’re acting like you have the right to say this to me?”

His hands shake, and he clenches them into fists, eyes burning with frustration. “I was a fucking idiot, okay? I—” He stops, taking a deep breath, like he’s trying to keep it together. “I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I’m not gonna lie, I was pushing you away because I was scared. Scared of what we could be, scared of screwing everything up.”

You try to pick apart his words in your mind, and no matter how you spin it, they come back with the same message. He wants you.

He wants you?

“So what?” you mumble, as if asking yourself, “now, after all this time, now you decide you want me? Now you want to admit it? You had your chance. You had so many chances.”

His face twists in pain, and for a second, you think maybe he’s finally hearing you. But then his eyes flash, and it’s like the storm inside him is rising again. “Are you just going to…move on, just like that? Pretend I don’t matter? Like I don’t know you better than anyone?”

“I’m not pretending you don’t matter. I’m not pretending anything! But I can’t just sit around and wait for you to figure your shit out. I won’t do it. I’ve been waiting for you… all this time! And I can’t do it anymore.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence as he stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time and realising he might lose you in the same breath. He notes the way you fight back tears, your eyes glistening, the way you do when you’re pushed to the edge. You see that almost imperceptible twitch of his palms, fingers yearning for the ghost of a cigarette, the way he does when he’s on his last straw.

That pout of your lips that he adores. That clench in his jaw muscle that you want to trace with your fingertips.

You see each other, know each other like the backs of your hands. It’s a connection that has always made sense, that neither of you ever dared question it. What is left now is to finally call it what it is.

He takes another step closer.

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t… what…”

Ewan’s hands find your arms, pulling you toward him. “You don’t have to wait anymore. It’s always been you, my love. Always. I was a goddamn idiot, and now I’m losing you because I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

“Ewan—”

“I love you.”

It feels like the ground has been yanked out from under you, like you’re falling but somehow still standing there. A thousand memories flash through your mind in that instant—the way he’d glance at you across crowded rooms, those late-night calls when he’d barely say anything, just needing you to be on the other end of the line. The way he’d pull you close in the rare quiet moments, just you and him and this unspoken thing you thought you’d made up. 

All those years of thinking you were crazy, that you were seeing things that weren’t there. He was your best friend, the one person you trusted, but somewhere along the way, he became something more, and you couldn’t make sense of it because he’d never given you anything solid to hold onto.

And now… here he is, standing in front of you, saying the one thing you’ve always wanted him to say but thought he never would. You don’t know if you want to scream at him or fall into his arms. Maybe both.

It’s too much—the ache of loving him, of wanting him, and the pain of having to hide it behind easy smiles and casual laughter. And now, he’s standing here telling you he feels the same.

“You can’t—” your voice shakes as the words spill out, your disbelief palpable. “You can’t say that. Not now, after everything. After you told me you didn’t want this, didn’t want me. I was so ready to be yours, Ewan, and you just… And then I find you with her, and—”

Ewan’s hands reach up to cradle your face tentatively, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I know, my love. But I was scared of losing you that I pushed you away. I thought it’d be easier that way. I didn’t… I didn’t think it would end up like this. I’m sorry.”

In a last ditch effort of self-preservation, to keep from falling straight down the pit of no return, into the promise of him, you offer the words that sound right. “We’ll be okay, Ewan. We always be… friends…”

“Oh fuck that, my darling.”

And before you can think further, before you can even decide what to do next, his lips crash into yours, hard and full of every unspoken feeling, every wasted year, every goddamn minute you spent wondering if he’d ever feel this way about you—gone. His kiss is fierce, filled with so much need it almost hurts. And you’re kissing him back, your hands clutching at his shirt, feeling him press you tightly against his body as if he could make up for all the times he pulled away.

But then, just as abruptly, it all comes rushing back. The weight of years of hoping crashes down on you like a wave. 

You pull back, breathless, hands pushing against his chest, and he stumbles back, his eyes wide, face flushed and full of surprise. 

“I can’t,” you whisper, barely able to look at him, your mind still buzzing from the intensity of his kiss. “I can’t do this, Ewan. Not like this. Not now.”

“But—”

“We have to head back inside. We’re both on dates, remember?”

This time, it’s you who breaks away.

tagging Ewan's angels: @darktrashsoulbear @mamawiggers1980 @feed-my-downfall @leftoverp1zza @msbyswife @katherine93 @littlehannekin18 @nurtargaryen @aemondswifeisme @barnes70stark @garden-in-the-rain @salermotatis @lina-lovebug @strangersunghoon @hydrationqueensworld @eclecticqueennerd @kckt88 @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @primroseluna @sillysillygyal @b00kw0rmsworld @raging-panda @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @aspookiepookie @peachysunrize @dreamygirli3 @callsignwidow

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Shy One

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: a night out ends in an embarrassing encounter.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It feels like you’re seeing the world through tinted glass. The low lights, the buzz of voices, and the subtle clink of glasses feed the haze around you. That and the cocktail in your hand. Just ice now. Your second. You’re surprised how easily it went down. 

“Want another?” Mikayla asks as you play with the thin straw. 

“Maybe not yet,” you shrug. 

She grins at Alina, “lightweight?” 

The other women laugh. You’re too embarrassed to admit it but you are. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted alcohol. If they don’t mock you for confessing, they wouldn’t believe you. 

“So happy you came out,” Katy grins. 

“Yeah, too bad you didn’t make the work mixer last month,” Lu says. 

“Hm, yeah, I just... I couldn’t make it,” you chew your lip. 

“Mmm, Mik,” Katy purrs, “you seeing what I’m seeing?” 

Katy tilts her head and Mikayla follows her gaze. Alina and Lu do the same and you dare to peek after them. There’s a table of men across the bar. There timbre forms a dulcet drone amid the din. 

“Sexy, look at that beard.” Alina slithers 

“Which one?” Lu giggles. 

You shift and look down at your glass. You wrap both your hands around it and squirm. They said it was just work drinks. You don’t want to be dealing with strangers. 

“Oh, honey, loosen up,” Alina grabs your starched collar and pops the top button. “You have another one of those and you’ll be dancing on the table.” 

“Um,” you lean away from her, “maybe. Erm, I need to go to the restroom.” 

“Boo, too early to break the seal,” Katy whines. 

“Sorry,” you apologise and stand. 

You take your glass with you and as you turn, you stop short as your eyes meet another pair. One of the men from the crowded table catches you in his gaze. You gulp and quickly lower your chin. You hurry on to the bar and set your empty glass on it. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

“Oh, thanks,” the man behind it swipes it away. “The waitress coulda grabbed that.” 

“Oh, now worries,” you show a palm and turn to find the restroom. 

You head down the hallway behind the bright blue sign. You dip into the ladies and claim a stall. As nice as it is to release the pressure, it’s even nicer to get a breather. You’re not the bar type. Not a drinker or a dancer, as much as Alina keeps suggesting it. You’re a total square. Thirty years old and you’ve never done anything more fun than laser tag. 

You wash your hands and leave the bathroom reluctantly. The music seems louder as you come out, the voices too. As you enter the barroom, you slow down. You’re mortified to find Alina and Katy in the open space, dancing. Grinding against each other. 

You stand there, frozen and embarrassed. The other women at the table cheer them on lewdly. You don’t know what to do. Sitting with Lu and Mikayla would draw as much attention as joining the dancing. This doesn’t seem like the place for that. 

Maybe it’s time for you to go. You’re feeling a bit cloudy and your eyes are fuzzy. You’ve been up since five in the morning. 

You slowly cross the space but have to dodge as Alina spins out and nearly crashes into you. In an effort to avoid her, you hit the side of a table, bouncing off of it and staggering until you fall onto something soft. Thank gosh you managed to find a seat in your descent. 

“Mmph,” the grunt greets you with the firm cushion beneath you, “y’alright, doll?” 

You look over in horror at the man who’s lap you sit upon. How embarrassing!! You look around at the other men at the table as it dawns on you. This is the worst crash landing you can imagine. 

You gasp and peer back at the man who serves as your chair. He’s terrifyingly handsome. His eyes are so blue and his jaw is chiseled beneath his dark beard. His brown hair curtains down around his cheekbones and his cheek dimples in amusement. 

“I’m so sorry,” you wriggle against him as he spreads his large hand across your back. “I tripped. I didn’t man to—oh gosh.” 

You touch your scalding forehead and try to shimmy out of his lap. It’s useless as you can’t get much of a stronghold. You just manage to ground your butt down on him. 

“You okay there?” He runs his fingertips up your spine and sends a shiver through you. 

“I’m--- sorry!” You gulp out again. “Please, I’m--” you grab the corner of the table and manage to haul yourself up. “I’m so...” you shake your head and bluster. You’re burning in humiliation. You can feel the other men watching you. “Ugh.” 

You turn and scurry around Alina and Katy. You quickly gather up your purse and coat as the women at the table laugh. “Oh, honey, why don’t you give him a nice ride,” Lu teases. 

You blanch at her and makes a face, “I didn’t mean to--” 

“Oh, chill,” Mikayla chides. “Really, it was funny. Where are you going?” 

“Home,” you exclaim. “Stop laughing at me. You’ve been laughing at me all night.” 

Lu scoffs, “well, you’re a bit silly, aren’t you? Act like you’ve never touched a man or a drink before.” 

You frown and flutter your lashes against the singe of hot tears. This is why you always say no. Why you are always ‘busy’. You don’t fit in. You’re better off alone. 

You hug your coat and bag and hurry across the bar. You push through the door and stagger out into the night with a sniffle. Oh joy, work is going to be even worse. Now they’re going to sit around and cackle at you instead of Wendy and her tacky dresses. 

You look around, searching for your bearings. You need to find a cab and get out of here. You see once coming down the pavement. You shift your things into one arm and throw your other up. The taxi steers towards the sidewalk but picks up another pedestrian further down. 

You huff and crane in search of another escape. 

“Hey, doll,” a rocky voice calls over the hinges of the bar door. “Where’re you off to?” You continue to peer down the street, frightened as you feel a gentle nudge on your elbow, “hey, talking to you. You didn’t even give me a name after you sat right on me.” 

You flinch and reel away from him, “huh? What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was just... clumsy.” 

“Ah, it’s fine. Really. It was funny,” he assures you. “I’m not making fun of you. Just, a pretty girl falls right in my lap then runs away, I kinda gotta wonder...” 

“Umph?” You furrow your brow, “you’re making fun of me too.” 

“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “Come back inside. Let me by you a drink.” You shake your head and wave your hand past him at another yellow cab. He chuckles softly, “you don’t gotta be shy.” 

“I don’t know you,” you insist. 

“I’m tryna fix that,” he counters. 

“Really, I just wanna go home,” you whine as the taxi drives by without stop. 

“Right, let’s do that,” he turns and throws his hand up. He whistles and wiggles his fingers. A cab rolls right up to him. “Let’s go.” 

He opens the back door and stands back. You stare at it. 

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You get in, ducking through the door, greeting the driver with a polite, “hello.” 

Yet the door doesn’t close. Instead, you’re urged further inside by the man as he sits on the seat next to you. You slide over as he pulls the door shut behind him. 

“Tell him where we’re going, doll,” he commands. 

You look at him, then the driver. You’re too stunned to think. What is he doing? You give your address and curl your shoulders as you shrink down. 

“Now,” the man stretches his arm across the seat, “we got the whole ride to get to know each other,” he offers his other hand, “I’m Bucky, I hear I make a pretty comfy seat.�� 

You can’t help half a smile. You reach and shake his hand. You suppose he did help you out and he doesn’t seem angry about your unceremonious fall. You give him your name. 

“Thanks,” you say again. 

“Thanks? Oh doll, what kinda fool wouldn’t help a girl like you?” 

[yoursicklilbaby]

Just Like Honey

I cannot believe that I did it, but I did it, and the second part is yet to come.

Pairing: Agatha x Non-binary Reader x Rio

Summary: AU. You were invited to a fancy art-exhibition opening where you saw the Green Lady performance; the rest is history.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: NSFW 18+

this was supposed to be a smut with some plot, but I’m a slowburner. Mommy, daddy kinks, a bit of smoking, tantra, submission, dominance, petnames, orgasm control.

Butt stuff awaits in the next chapter, sorry guys xx

***

You were heading towards the exit the building to take a break from the cramped halls of the museum and have a cigarette. Not that you were an avid smoker, but a friend of yours left her pack at your place the other day, and you felt like a mischievous teen sneaking out—it tickled your fancy, even though you were now almost 30 years old, getting your Ph.D. in psychology, but still not quite believing that you’d made it this far. A grown-ass therapist, helping people with their stuff, yet still having your gay panicky moments when surrounded by gorgeous women at events like this.

It was an opening of an art-exhibition to which you had been invited by your friend who worked there as a curator but she was now busy with her colleagues in the venue’s private lounges, so you were all by yourself. You were enjoying the buzz of the exquisite gathering, but were a little stunned after the performance you had just seen.

A beautiful dark-haired woman in a green sparkling ballet leotard—her arms and legs beautifully adorned with black mesh fabric, ropes and flowers—danced alone in the center of a darkly lit room to the soundtrack of Thom Yorke's Suspiria.

You loved the movie and remembered how it turned you on, particularly the unspoken interaction between Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson’s characters. This performer was nothing alike—there was definitely something witchy about her, but in a different way. She was not subtle at all—like a storm of green fire, she radiated power, so free and uninhibited; her movements and leaps resembled a dance of tribal origins, with dust swirling up as she touched the ground. Heavy breathing stirred all your senses, she smelled of some herbal fragrance, with a dash of amber-musk earthy touch. You stayed close and felt it, causing your cheeks redden, and you instinctively clenched your thighs, as a wave of thrill surged within you. The intense sexual energy in the thick air was overwhelming, and you felt the urge to calm down.

Standing at the museum’s main entrance, you lit the cigarette, took a few puffs and looked around. It was nice outside, with all those glowing neon lights and fog. You took out your phone to snap selfies with your cigarette to tease your social media followers later.

‘These are gonna kill you one day, rock’n’rolla,’ said the raspy voice not far from you.

You were about to respond to such a cliché with a grumpy face, but looked up and saw her.

The woman in her 50s in a fancy dark purple suit was devouring you with her piercing blue eyes. Her purposely disheveled hair with a long, wavy bangs emphasized her mysterious and even fierce gaze. God, she was sexy, exactly your type. You stood there in silence with your burning cigarette, while she grinned.

‘Lovely opening, isn’t it?’ she said, inviting you to a small talk.

‘Yeah, indeed,’ you said with a little tremor in your voice. ‘You know, I don’t actually smoke, it’s just…’ Surprisingly for yourself, you started making excuses like a schoolboy.

‘I was kidding, hon.’ She laughed and came closer. ‘May I?’

‘Sure.’ Ignoring the nickname, that made you feel disoriented, you gently reached toward her side, expecting her to grab the cigarette with her hand. Instead, she inhaled it with her mouth, her lips brushing softly against your fingertips. You were in so much trouble.

‘Agatha Harkness,’ she introduced herself.

‘Y/N, they/them,’ you said, preventing any potential subsequent misunderstandings.

‘I’ll remember that,’ she winked at you and looked you over from head to toe, making you blush.‘Love the shoes!’

‘Thanks…Agatha.’ You smiled and gazed at your worn but timeless Docs. They were a win-win choice to accompany your laidback look with black jacket and jeans with a chain dangling from them. She came closer and playfully touched the chain.

‘You’re a classy, rock’n’rolla, aren’t you? You must be an artist?’

‘No, no, I’m just…a tourist. My friend is working there, she invited me.’

‘I see,’ Agatha was inspecting you with her languid eyes.

You were trying to do your best and continue the small talk. God, you were so bad at this, but this time your gut was telling you to buckle up, treat the woman with respect, and make words into sentences. She was so magnetic, you were willing to do anything not to bore or spook her away. You were ready to do anything overall and to follow her anywhere.

‘What about you? Are you here by yourself?’ you asked.

‘My wife is performing tonight, and I have a penchant for contemporary art. A philanthropist, so to speak. What’s your thing?’

Something dropped inside you, as you heard about the wife. But Agatha looked so alluring, still staring at you: she approached your hand with a cigarette once again and ghosted your fingers with her lips, giving you shivers.

‘I’m a therapist actually. I fancy different forms of arts, but this time it was the performance that hit right in the heart. Have you seen it? The one with the dancing green lady?’

‘I did. Many times.’

‘Many times? I thought it was a special thing for the opening…’

‘Rio, the green lady, she’s my wife,’ Agatha smirked.

Fucking hell, no way. You couldn’t hide the redness in your cheeks any more and you bet she noticed.

‘Wow, I mean…she’s really good.’

‘She is. I’m glad that you loved it,’ she smiled suspiciously.

‘So, Y/N, do you wanna get back or take a stroll with me?’

‘I…what about Rio?’

‘Ah, Rio is having an after-party with a group of artists later tonight.’

‘Won’t you join her?’

‘I’m too old for such things—

‘You’re not old,’ you interrupt her. ‘You are—

‘I am what?’

‘You’re…a vision.’

‘That’s cute, thank you,’ she bit her lip, pleased with your compliment. ‘So are you coming with me or not?’

You vigorously nodded. She flipped her lush hair back over her shoulder, adjusted her jacket and said teasingly:

‘Come, pet!’

It was impertinent, to say the least. You were taken aback with this new nickname, but followed her anyway. Agatha seemed to be full of secrets that were eager to be revealed.

***

You were walking down the alley together, talking about art and her business. You were so curious, you wanted to know everything about the woman. It turned out that she was in charge of many of the upscale contemporary art exhibitions around the world, and she enjoyed having authority while guiding her teams. Needless to say, she was rich, maybe even get-away-with-murder rich, but when discussing her work, she expressed herself with a great deal of passion–it wasn't merely about money, but rather about the beauty she wanted to share globally. That was incredibly powerful.

The faint glow of the lanterns barely lit up the fallen autumn leaves beneath your feet; with the air being crisp and chilly, you raised the collar of your jacket and hugged yourself tightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Agatha, so she put her hand on your back, caressing you warmly. Unintentionally, you curved your back a bit, enjoying her gentle touch.

‘Look at you, poor thing, you’re shivering! Let’s get you home, I need you alive.’

You blushed again but didn’t hesitate. To be frank, you loved being taken care of, especially by older women.

You followed her to her car and dropped your jaw—an exquisite purple Mercedes with a slick, shiny hood and graceful outline was waiting for you; the muffled sound of a running engine and the headlights flashing enticingly. A slender girl in a leather jacket and a chauffeur's hat emerged from the driver’s seat and opened the rear doors for you both.

‘This is Lee, my bodyguard. Lee, this is Y/N, let’s take them wherever they tell you to go and then we’ll head home. Mommy needs her sleep.’ Agatha sighed looking at you to ensure you heard her one-liner.

You got turned on in a second and felt already wet; your cunt was aching, being aroused just by the word alone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

‘Yes, ma���am,’ shortly answered Lee, and glanced at you from the rear-view mirror with a cold demeanour.

You muttered the address to the car dynamic and looked sideways.

‘Don’t worry, hon, Lee is my person of trust. She’s very protective and just does her job well, making sure my family is safe as kittens, that’s right, Lee?’

Lady in black nodded and fixed her eyes on a road, a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

‘At what time should I pick up Rio, ma’am?’

‘I bet she’s partying all night, so just park somewhere in the area on your ride back; she will call you.’ Agatha said a little worriedly, biting her lip.

‘Roger that.’

They both seemed suspicious but you thought that it would be inappropriate to ask Agatha about her partner right now. You didn’t want to interfere with their relationship, despite Agatha assuring you that it was fine for the two of you to hang out.

‘Rio is a little out of control sometimes, you know,’ Agatha said as if she could read you mind. ‘Once they went into the woods and had a bonfire with fireworks, Rio’s idea. It was a restricted area, so I had to clean up the mess and deal with the police. When she parties nonstop, I lose control and worry. And I hate being worried.’

‘It’s okay to worry when you love someone, don’t be too hard on yourself,’ you said.

‘Thank you, doc,’ she smirked and stroked your thigh.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shrink you,’ you said, melting by her touch.

‘It’s fine, I just wanted to call you ‘doc’, it turns me on.’

You giggled nervously, trying to gather a response, but couldn’t think of anything and turned your face away from her in embarrassment.

Suddenly Agatha moved closer to you and tucked your short hair behind your ear; she stopped her fingers on your earlobe, rubbing it gently. You closed your eyes and moaned faintly. She enjoyed watching how easily you trembled under her touch. The car was slowing down and you saw the features of your house through the window.

‘Turn around, pet. I want your beautiful eyes to look at me now,’ the woman commanded. You couldn’t resist her low strict voice. You wanted to obey her.

‘That’s a good pet, look at me, talk to me. Is it okay when I call you so?’ Agatha was holding your chin, her gaze was serious.

‘Yes,’ you mumbled.

‘Not quite the answer. Say it again.’

‘Yes, Agatha.’

‘Nah-ah. Try harder. You know the answer.’

‘Yes…Mommy.’

‘Well done, pet,’ she bestowed you with a warm smile and pecked your cheek. ‘Now give me your phone number, I’ll text you soon.’

***

And just like that, it took up almost all of your brain cells for the weekend—a VIP purple lounge embellished with poison ivy exuding an amber-sandalwood scent. You googled Agatha, but it was pointless—people like her tended to stay in the shadows savouring their power in other ways.

Rio Vidal, on the other hand, was easy to find. She was a prodigy dancer and had hundreds of instagram followers. God, how sublime she was, looking from photos straight into the camera with her brown eyes giving the evil witchy gaze, the same you saw at her performance. She was insanely hot and intimidating at the same time. You were scrolling her page carefully, trying not to accidentally like any photo—you were still uncertain about what kind of relationship they had and you definitely didn’t want someone like Rio to turn into your enemy.

Your phone didn’t make a sound during the whole weekend, and you were about to admit that all of this was just a delusional dream, that probably Rio came back home the other day, they had a conversation, and Agatha deleted your number for good, giving preference to her family. That made sense, albeit frustrating, as your imagination had already conjured vivid images of Agatha touching you, controlling you, calling you nicknames and teasing you until you beg for her mercy.

comepetlookatmepetgoodpetmommyneedshersleeppetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpet

Jeez, just a brief thought of it made your stomach churn in seconds. And truthfully, as much as you hated to say it, Rio crossed your mind as well. In fact, you were craving both of them to make your wildest dreams come true, and you were ready to go to great lengths to get the unachievable; you were dying of hunger and lust. But you couldn’t do a thing about it. It was burning you inside out.

On Monday, you worked with your clients in a cabinet, doing your best not to let your mind interfere with your therapy process. You were doing this for a long time, so normally your personal life stayed aside, and you would easily go into meta-position, all senses on a client and their session. But today was challenging as hell, and you were waiting for your supervision to let it all out from your chest and move on for good.

During a break, you went outside for a smoke—it evoked recent memories and made you feel things. You closed your eyes and pictured Agatha’s lips on your fingertips. Was in even real? Or was it a spell casted by the green witch dancing to Volk in the dusty room? Fuck, it ached so much, and also turned you on, just thinking of that Friday evening. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Your heart raced, and you felt fever all over your body.

Hey bro, sorry for leaving you alone! Did you have fun?

Such a bummer. Finally, your friend remembered your existence, but right now you didn’t give a flying fuck.

That was a blast, thanks again for the invite!

You were ready to throw your useless phone somewhere out of sight and forget about it until the end of the working day. You were furious, to say the least.

***

In the evening, when you came back home, you couldn’t help but open Rio’s instagram page again. As if something there would give you a clue why the fuck Agatha was torturing you. Yes, you knew you had no right to judge; being a homewrecker never was in your plans, but still—she gave you a promise, and you believed her. At least one text…You couldn’t accept that you were played like a teen, and you hated it so much, being trapped by her looks, teasing nicknames, and touches. God, you’d give up everything to feel her touch on your skin again.

Mommy please…

All of a sudden you lost your patience and felt brave enough to open Rio’s stories. It’s not stalking if a person is a celebrity, is it? After all, she had numerous followers, so it was unlikely she recognized you among the crowd based on your avatar.

There were some reposts about yoga or tantric classes, nothing that would give you any information…well, it was worth a try. You closed the page, sighed with a bittersweet relief and laughed at yourself. What am I doing? Just put yourself together, delulu.

Just then, your phone vibrated, and you noticed a new number in the preview. You quickly sprang out of bed as if it were on fire.

You didn’t forget about Mommy, did you?

OH MY GOD. You smiled to yourself like an idiot and screamed in high-pitched voice, covering your mouth with a palm of your hand. Fuck. What should I say. Sweet suffering Jesus. You couldn’t believe that it was happening, but somehow you put your shit together and came up with a suitable response.

I don’t remember anything else.

Good pet. What do you think about coming over on Friday evening to our place?

It would be a pleasure!

I’ll send Lee to pick you up at 8PM, be ready.

Yes!

Wrong answer.

Yes, Mommy

;)

You laughed at the old-fashioned smile she sent, but thought that it was cute. You counted days until Friday, so desperate to see her again. There was just one tiny mystery regarding ‘our place’ in her message.

Does it mean that Rio would be there too? Or does it refer to ‘our house’ meaning the place where they live? Will Rio be out? Does she know?

Thoughts were racing in your head, but you were too anxious to ask in advance. And, frankly speaking, you always loved surprises.

***

On Friday evening at exactly 8 PM, the same purple car pulled up to your house, and Lee briefly waved to you with her hand, the same pokerface though.

You sat beside her, deciding that it would be more comfortable to avoid eye contact. She still seemed to be somewhat scary. It was an awkward silence for a while.

‘It's a 30-minute ride, so feel free to play some music if you like.’

You gladly accepted, and she handed you the chord. You picked something neutral, and ‘Shadow’ by Chromatics began to play from the Mercedes' speakers.

‘You have a good taste, Y/N.’

‘Thanks, Lee,’ you answered a bit surprised that she remembered your name.

***

They lived out of town; the car parked in front of a big house, which resembled one of those from thrillers featuring families living in chic houses with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, observed by serial killers. Elegant minimalism with a lovely garden.

As you walked through the gates, your heart raced with excitement. She was standing there, arms crossed and head tilted. Those stunning hair, with a flawless dark-brown balayage. She gave you a wink and your cunt instantly reacted and flowed.

‘Nice to see you again, rock’n’rolla,’ Agatha smiled.

‘Thanks for having me. Your house is amazing!’

‘You haven’t even seen what’s inside. Come, pet, Rio can’t wait to meet you.’

Your eyes widened in shock as you gasped in confusion—Agatha placed her hand on your back to reassure you.

‘Hi, I’m Rio!’

A striking woman in total black appeared in the grand hallway, seemingly appearing from thin air. You began to wonder if she might actually be a witch.

‘Pleasure to meet you, I’m Y/N,’ you replied nervously, extending your hand for a shake unable to come up with anything better.

‘I heard! Agatha told me that you watched me dancing and you loved it, didn’t you?’ Rio approached closely, giving you the wildest seductive smile, then grasped your hand tightly and led you into the living room. You smelled the familiar earthy scent she’d worn before. Oh god.

You and Agatha were sitting on a blue velvet couch around a coffee table filled with snacks, soft drinks, and fruit of all kinds. Rio was gracefully laying on the fluffy carpet before you, leisurely putting a cherry into her mouth, and you couldn't take your eyes off this little spectacle. It looked like she was intentionally teasing you, leaving you unsure if you needed Agatha's consent to gaze at her wife that way.

‘Do you know anything about tantra, Y/N?’ she asked you, looking at Agatha sideways, as if they’d be having a silent conversation the whole time.

‘I…well, not much, to be honest,’ you muttered.

‘I bet you’ll love it! You know, it’s my new thing apart from dancing. We planned something special for today, and it’s absolutely magical,’ she playfully raised her eyebrows and smirked.

I see, everything about you two is magical.

Agatha observed you the entire time, and you were sitting there red-faced, drenched in desire, unsure how to act. You didn't dare look at Agatha at that moment, felt guilty about being so attracted to Rio, yet it was beyond your control.

‘You’re blushing, sweetheart, is everything alright?’ Agatha traced her fingers down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Yeah…I’m good,’ you answered looking down, studying the carpet patterns.

‘Look me in the eye, when I’m talking to you, pet,’ she said harshly.

You were startled, but you obeyed. A smile appeared on her strict face as she stroked your cheekbone. She narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue.

‘They are so beautiful, aren’t they, Rio?’ Agatha said moving her face closer to yours.

‘You have impeccable taste, my love,’ said Rio, sucking on a berry.

You could hear the sound of her tongue slurping, but now you were sure you would need Agatha’s permission to gaze at Rio. Anyway, now you were staring at Agatha’s face in admiration—her stern eyebrows, her pale skin, lovely crinkles around her eyes when she was smiling, prominent jawline and those delicious kissable red lips. How badly you wanted to kiss them. She smelled of wood and bergamot; it was a heavy perfume that made you feel a bit dizzy, but you wanted to drown in her deep waters with dangerous waves. You longed to be swallowed whole by her.

‘Lee told me you're a melomaniac, do you have any suggestions for our playlist? By the way, you can look at Rio now, if you want to, hon,’ Agatha caressed your cheek once more, giving you her approval.

You couldn't tell if the whole situation was scaring you or turning you on, but something was pushing you to take action. Use it or lose it.

You took out your phone and linked it to the speaker.

Madi Sipes ‘Somebody’s daughter’ started playing in the background:

Somebody’s daughter’s calling me daddy, so I get on my knees, I’ll do everything for you…

‘Ooh who’s your daddy, little one?’ Rio laughed, looking at you with her brown cherry eyes.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I just love this songwriter, they have a deep voice and dreamy melodies,’ you said nervously and started flushing again.

‘She’s fucking with you, rock’n’rolla,’ said Agatha and gently ghosted her fingers down the back of your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure and took a deep breath.

‘Not yet, darling,’ Rio replied and giggled loudly. ‘By the way, shouldn’t we prepare to tantra, don’t you think, babe?’ She said looking at her wife.

‘Okay, I’ll let you borrow Y/N to prepare cocoa and I’ll be waiting for you both in the parlor,’ Agatha commanded, looking at Rio, ‘and no funny business.’

***

You went to the kitchen and Rio explained that cocoa thing to you.

‘They usually drink it before tantric sessions, you know, to stimulate creative energy, to let it all go…that sort of thing,’ she said cryptically.

‘And what exactly are we going to do?’ You wondered.

‘We’ll see! You never can say for sure how a session will go, but from my experience, it’s all about pleasure, which is why I love tantra. Simply switch off that clever mind of yours and rely on your gut feelings,’ she said, filling the cups with hot cocoa.

Oh, that’s risky. You approached the kitchen island to take the tray.

‘Just so you know,’ she whispered in your ear and licked it slowly, ‘I’m the daddy in this house.’

You were so doomed, but there was no turning back. The game was on, full force.

You carried the cocoa cups while Rio guided you to the parlor, which in fact was a dim red room with soft carpet, candles, a gong and a faint scent of Palo Santo. Soft meditative music gently filled the space.

‘This is my territory, so I’m in charge here, and you should listen and follow my instructions,’ Rio declared.

Agatha frowned slightly and grinned at her while Rio awkwardly chuckled.

‘Don’t be so tense, baby, I know you’ll love it.’

The dynamics of their relationship were still a mystery for you, but it was tantalizing and you were ready for anything at this point.

‘With the powers of darkness, whore-ness and slut-ness, let the ceremony begin!’ Rio said grotesquely. You struggled not to burst into laughter, marvelling at how hilarious and confident she was being.

You were drinking cocoa, seated comfortably on the floor in a small circle and closing your eyes. Rio said something about a request that each of you should formulate in your head without sharing it. Tonight you dreamed of only one thing. One that would involve the three of you and hopefully last for a long time.

Than the music became louder, you stood up and began swaying with your eyes shut, slow-dancing, stretching your bodies. Rio was leading you throughout.

‘Let’s chose the person who will be in the center,’ she said. ‘So we work with their request.’

Agatha pointed at you and the choice was made.

You stood in between them, still trying to understand where this was going.

‘Calm your body, shut your eyes, don’t say a word and focus on your desire. Let us know if anything bothers you, but show it with your body language, and we'll halt.’

You quietly nodded, taking a deep breath.

‘Actually, you know what, let’s take a little precaution,’ said Rio, blindfolding you with a silky tissue.

It was somewhat like an enchanting journey, and you still struggled to believe it was real. A soft but steady hand was brushing your hair, caressing your head slowly, sending delightful shivers down your spine. The other woman's hands moved over your body from your shoulders to your hips, ankles, and feet with intense pleasure. The sensation was so thrilling that you pleaded for her not to stop, not ever.

They were moving circles around you, uttering incomprehensible words; it felt like meditation taken to a different dimension infused with incantations and a flow of sexual energy coursing through your body, making your skin tingle.

Unexpectedly, the meditation playlist shifted its mood, and you could hear ‘Just Like Honey’ filled the air with the speakers. It all felt like honey indeed, and you found yourself shamelessly immersed in it.

They drew nearer, their bodies were touching yours, growing warmer and more intimate with each movement. The women started slow-dancing around you, wrapping your body with theirs, you could feel Agatha’s hands on your hips, her hair touching your face, Rio’s nails inspecting your back and her intense breath on your neck—you were over the moon, ready to die of a great deal of pleasure, you wanted more of it and moaned very loud, not realising it. Usually, you were a slow burner, but everything you had experienced before couldn’t hold a candle to this magical ritual and you felt like you were about to cum from just their subtle touches. Now you were truly convinced to be conjured by the witches; ready to serve them and be their whore for life.

They pressed they hips against yours, swaying to the beat of the music. They were so close to you, but not close enough, they were torturing you: Agatha ghosted the tip of her nose over yours, while Rio was running her tongue along the inside of your palm. You groaned with painful desire.

‘Shhh, not yet, be a good pet for Mommy,’ you heard Agatha’s husky voice in extreme proximity to your ear, and felt your pussy clenching and dripping again.

‘Mommy please…’ you moaned against her lips. ‘I want you so bad, I want both of you so bad, I’m gonna die…’

‘Patience, sweetheart,’ Rio whispered as she nibbled at your earlobe. ‘We’re not done with our spell yet.’

They were ghosting your whole body with their hands, giving you soft kisses from head to toes, whispering:

Look at you, our pet

In our hands, melting like a candle

Forget everything you knew before

Give yourself to us

Surrender to us completely

Mommy and daddy will take care of you

Mommy and daddy will fuck you all night

Mommy and daddy will fill all your holes

You will cum for mommy and daddy

Only when they let you

Agatha removed the smooth scarf from your head, gazing into your eyes with a seductive smile as her hand gently rested on your chin. Rio approached her gracefully, nuzzling against you like a sleek black cat, her hand securely placed on your waist. She kissed Agatha harshly, driven by desire and fervor, their lips and tongues intertwining in rhythm, while their arms embraced you from either side as if you were their property. You were hypnotized watching them kiss right in front of you; their beckoning velvet skin bathed in the warm red glow of the magical parlor room.

‘Wanna join, rock’n’rolla?’ They parted in a kiss for a fleeting moment before looking at you with desire, drawing your face towards theirs and inviting you to kiss them together, all at once.

You felt their tongues playing with yours, and the three of you moved in perfect harmony, as if you’d been doing it for eternity. A wave of anticipation surged within you, making your cunt squeeze over and over, but you knew it was just the warm-up.

***

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕩

Warning: Angst/comfort/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words left his lips as soon as he sat down across from her. His voice was low, full of regret, but the moment they left him, he regretted them. He could already feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him.

“Sorry for what exactly, Chan?” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “For leaving me for dead?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart tightened painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice. If only she knew...

“I didn’t leave you for dead... I promise.” His voice was a soft whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. He shut his eyes, willing away the pain that threatened to swallow him.

“Then what exactly is it?” She scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her eyes flashed with an intensity that made his chest tighten even more. “What’s your excuse?”

“Can... can you let me explain?” His words came out barely above a whisper, but there was a pleading tone to them. He needed her to understand—needed to make her see that he never meant for things to turn out this way.

She tilted her head, studying him for a long, hard moment. “You guys were at the territory line, right? You could smell my scent... and yet you chose to ignore it. You could hear my screams through the bond, but you chose to ignore that too,” she said, each word sharper than the last. Her anger was building, and it felt like it was radiating off her, burning everything in its path.

She was right—and wrong—and it ate at him.

He felt the weight of her words, but there was so much more she didn’t know.

“Oh, Y/N… if you only knew…” Chan thought to himself, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“That’s not what happened!” The words came out more forcefully than he intended, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “Just... let me explain. Please.”

He couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall now. The overwhelming guilt, the helplessness—it all came rushing back, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Y/N said bitterly, her arms still crossed, her gaze as hard as stone. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving him. The challenge in her words was clear—prove it.

Chan took a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long. He wasn’t sure how to start, but the words felt too important to rush.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hyung, look at this! Changbin’s voice boasted through the bond, brimming with excitement. He was a few meters away from Chan and LeeKnow, clearly having found something unusual.

What is it? Chan asked, his paws deep in the soil as he worked on scent-marking the perimeter of their territory. The branches around him swayed gently, brushing against his fur.

I just found this… dead… deer? Changbin tilted his head, trying to get a better smell of the carcass, his nose twitching in confusion.

Deer? We never have deer here… Chan responded, perplexed. Wait—don’t touch it! His ears pricked up, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.

Chan’s body tensed, and he moved swiftly, using his heightened senses to track Changbin’s scent. As he closed the distance, he could feel the hairs along his neck stand on end. When he finally arrived, the sight before him took him by surprise.

Why is there a deer here? Chan questioned, his voice low, almost growling, as he scanned the area. The animal’s body lay unnaturally far from their territory line, and it was disturbing—too far beyond the boundaries of where it should have been.

Do you think someone was here? Changbin asked, circling the lifeless creature, sniffing cautiously.

I can’t smell any other scents, Chan growled, his gut twisting with unease. Something didn’t feel right. His nose was sharp—too sharp—and he knew this land like the back of his paw. There had never been a deer this far into their territory, much less one lying dead.

Stay alert, Chan warned, his voice tightening as a sense of danger gnawed at him.

Changbin nuzzled his snout into Chan’s side in silent understanding before scanning the perimeter, his tail flicking nervously.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Changbin growled quietly.

“I know. Neither do I,” Chan agreed, taking a few cautious steps away from the deer’s body. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

It was then that a twig snapped nearby. Chan’s reflexes were lightning fast. He growled, stepping in front of Changbin, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever threat was coming.

It’s just me, hyung. Can’t you smell me? LeeKnow emerged from the bushes, laughing softly, clearly unaware of how close he had come to putting himself in danger.

LeeKnow! Don’t do that! Chan’s voice was a low, furious growl. Oh my God, you almost got yourself killed! He snapped, heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, LeeKnow quickly apologized, his voice sheepish, but his curiosity got the better of him. I thought you could hear me... I was pretty loud. What’s going on here? Wait—is that a deer? His eyes widened in disbelief.

Yeah, exactly, Chan muttered, still shaken. That’s why we’re on high alert. But I didn’t smell you. In fact… I don’t smell anything. His voice trailed off in confusion, his eyes narrowing as his senses felt off, almost muted. What was going on with his ability to smell?

LeeKnow’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, sniffing the air. Hyung… I don’t have a good feeling about this.

Okay, let’s just go back to the territory line, Chan replied, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness and unease. Where’s Y/N? I don’t feel good having her this far out. His thoughts were racing. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this strange scene.

She’s picking strawberries by the wild gardens… LeeKnow replied.

Okay, go get her and—

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a sweet, unfamiliar scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, heavy and thick, like something dangerous. Chan’s heart began to race in his chest, his head spinning. What is that?

I don’t feel well, Changbin groaned, rubbing his nose with his paw. The world around them seemed to tilt, and Chan’s body started to feel sluggish, his legs unsteady.

His senses began to dull, and the world around him seemed to blur.

I can’t feel my legs… LeeKnow’s voice was panicked. His body trembled as he tried to move, but his limbs felt frozen.

Shit… It’s a trap, Chan realized too late, his stomach dropping. The sweet scent—the drugging, overpowering smell—it wasn’t just a random scent. It was a weapon.

Changbin! LeeKnow! Can you hear me?! Chan’s voice cracked with fear, the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream as he tried to move. His paws were heavy, his vision swimming. He had heard about this—heard the older Ummas in the village speak in hushed voices about poison or sedative gases. But never had he expected it to happen to them.

Changbin?! LeeKnow?! he cried out, his voice desperate, but there was no response. The two of them were collapsing, just as he was.

Chan felt his body buckle beneath him, his strength draining away as the toxin infiltrated his bloodstream. The world around him slowed to a crawl. His vision blurred, his eyes fluttering. The last thing he saw was a figure—human, but somehow otherworldly—moving toward him.

The figure knelt beside him, their face twisted into a mocking smirk. “Oh, the mighty alpha… can’t even protect his luna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain.

Luna. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She was out there, alone, and he couldn’t do anything.

Chan’s vision faded completely as the darkness claimed him. His body went limp, unconscious, the last coherent thought in his mind that Y/N was in danger.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“And so when we woke up, we searched for you everywhere,” Chan’s voice cracked as he spoke, his chest tightening with the weight of the memories. “Through the forest, the waterfall, everywhere we could think of, but your scent was so faint. The rogues—” he stopped, his breath shaky. “The rogues didn’t have any scent. We searched all day, non-stop, until we had no choice but to come back. The betas and omegas were freaking out. We were exhausted and starving.”

Chan’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice breaking. “I never stopped looking for you, Y/N. You have to believe me. I never gave up. I thought about you every second, every day... and I couldn’t stop searching for you.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed golden, a flash of anger and hurt in her gaze. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the pain she had carried all this time surfacing. She had thought they weren’t looking for her, that they had abandoned her. The rogues had filled her head with lies, convincing her that no one was coming for her. But now, hearing Chan’s words, everything she had believed was shattering.

“So… so they set you guys up?” Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling as she looked up at the alpha sitting across from her. Chan was slouched on the couch, his sweatpants and black vest a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” Chan said softly, his voice low with suppressed anger. “They did. And they had been planning on taking you.” He clenched his fists, the memory of the betrayal still raw. “When I found them—” he stopped, the words heavy on his tongue.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You... you killed them?” She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of relief and awe. For a moment, she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“Yes.” Chan nodded grimly. “After you came back and... after seeing what they had done to you, I couldn’t let them live. I tracked them down with Mark and the hyungs. We found their den, and we killed them.” He exhaled sharply, the memory of the violence still fresh in his mind. “I couldn’t let them walk away after what they did to you... not after what they did to us.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling as the tears began to fall. The enormity of what Chan had done for her hit her like a ton of bricks. He had gone through so much, fought so hard—for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her heart. She had been so focused on her own pain, on her own suffering, that she hadn’t once thought about what he had gone through. What he had endured.

“Channie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, the words barely leaving her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with regret.

Chan’s gaze softened. His hands trembled as he reached out toward her, but he hesitated, unsure if she would want him to touch her. “Please... don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Never apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster. “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was awful to you. I thought you didn’t care. I thought you gave up on finding me, and... I just... I was in so much pain. I still am. I’m angry at the world, Channie. But I hope you can forgive me for everything.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t need you to forgive me,” Chan said softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. “I understand, my love. I know you were in a state... a state no one should have to endure. I don’t blame you. Not at all. I should’ve been there for you, even when you pushed me away. I should’ve stayed by your side.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes darkened with the guilt of not being able to protect her. “I just... I can’t see you in pain anymore. I want to help you heal.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she reached her hand out toward him. Chan looked at her, surprised, but then slowly he took her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, it was like electricity running through their veins. They were connected—alpha and omega—and this simple act of holding hands was enough to send a wave of relief through both of them.

“I don’t think you need to apologize either, Channie,” Y/N said, her voice more stable now, though still laced with sadness. “I think we both went through mentally and physically draining situations. I just... I can’t help but ask the Moon Goddess why. But I know she will have answers. I want to move forward. I want to put this behind us.” She paused, her chest tightening with emotion as she struggled to speak through her sobs. “I want to be a part of the pack again. I want to be normal.”

Chan pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her as he held her close. He hoped she would let him, he hoped she would feel the comfort in his embrace. “I understand, my love. I ask the Moon Goddess every day why... but all I want is for you to heal. To feel better. I don’t want you to rush into anything, though. It gets overwhelming, but I’m right here. I promise.” He kissed her temple gently, letting the warmth of his affection seep into her.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry about losing the pup, Channie.” She choked on her sobs, her words trembling with grief. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her from it all, but they just... they kept going.”

Chan’s heart shattered hearing her cry like this. He gently cupped both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. His voice was firm and full of love. “Baby, I will never blame you for that. Do you hear me? Never. It was not your fault. I know it hurts, but I pray you’ll understand that.”

Y/N’s heart was breaking, but she nodded, pressing closer to him. “I just... I just know it’ll be heavy to get past. I don’t think I’ll love another pup the way I loved her. She was our first…” She trailed off, her voice lost in the depth of her sorrow.

Chan held her tighter, his heart aching for her. “Time will heal us, my love. Everything will get better. I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N wiped the tears from his face as she pulled back slightly, her scent calming, though still tinged with sadness. She gave him a small, tender smile. “Thank you... for being here. For loving me through all of this.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes filled with devotion and hope for the future. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. No matter what.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan finally felt like he could breathe again. After everything they’d been through, after the pain, the misunderstandings, and the distance—he had finally reconnected with his luna. They had talked it all out, and in that moment, something inside him shifted. The weight he’d carried for so long—worry, guilt, fear—began to lift. He no longer feared that she might hate him, or that the rift between them would be impossible to mend.

He could finally sleep tonight, he thought, with peace in his heart.

His hand moved gently to trace circles on her arm, the motion soothing both of them. He didn’t know how long they’d been lying there, but it felt like time had slowed, like nothing else existed in the world but the quiet warmth of her presence.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart pounded in his chest, the words carrying everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, her expression mirroring his. “I love you too, my love.” Her voice was steady, but there was a catch in it—a vulnerability that made Chan’s chest tighten with affection.

And then, in that quiet, intimate space between them, Chan’s eyes welled up with tears.

All the anger, the frustration, the guilt, and the sadness that had consumed him for so long seemed to melt away in a single moment. With Y/N’s love, with her forgiveness, all the heavy emotions that had weighed down on him for so long evaporated.

She was back in his arms—officially—and nothing in the world could have felt more right.

Chan felt her warmth against him, her heartbeat steady and calm, and he realized with a deep breath that he would do whatever it took to help her grieve, to help her heal. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He wasn’t going to lose her again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: i think its time to end this mini series guysss >_<

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

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@0325tiny @pixie0627 @emmxxsworld

[chrissturnsw1fe]

SWEETDREAMS

Chris Sturniolo

Warning: none just swearing and pure fluff

Summary: Chris and been a dick to you all day until you finally snap at him and he comes back later to apologise.

Chris had been in a mood since this morning he’s been dry and making you feel like shit all day. You guys have been together for a couple of months now and never had an argument. He’s currently out filming a car video with Nick and Matt hopefully he comes back in a better mood.

He’s been gone around an hour so you decided to message him to just see when he was going to be back home.

* message *

Do you know what time you’ll be home around?

Idk.

okay baby see you soon ❤️

yh 👍🏼

* end of message *

“I wonder what’s pissing him off” you speak to yourself. you wanted to pass time so you decide to clean up and do the dishes and have a shower , once your changed in your pjs you walk down the stairs and hear the front door open to see a very grumpy looking Chris walk in.

“hey baby” you smile at him

He ignores you and walks over to the fridge , wow that was rude you thought to yourself. You walk over to him

“Are you okay you seem angry about something”

“Omg can you get off my dick” he replied aggressively

You was so confused on why he was being like this it was starting to get on your nerves a lot. You was reminding yourself over and over again to not get angry.

“Gosh what’s a matter with you grumpy pants”

You let out a sarcastic comment he should know your joking until his flips on you out of no where,

“God just fuck off you annoying little bitch your always here like just go away and get out of my face”

That drew the line for you and you snapped back,

“You know what Chris I’ve done nothing but help you I clean the house for you because your lazy ass doesn’t. Yeah you go out and film with your brothers of course I’m gonna be clingy I barely see you anymore so fuck you too bro”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes but refuse to let me drop.

“Bro are you for real you seriously just called me bro”

“Yes I did now you take that Pepsi and shove it straight up your fucking ass see if that knocks some sense into you , you rude bitch boy”

You storm upstairs into the bedroom and slam the door shut and just start crying you don’t know what to do, one part of you feels bad , you’ve never snapped at Chris like that before, no you decided your gonna wait for him to apologise.

You go in the shower to release some stress off your back , you brush your teeth and get into your pjs to put a movie on and hopefully Chris would’ve decided to say sorry by then.

It’s been about 2 hours since the argument, you feel your eyes drifting off to sleep you check the time on your phone, it’s 11:32pm, you switched the tv off and nodded away to sleep.

Time skip (Chris’ pov)

I felt so bad for snapping at y/n like that I shouldn’t have said what I did, I check my phone and it’s 2am I choose to have a shower and do the the right thing.

After my shower I walk into the bedroom and see y/n sleeping, I walk over and get into bed,

“Hey baby you up”

She hums in the sleep

“I’m really sorry you was right I promise I’ll be better and I was just having a bad day I didn’t mean to snap at you the way I did please forgive me”

“It’s okay we all have bad days I understand just don’t take them out on me you know you can talk to me about it” she smiles at me

“I will thank you for always being here for me and also never call me bro again I did not like that” I laugh a little

She giggles at me “I won’t but let’s talk in the morning I’m tired”

I nod at her and bring her into my chest

“I love you”

“I love you more”

I smile and kiss her forehead as she drifts back off to sleep. Wow it feels like a weight has been taken off my back.

“Sweet dreams”

A/n: I hope you liked this it was my first fluff I’m open to any requests if you want some dm me.

[accio-victuuri]

on a normal day, i wouldn’t think too much about wyb reposting something work related. and considering it is a serious topic and the event is ongoing, it makes sense that he would talk about it on his weibo account. but the caption, i’m sorry but my eyes are sensitive right now to this word (我们). even if i know, logically, that it can be used on the daily and honestly fits with the message of the video and campaign. that’s why i’m a clown. lol.

do you see it used twice? 我们 wo men. tho the caption is more of : Let us take responsibility and use our actions and wisdom to jointly create a better future for our home planet.

which again, a message that makes sense for this climate change video but some are also pointing out that the first time he used the word, it makes sense. but to use it twice is kinda excessive. also considering bobo reposted this 11/12 on release day adds to the cpn. that’s because the actual start of the event was 11/11, yibo-official even shared about it that day too. so why is bobo’s a day later? i’m pretty sure he takes his role as an ambassador to this and the issue itself, but the timing is interesting. some are even doing some next level kadian with the time and date this was posted. 11+12 = 23 ( love zhan ) 19+14 = 33 ( zhan zhan ).

to top it all off, the caption has 33 characters.

there was also a part in the caption that said use our actions and wisdom which he interchanged from the original message : “As young people in the new era, let us make our voices heard on the stage of COP29, take our responsibilities, use wisdom and actions to bear fruit in practice, and jointly create a better future for our home” why tho? because that will make it xz.

source

[romancecroc]

Lucanis Romance (Pt. 2)

This is an alternative take on finishing his companion quest (confronting Illario after saving Catharina). In this version, the whole "I made paella and your favorite" drink did not happen.

Things have felt different between them. Especially after Spite somehow dragged Rook into Lucanis’s subconscious and helped them align on a goal.

Nothing had really happened before that. Just the occasional lingering glances. Hands brushing against each when nobody could see. Overprotectiveness during battles.

But with all that was going on, it was almost impossible to find quiet moments. To reflect. Or to talk. 

And with all her confidence, Rook didn’t dare bring the topic up again. Nor make a move. 

But she felt closer to him. Especially after witnessing all his inner troubles, his regrets. 

But was that enough? How would you name this? Having feelings for someone, feeling close to them and yet… nothing happening?

What exactly did I want to happen?

The thought caught Rook off guard.

Guilt was starting to build up. They never said they were in a relationship after all. Lucanis didn’t owe her anything. 

But at the same time… there was a sense of frustration?

“Rook! Are you listening?” Teia said, waving her hands.

“Ah.” Rook responded, finally snapping out of it.

She was in Trevisio. They were getting ready to save Catharina and set Illario straight.

Teia and Viago were preparing, but Lucanis was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently he would join in later.

“Don’t worry, Lucanis knows the plan. He’ll join you at the mansion. Are you ready to go?” Teia asked again, patting Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, sorry. We will get Catharina out of the mansion and then we’ll confront Ilario at the gathering.” Rook said, mostly to summarize it for herself.

“What are you going to do with Ilario when all of this is over?”

Teia and Viago chuckled, grabbing their daggers and facing the exit.

“I’m sure our first talon will know what to do.”

And with that, they both vanished.

—

It didn’t take long to sneak through the mansion. The team had initially agreed to only send out Rook and Lucanis - the less attention they attract the better.

But where was he?

Rook noticed one of the hallways having more guards than the others. With a dagger in hand and magic in another, she swiftly took care of them within seconds.

Until she felt a presence behind her. 

Instinctively, she elbowed them in the stomach, using the opportunity to turn around and push them against the floor. Her mouth dropped when she was finally hovered above him, her knees digging into his arms, locking him in position.

“Not a bad move, Rook.” Lucanis said, coughing between his words.

“Are you insane? I could have killed you!” Rock angrily whispered, immediately putting her dagger away.

“Please, Rook. I let you tackle me. Why miss out on an opportunity to get overpowered by a beautiful woman? ” he answered, a chuckle between the coughs.

It should have made her happy. The small flirts between them.

But instead, it just reminded her about her own frustrations. The impatient feeling, the guilt.

Without responding, she got up and offered him a hand. Pulling him up.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, concerned. He had expected a matching response.

“We should focus on the mission.” Rook responded, perhaps a little colder than she intended.

“Where do you think your grandmother is? I already checked the east wing, but no luck so far.”

It felt like he was catching on, but the mission’s urgency kept him from investigating further. Instead he started leading the way, casually sharing childhood memories whenever he saw something familiar. 

He hasn’t been home for so long - and yet she couldn’t bring herself to fully enjoy his stories. Once Catharina had been saved and Ilario confronted, Rook would return to the Lighthouse and spend some time alone in her room. Clear her head.

That sounded like a good plan at least.

“She must be here.” Lucanis said, stopping in front of a door not too far from his childhood room. 

Rook motioned to get ready, just in case.

Once the door opened, a cane started swinging around aggressively - until Lucanis grabbed it.

“My grandson!” Catharina gasped in disbelief.

Rook stepped away for a bit, not wishing to interrupt their reunion.

“You are mad as us. Why?!” Rook suddenly heard in her head.

Spite??

“Answer! It is…. distracting him!” Spite responded telepathically.

Rook wasn’t sure how Spite was talking to her. Based on how Lucanis was acting, he didn’t seem to be aware of it either.

I’m not mad. I’m just trying to focus.

“Hurt. Longing. Is it loneliness? No. It smells like… disappointment!” Spite continued on.

The last thing Rook wanted was a conversation about her feelings. With Spite. She imagined a mental block around her head - it must have worked because the last thing she heard was a disapproving growl from Spite. And then it was quiet again.

“Thank you, Rook! For returning my grandson.” Catharina said gratefully, looking over to Rook.

“He did half of the work. We should really bring you somewhere safe.” Rook quickly responded, rejoining them.

“Nonsense. Now go and stop Ilario, I won’t be far behind.” Catharina responded, waving her cane around again.

The expression Lucanis made, said enough  - there was no way to convince Catharina to change her mind..

—

“You must feel relieved having your grandmother back. Any plans for Ilario?” Rook asked, as they were approaching the gathering.

“I don’t know. But one way or another, he needs to pay.” Lucanis said, approaching the giant door.

One could hear Ilarios' speech from the outside. Monologues about how he was grieving Catharina’s death. How Lucanis was a shame to the family and the crows due to becoming an abomination.

And that he was taking the title of the first talon for himself.

“Whatever happens, I’m with you.” Rook said, preparing herself for battle.

“I know. Let’s finish this.”

And with that, the door was kicked open.

Everything happened so fast.

Ilario didn’t hesitate to attack Lucanis on sight, backed by venatori.

The crows, unsure who to believe, were fumbling around.

But like many other fights, this one was about to end quite fast.

“They will never accept you. You’re an abomination!” Ilarios screamed at Lucanis, almost like a child who wasn’t picked for a group activity. Most of his venatory allies had fallen by now.

“Are you sure you’re not stuck with a demon yourself, Ilario? Even Spite sounds saner than you do right now.” Rook said loudly, currently finishing off remaining venetario on the opposite side of the hall.

Embarrassment was plastered on Ilarios face. The sheer audacity of being compared to a demon. And despite having little backup left, he used whatever remaining blood magic he had to teleport himself past the crows.

“You will pay for this insult!” Illario yelled, appearing in front of Rook with a dagger in hand. Ready to stab her in the chest.

Growing up with the shadow dragons taught her well - especially on how to deal with crazy individuals that were about to stab you. There were different ways to make them stop,  even for a few seconds. They just need to believe they won. 

So Rook didn’t defend herself. Didn’t use any magic spells.

Instead she positioned herself in a way, so that the dagger would end up between her armpits. Her clothes were already torn at a few places, covered in blood. It would be hard to tell whether she was really hit or not. And a delusional blood mage wouldn’t know the difference either.

To dramatize the moment, Rook let out a terrible cry that melted together with Ilario’s victory laugh.

And multiple people shouting in the background?

Rook couldn’t focus too much on it, as she was busy taking a few steps back. Holding the dagger close, while she fell on her knees. And then to her sides, closing her eyes.

“Let this be a lesson for anybody who insults Ilario-”

The sound of something smashing against the wall echoed across the hall. Followed by a demonic snarl.

“They. touched. Rook! They die!” 

That must be Spite.

Oh…

Rook realized that she never discussed her cinematic move with the others. Neve was used to it. She had witnessed it too many times during their missions.

She hated it. But she couldn’t deny how it made enemies feel overconfident. Prone to making mistakes. Better to catch off guard.

But not something to do with unaware participants.

When Rook carefully opened her eyes, another body flew against a wall. Ilario was still standing next to her, looking in another direction. His entire body tensed up in shock. Apparently Lucanis/Spite had been brutally throwing any Venatory standing in their way against the stone walls.

“Cousin, you need to calm down. They are already dead!” Teia yelled at Lucanis, but Viago held her back.

The final stand was Lucanis/Spite finally reaching Ilario, grabbing him by the throat and hurling him across the hall. The impact was strong enough to make Ilario break a few pieces of furniture in the process.

“Not. Enough. He needs to… suffer!” Lucanis and Spite shouted, as if they’d merged.

He quickly kneeled next to Rook and despite his pupils not being visible, his narrowed eyebrows showed enough concern.

“I’m fine.” Rook whispered, already feeling bad for the entire thing.

“No! He hurt you. He hurt us!” Lucanis/Spite responded back, hissing.

He was going to kill them all. If he hadn’t done so already.

“I think you already punished them well enough. Here, look.” Rook said, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out.

“See? No blood. Your cousin just has a terrible aim. He thought he won and that made him arrogant, distancing himself from his allies.” Rook explained, though she wasn’t sure how much lucanis/spite caught in their frenzied state.

“No… blood.” Lucanis/Spite whispered back.

During all this, Viago and Teia used the moment to tie Ilario down. All the other venatori were dead due to… impactful wall slammings. 

“You’re disgraceful, all of you. It’s not enough he’s an abomination, but he also kneels?! How the crows have fallen!” Ilario continued to shout, but his defeat was imminent. 

Rook slowly lifted herself off the ground, kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about this little… stunt I use from time to time. Neve hates it too. I won’t do it again and-”

Lucanis pulled Rook against him, wrapped his arms around her as the purple glow in his eyes started fading away.  Burying his face against her neck.

“Never again.” he growled. 

Rook squeezed his arm as a confirmation. The embrace ended with him taking her hand and raising Rook back to her feet with him.

All the yelling subsided when Catharina finally entered the halls. Even Ilario finally closed his mouth.

Rook didn’t dare speak. As the situation calmed down, Teia and Viago complimented her on the dramatic stunt. Thanked her for all the help she’s given.

Rook politely nodded. She could feel Lucanis staring at her. Avoiding any instances of aggravating him further would be wise.

That, until Catharina announced him as the first talon. At this point, he was swarmed by crows. People who wanted to start building connections. Others who just wanted to share a celebratory drink.

Getting through the crowd would be impossible.

“I’m going home. Could you tell Lucanis when you catch him? I think I have worried him enough for one day.” Rook said to Viago.

He nodded and then sheepishly smiled at Rook. 

“What? What is it?” Rook asked, confused.

“Take care of my cousin, Rook. Enjoy your night.” he responded, slapping her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Rook shrugged and started heading towards the Eluvian. She looked back once more and managed to make eye contact with Lucanis. With hand motions, she quickly pointed towards the Eluvian and then waved goodbye. Before he could respond, Lucanis was swarmed by another wave of crows.

—

When Rook made it to her room, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed. What a day it was.

But these clothes had to go. 

She quickly slipped out of the blood soaked fabric that was already torn in a few places. Doesn’t look like it can be repaired.

She left it on the floor and moved to the baths. It was so late at night, she doubted anybody was going to notice.

After a good cleanup, a few bruises became visible. Nothing fatal. But some were going to stick around for a while. Especially the deep purple ones. 

Too lazy to dress up, Rook grabbed a robe and headed back to her bedroom. But she was hungry. There was no time to eat during the ordeal. Maybe the kitchen had something? Even just a snack.

She quietly snuck her way into the kitchen. Perhaps she could gather a few cookies and eat them in bed! Nobody would notice. It would be her little secret. It was also doubtful that Lucanis would already be back from his celebration.

“Rook.”

She froze. Her hand was so close to grabbing a cookie.

“Oh! You’re back already?” she responded, turning around. Caught in the act.

Lucanis was sitting on the couch. A cup in his hand, presumingly coffee.

“Yes.” he responded.

“I was actually going to come visit you in your room. After I had finished my drink.” he added.

“Visit me so late at night? Whatever for?” Rook responded as a joke.

But he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead Lucanis took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re wearing a robe.”

Suddenly Rook started feeling very shy. 

“Ah, yes. I was covered in blood and wanted to check for bruises. Nothing bad, luckily.”

There was tension. And she wasn’t sure in which direction it was going to go.

The sound of her heartbeat made it difficult to focus.

“I… should go. Get out of this bathrobe.” she added and slowly took a step back.

“A good idea.” he said, taking the last sip. And then placing the cup back on the table.

“You can then show me the bruises.” 

It took a moment for her to register what he said.

That, until he stood up and started walking towards her. Rook took another step backwards, only to find herself clashing against the kitchen table behind her.

It was too late now. Any means of escape were blocked. Lucanis stood in front of her, resting his hands on both sides - pinning Rock against the table.

“I thought you were dead.” he finally said.

Lucanis didn’t shy away from eye contact. Rook looked down instead, ashamed. At least until he gently lifted her chin.

“I was going to kill them all.”

His hand slowly moved to her cheek, caressing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” she whispered back.

“You didn’t think I would react?” Help me understand, Rook.”

“No! It’s just… I didn’t think you would react like that. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t sure where I stood with you, so I decided to focus on the mission and do my thing.” 

“And has today cleared your doubts?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her lips.

She didn’t respond. And somehow she already felt breathless.

“Mierda.”

His lips clashed against hers. It didn’t take long for Rook’s to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands grabbing onto him. Lucanis lifting Rook and placing her on the kitchen table, keeping her close.

It felt needy. Urgent. Especially when his tongue was starting to dance with hers, moaning into her mouth. 

He grabbed onto her waist, pressing himself against her. From all the movement, Rook’s bathrobe was starting to slip and any exposed shoulders were bitten, licked or kissed. 

What they didn’t realize was all the noise. Every moment caused a plate to fall. Cutlery clashing against other metallic objects. 

They finally froze when somebody yelled “What is going on down there?!”

After that, silence. Followed by quiet chuckles between them.

“I know it’s not honorable, but we could pin it on Manfred.” Rook suggested, fixing her robe.

“Hmm… No, I’ll tell them the truth.” Lucanis smirked, kissing Rook on the forehead and giving her space again. 

“And what is that? Sorry, I was fooling around in the kitchen?” Rook asked.

“Fooling around is a temporary notion. I intend to keep you for a long time.”

Lucanis smirked again, witnessing Rook blushing. 

“Now go rest. I’m still planning on inspecting your bruises sometime soon.”

Before Rook could respond, Lucanis had returned to his room. 

Falling asleep would be difficult after such a promise.

[firstkanaphans]

RE your tags on the bromance thing - I think I allowed myself to get a little panicky earlier when seeing a few people talk about there potentially being more, and whilst there are a few points made that I can understand, I do feel like the amount of worry I’m seeing it maybe a little preemptive?

Like, I do agree that it feels stupid to put TayNew in a bromance series; if they wanted two actors that are close & have worked together before, why not Tay and Off or New and Gun or something? BUT I did see that Tay and New actually wanted to do a bromance series together, so there’s part of me thinking that this was THEIR choice to do this series and not give it to some other actors. (And let’s be fair, I don’t think there’s anyone else who could have made this show so warm, angsty, and lovely.)

I feel like GMMTV has really been embracing their BLs a bit more if I’m honest, and sure, they do queer baiting in their non-queer shows, but who doesn’t? You can watch anything on Netflix or whatever and find ‘bromances’ that are severe queer baiting.

I kinda feel like sometimes people pile on GMMTV a bit much, all because they’re kinda like the biggest company in the drama community that does decent queer dramas? I don’t know if that’s just me being blind to their flaws, but I sometimes think they get a little more hate than other production companies and not always deservedly? (I mean I know they aren’t perfect and I call out their bullshit myself, but I feel like sometimes it’s ‘cool’ to hate on them?)

Sorry if none of this makes sense and I’m rambling - it’s almost 2am and I really need to sleep 🤣

In my opinion, these claims that GMMTV is going to pivot to bromances because they’re less gay and more profitable are absolutely baseless. Bromances are not new to GMMTV. They’re not even new to TayNew as I believe I’m Tee, Me Too was a bromance as well. Like you said, P’Dome explicitly stated that TayNew wanted to film a show together that was not a BL. Should they not be able to? And weren’t these same people complaining just days ago that CPs are never allowed to act outside of their CP? Now, they’re mad when they do.

What people are losing their marbles over is literally just the cast and crew having a good time with the fans. Did they play into the shipping aspect both onscreen and off? Of course they did! What writer worth their salt would have passed up such a perfect opportunity? But to me, it didn’t feel malicious. It felt like P’Dome was just having fun and giving Polcas a little nod. I almost feel like it would have been more strange if he hadn’t.

People certainly don’t have to like bromances, but it’s like We Are all over again where people were saying its very existence was indicative of the fall of the genre as we know it. And that’s just utterly ridiculous. This isn’t a queer story where the queerness was censored. In fact, there were explicit queer themes throughout. This is just a platonic love story and a lot of people who may not be interested in romantic relationships have found immense value in that.

Like I said in my tags, P’Aof is the Director of Content Production at GMMTV, meaning he is literally the one in charge of what content is being produced, and I’m choosing to trust the gay Thai man who has dedicated his career to this. He has such a passion for telling queer stories. Why would he stop now?

But like you said, it’s become hip to hate on GMMTV. And look, I don’t like corporations either, but let’s not pretend like GMMTV isn’t really fucking gay. Because they are. This is not a company that has ever shied away from explicitly queer content and is actually making more of it than ever before, so I’m not going to fault them for adding a few shows for the straights too. And if they have to make het stuff, I would much rather sit through a bromance than anything else.

I mean Jesus Christ. Peaceful Property was fun. I had fun. And it was also really good—easily my favorite offering from GMMTV all year—so if they want to make a hundred more bromances just like this, I’m certainly not going to complain about it. Some people just don’t want to enjoy anything.

(And go to sleep, Pip! It’s late 😂)

[checkeredflagggs]

White Dog Cafe

pairing: max verstappen x pet cafe!owner

summary: while daniel forgets plans made with max, max has a meet-cute

a/n1: had this idea while playing a solitaire game and had it immediately plotted out 🥰. Sorry it took away to actually get it to you though… November started out rough…

Private Messages

white_dog_cafe

liked by user, yourbff, maxverstappen1, user and 97,455 others

white_dog_cafe: officially open for business!

view all comments

user9: can’t wait to visit!

user10: YEEEESSSSS!!!!

user11: omg dream job acquired!

↳white_dog_cafe: if you’re in the area, feel free to stop in and apply! We still have a couple of openings

↳user11: literally running to you now!

yourbff: you got this!! ITS GONNA BE AWESOME!

↳yourusername: thank you babe

user12: Ariana (max verstappen) what are you doing here???

↳user13: the crossover i didn’t know i needed but am getting anyway!

↳user14: right? Like surprise of the century

↳user13: I guess it makes sense? They’re in the same area I guess and we all know max likes his cats…

↳user14: true! But still not something i expected

Twitter

user1: seriously? Like this could be anyone…

↳user2: apparently we get desperate for information and or gossip this deep into summer break

↳user1: I can’t believe anyone would be this desperate

user3: look at that rain though…

user4: where on earth is he?

↳user5: somewhere in Europe?

↳user6: what?

↳user5: apparently he and Daniel are spending part of the break exploring Europe!

↳user6: Maxiel forever!

user7: I saw him!

↳user8: seriously??? Spill!

↳user7: I was sitting in a local library window seat and so wasn’t the closest to him but he kept checking his phone and texting someone. When the rain started, he ducked into the building next to him

↳user8: i wonder who he was texting

↳user7: I’d guess Daniel if they were together

Private Messages

white_dog_cafe

liked by user, maxverstappen1, yourbff, user, and 223,469 others

tagged: localshelter1, localshelter2

white_dog_cafe: come on down! We’re teaming up with localshelter1 and localshelter2 for an adoption day! All adoption fees will be waived and part of the proceeds from the sales from the cafe itself will go back to the shelters!

view all comments

user15: oh my god…

↳user16: I love everything about this!

↳user17: the pet themed cupcakes…

↳user16: what are the stuffed animals for?

↳white_dog_cafe: we also partnered with a local toy store — each stuff animal has a matching live animal up for adoption! Something small for the little kids to hold onto while their new animals get used to their new homes

↳user16: omg that’s so thoughtful and perfect

user18: leo! Did he actually get adopted?

↳user19: I was there! Yes he did! Some guy came in and Leo made a direct run right to him. The owner laughed and said something like “looks like you’ve been adopted”

↳user18: 😍😍

↳user19: no joke it was like a romcom set up, the smile on this guys face…

localshelter1: a big success today! We currently have no occupants!

↳localshelter2: neither do we! Thanks to white_dog_cafe, for the first time in 5 years we are EMPTY!

↳white_dog_cafe: it was an honor to work with you! Same time next year?

��localshelter2: you know it!!

user20: that’s great news!

↳user21: it was such a lovely event! I’m glad I got the chance to go!

↳user22: did you adopt?

↳user21: I did! A lovely little orange cat 💜

Twitter

user23: god his thighs…

↳user24: I know!!

user24: free titties? Just hanging out? For free???

↳user25: bite bite bite

user26: glad to see he’s relaxing!

↳user27: yes!

user28: is that a girl??? In the second photo???

↳user29: ok grandma let’s get you back to bed

↳user30: no no no let’s let her cook

mvupdates

liked by user, user, user, and 822,455 others

mvupdates: are our eyes deceiving us or does max have a new cat? Max was on stream last night and when his camera slipped, it caught a glimpse of a cat! Eagle eye viewers say that it doesn’t match pictures of Jimmy or Sassy

view all comments

user31: that is definitely a grey cat! No jimmy or sassy!

↳user32: max so bored during the off season that he resorts to getting a new cat

↳user33: he’s not the only one tbh…

user34: i swear to god i heard max call the cat leo

↳user35: leo??? Like Charles’ leo?

↳user36: Jesus we need a race again…he’s not gonna name his cat Leo

↳user34: I know what I heard!!

user19: wait a minute??

↳user19: i KNOW that cat

Twitter

user28: MAX VERSTAPPEN!! I told you all there was a girl by his side!!

↳user29: oh god not again

↳user30: no no no she has a point

user37: oh my god???

↳user38: this was NOT on my bingo card for this year

↳user37: I don’t think it was on anyone’s…

user39: and suddenly the universe screamed out in agony…THAT SHOULD BE ME

↳user40: no but for real??

↳user41: HE WAS AN OPTION???

↳user42: I guess for like 2 minutes…😭😭😭

user43: ok but when did he and k*lly break up?

↳user44: well she hasn’t been seen since Miami this year…

↳user44: and that was a CHILLY 🥶 interaction, I’d guess it happened around then if not before

user46: stargazing on the highway tonight!

↳user48: big mood

↳user49: same! Sleepover party?

↳user46: I’ll bring the drinks

Private Messages

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, user, and 125,222 others

yourusername: Visiting old friends and making new ones!

view all comments

user50: oh my god is that Leo?

↳yourusername: it is! Turns out he’s a little rascal

↳user50: he’s a cutie tho!

↳yourusername: ridiculously cute…and he knows it 😂🙄🥰

↳user50: they always do

user51: are those…are those the verstappen cats? Jimmy and Sassy?

↳user52: who?? What are you talking about?

↳user51: formula 1’s max verstappen! He’s got 2 cats that look exactly like those two cats in the third picture

↳user52: and those cats would be in a post from the owner of a pet cafe???

user19: I’ve connected the dots

↳user53: you’ve connected the dots?? What are you talking about?

↳user19: yourusername is dating max verstappen! He’s been rumored to be in a new relationship and he was definitely the man I saw adopt leo at white_dog_cafe a couple of weeks ago! And look! He’s in the likes!

↳user19: I’ve connected the dots!

↳user53: you’ve connected shit

↳user19: IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS

yourbff: cats are your kryptonite aren’t they

↳yourusername: noooo…

↳yourbff: 🧐🧐🧐

↳yourusername: but they’re so cute!!

↳yourbff: sure you’re not talking about their owner instead??

this comment was deleted

Private Messages

yourusername has posted 2 stories

[such a good passenger! | COTA 😍😍]

user19 replied IS THAT A VERSTAPPEN CAT?!?

maxverstappen1 replied glad to see you’re on your way. Cats doing ok?

↳yourusername yes yes yes we’re all doing fine

↳maxverstappen1 I just want this to go well

↳yourusername it’s gonna be fine

yourbff replied get it girl!!

↳yourusername omg why am I friends with you again

↳yourbff cause I know too many secrets

↳yourusername for real 🙄

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff, charles_leclerc, and 923,123 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: COTA you were amazing. Max that was…simply lovely ☺️

view all comments

user19: I KNEW IT!

↳user53: ok grandma let’s get you to bed

↳user19: but I was right!!!

↳user53: literally no one cares anymore

danielricciardo: great entrance for your first race!

↳yourusername: thank you! Of course it was nothing compared to yours in ‘22

↳danielricciardo: well not everyone can be me!

↳user54: oh god i can just tell their friendship is gonna be so good!!

charles_leclerc: so great to meet you and your cat leo ☺️

↳yourusername: it was nice to meet you too!

↳maxverstappen1: Don’t even.

↳yourusername: but Leo is actually max’s!

↳maxverstappen1: liefje

↳charles_leclerc: OH??? 🤭🤭🤭

↳maxverstappen1: I am going to hunt you down in Mexico and run you right off the track

↳charles_leclerc: you’d have to catch me first! 🤗

alex_albon: coming for our brand huh?

↳yourusername: we could never! But maybe a playdate?

↳alex_albon: absolutely!

user55: I can’t believe that one user was right…

↳user19: I TOLD YOU

↳user55: oh god she’s stalking me. Mom help I’m scared

↳user53: I’ve got her

maxverstappen1: it was simply lovely to have you here with me

↳yourusername: awww 🥰🥰🥰

↳yourusername: nowhere else i'd rather be

↳maxverstappen1: cute but definitely a lie

↳yourusername: oh yeah absolutely. I looked it up — there’s a cat cafe with a indoor waterfall like 20 minutes away

↳maxverstappen1: well what are we waiting for?

↳yourusername: just you, you slow poke

↳maxverstappen1: 🙄🙄

[4linos]

beyond the scrubs

han jisung x fem!reader

synopsis: new nurse jisung struggles with constant mistakes under a tough but skilled mentor, but their relationship evolves as they both learn the value of patience and support.

wc: 3578 ٩(ˊ���ˋ*)و ♡

a/n: i’m sorry but reader is kind of mean in this they make up for it though so don’t worry. :>

Jisung was a bundle of nerves as he stood in the break room, eyes wide as the schedule for his first day of orientation was posted on the board. It was his second day at the hospital, fresh out of nursing school, and everything was still new—still overwhelming. But today was different. Today, he’d be shadowing you.

He had heard a lot about you from the other nurses. You were experienced, patient, and always had a kind word for patients, even when the shifts got tough. And, he had to admit, you were pretty—really pretty, in fact. The way you carried yourself, confident yet compassionate, was something he admired from a distance. The idea of working under you for the next few weeks filled him with both excitement and an inexplicable sense of nervous energy.

You were helping a nurse and adjusting your stethoscope when he saw you in the corridor. Jisung couldn't help but believe you seemed like someone who had it all together because you were calm and professional. He didn't. But he was determined to make an impression on you today. "Hey, Jisung," you called him as soon as you saw him standing outside the nurse's station. His heart skipped a beat when you gave him a brief smile. "Ready for your first shift?"

"Y-yeah, absolutely!" A bit too enthusiastic, he stuttered. "I’m really excited to work with you." You gave him a clipboard after nodding and rearranging the papers in your palm. "All right, let's begin. You'll help with assessments today, and I'll show you the ropes." Jisung gave a hearty nod. He had to do his best, and he would. Especially with you, he didn't want to leave a negative impression.The beginning was fairly easy. You showed him how to take vitals, examine patient history, and do basic medical assessments.

Even though his hands were a little unsteady when he took his first set of vitals, Jisung made an effort to remain composed. He worked very hard to carry out your instructions precisely because he wanted to impress you. His hand slipped, though, and the cuff tightened too quickly just as he was ready to take a blood pressure measurement. When he fumbled with the stethoscope and knocked off the blood pressure cuff, the patient was shocked and sat up abruptly.

Shocked, Jisung blurted out, "I'm so sorry." "I didn’t mean to—" Your patience was already starting to run thin, so you let out a little sigh. "Jisung, you have to focus. This is what you've been trained for. Your nervousness shouldn't get in the way.” His face flushed slightly as he nodded. Although you weren't directly rude, your tone was very cutting. While he had only just begun, he was already making mistakes in front of you.

Later, in an effort to prove that he could manage the more challenging responsibilities, Jisung jumped in too soon when you were helping a patient move from their bed to a chair. He almost caused the patient to lose their balance since he miscalculated their level of mobility. "Jisung!" you yelled, protecting the patient from falling. Your tone was sharper than usual and you were obviously frustrated. "What were you thinking?”

Jisung's cheeks were burning. His words wouldn't come out, but he wanted to clarify that he was only trying to help. In his mind, he had failed miserably.

With a stutter, he said, "I—I just wanted to make sure everything was smooth," hardly meeting your eyes.

With a quick sigh, you squeezed the bridge of your nose. "You are not here to brag; you are here to learn. And ask for help if you're not sure."

Jisung nodded, his confidence fading away by the second. He thought he was an idiot. It always seemed to end badly when he tried to impress you. You left him in charge of seeing a few patients during your lunch break. Jisung made an effort to pay attention strictly to your instructions, but he was still having trouble. He accidentally knocked over a tray of medication when visiting a patient's room to see how they were doing, causing a mess all over the floor.

When you got there, he was crouching on the floor, frantically trying to collect the pills back into their bottles. "Are you kidding me?" you whispered to yourself. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you stopped yourself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying—he was just... constantly messing up. Jisung looked up at you and repeated, "I'm so sorry," in a tiny voice. "I’ll... I’ll clean it up."

Right now, you didn't have the energy to show kindness. You knelt beside him and helped him finish gathering up the pills, saying quietly, "It's okay." But you couldn't get rid of the gnawing annoyance. It was beginning to seem like his inexperience would make your day even more difficult, even though you knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The remainder of the shift followed the same pattern: Jisung made a lot of effort but was never successful. You were growing increasingly irritated as the day went on. Every mistake served as a reminder of his true lack of help, and you realized that you were becoming less helpful to him than you should have been.

You were worn out by the end of the day, and Jisung seemed to be as well. Even though he was still trying to keep himself composed, you could see how his shoulders drooped and his eyes averted from yours whenever you talked. "All right, Jisung. Before we wrap up, let's go over everything," you stated, sounding less patient than you had at the beginning of the day.

"okay," he mumbled.

You bit back a sigh. You didn’t want to be harsh, but it was getting harder not to be. When you looked at him, his gaze was downcast, almost as if he were apologizing for existing. You felt a pang of guilt, but your frustration was louder.

"You need to be more careful tomorrow," you said sharply. "And stop trying so hard to impress me. Just... focus on learning, alright?"

Jisung nodded quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, of course. I—I’ll do better."

As you both clocked out, the shift ended in an uncomfortable silence. Jisung seemed to shrink even more under the weight of his failures, and you couldn’t help but feel the distance growing between you two.

You hated that it felt this way, but you didn’t know how to fix it, either. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe not.

Either way, it felt like you both had a long road ahead.

—

The hospital was bustling, the air thick with the usual sense of urgency. Jisung was trying his hardest to keep up, but it seemed like every step he took just led him to another mistake. He could feel the weight of your eyes on him every time he did something wrong.

Today was no different. You had asked him to distribute medications to a few patients, a task that should’ve been routine, but his hands were shaking. He double-checked the names, he double-checked the meds—yet his nerves made everything feel ten times harder. He’d just graduated, and he was still struggling to get his footing. He didn’t want to mess up, especially not in front of you.

When Jisung reached a patient's room, he hesitated for a split second, but then quickly handed over the medication, thinking he had everything under control. The patient took the pill without hesitation, but there was something off about the whole exchange. The medication seemed to be for a completely different patient. He hadn’t double-checked properly. He’d gotten distracted.

By the time you came into the room, it was too late.

"Jisung!" you snapped, your tone piercing and brimming with anger. "What the hell are you doing? It's the wrong medication!” Eyes wide, he froze. The patient was confused, but you took action right away to clear the air. Damage had already been done when you hurried to get the medication and ensure the patient's safety.

"Why do I continue struggling with everything by myself?” With a loud voice that was a mixture of despair and rage, you went on, "Are you really going to keep making these simple mistakes?" "If you’re just going to mess everything up, maybe you should get out of the way and let someone else do the job properly."

He knew that the remarks were meant to shake him into action, yet they still pierced him. Still, Jisung felt small at the time. He was unable to look you in the eye. He muttered, "I—I'm sorry," but you were already turning to leave, your body seething in frustration.

The remainder of the day was a blur of mistakes, each one getting worse. Jisung had trouble focusing on anything. He was certain that he wasn't suited for this job and that he was failing at everything. He made a lot of attempts to gain your approval, but each time he failed, he made matters worse.

You assigned him a different nurse to shadow by the afternoon. When you said, "Go work with Felix today," you were abrupt. "Maybe you’ll do better with him."

Jisung's heart fell.

Although Felix was nice, it was obvious that you had had enough of him because he was now being removed from your supervision. Trying to hide his disappointment, he nodded and went with Felix to the next patient room.

Felix had just as much experience as you did, if not more. In contrast to your direct, no-nonsense approach, he was patient and kind to Jisung. With his constant smiles, jokes, and easy explanations, he helped Jisung feel a little more comfortable. Nevertheless, the feeling that everything was falling apart continued.

You were on your way to the break room when you heard a low voice talking to someone as you passed the staff lounge. "Are you okay?" Felix's tone was polite and warm as he asked. In an attempt to mask what was happening, Jisung sniffed. "Yeah, just... it’s been a rough day." After a brief period of silence, Felix gently asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jisung sighed deeply before his voice broke. "I just feel like I've ruined everything. Like I'm not worthy." Felix was silent for a while. A chair began to rustle, and soon Felix's voice could be heard once more. "You're new to this. Making mistakes is normal. But seem to be way too hard on yourself. What's happening?” Jisung hesitated, his words barely heard above a murmur. "I just wanted to show her that i was capable. I thought... I thought she was really nice. I thought she was pretty, too. I wanted to show her I could do this, you know? But everything I’ve done today, I’ve screwed up. I feel like I’ve let her down."

Felix's voice became even softer. "I know she's hard on you, Jisung, but it's not because she doesn't believe you can succeed. She knows you can, which is why she is pushing you. Don't be so hard on yourself. We've all been in your position. even her.” Trying not to cry, Jisung sniffed once more. "I just have the feeling that I might not be meant for this. I keep failing, even though I wanted to show her that I could manage it.” You were still while you stood in the hallway. As you listened to him, your heart hurt. He was just putting in a lot of effort. You were oblivious of the amount of pressure he had to put on himself to live up to your expectations. You hadn’t realized how much your sharp words were hurting him.

He wasn’t just a clumsy new nurse trying to find his footing—he was someone who admired you, someone who wanted to prove he could be more than just a rookie.

You stood there for a long moment, conflicted. You didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, you knew that this was a moment for you to act. But you didn’t step into the room. You just quietly continued with your day, letting the weight of his words sit with you.

The next morning, you woke up early, a quiet resolve settling over you. You couldn’t just let the previous day end the way it did. You had been too harsh on Jisung, and it wasn’t just the mistake he’d made. It was your reaction to it.

You grabbed a coffee on your way into the hospital, thinking of how to apologize. You’d never been one to be overly sentimental, but this felt different. This wasn’t about him being a bad nurse—it was about you, and how you’d let your frustration cloud your better judgment.

When you got there, Jisung was seated at the nurse's station, nervously shuffling papers with his head down. He appeared to have had little sleep, and you felt guilty once more. With your coffee in hand, you approached him and placed it silently on the counter in front of him. Startled, Jisung blinked up at you. With hesitation in his voice, he questioned, "What’s this?"

"A coffee," you replied plainly, your eyes gentle. Then you put a little note beside it. Despite your inability to find the correct words, you managed to write something that seemed sincere:

I’m sorry about yesterday. You're doing good. Don't give up and don't be scared to ask for help when you need it. You're not alone. [y/n]

You said nothing else. You simply turned to go, but as you did so, you could feel his eyes on you, looking at you with a mix of appreciation and confusion.

—

After the coffee incident, everything felt different in the days that followed. You and Jisung's interactions had a slight change. Although Jisung first appeared hesitant, he immediately accepted your apologies with a small, shy smile. Because of the decreased tension between you two, you realized that you were more understanding of him, particularly when he was having trouble. You were actively working to further his potential, even though it wasn't like you hadn't seen it before. He cared about doing his work well, and it was evident that he wanted to get better. There existed a part of you that valued that.

Jisung was given a particularly challenging patient one morning—an elderly man who was rude and demanding. All morning, he had acted aggressively toward the staff, refusing to take his medication and making disparaging remarks about the standard of care. Jisung appeared to be struggling to control the situation as he still tried to get the hang of things. When the patient shouted louder, you could see his shoulders hunch and his eyes dart to you for support. You said softly, "Hey, it's okay," as you approached Jisung. "I'll take over for a while with Mr. Kim. You go out to take a break.”

Jisung paused, obviously attempting to manage things on his own, but as you looked at him encouragingly, he nodded appreciatively. You took charge of the situation gently as you entered the room in a composed, commanding manner. You recognized the patient's difficulties while simultaneously speaking in a respectful manner. You had mastered the delicate balance over the years, but Jisung was clearly still learning how to do it.

After a few minutes, the patient’s tone softened, and he grudgingly accepted his medication.

Once you were out of the room, Jisung gave you a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I... I didn’t know how to handle him. He was just so... rude."

"You’ll get there," you reassured him. "It’s all part of the learning process. You don’t have to take it personally when they’re like that."

Jisung looked a little more confident, and you could see a sense of relief in his expression. "I’ll try not to next time."

"Good," you said, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "But don’t forget—if you’re ever in doubt, don’t hesitate to ask for help."

It wasn’t just the patient encounters that changed, though. You started to make more of an effort to help him with the technical aspects of nursing as well. Whether it was giving him feedback on his charting, offering tips on patient interaction, or even just showing him how to use equipment more efficiently, you took the time to mentor him with more patience than before.

One afternoon, during a break, you pulled Jisung aside. You weren’t sure what had made you want to do this, but you felt like it was time.

"Jisung," you said softly, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you for a second."

He looked up at you, a little startled. "Yeah? Is everything okay?"

You exhaled, feeling the weight of your previous actions. "I’ve been thinking a lot about how I treated you when you first started. And I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry. I wasn’t fair to you, and I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’ve been tough on you, and I feel terrible about it."

Jisung’s eyes softened immediately, and he gave a small, understanding smile. "It’s okay. Really. I... I know I’ve been messing up a lot, and I get it. I think you were just frustrated. I get it."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing well. You are doing well, Jisung. You’re just new, and it’s okay to make mistakes. I should’ve supported you better."

His smile widened a little. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. And... I’m sorry too, for messing up so much. I want to be better."

You nodded, smiling back at him. "You are better. Every day you get better."

As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Jisung. He wasn’t just a trainee anymore; he was someone you could talk to, someone you actually enjoyed working with. There was still that initial spark of admiration you’d felt for him, but now it was tempered by mutual respect.

That Friday, as the end of your shift neared, you threw out an invitation you hadn’t planned on making but had been thinking about all day.

You looked over at him and said, "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the bar after work," "Usually, Felix and I go with a few other nurses. Do you want to join us?” Jisung's eyes became a little wider. "Oh! Yes, of course, I would love to.” You said, "Good," with a tiny smile on your lips. "It will be fun. You deserve a break.”

That evening, you found yourself at the small bar that all the nurses and hospital staff frequented after shifts. The atmosphere was laid-back, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the hospital. You, Jisung, Felix, and a couple of other nurses sat around a table, talking about everything but work. The drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed around the room, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax.

You discovered you had a lot in common with Jisung, who was unexpectedly easy to talk to outside of work. You realized how much you two had in common. you both loved music, and you shared some of your favorite songs with him. He was interested in photography, something you had experimented with when you were younger. You even shared stories about awkward childhood experiences and your shared passion for late-night snacking.

You two realized at the end of the night that you had been talking for hours on end without even realizing how quickly the time had passed. Everyone had gone home, leaving the two of you standing outside the bar in a comfortable silence.

"I had a great time," Jisung said, his voice quiet but sincere. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Yeah, me too," you replied, your heart unexpectedly fluttering. "I’m glad you came."

He hesitated for a moment, then, asked "Can I... walk you to your car? I mean, since it’s pretty late and all."

You smiled back, a little surprised by the gesture, but it felt nice. "Sure."

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before stopping in front of your car. Jisung looked at you, his expression soft but uncertain, and you could see the faintest trace of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice a little lower now, as if unsure of what to say next.

You tilted your head, feeling the moment shift, something that had been building all night, maybe even all week. You weren’t sure why, but in that instant, you felt drawn to him in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned in, your movements slow and deliberate, and before you knew it, your lips brushed against his in a brief but meaningful kiss.

Jisung’s breath hitched slightly, and when you pulled away, you both looked at each other, surprised by the tenderness of the moment.

"Goodnight, Jisung," you said softly, smiling a little more than you expected to.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice almost shy, but there was a warmth in his smile that made your heart skip a beat.

As you got into your car, you couldn’t help but think about the way the night had unfolded. Maybe things had changed between you and Jisung in more ways than just professionally. Maybe it wasn’t just a mentor-mentee relationship anymore.

—

nini’s notes 111324

hello everyone (: i hope you’re all doing super well.

i hope you enjoy this, i was never going to post because i didn’t know how to end it so the ending is definitely/feels rushed so sorry about that 😭. this was originally supposed to be kind of a love triangle thing between jisung, reader, and chan but i didn’t end up liking how it was turning out :>

this was inspired by a snippet of the new show st. denis medical i actually haven’t had time to watch it yet but i heard that it’s really good & accurate. Lol.

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[chevyslate158]

Coriolanus Snow x Reader 18+ - I'll Be Watching You

A/N: Hey everyone! This little piece is a filler while I work on Chapter 2 of Threads of Freedom (15th Hunger Games AU, Archer Brown x Fem!Reader) – which will be uploaded by the end of the week, I promise! Sorry for the wait and thank you for your patience. This is my first proper dark fic, so as far as I’m aware, this should be 18+ due to mature themes. I hope you all enjoy this little detour, and I’m excited to share more with you soon! Keep an eye out for Chapter 2 – it’s coming soon!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Abuse (emotional, psychological, and possessive), Dark themes, Toxic relationships (I do not condone this), Non-consensual elements, Violence/Threat of violence, Manipulation, Mentions of sex, Coercion, Stalking and Jealousy let me know if I missed any!

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The night was loud, bustling with voices echoing through the makeshift walls of the Hob, the heart of black-market life in District 12. You'd been busy, making your rounds with the goods your family had sent you to sell, weaving in and out of the rickety stands that filled the dim space. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of stale bread and roasted game. It was the same every night, though tonight, something felt... different.

You felt it before you saw him—a prickling awareness at the back of your neck like someone’s eyes were boring right into you. Glancing up, you saw him standing across the room, the faint glow of a single bare bulb casting shadows over his face. A young peacekeeper, uniform pristine, with piercing blue eyes that didn’t waver when they met yours. Coriolanus Snow.

You’d heard whispers about him—the Capitol boy with ice in his veins who’d recently arrived to serve in District 12. He was unlike the other peacekeepers who draped themselves lazily over chairs or leaned casually against walls. No, Snow stood stiffly, as if he’d never let himself blend into his surroundings, as if he were above it all.

But tonight, he was focused on you.

After that night, Snow began appearing everywhere you went. At first, it was subtle—a figure lingering just far enough away to be nearly invisible but always there, always watching. In the crowded marketplace, in the quiet moments when you paused on your way home. Every time you dared to glance back, his eyes were waiting. He’d give a slight nod, a slow acknowledgment, a silent claim that grew stronger with each day.

Soon, it became impossible to ignore. Snow wasn’t simply watching; he was weaving himself into every part of your life, binding himself to you with an unspoken possessiveness. He knew which paths you took and where you liked to sit by the river, and he’d often appear there, casually positioned as if by chance, though you knew better. When you questioned him, he’d smile, a strange blend of amusement and arrogance in his eyes, as if he enjoyed toying with your sense of control, as if he wanted you to know that your life was no longer entirely your own.

One evening, when you were out trading goods, Snow approached you without warning, slipping into step beside you.

“I don’t like you coming here alone,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with an edge. “Too many people who don’t have your best interests in mind.”

You tried to brush him off, saying you could handle yourself, but he scoffed, an unsettling smile spreading across his face.

“You don’t understand. You don’t have to be strong or careful. Not with me here.” His words were meant to reassure you, but they settled over you like a shadow, a cold reminder that his protection was not optional, that he would always be there whether you wanted him to be or not.

But he didn’t own you, nor did he control you. Taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a polite smile, careful to keep your tone light.

“I appreciate the concern, Coriolanus,” you said, choosing your words delicately. “But I don’t need you looking out for me. I’m fine on my own.”

You could see the faint twitch of his jaw, and a slight narrowing of his eyes, but you ignored it, determined to stand your ground. Before he could reply, you turned on your heel, heading down the narrow path toward home without looking back.

The silence behind you was tense and heavy, but you walked briskly, half-expecting him to let it go. Yet something about the quiet felt wrong, and that prickle of unease crept up your spine once more. Suddenly, you heard him call your name—softly, but with an unmistakable edge.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying,” he said, his voice dangerously low. You could feel his footsteps behind you, and before you could quicken your pace, he was by your side again, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Do you think this is a choice?” His voice was no longer smooth but sharp, each word edged with frustration.

“You don’t just get to walk away.” He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, his grip tightening when you tried to pull away. “I’m here because you need me. I see the way people look at you, what they think they can take from you.” His gaze bore into yours, and you realised that his frustration ran deeper than anger—it was something primal, possessive, a hunger to control.

“Don’t make this difficult,” he murmured, the unsettling calm in his voice sending a chill through you.

Your pulse quickened as his grip tightened, firm enough to keep you there but not enough to hurt—yet. Snow’s expression shifted, the mask of calm giving way to something far darker. His eyes, usually so controlled, now blazed with a fierce possessiveness that was almost terrifying.

"You think you’re safe here?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a quiet fury looking down at you as though you were stupid. "This place would swallow you whole if I let it. You have no idea what people are capable of."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a tremor of fear. “Maybe so,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt.

“But that’s my choice, not yours.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, hoping he’d see the resolve in your eyes, but instead, he laughed softly—a hollow, unsettling sound.

“Your choice?” He echoed, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. “No. You don’t understand, do you?” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your cheek, and when he spoke, his voice was both a promise and a warning.

"I know everything about you. I know where you live, the way home, the people you talk to. I know your fears. I don’t just watch, I protect. And whether you like it or not, you’re mine.” He glowered down at you.

You tried to pull away, but his hand tightened, holding you in place as his gaze bore into you with an intensity that made it clear he would never let you go.

“I won’t let anyone else have you,” he continued, his voice low and unwavering, as if stating a fact rather than a threat.

“So stop pretending you can push me away, or ignore me. You belong to me, and I won’t have it any other way.” His grip finally loosened, but the weight of his words lingered, searing into your mind as he released you, his face unreadable.

You backed away, heart racing, aware that this was only the beginning of something that would bind you to him in ways you couldn’t yet understand.

The intensity in his stare held you captive, as though he was daring you to challenge him, to defy the claim he’d just laid upon you. For a brief moment, you thought about running, about putting as much distance as you could between yourself and the figure before you. But something told you he would follow—no matter how far you went, he would always find you.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper, defiant yet trembling.

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark and dangerous crossing his face. He took a step closer, closing the distance you’d tried to create.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he murmured, each word deliberate, his tone unsettlingly calm. “But you’ll come to understand, in time. I don’t give up on the things I want.” His fingers brushed your cheek, lingering for just a second too long. “And I want you.”

The weight of his declaration settled over you like a shroud, suffocating, and you could feel the force of his obsession surrounding you, pressing in on all sides. His presence was inescapable, a shadow that clung to you, a constant reminder that no matter where you went, his eyes would always be watching, his influence always closing in. The cold, unsettling truth sank in: Snow wasn’t merely infatuated. He saw you as something that belonged to him, something he would protect fiercely—and control completely.

As he finally released you, his gaze softened, a twisted tenderness flickering there. “One day, you’ll see I’m right. I’m the only one who can keep you safe, who can truly understand you.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, his words chillingly soft. “One day, you’ll realise that’s exactly what you need. That I'm exactly what you need.”

Time had passed, and somehow, you found yourself bound to him in ways you never anticipated. His words, his presence, his very being had become woven into your life like an invasive vine, tightening its hold each day. He didn’t give you a choice; his insistence became an inevitability. He declared that he was what you needed, and his grip on your life became as unyielding as the iron-fisted peacekeepers he commanded. Somewhere along the way, resisting felt as exhausting as it did hopeless.

When he was gentle, his touch was light, his words tender as he whispered promises in the quiet moments between you. “No one will ever understand you like I do,” he’d murmur, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your arm.

“They don’t know you the way I do,” He'd say to you breathing down your neck lips grazing your skin when he had you pinned against a cold desolate concrete wall across from the Hob in the dark when he saw you chatting with another man from inside the hob his jealousy overriding his train of thought leading you to where you were at that moment.

Those words made you feel both cherished and trapped, his affection tinged with a possessiveness that stifled you, smothered you. But he saw this as devotion, a twisted loyalty that would bind you to him, even as he twisted your will to fit his.

Yet his moods shifted like shadows, sudden and dark. One wrong word, one misstep, and his gentle touch could turn cold, his smile fading into an unyielding glare.

“Where were you?” he would ask, his voice deceptively calm but his eyes burning with a simmering anger.

“You think you can just slip away whenever you want?” He’d take your wrist, just tight enough to remind you who held control, his grip softening only when he saw the hesitation in your gaze.

He’d pull you close, his voice a possessive whisper. “I won’t let you leave. Don’t even think about it. No one will ever protect you like I will.”

And still, there were moments when he was vulnerable—when his mask slipped, and you could see the frightened boy behind the stern peacekeeper, an illusion to the young boy he once was in the Capitol.

“I’ve lost too much already,” he confessed one night, his voice breaking the quiet of the room, low and strained after the passion that had consumed you both.

A sheen of sweat glistened across your bodies, the air thick with the aftermath of your shared breathless silence. The dim lantern flickered in the corner of your small home, casting a warm glow that only served to make his sharp features more prominent, his icy blue eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them as if the light revealed something deeper—something more fragile. His hand rested protectively over yours intertwining your hand with his, his other arm draped across your frame, tugging you closer as if he could fuse you into him, as though he needed your presence to solidify his reality.

"Don't make me lose you too," he repeated, his voice muffled as he pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel the tremor in his breath, the weight of his words sinking into your skin. The raw vulnerability that had bled through him during those moments of intimacy now lingered in the air, like an unspoken plea that both terrified and touched you. His lips, still warm from the kiss that had left you breathless, moved softly against your forehead as he whispered, "I've already lost so much. I can't bear to lose you too."

You lay there, caught between the storm of desire and the weight of his obsession, feeling the intensity of his emotions wrapped around you like a vice. He wasn’t just holding you physically; he was anchoring himself to you, weaving a web of control and love that was both suffocating and intoxicating.

Every touch felt like a claim, every whispered word a promise you weren't sure you could escape. But in the stillness of that moment, when his heart seemed to beat in time with yours, you wondered if there was a part of him that truly did love you, or if it was simply the fear of losing control over something—someone—he had come to see as his.

His eyes met yours in the low light, searching you, reading you, as though trying to gauge whether you felt the same hunger for him, the same need. You could see it then—the darkness in him that was more than just obsession. It was desperation. Desperation for your love, for your loyalty, for a future where you would never leave him. He was willing to give you everything, but it was clear that everything meant something far different to him than it did to you.

In his mind, you weren’t just a part of his world—you were the only thing worth holding onto, the one thing he could never lose. And in that moment, as the weight of his words settled over you, you realized that you were no longer just a passive observer in this dangerous dance between love and control. You were as bound to him as he was to you, and though you longed for freedom, you couldn't help but wonder if his love for you—his need for you—was something you could ever truly escape.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello blusy!

I would like to request something about Donna dating reader and everything going great but reader's family is hesitant about the relationship and that makes reader sad. Donna sensing how important family is to reader decides to get out of her comfort zone and tries to make reader's family more comfortable around her like making toys for readers little nieces and nephews after seeing their parents don't have much money to buy them a lot of toys. and ironically the little ones of the family are the ones more comfortable around donna and angie. Maybe one day reader gets sick and her family witness how donna is there for her and taking care of her and that makes them change their mind like "okay, maybe she is not that bad like they say".

Thank you!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Opening their eyes

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,543

Summary: You can't choose between Donna and your family...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Ugh, mom,” you protested while your mother hugged you as if she hadn't seen you in years.

“(Y/N), you don't know how happy I am to see you,” the woman said, with shining eyes, as if she really thought that for a moment she had lost you. “I thought I would never…”

“It's not that big of a deal,” you said with an amused smile, downplaying it while you made a gesture with your hands.

“Young lady,” your father whispered, crossing his arms as you entered the house. “We were really worried about you. You didn't come last week.”

“Oh, well, I had a terrible cold,” you explained, accompanying your parents to the living room. “I was too tired to come.”

“It was definitely a cold,” your father said with a certain irony that made you roll your eyes. “You could have called.”

“Sorry, dad, I was too busy with the fever,” you said amused, relaxing in what was once your home. “I've told you a thousand times that I'm fine.”

They both looked at each other with a strange expression, sitting next to you and bringing you a cup of tea.

“I know those looks,” you said suspiciously, frowning. “What's wrong? Did something happen with Mihaela? Oh, don't tell me she's pregnant again.”

“Your sister is perfectly fine, (Y/N),” your mother said with a serious tone.

“Great,” you said nodding, blowing on your cup. “Me too.”

“Allow me to doubt it,” your father murmured, with his eyebrows raised.

“Look at me, I’m fine,” you said spreading your arms in an exaggerated way. “I've never been better,” you said the last sentence with a slightly darker tone, knowing what they really meant. “(Y/N), honey, why don't you come home?” your mother finally asked, giving vent to something you knew she was holding back. “You'd be better off with your parents.”

“Mm, I see,” you said, huffing again, leaning your back on the couch as you shook your head. “There's no way I'm coming to visit you without you trying to drag me back into your shelter, huh?”

“We only want the best for you,” your mother said, with a worried expression.

“What about Mihaela? You don't demand that she come back to live with you,” you protested, in a somewhat childish way.

“Mihaela has formed a wonderful family, (Y/N),” your father asserted. “A completely normal one.”

“Oh, of course, I'm not normal,” you said in a mocking tone, narrowing your eyes. “I've heard this before.”

“What your father means, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted, giving her husband a fiery look. “It's that your sister doesn't give us any reason to worry about.”

“Doesn’t she?” you said, blinking petulantly. “So, according to you, I should be married and giving you lots of grandchildren, right?”

“Sometimes I dream that's true, (Y/N),” the man said, with a satisfied look. “At least she doesn't live with a dangerous crazy woman.”

“Hey,” you sighed annoyed, shaking your head. “You've set a new record, dad, it didn't take you even 5 minutes to mess with Donna, fabulous.”

“Donna…” he whispered, with a fake smile. “Of course, I should have guessed that my youngest daughter would get involved with the freakiest freak in the village.”

“Marcus… Don't say things like that, what if she can hear you?” your mother said, looking around.

At that comment you couldn't help but laugh ironically, swallowing the words that wanted to come out of your mouth, reflecting before starting another argument with your parents, another argument about your girlfriend.

“Can't you understand that I love her?” you said annoyed. “Besides, Donna is a Lord, I couldn't be more protected with anyone.”

“We, (Y/N), we are the ones who need to be protected from them,” your father said, always finding a scathing answer for everything you said. “Protectors of the village… well, they're just a bunch of heartless monsters. Sorry for worrying that one of them seduced my daughter.”

“Seduced?” you asked, leaning forward, starting to get nervous. “There are at least two things wrong with what you said. First, Donna isn't a monster, and second… to be fair, I seduced her.”

“Gods…” your mother sighed, probably imagining horrible things in her head. “Couldn't you notice someone normal, like your sister did?”

“You know that my tastes are special,” you said haughtily, looking at your nails. “Hey, I understand that you have doubts, but I assure you that Donna is a nice soul, she takes care of me, loves me and protects me.”

“She's crazy, (Y/N), everyone knows it, you knew it since you were little,” your mother said, putting a protective hand on your shoulder. “It's just a matter of time before she hurts you.”

“Ugh, how many times do I have to say it? Donna isn't crazy, she's sick,” you said, defending your girlfriend, as always. “If I had lived in isolation, enduring the mockery of children, my sister would have died and my parents would have thrown themselves into the void in front of me, I wouldn't be right in the head either.”

“I see she has taught you well to defend her,” your father whispered, darkening his gaze. “What else has she taught you, (Y/N)?”

“Do you really want to know?” you challenged with a sharp tone, internally trying to calm your words.

“(Y/N),” your mother protested at your rudeness. “It doesn't matter what you say, we are older, we have known Lady Beneviento since long before you were born and we know the horrible things she has done.”

“You know how to judge others, don't you? You seem good at it,” you said with a slightly childish tone. “Look, I'm 22 years old. I'm old enough to judge for myself.”

“You're a brat, (Y/N),” your father said, pointing at you with his finger. “Your mother also thought she was old enough at your age, and what a coincidence, Mihaela was born shortly after.”

“Well, don't worry, I'm not pregnant,” you said mockingly, looking away from your parents. “Hey... I know Donna seems terrible and that she's... a little scary, but I assure you that she's a kind, loving and sensitive woman. She has nothing to do with what those stupid rumors say.”

“A rumor can be false, (Y/N), but hundreds of them are closer to the truth,” your mother commented, with that tone of false wisdom that got on your nerves. “You're in love, you probably have her idealized, and when you realize your mistake we won't be able to save you.”

“Save me? That was a good one,” you said, shaking your head, moving your legs nervously. “I don't need anyone to save me, mom. Donna isn't like they say, but I care less and less that you don't believe me.”

“You should care, young lady,” your father said with the same smug tone. “Don't you understand that we're doing this for your own sake?”

“And you don't understand that Donna is good for me?” you counterattacked, with a harsher tone. “If you're going to be messing with Donna every time I come to see you, maybe I have to stop coming.”

“Lady Beneviento is a sinister and dangerous woman, I can't sleep peacefully knowing that you live with someone like that,” your mother said, making your anger increase.

“If you knew her you wouldn't say those things,” you murmured with an indignant pose, thinking coldly about your words.

“No, thank you, I'm proud that none of those abominations have ever entered my house,” the man said with a sarcastic smile. “That woman is not welcome here, (Y/N).”

“Wait, Marcus...” your mother whispered, thoughtfully. “What if the girl is right? Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Svetlana, don't be condescending, a brat like her doesn't have the right to the benefit of the doubt,” your father growled. “Keep that freak away from this house, (Y/N), and away from you.”

“Insult her again, come on,” you said, standing up threateningly. “If you don't accept Donna it means you don't accept me, so I don't want to waste my time in this house anymore,” you said angrily, walking to grab your coat and walk out the door.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, chasing you, while your father didn't move, staying on the couch with a mocking laugh. “(Y/N), wait…”

“No, mom, you're always judging me, I've been living with Donna for a year and I've never given you any reason to worry about, but you don't understand, you still don't understand,” you said, opening the door. “My sister married an idiot and you've never said anything to her, is it because Donna's a woman?”

“No, honey, it's because of who that woman is,” your mother said, closing the door a little behind you.

“It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that the rumors are wrong, right? Why bother to keep insisting? I'm leaving, we'll see each other later,” you said, turning around abruptly, ready to go back home.

“Wait, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted with a hand on your arm. “Wait, my girl. Listen, next week your nephews are coming to eat at home, and I would like you to come too.

“I, of course,” you hissed, blinking impatiently. “I'll think about it.”

“Maybe you could... I don't know, maybe it would be a good time for us to meet... Lady Beneviento,” your mother hinted, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you want to meet Donna? It's funny, you just said that she's a dangerous crazy woman,” you said suspiciously.

“I honestly don't have any desire to meet... that woman, but maybe I could feel relieved if I saw for myself that she's not a danger to you,” the woman explained, making you think.

“Donna doesn't leave the house, I doubt it's possible,” you muttered to yourself, scratching the back of your neck. “Can't you just trust my word?”

“We trust your sister's word and now we have two grandchildren,” your mother joked, which caused you to give a slight smile to her. “Sometimes you have to see it to believe it, (Y/N).”

“I don't promise you anything,” you whispered, really thinking about that possibility. “Besides, dad doesn't want her to enter his house.”

“Oh, let me convince your father, you know that he softens a lot when he's with the kids,” she said amused, putting your clothes back on in a motherly way.

“I assure you that it is much easier to convince that stubborn old man than Donna, but well, I will try,” you said, walking back home.

Visits to your parents always had a bitter taste, an almost unbearable tension that you had to go through. For you, your family was important, really important, and your new circumstances didn’t prevent you from continuing to maintain contact.

You were a simple villager, born into a humble family, with no outstanding features beyond a certain ease with words. Your destiny was never written, it was always a messy scribble written with erasable ink. One day, the day when, by chance, you met Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, the words were finally written permanently, indelible.

Donna was a strange woman, yes, sick and tormented by her past. She had been alone for years, fulfilling her duties to the village, protecting it, keeping it under the protection of the Black Gods. You were no stranger to the rumors, to the terrible things she did in the past. You never gave importance to those acts of self-defense or desperate moves.

She was… cultured, sensitive, tremendously intelligent and she was longing to have someone who really understood her, someone who would brutally end her loneliness, forever. Of course you didn't think that it was you.

Her beauty hidden by a horrible veil, the sale of her soul to the Gods, her worries, her complexes, her insecurities, soon became discoveries for you, things that made the lady in black more and more interesting.

Falling in love with her was not difficult, her falling in love with you was just a matter of days. Contrary to what anyone might think, your life wasn’t a torment of hallucinations and nightmares, but quite the opposite, it was a valley full of light and affection, of kisses, hugs, words of love, strong and unbreakable feelings.

Of course you remember the day when you had no choice but to tell your parents who was occupying your thoughts, with whom you would spend the rest of your life. To say that they were surprised would be to understate it. You argued with them, your mother cried, your father cried for revenge…

During that whole year you did nothing but show off the Italian's goodness to them, beg them to stop worrying and pay attention to partially false rumors. They never believed you, every time you went to visit them it was the same story. Worry, fear, childish strategies to get you to return to them…

No one, not even your family could get you to stop loving Donna, no one, never, but sometimes, just sometimes, you wished the situation would change, that your parents would accept your decisions and stop thinking you were just an immature brat.

You had found the love of your life and, having clear where you wanted to be, your next goal became to achieve that pleasant coexistence between the two most important things in your life, Donna and your family.

“Tesoro, are you okay? You haven't tried the lasagna, don't you like it?” the lady in black asked, while you were having dinner in silence, as always.

You shook your head as you played with your food, submerged in a sea of ​​thoughts and helplessness that threatened to disturb your happiness.

“I love your lasagna, really,” you said sighing, starting to eat your dinner so as not to worry your girlfriend absurdly.

“Is something wrong, (Y/N)? Are you feeling sick again?” the lady asked again, with that worried glint in her eye that you adored.

Seriously, how could your parents doubt her? The hard thing was getting her to let you breathe.

“Mm? No, no, I'm fine,” you said with a confident tone, nodding confidently.

“You shouldn't leave the house yet, you could suffer a relapse,” Donna said, with a dark look.

“Nonsense, I'm fine,” you said amused, suppressing a cough that revealed that perhaps you hadn't fully recovered. “I need some wine.”

Donna smiled tenderly, serving you a glass in an elegant manner.

“Prego…” she whispered, leaving the bottle on the table and studying you with her gaze. “Is anything worrying you?”

“No, nothing,” you lied, with a sigh that revealed your true thoughts.

As expected, the lady in black wasn’t the most versed in interpreting gestures or typical human behavior. Poor thing, she spent too much time alone.

“Donna,” you said, drawing her attention with a frown at her involuntary indifference. “Hey, look at me. It's obvious that something is worrying me.”

“Oh, um... is something wrong?” she asked confused, stopping eating. “You told me you were fine.”

“Please, it was obviously a lie,” you joked, shaking your head. “Come on, try again, darling.”

“I... Is something wrong?” she asked  nervously, confused by your much more casual attitude, by your heart's attempt to give back to the brunette all the years that cruel fate had taken from her.

“Yes,” you sighed, finishing your dinner and taking a sip of wine. “I argued with my parents again,” you finally said, with a sad tone.

“I'm so sorry,” Donna said, reaching out her hand to caress yours tenderly. “It was my fault, right?”

“No, well…” you said, unsure if it was the right answer. “It's not your fault, darling, it's just that they are… stubborn,” you said with a slightly more relaxed tone. “They are incapable of accepting what we have.”

“It’s my fault then,” she murmured, wiping her face with a napkin and lowering her gaze. “They must think I'm a monster.”

“No,” you lied again, playing with her hand, caressing it gently so she wouldn't get too nervous.

A crisis was the last thing you needed that day.

“It's not your fault, Donna, it's them who... Ugh, they think I don't have enough judgment to decide who I want to spend the rest of my life with,” you commented, rolling your eyes. “What nonsense, my sister's husband is a jerk and they never told her anything.”

“He wasn't a Lord,” the lady whispered, shaking her head. “They just want to protect you... from me.”

“No, no, no, Donna, don't start with your super-powerful-Lord complex” you said moving your other hand and studying her nervous gestures, the trembling of her hand in yours. “I love you just the way you are, my love, I don't care if you're a Lord or...”

“Or a nutcase,” she finished, lowering her gaze again.

“Well, they can say whatever they want,” you finally sighed, finishing your glass of wine. “I don't care what they think of you, I know it's not like that. Damn it, they judge me when both my mother and my sister got pregnant by two stupid oafs, do they really think I would do the same?”

The lady choked on her drink at your joking tone, taking everything you said seriously again.

“(Y/N)..., n-no, I don't think…” she said somewhat nervously, with a fake laugh.

“I'm just saying it's unfair,” you said, rolling your eyes again at her innocence.

“Yes, but don't worry, tesoro, I don't care what they think of me,” she said, downplaying it.

“I do care, Donna. They're just stupid rumors,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“Not everything is rumors,” the lady whispered, looking away, embarrassed. “You know that, (Y/N)”

“W-Well, what does it matter? We've all made mistakes in the past, or killed someone, or… well, not that but…”

Donna shook her head, with a mix of pain and amusement at your stupid way of excusing the Lord for… well, being a Lord.

“(Y/N), vieni,” she said, gesturing for you to get up, a gesture you obeyed, letting her sit you on her lap with an elegant movement. “Amore mio… don't give it any importance, everything is fine.”

You sighed, letting her lips rest on yours slowly, in one of those kisses that melted you completely.

“Yes, Donna, but… it's frustrating, they say those horrible things because they don't know you,” you murmured, playing playfully with her black hair, pouting. “That no one is able to see the wonderful woman you are makes me angry.”

“The only thing I care about is that you think that way, even if you're wrong,” your girlfriend whispered, kissing you again, giving you that tenderness you needed at that moment. “Mm, let's go pick this up, okay? It's been a long day.”

The time finally came for the sheets to warm your body a little. You were exhausted, still recovering from the flu you had a week ago, and with everything that had happened, you just wanted to rest.

Donna was reading beside you as always, stroking your head distractedly while you daydreamed suddenly remembering something important, something you had to try.

“Donna,” you said, getting her attention, making her put the book down and nod for you to talk. “Next week I have to go to have lunch with my parents, my nephews are coming and…”

“Mm, well, I guess I can't do anything to stop you from leaving me alone,” she whispered in a sad tone.

Yes, it had been hard for you to fight her madness, her jealousy, her reluctance to stay alone in that mansion again.

“Yes, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, keeping her gaze, something difficult to do due to the spark of jealousy in her eye. “I-I want to ask you a favor.”

“If it's in my hands, I'll do it,” she said in a stoic, confident tone.

“Yes, um…” you stammered, regretting the proposal you were going to make her. “My nephews, Niko and Olga, you know that their family doesn't have much money and…”

“How much do they need?” Donna offered immediately, without thinking.

“No, no, it's not that,” you stammered, juggling in your mind to avoid that awkward moment. “What I mean is that their parents can't buy them many toys and they have to share them.”

“What's the point, tesoro?” the lady asked, impatient with your stammering.

“Well, you make dolls so… I thought that if you don't have much work, you could make them some toys, you know…” you asked uncertainly.

She nodded without hesitation, looking for a notebook on her table, where she used to write down orders.

“Sure, of course,” she said with a smile, opening the notebook. “It's my job. Tell me, what do your nephews like?”

“Niko is a fan of racing cars and Olga… Well, it's not hard to please her, one of those cheesy dolls you make will do, Oh, I mean… one of your fantastic dolls,” you said amused.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, writing things down in the notebook and laughing at your innocent mistake. “Una macchina… va bene. I'll need to ask the Duke for some materials, but it's no problem.”

“See? You're wonderful, my love,” you said, stealing a deep kiss from her while she laughed at your attack of affection.

“I would do anything to see you happy, you know that,” the lady whispered, kissing you again, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I know,” you whispered confused, thinking about what you really wanted to tell her. “Good night, Donna,” you said romantically, kissing her for the last time and turning off the light.

You weren't able to sleep, because your mother's offer was still in your head. Maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to try to get Donna to meet your family, although you knew it was a bit complicated.

“Um, Donna…” you said after a few minutes, turning the light back on and making the lady grunt.

“Cosa…?”

“I have to ask you another favor,” you said sitting on the bed, playing with your hands. “I would like you to come with me.”

“Dove?” she asked, rubbing her eye, with a hoarse voice.

“To my house, to my parents' house,” you said cautiously.

 “No,” Donna said dryly, with a suddenly cold expression.

“I was expecting that answer…” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, darling, it could be a perfect occasion to prove they’re wrong, for them to get to know you.”

“I don't want them to know me, I don't need them to know me, (Y/N), no,” she repeated again, crossing her arms with childish arrogance.

“But I do,” you sighed, bringing your hands together. “Donna, please, it would be very important for me.”

“I'm sorry, no,” the brunette insisted, making you growl.

“I thought my parents were stubborn…” you murmured, squeezing your eyes with your fingers. “It's not a trap, I promise, I just want my parents to see how you really are, that you love and care for me.”

“I know I love you, you know I love you. That's enough,” she said, looking away with a sharp gesture.

“Ugh, Donna,” you said, crossing your arms with another groan. “Come on, my nephews are going, I'm sure they'll...”

“Nephews?” a shrill voice burst into the bedroom.

The Angie doll appeared, comically walking and climbing the bed while you both followed her with your eyes.

“Hey, were you spying?” you asked as the doll climbed towards her owner. “You shouldn't listen to other people's conversations.”

“I wasn't spying, silly, silly, you just talk too loud,” Angie said, with her hands on her hips.

“Oh,” you said blinking with a cocky smile. “Since when do you dedicate yourself to listening behind the door? Do you always do it?”

“Unfortunately,” the puppet murmured, letting herself fall between you two. “Let's see, let's see, have I heard anything about some nephews?”

“My nephews, next week I'll eat with my parents and them,” you explained, having no reason to lie to the rebellious and shameless counterpart of the doll maker.

“Oh, oh, are they children?” Angie asked, getting too close to you.

“Yes, they are 7 and 8 years old,” you said amused.

“Oh, interesting...”

You definitely couldn't waste that unique opportunity.

“Do you like children, Angie?” you asked curiously, while the lady stared at her, also annoyed with her unwanted intrusion.

“Of course I like children. They are the only ones who want to play with me, not like you, boring, clingy fools,” the doll said, pointing at you mockingly.

“You would like to play with them, wouldn't you?” you asked in a sweet tone, making the brunette turn her head towards you abruptly, knowing, surely, what you intended.

“Yes, yes, yes,” the doll said, excited.

“It's a shame,” you sighed, pretending sadness. “I've told Donna to come with me, but she doesn't want to.”

“Why? Silly Donna…” Angie said, growling comically at her owner, now harassing her.

-Angie, don't get involved in our affairs –the lady hissed, pushing her away from her body. –I said no, and that's no.

“You say you'd do anything to make me happy…” you said in a low tone, a little sadder, bordering on disappointment. “This would make me very happy.”

“(Y/N), I wouldn't…” Donna said, shaking her head.

“Silly Donna, listen to the other silly, it would make her very happy…” Angie sang, tilting her head in an impossible way.

“I said no! Cazzo!” the lady shrieked, making the doll flee to your lap, scared by the irrational anger of her owner.

“Leave it be Angie,” you said, sad, disappointed. “It's not worth it.”

“You stupid, stubborn spaghetti,” the doll accused, pulling even harder on her patience. “You're going to make the fool cry.”

“All you want is to scare those children,” Donna said, with a stern but somewhat calmer tone.

“No, I want to play, (Y/N) wants you to go with her and you want to make her happy, what's the problem? Are you afraid that people will stop thinking that you are a monster without feelings?” the puppet mocked without fearing the wrath of its owner.

Donna didn't say anything, she just sighed, running a hand through her hair and glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, watching how you curled up in bed, turning your back on her, suppressing a sob.

Your family was important to you, Donna was important to you. You couldn't, you simply couldn't choose between the two things, you couldn't stand it anymore.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry I yelled,” the brunette apologized, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“Donna, you know how important my family is to me,” you sighed, wiping a tear that ran down your cheek. “I can't stand the idea of ​​them thinking you're a danger, of them thinking you don't love me, because it's not true. But don't worry, just keep on with your dolls and your stupid isolation, I'll figure out how to continue without your help.”

“Cavolo…” the doll maker growled, crossing her arms and looking at the Angie doll, who looked at her expectantly.

“You made her cry, Donna, you fool,” Angie hissed. “Fix it.”

“I…” the lady murmured, thinking carefully about her words. “Okay, I'll do it. I'll do it for you, (Y/N). I would die without thinking that I wouldn't be able to do anything for you.”

Finally the lady accepted the offer, and you couldn't be happier, but as the date of the meeting approached, nerves mercilessly invaded your entire body. You knew that Donna was nice; you knew that she had sacrificed her comfort zone for you, but you weren't sure if your parents would change their minds. You hoped so.

As expected, your parents' faces paled when they saw the woman with the veil. Your father remained cold, your mother trembled, but you tried to ignore those dangerous signs.

“Well, I guess you already know Donna,” you said nervously, watching the children hide because of that imposing presence. “Look, honey, this is my mother, Svetlana,” you said, guiding the brunette towards the frightened woman, who bowed her head in respect.

“It's an honor, Lady Beneviento,” she said in a helpful tone, without looking at the lady, who nodded slowly, without showing any emotion.

“Um, and this... this is Marcus, my father,” you said a little more nervously, pointing at your father, who looked at Donna with distrust, giving her a reluctant greeting.

“Grandma, what is that?” Niko, your nephew asked tugging at your mother's dress and pointing shamelessly at Angie, who pointed at herself.

“That? That?” the doll asked, breaking free from her owner's grip. “I'm not that, my little friend, I'm the fabulous, the unique, the fantastic Angie.”

Both children backed away as the doll approached.

“Hey, leave them alone,” your father said, protecting your nephews, making clumsy gestures towards Angie.

“No, no, it's not okay, she won't hurt them,” you said, grabbing your father's arm, who growled as he watched the doll chase your nephews.

“Oh, you little cowards…” Angie crooned. “Very well, then I won't show you my magic tricks.”

“Magic?” your niece asked, peeking timidly.

“Yes, magic,” the doll said, nodding proudly. “Tell me, have you ever seen a doll that does this?” she shouted amused, twisting her head comically, instantly gaining the attention of the children.

“Wow…” they sighed at the same time, dazzled by Angie's charisma.

“What else can you do?” Niko asked, shyly approaching the doll.

“Mm, I'm the world champion of hide and seek, you scumbags,” the doll commented, before your attentive gaze.

“That's a lie, I'm better,” Olga said, protesting amused.

“Dear…we'll have to prove it…”

Surprisingly, the children didn't take long to gain confidence with Angie, and with Donna, as she timidly handed them the gifts she had made. Of course, that woman in black, veiled and silent, scared them, but they soon lost fear when they saw their new toys, jumping for joy and thanking your girlfriend effusively.

Your parents barely spoke. They limited themselves to watching your nephews when they dared to approach Donna to give her a tender hug for their gifts. The children were wonderful, they were immune to rumors. They soon felt totally comfortable with the presence of that mysterious woman.

“What is this?” your father asked, sitting at the table while the children had fun with the doll and their new toys.

“It's lasagna, dad, Donna made it,” you said, serving him a portion of the dish that the lady had prepared.

“Lasagna,” your mother murmured, observing the plate with curiosity.

You nodded, glancing at the lady in black, who, to no one's surprise, didn't say a single word, just nodded slightly, remaining silent, which increased the tension of the meal even more.

“Mm, how do I know it's not poisoned?” your father asked, dipping his cutlery into the plate, distrustful.

“Dad,” you protested at his rudeness. “You just... eat and shut up.”

“Marcus, please...” your mother said, trying to save the situation.

It was a silent, tense, heavy lunch. The glances flew like constant knives between you.

“It's delicious, Lady Beneviento,” your mother said with a fake smile, making the lady look at her and nod reluctantly. “It looks like complicated to make.”

“Oh, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Donna is an excellent cook,” you commented. “Isn't that right, darling?”

The lady didn't move, she continued eating in silence, moving her veil a bit aside.

“Does she never take that thing off?” your father asked in an unpleasant tone, finishing his meal, which he seemed to have liked. “Hey, I'm talking to you.”

“Marcus, please,” your mother said, terribly scared by the way her husband addressed the Lord. “Show some respect.”

“Respect? Svetlana, that woman has taken our daughter,” your father growled, hitting the table with his fist, drawing the attention of everyone present. “You may be very powerful, Beneviento, but you're in my territory now.”

“Dad,” you said, scared by his attitude as the lady in black slowly raised her gaze, dropping her cutlery. “Don't talk to her like that.”

“Don't talk to her like that?” the man said, pointing at the lady with a fork. “What's wrong with you? Can't you talk?”

“Leave her alone,” you insisted, terribly nervous. “She doesn't talk to strangers.”

“Oh, um... the tomato sauce is homemade, right?” your mother asked, trying by all means to divert the conversation.

Donna looked at her and nodded slowly, but unable to suppress the trembling of her hands.

“You like my daughter, you like her body, how beautiful she is...” your father murmured, crossing his arms, with a look of absolute contempt. “You the Lords think you can do whatever you want why anyone, don't you? Even with an innocent girl.”

“Dad!” you shouted on the verge of a heart attack, and tears.

“Enough, Marcus,” your mother demanded, also hitting the table. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your forgiveness for my husband's attitude, it's just that…”

“Excuse me? She should be asking me for forgiveness. He sleeps with our daughter, Svetlana,” your father said, dragging his words. “What do you think will happen when she gets tired of her?”

“Can't you stop acting like an orangutan?” you said nervously. “She hasn't done anything for you to treat her like that.”

“She hasn't done anything,” your father said, with a mocking smile. “Come on, Beneviento, defend yourself, tell me I'm lying, say something, damn it, do you even know how to talk? Or do you only know how to screw up the life of a girl like (Y/N)?”

Donna reacted, abruptly getting up from the table, looking at your father, without saying anything, but clenching her fists, repressing her rage.

“No, no, no, Donna, honey, calm down,” you said nervously, grabbing the brunette by the shoulders. “Shh, calm down…”

“Stop it!” your mother shouted, standing up too. “Marcus, apologize! You're being unfair to her. We don't know what can happen to us if…”

“Mom!” you shrieked, not accepting the cautious attitude of the woman, who seemed to fear her, she was terribly afraid of Donna. “I'm starting to realize that it was a mistake to come here,” you hissed, throwing the napkin on the table and shaking your head.

“That woman is the mistake,” your father growled, making Donna turn around again, with a furious gasp.

“Let's go, Donna,” you said, taking the brunette by the arm and walking towards the exit.

“Hey! Are we leaving?” Angie protested, still playing with the children. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“Vai, Angie!” Donna squealed making the children back off with the first words the lady said.

The doll said goodbye to the children happily and walked next to you.

“Wait, (Y/N), you should stay,” Donna said, already outside the house.

“No, I'm not going to stay after what they did to you,” you said frowning. “Donna, I'm so sorry…”

“I'm used to this, tesoro… don't worry about me, stay with your family, I need to go home, I have to… relax…” the lady said, lifting your chin, giving you a quick kiss through her veil, walking away without letting you protest any further.

“Donna…” you said with a sob, letting your shoulders fall as your girlfriend walked away from you with a quick step. “Shit, shit…”

You stormed back into your house, slamming the door shut, scaring the kids even more.

“Are you happy?” you asked nervously, on the verge of tears. “Look what you’ve achieved!”

“That crazy bitch has left my house, I’m satisfied,” your father said in a cocky tone. “It’s over, (Y/N), she’s never coming back to that house again, do you hear me?”

“You haven’t even given her a chance!” you shouted, ignoring those banal threats. “You’re… Ugh!”

“Please, calm down, both of you,” your mother said, standing between the two of you before the shouting could escalate. “Marcus, you should be ashamed.”

“I don’t regret anything, Svetlana, I won’t tolerate that disgusting monster continuing to grope my daughter,” your father said, approaching threateningly.

“You’re a disgusting monster,” you muttered in childish rage.

“For Gods’ sake, that's enough,” your mother pleaded. “Please, let's talk things over, Marcus.”

“Leave me alone,” your father said, walking out the door, angry and furious.

You, silent, stunned just like your nephews, let yourself be seated on a chair, putting a hand on your forehead.

“Damn it...” you whispered, being comforted by the two children, who sat next to you and rubbed your back.

“I like her, I like your girlfriend, Aunt (Y/N),” Olga said, touching her new doll. “Grandpa has been mean to her.”

“Yes, Angie is great too, she hasn't tired of playing with us,” her brother said, excited about his racing car. “Do you think we can play with her again?”

“I don't know, Niko,” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the innocence of children, crying subtly.

“Children, go to your room,” your mother said with a serious gesture, pointing to a door.

The children nodded and obeyed with a sad look.

“I can't believe it, mom,” you whispered after a few seconds of silence.  “Was it so hard for you to behave like normal people for once?”

“Honey...” your mother sighed, coming a little closer. “You have to understand that for us it is a very complicated situation.”

“Complicated? Dad has been insulting Donna all the time for no reason,” you said angrily, arching your eyebrows. “And you did nothing but grovel before her because she terrifies you. If your plan is to ruin our relationship, you are on the right track.”

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed. “We care about you.”

“Cut the crap, mom, you haven't even given her the chance to prove that she is nice, that she takes care of me and…” you said, suddenly feeling terrible dizziness and intense chills.

“Are you okay?” your mother asked, scared by your immediate paleness. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“I-I don't know… I…” you said with a sudden tiredness, a terrible one along with a stabbing pain in your joints. “I…”

You couldn't say anything else, because everything went black.

“Stop talking nonsense, Marcus,” you heard your mother say when you were able to open your eyes.

Your whole body was weak, burning, you could barely move. You were tucked into your old bed and your father, nervous, paced from one side of the house to the other.

“I'm telling you that it's all that monster's fault, she must have poisoned her,” the man said, nervous, furious.

The darkness that could be seen through the window told you that it was already night, you don't know how long you had been unconscious.

“Mom…” you whispered with a weak voice, putting an end to those horrible insinuations. “What…? What happened to me?”

“Oh, (Y/N), you're awake,” she said, taking your burning hand. “Gosh, you have a high fever, you fainted.”

“Damn it…” you complained, realizing that Donna was right, you still hadn't recovered from the flu. “I-I have to…”

Before you could continue, the door sounded with a thunderous bang, causing your father to be on alert, grabbing a nearby shotgun.

“Marcus, what's wrong?” your mother asked, also scared.

“Stay here,” he said, approaching the door and taking a quick look. “You… Go away!”

“D-Donna…” you murmured when you saw the lady in black behind the door, making an impulse to move, which your mother stopped. ��Donna…”

“Didn't you hear me? We don't want you here. Get out or... or...!” your father shrieked, closing the door in her face.

“Dad... no,” you complained, reaching out your hand towards the open door of your room. “Donna...”

With a kick that could be comical, the lady in black didn’t accept the answer, opening the door abruptly, making your father step back and point the shotgun at her.

“D-Don't move...” the man said, trembling as Donna approached, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it without difficulty. “No, don't hurt me,” he said cowardly afterwards.

The lady ignored him, looking for something with her eye, looking for you. When she found, she didn't waste a second in running to your side, almost throwing herself onto the bed.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” she gasped nervously as your mother cautiously moved away. “Amore mio, what's happening? You didn't come home and…”

“She has a high fever,” your mother said dryly while your girlfriend checked it, caressing your forehead. “She has fainted.”

“What?” Donna asked. “Oddio… you're burning up…” she whispered.

“Wow, you sure know how to talk,” your father said, crossing his arms behind the door frame. “What have you done to my daughter, you psychopath?”

“Dad…” you moaned desperately at Marcus's inflexible attitude.

“We don't know what to do, my lady, the doctor is not in the village and we don't have money for…” your mother said, clasping her hands, with a look, not of terror, but of pity, of fear that something would happen to you.

“Telefono” the lady hissed, glancing at your mother through that dark veil.

Your mother shook her head, unable to understand her words, nervous, and now, frightened.

“Telefono! Porca puttana! A telephone!” the Lord demanded, causing the woman to instinctively protect herself, nodding and pointing to the required device.

Donna stepped aside, hitting your mother on the shoulder as she walked, dialing a number, the only possible one, the Duke’s.

Soon the merchant arrived with the medicines, but they would take a while to take effect. Your longed-for return home would have to wait a bit, but luckily, Donna and your mother took care of you in the meantime.

Tiredness made you fall asleep, with your hand held by the lady in black, who didn’t move from your side while she caressed you. At one point you woke up, but you decided not to open your eyes, you were very tired, weak.

“Excuse me, my lady,” your mother's voice interrupted that quiet moment, along with her footsteps on the old wood. “It's a very cold night, you could use some tea.”

“Grazie,” Donna whispered, nodding gratefully, or so you saw with your half-open eyes.

“(Y/N) sister's room is free, the children are gone... if you want you can rest,” the woman said, lowering her head and passing a hand over your forehead.

“No,” the lady said, coldly, turning her head back to you.

Your mother nodded, sitting down in another chair and letting a tense atmosphere of silence cover you completely. Your eyes danced with the temptation to close completely again, but you were alert, you had to be.

“(Y/N) is right, you are a woman of few words,” your mother said after a few minutes that seemed eternal.

Donna turned slowly to look at her, but only briefly.

“I-I don't mean it's a bad thing, it's wise to be cautious with words,” she said again in the absence of a verbal response from the hierarch, who sighed annoyed by the situation. “I-I've prepared some hot soup for when (Y/N) recovers, perhaps you would like some.”

“No,” Donna repeated, with a dark hiss, almost begging for your mother to leave you alone.

Your mother lowered her head, nodding slowly, obeying in a submissive way.

“My lady, I beg your pardon for our behavior. My husband and I are very sorry,” Svetlana said, forcing you to stop pretending and intervene.

“Come on,” you said, groaning and opening your eyes, hurt, but completely conscious.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, caressing your cheek. “Don't get up, per favore,” she whispered to you in a tender voice, laying you back down on the bed.

“Mom, who are you trying to fool? Dad has pointed a damn shotgun at my girlfriend,” you protested, fighting against the lady's attempts to cover you well with the sheets.

“Shh, taci, amore mio,” Donna said in a sweet voice, not caring that a villager like your mother heard her. “It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters to me is that you recover so we can go home.”

“Home…” you gasped, giving in and letting her take care of you in bed. “For a moment I thought I had dreamed it all, that you weren't here.”

“Of course I'm here, tesoro,” your girlfriend said, getting a little closer while you reached out your hand clumsily, brushing the veil.

“I ​​hate seeing you with that on,” you commented amused, making a shy laugh come out of her black veil as well.

“Shh, don't talk, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek and checking that your clumsy caresses hadn't uncovered her face. “You've already taken the medicine, now you have to rest so that the fever goes down completely.”

“Mm…” you murmured, glancing sideways at your mother. “Mom…”

“Hi honey… I'm here,” the woman said, bringing her hand closer to yours. “Thank Gods you feel better…”

“Your mother has prepared a soup for you, I think you should have some,” Donna said, with an irresistible voice that would melt any metal.

“My lady, would you be so kind as to take care of…?” your mother asked with a trembling voice, bringing the plate closer to the lady in black, who took it without hesitation, nodding. “I better… leave you two alone…” she said after, making a ridiculous bow and leaving the room.

“Are you comfortable?” Donna asked, helping you to sit up and bringing you a spoonful. “It smells very good.”

“My mother cooks well, although not as well as you,” you joked a little, letting the soup soothe your throat. “I'm convinced that she's dying to ask you for the lasagna recipe.”

“Mm,” she murmured, helping you to eat. “She's dying for me to disappear from your life, (Y/N).”

“Donna…” you sighed with a sad voice. “You don't know how sorry I am.”

“I've already told you that it doesn't matter,” she answered, cleaning you lovingly with a napkin. “The prejudices in this village are strong, it's not their fault.”

“No, my love,” you corrected, with tears in your eyes. “I'm so sorry I asked you to come. I should have known it was a bad idea.”

“Don't apologize. I know how important your family is to you. It hurts me to say it, but Angie was right. Just because it was a mistake doesn't mean it wasn't the right thing to do, (Y/N)” she said, while continuing to take care of you.

“You always do the right thing, don't you?” she asked, letting you fall back onto the mattress, pleasantly warmed by that soup. “Donna, it makes me so helpless that people don't know what you're really like…”

“I'm not a good person, (Y/N), I've done horrible things, I've killed, I've spread terror with my siblings. I don't deserve for you to try to make others see me the same way you do,” Donna said, settling you down again.

“But it's just that…” you sighed, taking her hand, squeezing it with all the strength you had. “I see you, Donna, and I see you are not that horrible person you think you are. I see you as you really are, your way of loving… I see the person you want to be, what you are when you are with me and…”

“You left (Y/N) alone, with her!” your father's screams interrupted that romantic moment, bouncing off the walls.

“Marcus, please! You've caused enough trouble!” your mother shouted, making you both look at each other in silence, listening. “Do you know how much that medicine cost? We could never have afforded it.”

“Svetlana, I can't believe you're so impressed with a Lord’s money,” Marcus growled. “She wants the girl alive, she needs her alive…”

“Stop talking nonsense and behave like what you are!” your mother responded, catching your attention even more. “You're her father, Marcus. Her happiness is what should matter to you, not nonsense about monstrous Lords.”

“She's a monster!” he shrieked, making Donna move, squeezing your hand as she trembled from the pain of those words. “She's…!”

“Sometimes you are unbearable, Marcus, she is your daughter's girlfriend, and you better go in there and apologize to Lady Beneviento, and thank her for taking care of your daughter like we were never able to do,” your mother demanded, making you smile.

“But...”

“Do it! Or we will lose our daughter forever. Open your eyes, dear. You have seen that this woman is not as the rumors say. Fix things, Marcus, or your daughter won’t be the only thing you lose tonight,” your mother threatened, leaving behind her words an uncomfortable halo of silence.

Donna lowered her gaze, shaking her head softly at hearing those insults, those words that were only based on opinions, unfounded or not, about a completely different woman, about a Donna Beneviento who didn’t know what love was.

A few seconds later, the door opened and your father entered the room, head down, scratching the back of his neck. Donna, startled, stood up from her chair, ready to fight your father's ignorance again.

“Lady Beneviento,” your father whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, relieved to see you awake. “I have one question, just one, and I demand…I want you to answer me.”

The lady nodded slowly, keeping her composure.

“Do you love my daughter? Do you really love (Y/N)? Will you take care of her?” the man asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, that's a lot of questions,” you interrupted.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, gesturing for you to remain silent.

“I do,” Donna answered, dryly, but self-assured.

Your father sighed, glancing at your mother out of the corner of his eye and taking a breath, slowly extending his hand towards the brunette, with a look of distrust.

“(Y/N) loves you, and it seems that you have managed to convince my wife, but be clear about one thing, Beneviento, it will take me a while to trust you. But I may change my mind if you give me, right now, your word,” your father said, challenging Donna with his gaze, who was surely doing the same.

The brunette didn’t hesitate and extended her hand towards his, shaking it silently, slowly moving it away and maintaining that defiant look that you knew wasn’t threatening at all.

“Good,” he said, nodding satisfied. “I hope your status as a Lord will serve to keep my girl away from all the evils of this village. My home is your home, my lady.”

“Dad, you are great,” you said amused. “Hey, Donna, he did the best he could, really.”

The lady looked at you and nodded, sitting back down in her chair and taking your hand. You breathed easily for the first time.

You knew it was a temporary truce, but Donna would know how to handle it, how to convince your father, without needing any words, that she was the best thing that could happen to you, that she deserved you. Besides, your nephews seemed to take a liking to her, to her and to Angie, as your mother did.

Ahead of you, there was a promising future.

“Tomorrow morning we will return home, okay, my love?”  you whispered, proud of Donna’s composure, of her integrity, of not being able to hurt anyone, your family, even if they thought she was a monster.

“Well, everything is settled,” your mother said, with the same relieved smile. “My lady, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions about that… lasagna…”

[lh44girl]

“A Fateful Encounter in Dubai”

It was a warm morning in Dubai, and Lewis Hamilton was enjoying a quiet, low-key brunch at a cozy Egyptian restaurant with his friends and his beloved bulldog, Roscoe. Just days before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, he was savoring this rare moment of calm—a break from the flashing cameras and roaring crowds. The scent of cardamom coffee and spiced falafel filled the air, and laughter drifted through the open windows.

As they laughed and ate, Roscoe, usually as calm as his owner, suddenly perked up, his ears twitching, eyes fixed across the terrace. Without warning, he bounded up, surprising everyone, and trotted over to a nearby table. There sat a young woman, enjoying a simple breakfast, absorbed in her own world. Roscoe reached her, sat down at her feet, and looked up at her with a steadfast, almost knowing gaze, as if he’d been waiting to meet her all along.

Startled, the woman looked down at him, then broke into a gentle smile. She bent down, scratching him behind the ears, and Roscoe seemed delighted, his little tail wagging with pure joy.

Noticing the unusual scene, Lewis quickly got up and walked over, a little concerned. He knew that dogs weren’t always welcomed in some cultural contexts, especially among Muslims, who sometimes keep a respectful distance due to religious beliefs. As he approached, he saw the woman’s face light up as Roscoe continued to nuzzle her leg, refusing to leave her side.

“I’m so sorry,” Lewis said, chuckling nervously. “Roscoe doesn’t usually, well… he doesn’t usually take to people like this.”

The young woman looked up, her eyes bright with amusement. “It’s alright,” she replied, laughing. “I don’t mind , I love dogs. He’s really sweet.”

Lewis grinned, surprised but relieved. “He’s usually a great judge of character, so… you must be something special.”

She giggled, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Well, thank you, Roscoe. I guess I’m honored,” she said, giving Roscoe another affectionate pat.

Lewis was intrigued; something about her was magnetic, though it took him a moment to really take it in. Her laughter was light and genuine, her smile easy and warm. Her aura was calm but full of life, a quiet beauty that seemed effortlessly charming. Roscoe, typically indifferent to strangers, sat glued to her side, as if he’d found a long-lost friend.

“You’re not from here, are you?” Lewis asked, feeling a strange eagerness to keep the conversation going.

“No,” she said, a bit coyly. “I’m actually here visiting friends . I am living between London & Cairo but I’m originally from Egypt.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, nodding. “The Egyptian restaurant and all.” He gestured to her untouched coffee. “May I join you for a bit?”

She smiled, nodding. “Please do. I could use some company.”

As they talked, Lewis found himself more and more captivated. She was easygoing, intelligent, and had a warmth that felt different from the world he was used to. There was no need to impress her with his fame or his trophies—she seemed genuinely interested in who he was, not what he was known for.

Roscoe remained beside her, happily lounging at her feet, his eyes content and half-closed. For Lewis, it was a sign, something beyond coincidence. He’d always trusted Roscoe’s instincts, and the little bulldog’s approval felt like fate nudging him forward.

As they laughed and shared stories, Lewis found himself thinking that this wasn’t just a random encounter. Maybe, just maybe, he’d stumbled upon someone who was more than a fleeting moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d met someone truly rare—a woman with a kind, open heart, someone who, like Roscoe, seemed to recognize the good in him right from the start.

[stunie]

hiyaaa i didn't know how i should respond to ur reblog of my commentary on your hq+thighs post but i'm just glad my blabbering made you happy in some way! just wanted to revisit it to show it proper appreciation. you're such a sunny positive presence on here and tysm for the fantastic filth that was that hc collection. i'm still beaming that you added in ushiwaka from my comment when i was still just a random new follower! sending hugs <3

HIHIIIIII omg can i call you yam ?? IT MADE ME SO HAPPY. i was really nervous writing for haikyuu omg. it meant very much to me > < i’ve read your tags over and over since then !! ALSO. A SUNNY POSITIVE PRESENCE IS SOOOOO SWEET OF YOU TO SAY. that has me smiling so harddmdmdm i love you ALSO . moot !! new moot !! is that okay ?!

[theladyinwhite13]

guys i like really really love brat does everyone know this about me yet?