#oh!! these two are finally getting along (⌒▽⌒) glorious day!!!

[yoiisa]

Hi!!!! I just wanna say i adore how you write for the wb boys, can i request them ( suo, sakura, nirei n sugishita ) courting the reader? headcannons if you may:3 thank you!!

ofc ofc! ( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ

➜ suo hayato is the gentleman of the year ➜ he knows flowers, as seen when he visits that old man with tsubaki, so pictures this: a tiny bouquet ➜ EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. ➜ roses, lilies, tulips, whatever you could possibly picture he delivers ➜ he also writes notes to go with them ➜ when you ask him what it means, he just pats your head and ignores the question. after all, what's the harm in a little tease?

"Oh, she's back!" you hear someone shout as you open the door to the classroom. "[name]! There's a present for you~" Present? You rip open the wrapper for your red bean bun and take a bite as you walk towards your desk. As you swallow your food you ask, "Present?" "Someone from bofurin came by today! He had an eyepatch!" your friend explains, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She and a few other girls start pushing you towards your desk, trying to get you to see the gift quicker. "Hurry up! Go look!" As your eyes finally fall on your desk, you can't help the slight blush that creeps onto your face, as well as the small smile. A small bouquet of three red tulips and two white ones rests on your desk, as well as a small notecard folded up. On the front, all there said was Hayato ♡. As you pick up the tulips, running your fingers along the edges of the petals, you hear someone behind you go, "I want a boyfriend so bad~" "Well," you say with a soft giggle, turning around to look at the small group of girls crowding you, "he's not my boyfriend. Not yet at least." They stare at you dumbfounded before one of them practically shouts, "The fuck you mean he's not your boyfriend! Girl get him before someone else swoops in, what are you doing?!" You nod absentmindedly as you open the notecard. You smile falls and your eyes widened as you read over Suo's scrawls. You feel your cheeks warm as you look up and out of the window. Nirei and Sakura stand at the edge of the courtyard arguing, while Suo stares up you, hope glowing in his soft gaze. When you nod, gifting him with an elated grin, his mouth parts in a relieved smile and all he can think is one glorious thought: Finally. You're mine.

➜ sakura haruka is lost. completely and totally lost ➜ he considers going to suo or nirei, or even hiragi for advice, but decides that doing so would result in him dying of embarrassment ➜ as a result, he goes to kaji for help instead ➜ but it's like dumb and dumber of romance with the two of them, so it just ends up turning into a big mess when he finally makes a move on you ➜ but the whole situation is so uniquely sakura you can't help but find it endearing in the end, and ultimately, it ends up with you two getting together anyways

"Are you sure this'll work?" Sakura asks as Kaji drapes an acoustic guitar over Sakura's shoulders "You've been practicing, haven't you?" Kaji asks. When Sakura nods, Suo snickers from the corner of the room. Nirei swats his arm as Sakura shoots him a withering glare, but Kaji grabs Sakura's face and redirects his attention. "Ignore them, just focus on her," he commands, and Sakura nods seriously. It's six o'clock, and the entire first year classroom is decorated with electronic candles and rose petals. Suo, Kiryu, Nirei, and Tsuguera helped kick everyone out and decorated the place while Kaji helped Sakura practice the guitar. The entire time, Suo kept trying to hint at Sakura that this was too much, but the other boy kept brushing it off. If he wanted Suo's advice he would've just gone to Suo. This crush had been going on for too long and finally Sakura had managed to muster up the courage to deal with it. If you rejected him . . . he didn't know how he'd manage. When you walk in, Sakura short circuits. He bumbles his way through the song, his voice occasionally going pitchy and his fingers clumsy on the guitar strings. As you blink at him, walking down the pathway of rose petals, he can feel his heart aching more and more. This was stupid. This was the stupidest way for him to confess to you. What the fuck had Kaji been thinking? What the fuck was he thinking?! This wasn't going to work, this was going horribly, he fucked it all up, why would you ever- Suddenly, your hand lands on his, stilling his strumming, his heart actually breaks. He thinks he might cry, but from the way you're looking at him, a loving smile, eyes shimmering with happy tears, he stalls. "I'll go out with you Haru," you say. "Please stop singing now." The boys watch from the hallway windows, their eyes worried and anxious to see your reaction. But then, they see you taking the guitar off of Sakura, and hugging him, and they all breathe out a sigh of relief, Kaji especially. "Why are you so surprised that this worked?" Nirei admonishes. "You almost killed him in there!"

➜ nirei akihiko spends a solid month writing out plans in his notebook before he makes any move on you ➜ that and he goes to kiryu for advice almost religiously ➜ kiryu becomes like the pope of romance to nirei, and he takes his word as gospel ➜ when he tries to confess to you the way kiryu suggests though, it puts you off because it's so disingenuous to nirei's true nature ➜ it's a little messy, but eventually the two of you work it out

Nirei nods emphatically. "Okay, got it. Plushes. What else?" He's like a duckling, trailing after Kiryu. Suo and Sakura stare at him pitying, and Kiryu feels like sponge drained of all information he can give. Tsuguera takes a sip of his protein shake and claps Nirei on the back. "You got this man, just be yourself." "No! Kiryu, please I need more help-" "Nirei," Kiryu says, his smile tight and his voice clipped. "I told you everything I could've possibly told you. There's nothing more. Now, go confess to her already. I need a break." Kiryu slumps against Sakura, who blushes bright red and shoves Kiryu onto Suo. Nirei looks down at his notebook and sighs. His notes are messy black ink scribbles. They take up two whole pages, but he still feels like it isn't enough. Never mind that though, it's now or never. The next day, Nirei invited you to go to the park. The sight that meets you is . . . a one to behold for sure. Nirei has clip on piercings, his hair tied back, silver gothic chains around his neck, eyeliner on his waterline, and is sitting on a picnic blanket with food from Pothos. But that's not even it. Along one of the sides of the picnic blanket is a stuffie of literally every single Sanrio character that possibly could exist. Hello Kitty, Keroppi, Pochacco, Pompompurin- "Sit down, please," Nirei invites, gesturing across from him. You sit and fold your hands in your lap, feeling out of place to say the least. Nirei serves you some food and you eat in mostly silence, before he starts his speech. It's pretty . . . and sounds nothing like Nirei at all. It's like he had Kiryu as a ghost writer or something. When he finally finishes and asks if you'll be his girlfriend, you disappointedly ask, "Am I going to be Kiryu's girlfriend, or your's, Akihiko?" When Nirei stares at you blankly, looking a bit like a kicked puppy, you sigh. You take his hand in yours and squeeze. "I'd love to date Nirei Akihiko . . . not this weird thing he's acting like. So next time ask me like my Akihiko, okay?" The next day, he does the confession right: after he walks you home, he asks shyly, but it's a hundred percent him. You hug him and nod, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

➜ sugishita kyotaro is the same as nirei, but instead of kiryu, he turns to umemiya ➜ but umemiya actually kinda sucks at romantic advice though . . . so sugishita is promptly redirected to tsubaki ➜ tsubaki . . . who has been waiting for a chance like this ➜ he had full on board meetings with sugishita, umemiya and the other devas ➜ sugishita is immensely uncomfortable sharing this much of his personal life with all of these other people, but at least he's getting advice, so he just shuts up and deals with it

"And then-" Tsubaki starts, but Takumi cuts him off with a "Oh, but wouldn't it be nice if Sugishita gave her a portrait? Really capture [name]'s beauty like that?" Tsubaki considers this before Saku reminds Sugishita, "Make sure it's not too flashy. Generally that doesn't go very well in the first move. Wait until the fourth or fifth month anniversary for that." Hiragi grumbles and says, "You guys are assuming he'll make it to the five month mark? Aren't you getting too ahead of yourselves? He hasn't even confe-" "Don't say such things Hiragi!" Umemiya admonishes. "He needs encouragement right now, not to be put down!" "I'm not putting him down, I'm being realistic!" "Guys, please stop fighting-" Tsubaki cuts in, but Umemiya and Hiragi just keep on. Sugishita sighs as he watches his upperclassmen go at it. He knew he shouldn't have told anyone about his crush. Dragging other people into his business was only going to make things more complicated. He'll just keep his emotions buried deep inside his chest forever and ever, and one day he'll die and none of it will even matter anymore. He stands to leave, but just as he starts walking to the door to the roof, it swings open and you step out. You look up at him and smile. "There you are. I got excused from school for a doctor's appointment, but I finished it a little bit ago. I figured I'd come see you." You peak over his shoulder to see all the devas and Umemiya staring you down, with an intense look. As if they're expecting something to happen? "Are they okay?" you ask, pointing at the older boys. Your eyes widen as you see Sugishita's eyes boring into yours and his face turning red. "Go out with me," he chokes out through his embarrassment. "I like you. Go out with me." You blink up at him blankly, taken aback completely by his sudden confession. You hear Tsubaki add in a tiny, "Please," before you giggle and take Sugishita's hand in yours. "Okay, Kyo, where should we go?" You lead him off the roof. As he's closing the door behind him, Sugishita sees Umemiya wiping a happy tear of his face, looking like the proudest parent in the world. "Ahh, they grow up so fast," he says as he turns away from the door. "No thanks to you," Hiragi scoffs.

A/N: oof idk why but Nirei's took forever to write lmao. Anyways, good news! exams are all done, so we're gonna be back to regularly scheduled fics!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

(C'mon, baby) light my fire

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 2

Prompt: Fireplace

Rated: T

Tags: Getting together; Flirting; Sexual tension; Eddie is a horny shit; He also has a competency kink

Eddie’s eyes are stinging.

There’s tears streaming down his cheeks and soot on his face and ash in his hair. He’s pretty damn sure he singed his bangs. He takes a desperate inhale, breath rattling in burning lungs, and blows out another stream of air. 

“C’mon,” he wheezes. “Shit, c’mon, please.”

The log crackles and gleams red-orange, and his heart soars- … and then it turns gray again. 

“Motherfucker!” Eddie swears, flopping down into the stupidly soft, white sheepskin rug. He probably got ash on that, too. 

He wastes a few seconds staring morosely at the dark fireplace. 

When Steve suggested this little retreat to his parents’ log cabin (of course the Harringtons own a private fucking log cabin, he doesn't know why he was even surprised), he thought he'd spend a relaxed few days. Chug a few beers, smoke a blunt or two, ogle Steve in his stupid, cozy sweaters while the firelight danced on his skin. Indulge his silly crush a little. 

And then the others all canceled. Something about Robin needing to take care of a sick aunt, and Nancy being offered an important internship, and Argyle and Jonathan… well, he isn't sure what they're up to. He stopped listening by the time Steve asked if he would be fine with it being just the two of them. 

Surely, this was a sign. The universe telling him to finally make a move. An opportunity too good to pass up on. 

So he agreed.

They drove out in the Beemer, Steve obnoxiously singing along to Wham and Eddie pretending he was anything but enamored by his smiling face against the backdrop of the snowy landscape flying by. They arrived and unpacked their stuff, and Steve insisted Eddie take the master bedroom, like the perfect sweetheart he is. Then, he took Eddie outside and made him sit down while he chopped firewood. 

Dear God, he chopped firewood. 

Eddie thinks the image of Steve swinging that ax, getting progressively more flushed and sweaty, breath fogging around him in the winter air, is gonna stay ingrained in his memory for the rest of his life. Not that he's complaining. 

When they came back inside, Steve excused himself to have a shower. And maybe it’s because an idiot, or maybe it’s because half of his brain was occupied watching the tiny bead of sweat clinging to the tendon on the side of Steve’s neck, but Eddie told him to take his time, he’d get the fireplace going in the meantime. In his mind’s eye, he was already picturing the two of them on the fuzzy sheepskin rug, huddled together under one of the knitted afghans. Laughing, talking, and munching on s’mores, soft music playing in the background. Slipping his hand into Steve’s, watching a whole different kind of blush spread on that handsome face as he leaned closer to finally, finally show him exactly how he feels. 

It sounded like a great fucking plan. 

Except for the part where he obviously can’t light a fire to save his goddamn life.

He’s just wondering if maybe he should call Wayne and ask for help when the bathroom door clicks shut behind him. 

“Oh hey,” Eddie rasps, voice all hoarse and scratchy from inhaling too much smoke, “Fire’s almost-” 

And then he freezes. 

Steve stares back at him, eyes wide with concern, brows almost disappearing under the swoop of his wet, disheveled fringe. He’s wearing the same light-wash jeans from earlier, and a towel around his shoulders. 

That’s all. 

“Eddie?” he asks. Like he’s surprised to see him here. Or maybe like he isn’t sure it’s him at all. He’s probably hard to recognize with all the soot on his face. “What are you- … What the hell happened?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie says. There’s tiny droplets of water hanging off the tips of Steve’s hair, running down his collarbone, catching in those glorious tufts of chest hair. He must be cold. Eddie should pull him down in front of the crackling flames, tell him he knows just the thing to warm him back up. Except he can’t get the goddamn fire lit. “Fire won’t start. Your wood must be soggy or something.” 

Steve’s eyebrows, impossibly, climb higher. His mouth twitches into a grin. 

“Hey now,” he says. “I didn't invite you here to have my wood insulted.”

Eddie thinks that maybe he should hurl himself into the fireplace, ignite the damn log with the force of his blush. While he’s still busy sputtering and wrecking his brain for a witty reply, Steve huffs a soft laugh and pads over on naked feet.

“Here, let me,” he says, snatching the pack of matches from Eddie’s limp fingers. He fiddles around for a bit - the specifics of what he does are admittedly lost on Eddie, who is too transfixed watching the way Steve’s ass strains against the confines of his jeans. Seconds later, the room is filled by the light of a small fire merrily crackling away. 

“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie wheezes, tugging a strand of hair in front of his face to hide behind. It’s littered in gray flakes of ash. Steve smiles and reaches out to brush them away. 

“One thing after the other,” he says, and maybe it's the heat of the fire, but Eddie imagines the blush makes a reappearance. “For now, how about you finally kiss me?” 

“I'd love to,” Eddie says. “Except I probably taste like charco- oooh, wait, whoa, hold on a sec, what the fuck do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Steve says, leaning closer and bracketing his hands on Eddie’s thighs, “that I went through all the trouble of arranging this, telling the others to stay away, putting on that little show with the ax … You'd think I deserve a reward, right?” 

More holiday drabbles

Turns out he was wrong, Eddie thinks as their lips brush and they topple down into the fuzzy rug. Someone has definitely been sending him signals - it just wasn't the universe. 

[bwobgames]

She decides to hang out with a friend!

Which is. A bit of a shame since everyone seems to be somewhere else.

Which is why, the wonders of technology!

She looks at her phone and sees a clear lack of signal. So that’s how it is huh.

But, she also sees some unread notifications from a dear friend.

She puts the phone close to her ear and hears the first of multiple voice messages.

“Hey girl! How are things going? Please tell me if the train is any good I’m dying for a quick escapade. If I hear anyone else try to explain to me how the stock market works, I’m going to be on the news.”

“Is my baby okay? Did he shave that awful moustache? Please say yes.”

It’s Eva! Her friend from work!

A fellow young mind wanting to live it up in the world of business, although unlike Mari, she had some family capital with her already.

Probably why she always managed to stay cheery even while taking difficult business decisions.

Before Nina stepped in, Eva was her one ally in the rough path of maternity, picked up the slack when Eugene got bored of taking care of his pregnant wife, as he does. Although due to her international responsibilities, she wasn’t available as much as she wanted.

Until Eva suddenly showed up with a baby of her own.

They made a glorious system. When Eva had to travel, Mari and Nina would take care of Owen. And when Mari and Nina were too overwhelmed by work, Eva would look after them.

And of course, they all got to have play dates together!

She’s a bit envious on how easy Eva could take care of 3 children. The second Nina was out of the picture Marigold started to struggle.

It seems that pure unfiltered love is not enough to stop children from chewing cables.

It takes a village, truly.

Of course, someone of Eva’s calibre could’ve just paid a nanny, but she wanted Owen to grow in an environment full of friends.

And when he already got those friends, boarding school it is. A boarding school the three of them got exact knowledge on who the teachers, the directors and even the janitors are.

At this point, those kids have 3 moms now.

“By the way, tell Nina her cake recipe is a godsend. I fought myself not to eat more than one piece of it and I lost. That wife of yours is gonna give me diabetes!”

For a long time, Eva thought Mari and Nina were already married. Which made for a very interesting situation when she finally saw Eugene at the house.

She called the cops.

Eva doesn’t know what happened at the mansion.

And if it were for Mari, it would stay that way.

Owen himself might tell her someday, but secretly, she hopes he doesn’t.

Eva already lost her husband; she doesn’t need to know her son died too.

Died under Marigold’s supposed watch…

She lied to her. She said she doesn’t know where Owen’s sudden aggravation of his storm fear came from. She said she can trust her with her son.

She refuses to break that promise again.

“Also, also, did Vivi go or not? If she did tell her I said hiiiii! If she didn’t tell her I said byeee! Oh, the two lovely boys as well!”

Ángel got along with her, he even played matchmaker with a friend of his! That cheeky little man.

“Bring me something yummy! Bring cheese! And meat! And many many drinks because I have gathered so much gossip you wouldn’t believe!”

She needs that information now.

“Alright I’ll leave you be, I’ll be watching your stocks from the sidelines, don’t worry. And! I booked a trip for the telescopes I was telling you about! This time I will not be stopped by sudden emergencies I swear! We will have a fun star gazing bonanza I swear!!”

“Okay byeeeee! buy me something nice, eat well, don’t let Owen convince you I allowed him to drink, don’t attack people and relax for once!!”

She’ll try.

But first, time to respond

“I need that information. I’ll get any and all drinks necessary, I need it. And I’ll be holding onto that promise, I want some stars!”

“Also, the TV show you recommended? I watched it all in 3 days. Amazing. The second I get signal and a private room I need to discuss it with you, or I’ll explode”

“Currently Owen still has that moustache and I’m afraid his mind is not going to change anytime soon. My condolences.”

“Everyone says hi and they miss you! If they don’t say it, I’ll make them.”

And for a final message, something important.

“That is all, I’ll call you later!”

It’s always nice to catch up with friends, even with both of them being busy working women, they always find time for a tea break.

Which sounds like a great idea right now! Relaxing tea adventure!

Until a pink haired creature finds her.

<PREV START NEXT>

[uravitsy]

‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT TWO.

summary. gojo relives his memories with you, getting closer to acceptance. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT ONE : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

Gojo danced his fingertips across your bare skin. the pads of his thumbs pressing into your flush thighs before dipping in between your legs. He watched as you continued to sleep, your chest rising and falling peacefully. your skin was still covered with love bites and marks from the passionate night before. Hair spread widely against the silk pillowcase as goosebumps appeared on your skin from being touched by Gojo's cold hands. 

With a smile, Gojo lowered himself down, spreading your legs to put one of your thighs over his shoulder so he had full access to your lady parts. Without hesitation he teasingly glides his warm tongue along your folds, making you squirm and try to close your legs in reflex but Gojo's grip forcibly kept them open. 

He moaned into your pussy, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to the point where you were lifting your hips up from the bed slightly, trying to move away from the overwhelming pleasure but gojo kept you in place, forcing you to take all that he was giving you on this lazy sunday morning. 

"Satoru," you moaned his name tiredly, your head falling back on the pillows as you relaxed.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Gojo lifts his head up to look at you, biting your inner thigh.

"i'm still so sore and sensitive from yesterday.." you let out a blissful sigh as Gojo teased your clit with a flick of his tongue, a shiver going down your spine, "mm."

"I'll take care of you," His words were sweet like honey and his touch was like silk. it made you melt into the mattress, ultimately giving your body to him with such trust you wouldn't give to anyone else, "That's my good girl."

With a loud moan, you let Gojo take you to the world of bliss. It was nice to have him to yourself for a change since he'd been so busy at his job. You found yourself getting lost into piles of work as well, pursing your dreams with such vigor that it made you not have time in your calendar for your boyfriend. But you weren't going to let that stop you, to let it consume you to the point where your relationship with Gojo would grow strained. 

So you made the time, the effort, to see him more and now here you two were, rolling around in the sheets for the past five days to make up for lost time. 

You couldn't ask for anything else on such a glorious sunday morning. It was perfect. He was perfect.

"Parmesan cheese?" You asked Gojo as your back was facing him, continuing to plate his pasta that was fresh off the stove, "Satoru?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes, thank you." Gojo tossed his mail across the table before leaning back in his chair.  You gladly served him his food with a nice tall glass of water but not without raising an eyebrow in question.

"What was it?" Humming, you take a sip of your own water as you pick up the envelope before reading the top, "Jujustu high...? isn't that the school you went to? why are they sending mail after all these years?" 

"For a job offer," Gojo did well to hide most of his life with you and he wasn't going to let the wall crumble now. it was too dangerous for you to know anything about what he and others were capable of, "I already said no but they are persistent. besides, what do i look like teaching a bunch of kids?"

You couldn't help but let out a sad chuckle. Gojo was indifferent when it came to children and made it made it very clear throughout the five years you two been dating. He said they were annoying brats that he didn't have time for and over time you hoped his perspective changed, especially now that you were— never mind that, what were you going to do? What were you going to tell him?

"It might be a good opportunity," You try to reason with him, "You said that you were sick of this job you had now anyway. maybe a change will do you good, you should consider it."

"You make a good point."

You push your own feelings aside as you give him a bright smile, "Now don't wait up for me. I have this job interview and then a few errands to run. I'll see you later tonight, I'm thinking chinese?" Gojo followed you down the hall with a knowing smirk. He watched as you put your shoes on and grab your keys that were hanging on the hook by the door, "Unless you want something else then text me, I can always make—"

You were interrupted with a kiss. Gojo and your lips moving together in sync until you both were breathless. after a few moments, Gojo pulled away with a teasingly smile, a bit of pasta sauce still on the corner of his mouth from eating like a starved child. 

"You're too good for me," Your boyfriend says honestly, his bright colored eyes looking upon you like you were his whole world, "I love you (y/n)."

"And I ove you too," And you meant that with every fiber of your being. You move Gojo's white hair away from his eyes, your hand resting on his cheek for a second too long as if to savor this moment between you. If you could freeze time it would be right for this moment, "i'll see you later, yeah?"

"Of course sweets," Gojo kisses the top of your head, confused by the pit of dread that he felt in his stomach. Why did he feel so bad all of a sudden? Why didn't he want to let you go? If only he knew that that was his inner voice warning him, telling him to stop the unthinkable. If only he would've known better then— maybe you'd still be by his side, "Get going so you can come back to me, I'll be so boooooored without you!"

"You could, I don't know, go to work?" You tease him, knowing that it was his day off. lucky him, "Not everyone has such a privilege like you, enjoy it! call geto or something."

"He's the last person I want to see!" Gojo lets out an annoyed huff, "Why can't you call off?"

"Goodbye Satoru," And with that you closed the door behind you. Your light and sweet aura going with you, leaving the place feeling cold and empty. Why didn't he stop you from leaving? Why did he just watch you leave? He blamed himself. He blamed himself for everything. 

"And so," Mrs.Shoko smiled at you as she tapped on resume, "You've been accepted for the position," her words left you nearly gawking, "we can get your office set up as soon as possible. How does Monday sound?"

"M-Monday?" you were still reeling from the shock, "That's perfect! Thank you so much for this opportunity!" Shaking her hand vigorously, you couldn't help but bow in thanks.

"I take it you'll be ready to relocate to Tokyo? I know it's quite far but—"

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes!" This was your dream job after all; Gojo would understand. You both talked about the endless possibilities, and this was one of them. You couldn't turn it down, not when you were so close to achieving what you had worked all your life for.

"So? What did you say?" Mrs. Yamada could hardly take the suspense as she set down a plate of finger sweets in front of you. "You've been telling me about this job for months."

"Of course, I said yes!" You smiled as you thanked her for the snacks, not wasting a second before stuffing your face. "Now I have to talk to Gojo."

"Speaking of him, have you told him yet?" Mrs. Yamada turns her sign to closed before taking a seat across from you, nodding in approval as you pour the both of you tea politely. The porcelain teapot weighed a bit heavy in your hands. "It won't be long before you can't hide it anymore, you know."

"I know," you instinctively place your hand on your stomach with a soft smile, "I'll tell him everything today! I'll get ingredients to make his favorite meal and pick up some of those sweets he likes at the candy shop by our house. It's a day for celebration after all… I just hope he sees it that way as well."

"You should have more faith in him," Mrs. Yamada takes a sip of her tea, "if he loves you, it won't be an issue."

"You're right," you said before checking the time on your phone. It was past 6, and you were sure Gojo was waiting up for you to hear the good news. And you wanted nothing more than to skip home. "Ah, Mrs. Yamada, as always I enjoyed talking to you but—"

"Go on now, you don't have to keep this old lady company anymore," she teases.

"Whatever you say, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Of course, I can't seem to shake you off me."

"And you never will!" You laugh at the banter between you both before leaving the flower shop with a single flower in hand. You made your way to the nearest grocery store to pick up the ingredients for tonight's dinner, leaving with a few bags that took up almost all of your right arm.

While you were in the grocery store, the weather changed drastically. The once clear blue skies turned to a dark grey, the sudden flashes of lightning brightening the dark street as it began to pour down rain. You groaned, annoyed with the fact that you didn't have an umbrella on you. You were tempted to go back into the store to buy one, but your home was just right around the corner.

Your phone started ringing suddenly, making you rummage around in your purse to find it, the familiar name of: Gojo 🤍 popping up on your screen. "Hey, babe!"

"(Y/N)! It's raining super hard; I can come pick you up."

"I'm almost home. But guess what? I got the job!"

It was just a short two-minute walk from here, and the candy shop lights were still on, lighting up the whole street with its neon sign. You figured that you'd stop to get Gojo's sweets and rub the rest of the way home.

"Whaaaaaat?! I'm so proud of you! We have to celebrate."

"I'm one step ahead of you, Satoru! I also have some other news to share…"

A sudden flash had you squinting your eyes. The power box behind you sparking with electricity in the wake of being struck by lightning. You rushed to cross the street after looking both ways despite the rain fogging up your vision. Unbeknownst to the car that was coming toward you at full speed, the driver's vision obscured by the sudden flash of lightning that was too close for comfort.

All you saw in your final moments were bright headlights coming toward you. Then the world went black.

"(Y/N)? What was that? Are you okay?"

You couldn't move or see, but you could hear, and you could feel. You heard a person screaming for someone to call 911, you heard hurried footsteps around you as you laid against the cold gravel world, the energy to stay alive slowly leaving your body as you felt something tugging, pulling you toward an abyss of warmth and light.

"(Y/N)!"

Your groceries were scattered, and your favorite flower, that single flower, was still in your hands.

-

An officer leads Gojo down some stairs into a basement that was cold and damp. The air is thick with so much tension he thought he would suffocate. "I noticed it does more harm than good for the family member or… er, lover."

"I want to see her to make sure." To make sure of what? To make sure you were really dead? Yes, because quite frankly, he was in denial. It couldn't be you. Out of 7 billion people in the world, it wouldn't be you—it couldn't be you. He knew you'd pop back up and say this was all a joke.

Some sick, cruel joke.

The male officer leads Gojo through a freezing room with bodies on either side of him covered with a white sheet. The only parts of their bodies that were sticking out were their feet, with a large tag hooked around their big toe as if they were luggage.

Gojo's throat goes dry as the officer stops in front of a body, going around the metal table to slowly pull the white sheet back to reveal your lifeless body. "Can you identify her?"

"Yes," Gojo could only nod slowly, the words he wanted to say escaping from his lips like a forgotten memory. Out of reflex, Gojo smiles sadly as he looks down at you. He brings his hand up to stroke your hair, then your cold cheek, holding your once warm hand. "That's my (Y/N)."

"We're still investigating, but it's clear this was a hit and run," the officer continues his words with caution. "And I don't know if you knew, but by the autopsy report, she was five weeks pregnant."

Gojo feels like the wind got knocked out of him. "W-what?" he laughs then, this wasn't real. He was dreaming. When he woke up, you'd be right there next to him like you always would be. But no matter how many times he pinched himself, he couldn't wake up.

"I'll give you a few moments…" The officer leaves the room, his footsteps echoing throughout the large room.

Those few moments turned to hours. The hours turned to days. He couldn't leave your side, not when you were like this. Were you cold? You needed clothes. They had you in such an indecent way with other strangers. He was sure you'd be afraid and confused once you woke up; that's why he wanted to stay by your side.

When you wake up, he'd be right here assuring you that everything was alright.

When you wake up, he'd give you the longest kiss.

"Gojo-sensei?"

When you wake up, he'd hug you and never let go.

"Gojo-sensei?"

You weren't waking up, were you?

Megumi tugged on Gojo's pants leg, his small hand easily taking ahold of Gojo's as he took the flowers from Gojo, delicately placing the bouquet of your favorite flowers on top of your gravestone. Your parents started to walk away, your mother sniffling quietly as your father came to pat Gojo on the shoulder reassuringly. His silence spoke a thousand words as they left the graveyard.

Tsumiki, Megumi's sister, bends down to offer your spirit a plate of sweets. Humming a sad tone, she stands up to her full height, holding Gojo's hand in comfort as she cries softly. She sheds the tears that Gojo wouldn't, his face still holding no emotion as he mumbles a simple goodbye.

"Let's go," Gojo tells the children gently, sparing your headstone one last look before turning away. "How does ice cream sound? I'm craving something sweet."

The children give each other a concerned look, clueless as to why Gojo wasn't on his knees screaming his heart out at the unfairness of it all. But little did they know that he would, but only silently. Only when no one could hear or see him.

He did break. He did fall to his knees. He did cry.

He mourned for you, yearned for you, and begged whatever god that would listen to bring you back to him. But his cries would only fall on empty ears, leaving him to slowly wallow away. His heart forever shattered to where no one would be able to mend the pieces for him even if they tried—and he wouldn't even let them try since this heartbreak, this heartache, was a reminder of you.

He would rather have this pain that only the unlucky ones bear if it will forever serve as a memory of you.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✶ Bliss ✶

✶ Pairing: model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, smut

✶ Summary: Weeks of being caught between your two lovers, sitting idly by as your heart battles your head, must come to an end. You have to decide once and for all which door to leave open and which to close forever.

✶ Word Count: 2k-ish

✶ Warnings: a lil possessiveness, reader's getting over some insecurities, heartbreak, oral sex (f receiving), some strong language

✶ A/N: This is the last of a three-part series. You can find 🖤 part one here 🖤 It took me a bit to finish this because life was doing its thing but I'm happy with how it turned out so I hope you lovelies enjoy it!

You should’ve never come here. You should’ve stayed as far away from this man as possible. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. The reality is that you didn’t stay away. Hyunjin called and you came now you’re coming around his fingers, allowing yourself to be claimed once more by the lust filled demons of your past. And, oh, what a glorious one he is...

As he lulls you down from your high with gentle kisses along your neck, you await the intoxicating afterglow you’re accustomed to. Only there is no glow in the "after". It's dark and empty, Hyunjin’s words echoing through your mind on a loop.

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

It was such a rush the first time you realized how badly Hyunjin wanted you. He’d confessed to you front row at a fashion show. To anyone watching there was nothing notable about the quick whisper in your ear or the brushing of his hand across your knee. They couldn't fathom the way such small gestures had turned your world upside down.

You felt so special. Special enough to let him see you in secret with promises that one day you’d go public. Make things official. Be a real couple. Finally have the love story you dreamt of. 

“He can’t have you. I won’t let him.”

The undertone of toxic possessiveness sours the nostalgia sweetening this reunion, bringing you to a realization that has somehow eluded you up to this point. In his eyes, you’ll always be a thing. A precious thing, his absolute favorite thing, but always you belonging to him and never him to you. This is not your fairytale and he is not your prince.

“This can’t happen again” you sigh, pressing your hands to his chest to create distance between you. Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes at the foolishness of such a statement, “Will you say that next time too?” You could go back and forth with him, exchanging verbal jabs until he beats you into submission, but it’d be for nothing. 

“Take care of yourself, Hyunjin.” You smooth out your dress and throw your jacket back on, pushing past him with an indifference no one’s ever shown him before. Give him your love. Give him your hate. He can find a way to work with either one. Your indifference, on the other hand, is alien to him. It’s a savagely forged blade to his gut, slicing him open and leaving him to bleed out in the halls of his own exhibit.

“So you love him more? Is that it?” he calls out, catching you before you disappear forever. You pause, searching for the most honest answer that you can offer. “I love me more,” you say, shocked by your own words, “at least I want to love me more, and I need someone who makes that easy for me.”

“And he does?”

“Yes, actually, very much.” 

Thoughts of Minho wrap around you like a warm, fuzzy blanket making you crave his presence. Wherever he is, doing business in Seoul or on a shoot in LA, you want to be there. “Hyunjin, honey, people are pulling up!” his manager, a sharply dressed older woman in designer glasses, announces strutting through the doors. You peek outside to see how right she is. His adoring public is already arriving, ready to file in and shower him with enough affection to last a lifetime.

Not that any of it will ever be enough. Not when the only one who matters is about to walk out of his life. His manager looks you up and down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here. “I didn’t know we were opening early” she quips, cutting her eyes at you. “I’m leaving, actually.” “Oh, what a shame.” Hyunjin interrupts, nearly knocking into his manager to get to you, “See you around sometime?” “I'm sure you will.”

Waving goodbye to his manager before she sets you on fire with her mind, you throw yourself back out into the cold autumn night. As the door of the gallery shuts behind you, so does the door leading back to what you shared with Hyunjin. You know without question where your heart is. It’s not with him anymore and it never will be again.

“You want me to go hiking?” you ask, smiling politely at the waiter setting your plate down in front of you. “Thank you” Minho nods to the departing waiter before turning his attention back to you, “Yes, you. We can spend the whole weekend hiking and camping. It’ll be nice to get away, don’t you think?” You’ve never seen Minho this excited about anything. He may not show it on the outside but that little twinkle in his eye gives away how passionate he is about the trip and how much it'd mean to him if you came along.

Next week will be the first time in a while that you'll both be free of your hectic schedules and all he wants is to be with you. Of course, you want the same thing, even if you run the risk of being eaten alive by bugs in the process. “I think it’ll be wonderful” you agree, twirling food onto your fork, “Let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to wrestle a bear.” Minho nearly spits his drink out laughing, “Who said you had to wrestle a bear?” You grab a napkin, reaching across the table to wipe the wine from his chin.

“That’s what you do when you go camping right? Forage for food. Wrestle bears. Challenge mountain lions to a foot race. Survival show stuff.” Minho can’t find the words to explain how completely wrong that is, he’s too busy trying to keep it together in front of the other diners. Osteria Francescana is one of those restaurants that's impossible to get a reservation at unless you know someone. They won’t even put you in their book if you don’t meet the standards for their elite clientele.

It’s always made Minho uncomfortable to be in places like this. As gorgeous as it is, with its fancy menu and candlelit dining room, it’s not really his scene but tonight it has to be. He wants to ask you something. Something that has him nervous enough that he couldn’t touch his food if he wanted to. He thought that getting dressed up and taking you out on a romantic date might give him the courage to say it but he's quickly learned that it makes no difference. You scare the hell out of him all the same.

“Have you thought about us?” he asks, forcing himself to get it over with. You sense that something’s off. Not knowing what, you proceed with caution. “Thought about us as in...” Minho clears his throat, fidgeting with his rings. “Being together. Just me and you. I know that Hyunjin—” “Hyunjin isn’t anything to me,” you say, refusing to let him go any further. You knew that this would come up eventually. Minho never pressed you about your history with Hyunjin. He never asked if you still saw him or forced you to open up about your feelings but he was bound to get curious. It's only natural.

Maybe he’s been avoiding it, too afraid of what the truth might be, but there’s nothing to worry about. Not in the slightest. You lock eyes with him, taking his hand, “I love you, Minho. You’re the only one I want. I've known that for a while. I just didn’t wanna rush you.” Correction, talking about the camping trip isn’t the most excited you’ve ever seen him. This is. His ears are turning red and he can’t stop himself from smiling no matter how hard he tries.

“Rush me? No. I love you too. I always wanted—I do want—will you be my girlfriend?” “I’d love to be your girlfriend.” You rub your cheeks to chase away the tingly feeling coming over them. He asked you, he really asked you. Instead of stringing you along with only the hope of something serious, he went for it. It heals your wounded heart, wipes away some deep seated pain, to know that he loves you the way that you love him.

“We should do something to celebrate. What do you think?” “Hmm,” you muse, one of your high heels skimming the inside of his leg. Minho tilts his head to the side, glancing under the table and back up at you with a mischievous look on his face. “I wasn’t talking about that.” you scold, realizing too late what you’ve started, "Get your mind out of the gutter. No!"

Teetering on the edge of the black marble sink, you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making noise. Sneaking away from your table had been easier than you thought. No one seemed to notice you walking off to the bathroom or Minho slipping in behind you a few minutes later. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You shouldn’t be doing this and that’s precisely why it feels so damn good to do it.

Any worries you have about getting caught disappear when you feel the warmth of Minho’s mouth pressed against your core. He catches himself humming at the taste of you as he licks up one side and down the other. Repeating it until your clit’s stiff and twitching, begging for his attention. He flicks his tongue against your clit just enough to get a reaction out of you. You run your fingers through the soft strands of his chestnut hair, tugging at it to signal that you want more.

Kissing the plush of your inner thighs, he spreads you wider to admire the beauty of you being so drenched and needy when he's barely done anything to you at all. Slowly, he dips the tip of his tongue into you, swirling it in circles just beyond your entrance. “Please” you whine, melodic and low. Minho grins at how adorable you are. “So cute.” You grab onto the sides of the sink, fighting for control of your trembling body. “Shit, why do you taste so good? Hmm?” he pants, diving back in for more.

A moan escapes your lips, the pleasure too intense to contain. You shove your fingers into your mouth, a desperate attempt at blocking the next one but it only works for a short time. Before you know it you’re drooling around your fingers, moaning between rapid, shallow breaths. Knowing that he needs to work quickly to avoid suspicion, he devours you with the hunger he should've had for his dinner. But you're so much tastier than anything this restaurant could offer him.

The wilder he laps at you, the wetter you are, and the more of you he needs. Nothing has to be said for him to know when you're close to your peak. Your body gives you away every time. Minho takes your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours, steadying you as the tension snaps, leaving you clenching around his tongue. A sensation of pure bliss radiates through your body as he holds his pace, stopping only when you're too overstimulated to take anymore.

Standing up, he brings you into his arms and rests his head on your shoulder. He holds you lovingly, not expecting a thing. To him, you’re the most precious woman, his absolute favorite, and at last, you belong to each other. It means everything to bask in this moment—in any moment—with you. You close your eyes, kissing him on the forehead, bathing in the ethereal glow of the “after”.

This is your fairytale and he is your prince.

[preseriesdean]

for @spnficrecfest day ten 🧡

2x05 SIMON SAID

have a cigar by deadlybride 5.6k words, rated E, published 2020 What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

2x14 HOUSES OF THE HOLY

The real green thing will come by victoria_p 1k words, rated T, published 2007 He'd like to blame the whiskey, but he thinks it's more than that, this whatever-it-is between them that's been there for years.

2x20 WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE + 2x22 ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE

Worthless cartography by Goshen / applecrumbledore 15.6k words, rated E, published 2022 Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

2x22 ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE

When I Fall Asleep it Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is 1.9k words, rated E, published 2009 Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

3x11 MYSTERY SPOT

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory 3.5k words, rated G, published 2008 Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Dean does. There should be another cheesy eighties song coming on any second, because it's like he wakes up again, without ever falling asleep.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym 10.8k words, rated E, published 2009 Sam really didn't do very well without his brother.

What Went Wrong Yesterday by SinnamonSpider 16.2k words, rated E, published 2017 With Broward County in their rearview and a new case in their laps, Sam struggles to come to terms with the six months he spent alone after Dean’s death - and the fact that it never happened at all. And on top of it all, he now has to deal with the feelings for his brother that have been dragged to the surface.

4x17 IT'S A TERRIBLE LIFE

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze 26.2k words, rated E, published 2009 In which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

5x01 SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red 9.3k words, rated E, published 2020, non-con “So you’re just gonna, what – torture us for an hour while your guys hightail it to Buffalo? That’s your master plan here?” “Oh I can do a lot in an hour or two, Sammy. Like having your surrogate daddy here carve Dean a new face. Like backsliding you off your pretty bandwagon. Like…Seeing how far big brother will go for his sweet baby Sam.”

5x04 THE END

Further than a Ship, Faster Than a Bomb by queenklu 622 words, rated M, published 2010 Set during 5x04, when there was a glorious moment of two Dean Winchesters at the same time. "You left him."

5x14 MY BLOODY VALENTINE

The Heart of Life by queenklu 626 words, rated T, published 2010 A Vonnegut Valentine.

5x18 POINT OF NO RETURN

the tabernacle reconstructed by redmyeyes 2.9k words, rated M, published 2022 They pulled on clothes, afterwards.

6x18 FRONTIERLAND

You Have One Saved Message by killabeez 3.1k words, rated T, published 2011 Sam gets a new smart phone.

6x22 THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

These Things I Know Are True by killabeez 4.6k words, rated E, published 2011 Cas is off the rails, Sam's barely keeping it together, and Dean's trying to figure out where they go from here.

8x21 THE GREAT ESCAPIST

Last Temptation by merle_p 3k words, rated M, published 2021 Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state.

10x12 ABOUT A BOY

capitulation by deadlybride 8.5k words, rated E, published 2018 When they don't manage to turn Dean back into his adult self, Sam spends a month researching how to fix it.

Betelgeuse by hellhoundsprey 2.8k words, rated E, published 2020 The hex bag never burned.

Telescope by doctor_idiot 7k words, rated E, published 2017 Sam stares at his brother in his baggie hoodie with the rolled-up up sleeves and he wants to cry.

11x17 RED MEAT

Chosen by killabeez 2.5k words, rated E, published 2016, mcd This might be their last night on earth, so Sam figures, what the hell.

[blessedbyapollo]

Somewhere in the thick woods between the West side of town and the slowly declining mall sat a cluster of cabins. They rested snugly next to a vast lake, overlooking the water. Although this lake, lovingly nicknamed the “Quarry” by locals, was far from crystalline, there was something oddly endearing about its murky green depths. It was the type of place to call out to you on a hot summer day, inviting you to cool off and figure out what really lived down there.

What the Quarry contained was still a mystery to Nico di Angelo, who found himself giving in to its allure once again. He had secured a spot floating on his back, far away from any impending interruptions. With his ears slightly submerged in the water, he could hear what sounded like Leo Valdez shouting something to a friend. Nico fanned his arms to the side. All of the annoying voices slowly began to fade to a murmur.

It lasted for about ten seconds.

Nico startled, splashing out of his back float as he felt himself bump into another body. He knew who he had run into before the water cleared out of his eyes. He’d know that bubbling laugh anywhere.

“Shut the fuck up, Solace.” He grumbled, fixing his gaze upon his newfound company. Will Solace, the perpetrator himself, met his eyes, cheeks red with laughter and the start of a nasty sunburn. His usually bushy blonde curls were stuck to his forehead. Nico utterly despised how much it made his stomach flip.

“I absolutely will not.” Will continued to laugh, backing away subconsciously. Nico splashed him without a second thought. Another glorious laugh was elicited.

Behind Will, Drew Tanaka whipped around, hands gripping her once-dry hair. “Do you have a death wish, di Angelo?”

“Take it up with Will, Drew. He started this by being a smartass.”

“Um, excuse me? You literally ran into me!” Will said, grinning. His hands were raised in surrender.

“Um, excuse me?” Nico mimicked. “But I actually *floated* into you, thank you very mu-”

“I could not give less of a shit what happened or why, I just need you both to shut up and fuck off.” Drew, middle finger poignantly raised, waded off towards the dock. Will’s brilliant smile hadn’t even wavered.

“You’d think one would opt to stay out of the water if they didn’t want to get wet.” He muttered, swimming closer to Nico so that they were side by side.

Nico scoffed. “Drew? Being sensible? Let me know when the shuttle lands, Will. I think you may finally be losing it.”

“Damn, Doc, how much longer do I have before it all slips away?”

“Eh, I don’t know. You should ask Will Solace, I heard he’s literally the camp medic.”

“Yeah?” Will flicked Nico’s shoulder. “I think he went home, actually. Left a note on Mr. D’s desk saying that he just couldn’t stand that counselor in Cabin 13.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Nico flashed a smile. He moved ever so slightly closer, blurring the lines between sunburn and flush on Will’s cheeks even further. “He always seemed to want nothing to do with me.”

“He really kept to himself, that one.” Nico laughed, incredulous. He felt his hand brush against Will’s wrist underwater. The brief contact made his breath hitch.

It was stupid, really truly stupid, but he knew he would end up being dragged off by Will. They were only allowed to swim out so far; yet, as if the Quarry was aware that it would encounter many a teenager, it was bordered by several outcrops of rocks. Nico glanced back as Will led him along, checking the dock for prying eyes. He relaxed a bit when he was met with none. Nico had spent almost two full weeks at Camp Nightwing training to be a counselor for the upcoming summer season, and both of them had been spent dancing around Will Solace. It was only fair that they finally got to do things like this, even if the idea of being caught itched at the back of Nico’s mind.

Will seemed to be aware of this ebbing fear. He led them to a nice secluded cove, far enough away that no one would come looking, but close enough that the two of them could vaguely hear what was happening with the others. Nico smiled up at him, returning a bit of his eagerness. Will loosened up ever so slightly; it was clear that he didn’t want Nico to sense his nerves, but all the more endearing that they were obviously abundant.

Nico took his burst of confidence further and brought his hand up to play with the curls at the back of Will’s neck. He watched as Will reveled in the attention. Carefully, at last, Will brought their lips together with a gentle tug of Nico’s chin.

It was always like that - Will was so patient with him, receptive to whatever he needed even if that meant being as far away from others as possible. Will might have been less outwardly afraid of revealing their relationship, but Nico knew that he was just as terrified of the potential that they could be met with rejection or disgust. Whenever they got alone time like this, though, Nico’s fears fell away. Will was just as sweet and earnest in his kissing as he was with everything else he did. Nico met his actions energetically: pressing firmer, biting gently, tugging slightly at the same curls he had toyed with earlier. Will seemed to welcome the intensity.

They pulled back after a moment. Nico took the opportunity to back Will against the rocks behind him. His companion chuckled.

“Who knew all I had to do to get you so worked up is insult you in front of Drew Tanaka?” he asked, predictably breathless.

“I don’t think Drew deserves such an honorable title. Maybe I just missed you, dipshit.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Well, you know, you hardly see me these days. It’s not like we do every activity together or anything.”

“That’s mandatory.” Nico kissed him again. “It has nothing to do with you.”

Will turned his head away to laugh, drawing Nico back to him in no time. It was his turn to initiate the fervor, still smiling slightly against Nico’s lips.

Devastatingly, the dinner bell rang soon after. Will made a sound of protest. Nico chuckled and gently pushed him off, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

“C’mon, this is mandatory too.” With a dramatic sigh and a drop of Nico’s hand, Will began his way to the shore. Nico hung back for a moment, attempting to make their return less blatant. Will turned around, confused.

“We can’t be that obvious.” Nico said as quietly as he could with the distance between them. Will nodded, covering up the brief hurt on his face with a gentle smile, and continued to swim off.

Nico had seen Will do that too often in the short time they’d been at camp. He almost, selfishly, wished that Will would stop getting his own hopes up; maybe then, Nico wouldn’t have to keep letting him down. As he listened to the sound of Will’s splashing grow farther away, he started his journey back.

He tried to push down the growing guilt in his stomach, focusing instead on the sight of the other counselors congregated at the dock. Jason grinning easily, Piper tucked into his side. Lou Ellen struggling to help Will onto the dock as Lee watched on amused. There was so much about getting to know them that scared Nico, but so much else that made him eager for the summer to truly begin.

“Holy shit. I never thought I’d see di Angelo in the water as long as I live.” Leo Valdez said as Nico climbed onto the dock.

“How do you know that this isn’t when you die?” Nico shot back.

“Still would fall in the ‘long as I live’ timeline.” Leo’s trademark smirk danced across his face. Next to him, Jason Grace arched an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll willingly die if we don’t get barbecue for dinner.” Piper McLean chimed in, running her pointer finger absentmindedly up and down Jason’s arm. Leo scoffed.

“I think I’ll willingly die if we do. Mr. D was definitely not hired for his culinary skills.”

A rare moment: Leo had a solid point. The earliest thing Nico had learned about Mr. D, their camp director, was that he did not do anything more than the bare minimum. Their meals for the past two weeks had consisted of every imaginable variation of lunch meat sandwiches and PB&Js, the ingredients of which were left unattended in the dining pavilion on the first day of camp with a sticky-note that read “for your training - Mr. D.” Lee had tried to argue that since they were, in fact, at a program made to train camp counselors, the skill could be useful. He was met with empty ears.

Traditionally, on the last night of pre-camp camp, there was a celebratory barbecue: one final evening of fun before the regular campers showed up for the official start of summer. Nico could do with some half-decent food, even if that meant shitty barbecue.

“Does Mr. D cook it himself, or does he order it in?” Jason mused, earning an immediate flick to the forehead from Leo.

“We think about our words before we say them here, Jason.” Leo said. Jason rubbed his forehead and glared in a way that Nico imagined was his best attempt at ferocity. He withdrew his other arm from around Piper and stood up.

“Well, I have a solution for the both of you - let’s just go to dinner and find out.”

—

Regardless of where the barbecue came from, it was surprisingly good, although Nico figured a well-seasoned piece of cardboard could beat the steady stream of PB&J’s he had been living off of thus far. Even Lee Fletcher, the defender of acquiring sandwich related skills, seemed to considerably brighten from the meal quality.

Nico piled some pulled pork onto a bun and tried, pointedly, not to stare in Lee’s direction. Lee, admittedly, was not the problem: his disgustingly attractive younger brother, however, absolutely was. Will lounged in a red lawn chair, eyes crinkled in laughter. Connor Stoll perched on the arm of said chair, balancing a paper plate full of food on one knee. Nico watched as Will reached over to steady it when Connor waved his hands a bit too wildly.

Piper reached across Nico to grab a bottle of barbecue sauce. She chuckled.

“You’re real subtle, di Angelo.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am subtle, thank you.”

“You’re about as subtle as a neon sign.” Clearly sensing his distress, Piper softened. “But I only notice that because I know you, Nico. I swear.”

Nico walked away from the table with Piper in close pursuit. They sat down at the last unoccupied wooden picnic bench a few feet away.

“You know you-“ Piper started. She took a deep breath. “You don’t have to be so subtle. Not with us, at least.”

Nico prodded his sandwich bun. “I appreciate that. But I do.” He could practically hear Piper’s eyeroll.

“I know you think you’re, like, destined to fail-“

“We’re not doing this, Piper.”

“-but you’re not. And Will Solace isn’t getting any less hot, so holding back is doing you no favors.”

Nico smirked. “Who says I’m holding back?” He took a bite of his sandwich. Piper sat gaping at him.

“You cannot leave me hanging like that.”

He laughed, uninhibited. “I can, I did, and I will.”

“You called, good sir?” Nico startled, looking up to find none other than the subject of conversation himself sitting down across from him. Jason and Leo followed soon after.

“You know your name is really common, right? I wasn’t even referring to the name version of ‘will’.” Will shrugged.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a Will!”

Leo laughed, mouth nauseatingly full of his sandwich. “I like your stupid words, William.” He praised around his mouthful.

“The word ‘will’ doesn’t even feel real anymore.” Jason mused absentmindedly. Piper ruffled his hair fondly, catching his attention.

“Connor told me that Mr. D’s planning to take us all out for drinks tonight. Do you guys know anything about that?” Will pivoted the conversation easily, taking a sip of his Coke.

Leo grinned. “Oh yeah, camp tradition. Charlie was telling me about it.” Charles Beckendorf, Leo’s older cousin, had been a counselor for multiple years prior. If anyone knew the place, it was him.

“Is he, like…allowed to do that?” Jason asked, ever the rule follower. His lips were pursed the way they always got when he was trying not to look as confused as he felt.

“Definitely not. But we’re all adults here!”

Next to Leo, Will shrugged. “At least this way he knows what we’re up to instead of him pretending not to notice while we sneak around.” Piper tipped her own Coke bottle towards him in agreement.

“Silena told me about it, too. No one ever gets trashed - it’s a shitty local bar and Mr. D’s gonna keep an eye on us the whole time. The real fun is when we get back to camp and he goes to bed.”

Leo raised his hand to high five Jason, opting to turn to Will instead after he was promptly rejected. Nico laughed, catching Will’s eye for a second. One more night of fun, everyone drunk and paying no attention to each other. They could make something out of that.

---

“I’m not asking for much here, kid, I just want to know why not all of you left the camp that night.”

Nico stared at the hospital floor, counting the beige tiles for at least the fifth time that hour. *One, two, three, four…*

“He’s still not answering.” Whispered right in front of him, as if he lost his hearing along with his mind.

“Give him a second.”

“I’ve given him an hour.”

“Give him another one.”

The first officer cleared his throat. “Mr. di Angelo, I need to know about the people who stayed behind.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Nico croaked, a gurgling whisper. “I didn’t stay behind.”

“Yes, but those who did, they-“

“Stop.” Breathing felt so hard. “I know that part. I don’t need you to tell me they’re dead. I saw them.”

[legendofmorons]

How to fall in love twice part 7

Pairing: Malon x Time x reader

Rating: G

Summary: While you and Malon go on an unofficial coffee date, Time finally has some sense knocked into him thanks to Wild, Warriors, and Legend.

Warnings: N/A

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

The third day in modern Hyrule begins with the delightful experience of introducing Malon to modern coffee shops. Which is certainly worth it.

However, first, you get a nice shower. With your hair routine, proper soap, any shaving you might choose, and the ability to have hot water. It's glorious, and you are thankful for running water.

Malon takes a shower as well, still confused about modern shower products, but delighted in the effects! She likes that there are so many options. She also adores the hot water since she doesn't have to heat it herself.

Malon has delighted in modern clothes, a sage colored cable knit sweater, and dark jeans are her chosen outfit today.

How the fuck is she so pretty all the time? It should be illegal.

You need to focus on the things going on. Not on how pretty Malon is.

You also need to introduce her to milkshakes. You think she'd like them. But that's for later.

For now, you focus on getting your wallet, keys, and any other items you need for a city outing. You glance at the deity mask sticking our of your bag.

You find both comfort and worry in the presence. The mask has the markings that Time bears. And yet it feels unlike him at all.

You shake your head to dispel the thoughts. There's no use dwelling on those things.

Your time is much better spent on other things. Like kicking ass or spoiling the gorgeous red head you're with.

You lead Malon into the local coffeeshop midmorning. The crowd is not dense, but there's quite a few people there anyway.

Mostly, it's college students who take residence in the establishment.

You both look over the menu, and once you've explained the new drink concepts to her, you both step up to order.

"Welcome to Cuthulu brews. What can I get started for you?" The barista at the counter asks with a smile. Their eyes look dead, though. Classic customer service jobs, sucking the life out of people.

"Can I get a mocha but like - not taste the coffee?" Malon asks.

"Uh- maybe?"

"Why don't you get a shot of espresso in you hot chocolate." You suggest lightly.

"I can do that?"

"Sure, you want hot chocolate with one shot?"

"Yes, please."

"What size?"

Malon looks to you, unsure but excited.

"Large, please." You decide, that'll be more chocolate to hide the coffee taste in.

And really, you think you both deserve nice things after the hell you've been through lately.

You don't know what you'd do without Malon. Ignoring your feelings for her she's still been such a help and pillar of support.

"Awesome, can do. And for you?" The barista turns their attention to you.

You order your drink, along with two breakfast pasteries. You want to make sure you and Malon are both eating well enough.

You pay and leave a tip.

While you and Malon wait for your order, she seems to be buzzing with excitement.

"You're more chipper today, good dreams or something?" You ask with a smile.

The smile she turns on you is dazzling, "Sort of. I'm just glad I'm with you mostly."

"Oh, that's sweet. I'm glad I'm with you too, Mal." You smile and then feel silly using the nickname you've only heard her husband use. "Sorry, uh, the nickname is probably weird."

Malon just shakes her head, "Not really! I like hearing you call me that."

"Oh. Okay." You smile, trying not to read into any of this.

But over the time spent with Malon- your crush has definitely become bigger. And you are a lot closer to in love than you should be.

After collecting your drinks and breakfast, Malon leads you to a window table to sit at. Her mood is the highest it's been in a while.

It's good to see her happy.

"You said you wanted to show me something called - a wifey?"

You nearly choke. "WiFi. Wifey is something different."

Malon laughs, but she looks like she said the wrong thing on purpose. But that's got to be wrong.

(It's not wrong. She's teasing you.)

"You're probably right." She says before taking a sip of her drink.

You just resign yourself to a few bites of breakfast pastry. You need a moment. Just to get your mind up and running again.

"So, if we're in your time, don't you have someone to check in with?" Malon asks as she looks you over.

She does that a lot. Why's she always looking you up and down? She's not checking you out. That's just silly.

(She is checking you out. And she thinks it's rude you keep trying to stop yourself from returning the attention.)

"Not really. I'll be gone again soon so it'd just upset them." You say simply.

Because really the longest you've stayed in any time is a week since you got pulled away from the chain. So why bother upsetting people?

"I guess. But I'd want to hear from you."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're sweet to me."

Malon makes a face, as if amused and exasperated. She does that a lot when you try to wave off her compliments.

"(Y/n), sweetie, you're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."

"Oh. Uh- thanks."

She just smiles, and sets a hand on your hand. "I mean it. You're going to make whoever you end up with very happy ome day."

She has a weird tone, and you almost think she wishes she was who you end up with. But that's ridiculous and probably not right.

"Thank you."

-------

Time is having a very bad time. Since he saw you and Malon, he's been torn up inside.

On one hand, you're both alive!

On the other hand, you're still who knows where facing threats he can't protect you from.

What a great time.

"You need to eat." Wild says as he pushes the shepard's pie into the old man's hands.

Time looks at him, blinking. Right. Food. He does need sustenance.

"Thank you." Time manages.

Wild just sighs, shaking his head. "You're disrespecting both of them by thinking they're gone."

"I don't - I don't think they're gone... I just think I'll never see them again."

Wild just levels a stern look at Time. He's not paid enough for this. He isn't paid at all, actually.

He will have to talk to Hylia about labor laws. She needs to hear from his union.

First, he needs a union, actually. He'll have to ask Legend for help there.

"What?" Time manages with a strangled edge.

"You're being entirely too pessimistic. Everyone thinks we'll see them again. Even Legend. So are you going to snap out of it?"

Time blinks again, confused and unsure if he should be offended. He's just being realistic!

Right?

"Don't give me that realistic spiel. Stop making things out worse than they are."

"I'm not!"

"We saw them three days ago. They were alive without any immediately fatal injuries, and they were both standing on their own. So unless they've started throwing the same pity party you are, they're fine."

"I'm not throwing a pity party."

"Call it what you want, but you're being too seal-ious."

"You did not just make that pun."

Wild just grins. There is nothing like puns to make people listen to you.

"Is he done making the worst assumptions?" Warriors asks as he makes his way over.

"I don't know. Time?" Wild turns expectantly to the old man.

Time just sighs. "Yes. We need a plan."

"We have a plan." Warriors says, as if it should be obvious.

"Since when?"

"An hour after we saw them. Some of us have been getting shit done." Legend adds helpfully.

"Legend." Warriors sighs. Though he dosen’t seem too far away from the sentiment.

"You didn't tell me?" Time asks, sounding genuinely upset.

"The only people who can pull you out of your spirals consistently are the reason you're spiraling. We tried." Pegend tolls his eyes.

"You're not the only one who misses then, Time." Warriors sits beside Time gently. "You may know Malon the best, but we all like her."

"And we all love (Y/n). Not the way you do, but they're one of us." Wild says firmly, "Twilight is barely keeping it together. You know he hates losing loved ones to portals."

Oh.

Time realizes he's really been disconnected. Of course, everyone else misses you and Malon.

He didn't even think about how the others might feel.

Shit.

"I'm sorry." Time says as he looks between his three companions. "I haven't- been present latley."

"We'll forgive you, this time." Wild gives a little grin, "Just don't get lost in your gear again."

"Deal."

[serensama]

Dr, Who?

Thursday Bangers - ongoing weekly prompts by the amazing @woundedsoul12 . I will be doing my best to create a story out of each lyric given to me and will be updating this post as we go along to keep it all in one place!

Read on Ao3

Prompts provided thus far:

I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me - "The Last of the Real Ones", Fall out boy

A hundred days have made me older since the last time that I saw your pretty face - Here without you, Three Days Grace

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all - Lover by Taylor Swift

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met- The night we met by Lord Huron

No matter what happens, he cannot come between us again I know we're better than friends- Million Dollar Baby by Tommy Richman

Baby, I'm so into you, darling, if you only knew, all the things that flow through my mind - Fantasy by Mariah Carey

And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be, And I don't wanna go home right now - Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

All my friends we're glorious, Tonight we are victorious- Victorious by Panic! At The Disco

It's not a walk in the park to love each other, but when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny you're worth it - Still Into You by Paramore

I would burn the world to bring some heat to you - Hymn to Virgil Hozier

——— 

Lilya managed to catch herself before falling onto her face, pulling away from the insistent hands urging her to stay warm in bed. 

“Stop it! I have to go, I’m going to be late!” 

“Just call in sick!” 

“I have a really important- let go of my bra!- appointment.” 

“But I was hoping to get to know you more.”

“Yes, that would be lovely. But I have got to go-”

“What’s the address of your office? I want to take you out for lunch, seeing as we can’t have breakfast together.” 

“Oh um, yeah- sure. I’ll text it to you, see you then!” 

“Hey- wait-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before bolting out of his apartment. It was only as she slid into the back seat of her uber that she realised she didn’t have his phone number. Or remembered his name. Curse Teia for calling her out to bitch and moan about her latest break up with Viago and bullying her into drinking all those shots. Before she knew it, her friend had drunk dialled her stepbrother and the two were back together and disappearing into a darkened corner of the upscale bar, leaving her alone with her phone, two abandoned shots and the arrival of a really, really attractive man who had no right to look as good in a suit as he did. 

She further cursed Teia for her buzz, the liquid courage in veins making her brave enough to give voice to her curiosity if he looked as good out of the suit as well. He was surprised, pleasantly so, but he confirmed that he would not be disinclined to help sate her inquisitiveness. 

The drinks remained abandoned. A text sent to Teia to let her know she was okay, along with a selfie to show her who she was leaving with- and the next thing she knew they were in a cab, with his lips on her neck and his hand up her skirt. So reckless. She hadn’t had a one night stand since her final year in university. This man however, was much more skilled than the football player she had left the bar with so many years ago. 

It was neither here nor there. It was just some fun, a great story to tell Teia and a fond memory of the sweet one night stand. Lilya rushed into her rooms and waved at her 11:00am appointment, patiently waiting for her with a kind smile. 

“I’m so sorry I was late! Please give me two seconds and I’ll be right with you!” 

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— 

She was right. It was an important appointment. Her patient had a breakthrough, understanding the complexities of what he had been through and knowing it was okay not to be okay with any of it, she almost cried with him as he broke down for the first time since he was a child. They booked in a time to see each other the following week and she was so damn proud of him, she asked if he would be adverse to a hug. 

“If you asked me two years ago? I’d have said no. But today? After that- with you?” He smiled, opening his arms out awkwardly like a robot whose arms weren’t oiled enough, creaking from the strain. 

Lilya smiled at her receptionist who had a warm expression on her face at the heartfelt interaction. The man had come leaps and bounds into himself since he’d started seeing her. 

“Cousin? Are you alright?” 

Lilya looked up, stiffening as she pulled out of the friendly embrace. She turned and saw the face of the man she literally ran out on, fresh as a daisy, and her in her day old clothing and with his cologne still on her skin. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Well. Closer to being fine anyway, thanks to Dr. de Riva here,” Lucanis grinned at her, pushing her toward the door to meet his cousin. “Dr de Riva, this is my cousin, Illario. I’ve spoken about him before.” 

Lilya paled and swallowed, nodding at the taller man who was staring at her in shock. 

“She… she’s your doctor?” 

“This is… Illario?” 

Lucanis smiled and encouraged the two to shake hands, completely oblivious to the weird tension that came upon the two most important people in his life. 

“Um… nice to meet you doctor… Lucanis has told me so much about you,” Illario said, finally finding his tongue. He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. 

Lilya blinked at it and only forced out of her daze when her receptionist cleared her throat. “Um, yes. Yes, of course! Hello- nice to meet you too, Illario.” 

He smiled at her widely, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. 

“Lucanis has told me all about you, too.” 

His smile faltered. 

Shit. 

——— 

Just over three months. Just three. And his cousin still would not forgive him. 

For the third time that week, Illario had tried to visit Lucanis and beg for his forgiveness. How could he have possibly known that the woman he randomly met at a bar and had sex with was his therapist? He had never met the woman before! Would that have made him stop? No. But he would have at least had a definite pause before doing what he did. There would have been a pause! Unfortunately, his cousin did not appreciate the ‘theoretical pause’ and slammed the door in his face once again. 

Because of their little interlude, the doctor- Lilya de Riva ( which he only found out after a thorough thrashing he got from his cousin) - had cancelled all upcoming appointments with Lucanis, saying some ridiculous thing about her not being able to ethically treat him moving forward and that there could be no room for bias and whatnot… She then referred him to an Associate Professor Emmrich Volkarin, told him that he was famous in their field and she even studied under him. That he was so renowned that his patients swore he was so perceptive that he could hear thoughts they didn’t dare speak, giving them agency to find real acceptance and peace. Even with all that, his cousin was furious at the situation. At him.  “I trusted her, Illario! She was a confidante, someone I could talk to about anything without judgement or worry she was trying to find an angle to exploit. She was opening doors I had long thought were closed off and you, you slammed them all shut again!” 

He had punctuated that particular discussion with another slam of the door. 

And people thought he was dramatic. 

Illario sighed and left the cup of coffee from Cafe Pietra on the welcome mat and walked back down to the town car waiting for him. It had been three months since Lucanis had joined him going to and from work. Three months with Caterina hounding him to ‘fix his cousin’. Three months since he had last seen her. 

Illario raised his eyebrows in a quick thank you to his chauffeur for opening the door and slipped into the corner of the seat, his right knee perched upon the leather upholstery without Lucanis frowning at him to move his damn leg. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and tried to forget about the pretty girl smiling at him at the bar. Bright green eyes, long raven hair and a grin that could light up even the darkest corners of a club. 

He had every intention of chatting her up on his own and then she giggled and picked him up. Illario was suddenly very grateful for the company car breaking down that had caused him to wait at the nearest establishment to kill time before his taxi came. The girl wasn’t after his money, not by the expensive suit she wore or by the wallet full of cash and black credit card he spied when she paid her tab. She didn’t know his name, and she had clearly already been there for a long time before him which meant she wasn’t hanging out trying to catch him specifically. 

No, this woman just thought he was attractive, and that was really attractive to him. 

Illario scoffed at himself as he finished off his coffee, wincing at the last of the tepid liquid. He was being stupid. It was a one night stand, he had had so many before, he didn’t know why this one refused to leave him. He’d find himself thinking about it whenever his mind wandered- in between his grandmother nagging him, his cousin berating him, his constant responsibilities within their company- she’d slip right in, uninvited. 

He’d remember her laughter, the way she kicked off her designer shoes without a care and didn’t complain at the bites and marks he left on her body. The way she seemed so in sync with him even though they’d barely said a word to each other- it was madness that he was hung up on her, acting like she was someone he had a relationship when for all intents and purposes, he probably wouldn't be able to identify her in a line up if pressed. 

You’re such a bad liar, you can’t even lie to yourself. Pathetic. 

He banged his fist against the door, ignoring the way the driver looked up at him in the rearview mirror. His memories of her were more vivid than any of his other flings or so called relationships. Knew how small her hands were compared to his, the feel of the skin on her neck, the heat of her curled against his body when she slept. He could barely remember Zara and he had dated her for more than two years. Illario groaned at the thought of the heinous witch, thanking the universe for allowing him the clarity to let that woman go when he did. Poison. That was what she was. He should have listened to Lucanis when he told him as much. 

Then he met her. Miss- no, Doctor, Illario, respect her accomplishments-- Doctor de Riva and he was reduced to a sad, pining mess. He had tried to talk to her, to speak on behalf of his cousin to continue treating him, and when she refused to take his calls at her office, he was relegated to speaking to her perky secretary who said she was unable to speak to him and to leave him number and she would return his call. She never did. He just wanted to talk to her. Prove to himself that he was just imagining things and there wasn’t anything special there, that he wasn’t missing out something he had long convinced himself was not for people like him. At least not when Caterina had planned out both his and Lucanis’ lives to a tee. Butterflies in his stomach and fluttering hearts for pretty girls with a smile he still dreamed about were not things his grandmother cared about. 

The car stopped and Illario checked over his reflection, double taking when he thought he saw the beginnings of a grey streak on his temple, breathing easier when he realised it was just a smudge on the window. All the stress he was under was not good for him. 

It was probably best for him to try to find a therapist. 

And he knew just the one he wanted to speak to. 

——— 

The car door swung open and Illario stepped out, ensuring he took the dossier he had been studying for the last four days before his meeting with the Cantori Family, the largest entertainment agency in the country. Nights spent poring over their figures for the last ten years and dismantling their biggest wins and losses had left him exhausted, but he was prepared and knew that this partnership would be of benefit to both their companies- and maybe then Nonna dearest would finally get off his back. Until she found something new to bug him about. Or remember something old. She wasn't picky when it came to busting his balls. 

The elevator opened and a familiar, sickly sweet scent assaulted his nose, his mouth twisting with obvious distaste. He hadn't smelled that perfume since- 

Fucking fuck on a fucking cracker. 

“... Zara.”

She was like a demon or something. If he said her name or thought about her enough times, she would be summoned to haunt him forever. 

“Amatus!” she squealed, bopping on the spot in her excitement to see him. “It has been so long, why have you not returned any of my calls?” Illario turned to his driver and stopped him from coming with him, not wanting another person to be subjected to whatever she had planned. He needed to have a long chat with their security team. How they could have missed a psychopath in their building waiting around in an elevator, riding it for goodness knows how long obviously waiting for someone was beyond him. Someone’s head was going to roll for the oversight. Preferably Zara’s, but he was too pretty to face prison over the likes of her. He stepped into the elevator, his skin already crawling from the idea of spending more than 20 floors in her company in such a confined space with her specific brand of bat-shit crazy. 

“Oh, I don't know why, Zara. Maybe because we broke up eight, no, nine months ago! How do you keep getting my numbers? I’ve changed it five times!” She pouted as if she didn’t hear him, which was probable, the woman only ever heard what she wanted to and whenever she heard otherwise- she would do everything in her power to change it. And whether he liked to admit it or not, the Renata family was powerful, holding too much stock in the Venatori venture capitalist group- almost making the wench untouchable. Almost. 

“Silly boy. You know my brother Calivan likes to keep tabs on everyone for me. I’ve left so many messages and still you won't call. Are you still playing hard to get?” His hand gripped around the folder, papers wrinkling under his hold. “I have not placed a restraining order on you Zara, out of respect for your family and your position, but if you do not stop this, I will do it. I have no qualms about dragging your ass through the dirt if it means you will finally leave me and my family alone.” Zara’s sweet smile turned sour, her top lip curling into the same sneer she made when he broke up with her. The smaller woman pushed him into the back wall of the elevator, pressing her body against his as if that were enough to coax him back to her bed. The witch had him convinced that she cared for him, that she wanted him to reach his full potential, and would help him to be the one Caterina chose to succeed her. He didn’t want to listen to Lucanis who tried to tell him she had attempted to seduce him and when rejected by his cousin, she went to him. He tried to tell him that she was obsessed with the Dellamorte family since university, and she didn’t care if she got in through either of them. There was something grander afoot than either of them knew but Lucanis knew they should not get into bed with Zara, and definitely not with the Venatori. But Illario was always stubborn. And it took almost allowing some Venatori executives to strong arm their way into their inner sanctum for him to wake up and realise that his cousin was right (he was always right, he was Lucanis ‘Maker-Blessed-and-can-do-no-wrong’ Dellamorte.) 

Zara dragged her blood red nails along his neck, her mouth too close to his for his comfort. “Don't deny me, Illario,” she cooed, pressing her hips into his, “we were together for three years-”

“-Two! We've been broken up for nearly a year!-” “-what we have is special. No-one knows you like I do. No-one understands you and what you crave like me. No-one can love you… not like I can.” Illario swallowed. She never learned. Always using his insecurities against him and trying to make him believe he was the lesser Dellamorte. But he had learned better. Even met someone who seemed to click with him, more than he ever expected to with such a brief meeting. It wasn’t just the sex, though the sex was… the sex had been something else, but the way they held each other through the night, the wordless way they knew what the other needed and the genuine way she smiled at him- like she'd always known him- it was like she was literally dreamed to existence just for him. “Ahh, see, I knew it! There’s the Illario I know and love. Always up and ready- I knew you still wanted me. Loved me. You will for the rest of your life,” she grinned, incorrectly assuming his hardening cock was because of her. Her long fingers trailed down his body and he wanted to be ill, the feel of her touching him forcing every hair on his body to rise in revulsion. 

He pushed back firmly, keeping his hand between them to ensure she stayed away. “I don’t love you. I don’t want you. This was just my body reacting to the thought of someone I actually desire.” She scoffed, her pretty features darkening with jealousy. “You’re not with anyone else- there’s no way you’ve moved on from what we had. What we have!” The elevator bell rang and the doors opened to the top floor, reserved only for his family’s offices. “There was nothing then, nothing now and nor will there ever be, leave or you will be escorted out!” he snapped, walking out hurriedly, hoping to escape her. “Don't you walk away from me Illario Dellamorte! You’d be nowhere without me, just some piddling paper pusher in your grandmother’s company behind your cousin. I made you someone!” she shrieked, eyes glassy, as if she could feel actual emotion. The god damned ghoul. 

He could not let that slide. His pride would not allow it. “Listen here you knuckle dragging thundercunt. I was always someone. And I am better for not having you in my life, you are nothing but rot. Anything you touch is infected with it. It took me long enough to realise that you were killing me from the inside out- I will never want you. And if by some horrible luck I do think of you, it will only be with regret, for losing two years of my life beside a disease parading around in human skin. Get. Out.”

Illario felt lighter than he had in months releasing that tirade upon his bloody ex. Did she deserve it?... Eh, kinda. But he had been so pent up for the last couple of months he had to unleash it on someone. Who better than her?! “No, I don’t accept this!” she cried out, her heels clicking on the floor behind him. “You’re just upset, it’s okay. We can talk it out and we’ll be stronger, Amatus, you’ll see. I was just angry and said some things I didn’t mean. Of course you were, are, someone. I wouldn’t want to be with you if you weren’t.” 

That’s even worse, you daft bitch.

“I’ve told you. I’ve moved on! I don’t want you anywhere near me, her or my family- do you understand?” he called out over his shoulder, ignoring the worried looks from the PA’s scattered around the floor. “Fletcher, get security on the line. Get this woman escorted out immediately. She is not to be allowed near the premises, understood? And set up a meeting with the de Acutis’- I want to know how she even got in!” “Yes, Illario. Right away,” they answered, automatically picking up the phone. Zara rushed over to Fletcher's desk and tore the handset from their hand and slammed it back down, earning an unimpressed glare from them. “Great, now I’ll have to disinfect my phone.” 

The woman skittered after Illario, cursing after one of her heels snapped from under her, calling out to him as she collected herself. “There’s no one else. Stop lying to me. If you want me to apologise, I’ll apologise. Don’t just cut me out of your life for no good reason!”  He almost turned around again, too tempted to strangle her with his bare hands, until he saw her. Same long, dark hair. Creamy skin and bright eyes. Mercy, he could see the green of them from where he stood. She was standing outside his office, looking far too tempting in a simple shift dress and heels than she probably meant to.

“Mr Dellamorte, I hope you forgive my intrusion, but my assistant refused to continue working for me unless I managed to stop you from calling my rooms,” she explained, her arms linked behind her back, pushing her chest forward and creating the most alluring line of curves down her body. “Would you have a minute to spare for me?”

He spied Zara turning the corner, hissing his name.

Illario looked back to Lilya, who was looking at the crazed, hobbling woman coming toward them with a furrowed brow, confusion and apprehension apparent on her beautiful face. He handed the dossier to a nearby assistant and turned back to his unexpected guest, flashing her with what he hoped was a charming, but apologetic grin.

“Certainly. I’ll even give you two minutes. But until then, I pray you forgive me, Doctor.”

And before she could ask what she needed to forgive him for, he promptly pulled her into a kiss.

——— 

Her lips were softer than he remembered. Plush and smooth as he moved his mouth over hers. He had intended for it to be a long, chaste peck, but then she kissed him back. Tentatively at first, like she was shy, until she felt his tongue lick at the seam between her lips, and she responded in kind. Illario couldn’t believe his luck when her arms linked around his neck, and she stepped closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. 

If he were being completely honest, he had totally forgotten that she-beast Zara was still in the room. That was, of course, until she grew a second head and started screeching out of it. Or at least that's what it sounded like. 

“Illario Dellamorte! Who the hell is she?!” she shrieked, stomping her way closer to them. Much to his surprise, Lilya stepped beside him and held his hand, an action that Zara did not miss, causing even more unpleasant, indignant noises to erupt from her. “How could you do this to me?” 

Lilya looked up at Illario, a wary expression on her face as her eyes darted between him and Zara. “I… I’m not sure what’s going on here. Illario, who is this woman?” 

Seeing as he was probably already going to be killed by Dr de Riva as it was, he didn’t see the problem in dying a second time over if it meant that he’d finally get the crazy ex off his back. Besides- if he was going to hell, he may as well enjoy the descent as much as he could. He hushed her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively, drawing her into his side. His other hand smoothed down her long locks and held her face tenderly, concern playing across his handsome features. 

“Lilya? Mi Amor- are you okay?” 

Oh, he was asking to be kicked in the balls by this woman. When they finally got to speak to each other alone, it would just be two minutes of her just kicking the shit out of him. 

She blinked but recovered quickly and nodded, her small hands curling into the lapels of his navy overcoat as though she were nervous, or possessive, or both. He had to hand it to the doctor; she quickly cottoned on to what he needed from her and played her part well, considering she had only witnessed the brief interaction between him and Zara. Another pang of guilt hit him for being the cause of his cousin’s no longer being able to be treated by her, but it was almost worth it to see Zara almost go full exorcist mode. He only hoped she wouldn’t start puking up pea soup all over the carpet. Caterina had insisted on the white carpet and would be terribly put out to see it stained. 

Zara yelled out his name again, and he ignored her, captivated by the clear green irises that were staring up at him. He’d dreamed of her eyes for weeks, seeing them up close and in the light of day, he knew he’d be dreaming of them for many more. When he continued to disregard her, the woman rifled through her bag and threw her phone at his face. If he hadn’t been eye fucking the pretty doctor in his arms and been in the right state of mind, he might’ve stepped aside - but instead, he was beaned right on the corner of his eye. Say what you would about Zara, the bitch could aim. 

“Fuck. That was meant for you, you homewrecking whore!” 

Then again, maybe not.  

“Hey, ‘Lario, can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked, her tone serious, with two fingers held up in front of him. He answered, and she smiled, wincing at what she knew was going to be one hell of a shiner. Once she was satisfied that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, she stepped out in front of him, like she was the one protecting him. 

“I am not a homewrecking whore. You are just a woman who can’t come to grips with reality. This man does not want you-” 

“You’re wrong!” 

“I assure you, I am not.” 

“Illario isn’t seeing anyone. He’s just doing this to make me feel bad for the rough patch we’ve had-” 

Lilya scoffed, a cold, heartless noise he would have never thought would come out of her. He almost got hard just thinking about her being so ruthless. Fuck… maybe he really did need to see a therapist. Who the hell in their right mind got off on that? 

“My dear Miss… Zara, was it?” Lilya asked, knowing full well what the woman’s name was. “You said that throw was for me; I suggest you leave with the kind security guards heading our way now- lest I show you the damage proper aim can do. And trust me, I never miss a target.” 

Yep. He was hard. He was going to go to hell with an erection and a stupid grin on his face, and he didn’t even care. He pulled Lilya back and held her waist from behind, placing a kiss to her temple as he kept his eyes on Zara, the security doing their best not to manhandle the irate woman, knowing who she was. 

“I told you, Zara,” he began, curling his arms around her in a full embrace, “I’ve moved on. We’re over. You have no business with me, her or the company, so you must leave the premises. If you are seen here again, without express invitation from me or my family, I will press charges. Do you understand?” 

The woman stood still, her shoulders heaving up and down from her heavy breaths and glared at him. If he didn’t know better, it felt like he was being hexed by her stare alone. She didn’t answer him; instead, she pulled her arms free from the guards’ loose hold and walked out of the office, security following closely to ensure she was escorted from the building. 

Illario sighed deeply once Fletcher confirmed they had gone into the elevators, and the rest of the office returned to their business as normal, only a few people shooting him and the random woman curious glances as they continued working.  Lilya turned around and tenderly touched the reddened area around his eye socket, flinching empathetically when he did. She went to his EA’s desk and kindly asked if it was possible to get some ice and ibuprofen for him, and then led him into his own office. After surveying the layout, she determined that the couch was the best place for him to sit and gently helped him to it - not that he was unable to do so himself, but he found that he didn’t mind being led or cared for. It had been years since anyone who wasn’t Lucanis had looked out for him. 

...Had anyone apart from Lucanis ever looked out for him? 

He was lost in thought when a cold punch hit him in the face, and he exclaimed, shaken free from his downward spiral. 

“Oh, stop being such a baby, it’s only ice,” she soothed, a wry smile playing at her lips. Right. Those lips. Sinful, pouting, pliant - “So, I’m going to assume that was your ex? Clingy? Unable to understand that you’re broken up? Obsessive? She needed to see you with another woman to move on, so you used someone she didn’t know in the heat of the moment to get your point across, which just so happened to be me. Am I close?” 

“Yes, yes. You’re a genius and a good judge of character…” he grinned, grimacing for a second when his eye smarted. To her credit, she only smiled briefly at his pain and continued icing his injury. “Correct, Mr. Dellamorte, on all fronts,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “So that begs the question you should be asking…” “And what is that, Doc?” he chuckled, ignoring the pain in his cheek. It was easy to do so when he could easily smell the perfume that had long faded from his bedsheets, warming the air around him. 

“What does my impeccable judgement tell me about you?”  His smile faded. Hers grew. 

“I’m not going to like what you say next, am I?” he groaned playfully, taking over the icing duties, instantly mourning the loss of her touch. She sat back on the couch and laid her hands on top of each other on her lap, the woman he held in his arms retreating behind her professional facade once more. Suddenly, his attraction to her ability to smoothly switch to callousness dimmed when it was focused on him. 

“Probably not, no. I think now that… the debacle outside has played out… it is time I take those two minutes you promised me.” “Well, you’ve certainly earned them.” “Well done, me,” she retorted with a smile so sharp it could cut him in two. “You need to stop calling my office. My poor assistant, Bellara, has threatened to quit if she hears your voice on the other end of the phone one more time.” Illario raised his left hand in surrender. “Scouts honour, no more calls to your office.” 

“You’re meant to raise your right hand for that,” she clicked her tongue with faux disappointment, a shadow of the warm smile he could look at for hours playing across her mouth. 

“I’m injured, take pity,” he pouted, earning him an earnest laugh. She motioned for him to remove the ice pack, and she leaned in to inspect his face, so close he could just kiss her again, but she retreated as quickly as she came. 

“Hmm... shan't. For it is my expert opinion that you will, in fact, live. Congratulations, Mr. Dellamorte, you can continue being the best-dressed rake this side of town.” “Ouch. That one hurt, Doc. Isn’t your first rule to do no harm?” “Helping you take your ego down a peg or two is not doing harm. It’s a kindness to the rest of the world. I should get a medal,” she stated audaciously. “So now that we’ve confirmed that you are, in fact, not dying, and you’ve promised that you will no longer politely harangue my assistant, I shall bid you a good day. I leave with the sincere recommendation for you to please get examined by a doctor, especially if your symptoms get worse.” 

Illario cleared his throat, his grin already telling Lilya exactly what he was going to say next. 

“You’re a doctor. Please feel free to examine me once again, as thoroughly as needed. Doctor’s orders and all that.” 

She laughed again, her head thrown back like she hadn’t laughed in years. 

“You know what, sure. I could do that,” Lilya positioned herself between his legs and bent down until they were face to face, her hand supporting his chin, thumb unconsciously caressing his freshly shaved jaw. “Hmm, you’re right, you do need a follow-up. You should call my office and… oh wait… You can’t. What a shame. Good day, Mr. Dellamorte.” 

She tipped his chin back gently with a wide grin and sauntered off, completely aware that he was watching each step she took out of his office, and what she assumed was out of his life. But if there was one thing Illario Dellamorte knew, it was whether a deal would be worth the risk and effort it took to pursue, and Lilya de Riva was exactly the kind of risk he wanted to take.  

——— 

Did she have to swing her hips from side to side as she walked out of his office? No. Did she want to turn back around and just give in to it all, climb on top of him, and make out like rabid teenagers for the rest of the day? Maybe let him get to third base a little? Yes. Yes.

Should she have? 

Absolutely not. 

Things were already messy, and the last thing anyone needed was for her to complicate things further. She had gotten what she wanted from her visit, which was that Illario would cease contacting her rooms. However, a part of her was going to miss Bellara coming into her office with an assortment of Post-its, all dated with slightly different, but inherently similar messages from him scrawled on them. 

‘Sorry about everything, Doc. Please give me a call so I can apologise to you properly.’

‘I didn’t mean to mess up my cousin’s treatment with you- for what it’s worth, you did help him. I feel terrible. Please let me make it up to you, because he certainly won’t let me make it up to him.’

‘Hey Doc, don’t know if your assistant is actually giving you any of these. If she is, would you mind calling me back just so I know that you have some competent help there? I can always send you a new PA as an apology for everything.’

It was the last message that had Bellara threatening to quit if she didn’t get Illario in line. Still, good help was hard to find, and Bellara had so much promise that she wanted to ensure she had the best leg up - and that was made possible by working with her. Bellara was able to access resources that the average student didn’t have, browsing through exclusive online journals and textbooks between her patient’s visits. She also found it much easier to study in her quiet rooms with little distraction. Lilya shuddered to think how difficult it would be if she were working at the mall or in a restaurant. 

But still… she shouldn’t have let herself get swept up in the whirlwind that was Illario Dellamorte. Allowing herself to play along with that charade to free himself from his jilted ex-lover was careless of her… she didn’t do chaotic, and yet there she was diving headfirst into the trash heap that was his life. 

Oh that was judgemental. You can’t base his entire character on what Lucanis said about him; you know better. You should know better! 

She hailed a taxi and slid in, sighing with disappointment at herself. She was a doctor, a psychiatrist, a damned good one - but she was human too. There was no denying there was something unexplainable about whatever connection they shared. It wasn’t love at first sight by any means, but it ran deeper than just lust. Though… When he kissed her earlier, it took everything in her not to pull him onto the nearest desk and demonstrate to the entire office just how over Zara he well and truly was. 

Lilya grumbled at herself, squeezing her hands tightly to get a hold of herself. It wasn’t like her to fantasise about a man, especially a man she had a one-night stand with. He was her equivalent of an earworm, hearing his voice when she was in bed, always when she was just about to fall asleep - his grunts, his moans, the rasp deep in his throat when he asked if she was close and - no. She had spent too much time recalling that one night to help her get through the lonely evenings, and she was a little scared that she had become dependent on him, dependent on the memories of him. 

That was why she theorised that seeing him in person may be the end to all her worries. She would see that he was just a man, and her mind was likely inflating him to impossible heights to help her get off. 

But then he came in with his perfect hair, tanned, broad and dripping with confidence and charm- and then he kissed her. 

All the feelings came rushing back to her against her will. The time she spent in the arms of a man who seemed to read her mind and fulfil every carnal need she had, someone who appeared to be genuinely excited to get to know her, rather than just being relieved to see her getting dressed and running out of his life. What was holding her back? It wasn’t expressly forbidden to see him now that his cousin was no longer her patient, but it felt so unethical to even think about it. She wouldn’t hurt Lucanis any more than he had already been. It was why she hadn’t returned his calls; she didn’t think she was strong enough to say no to him again. 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she looked down to see a text appear. 

“My fucking meeting was postponed until next week. Tell me something good?”  

Teia. She had told her about this meeting and said that it would be life-changing; there was no doubt her friend was annoyed it had been delayed. “Good? No patients today. Probably staying at home and eating whatever is not growing mould in my fridge and pretending I’m not two seconds away from adopting all the cats and dogs at my local pound so I can complete my transition into a hermit with an army of pets.” 

Her reply was instantaneous, and forced Lilya to stifle a giggle in the back seat of the cab. 

“Nice. If you find a small dog that will terrorise your brother for me, please let me know. I’m so sick of his damn obsession with his snake.” 

���Please tell me that’s not a euphemism for his penis.” “... Then I guess we should change the topic.”

“I’m going to stop talking to you now.” 

Lilya was about to put her phone into her bag when she was reminded of the phone that was hurled at Illario’s handsome face and how warm and smooth his skin was under her hands. She flicked herself as hard as she could, yelping at the sting and ignoring the way the driver gave her some wicked side eye. She was going to go home and forget the day had happened at all, and just watch a random show as she doom scrolled on her phone. A day of self-care. One that did not include illicit thoughts of a certain tall, gorgeous man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen and fucked like a demon- at this rate, she, her dirty little memories and her recently charged friend in her nightstand were going to have another sordid interlude. 

No. 

She pulled out her phone and opened up a new message. 

“Neve… do you feel like coming out with me tonight? Anywhere you want.” 

If one random encounter got her this way… perhaps another random encounter with a completely different person would help her exorcise him from her life. 

“How about The Diamond? I’ve heard good things about it. Bit up market, nothing like The Swan back home, so it’s right up your alley. I was going to meet someone there tonight. Did you want to meet up with us there?” 

The Diamond. That was where she met Illario in the first place. Well, maybe that was where she could leave him behind. 

——— 

She had to ask herself again if she was heading down a self-sabotaging spiral. She had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting herself ready and choosing between which little black dress didn’t scream out ‘desperate’ but also didn’t say ‘prude’- and settled for the fitted mid-length, off the shoulder satin number, with a noticeable slit on the front of her thigh. Enough to tell people she was happy for them to look, but she wasn't going to provide the whole show without a little bit of effort from them. 

Lilya almost changed her mind three times on her way there, but she knew if she didn’t actively do something about her needs, she’d be compelled to do something stupid. She was a proponent of the phrase ‘physician, heal thyself,' and she wanted to believe that by tackling the problem head-on, it would finally get her back on track and leave the past behind her. She could call this foray into questionable decisions a part of her self-care regime, that finding someone willing to indulge her in a night of frivolity and hedonism, with no questions asked and no strings attached, would be a cure-all to her unending fantasies about a certain Casanova. 

The Diamond was infinitely busier than the last time she came with Teia. Bodies were pressed up against each other as the crowd tried to move to and from the dance floor and the bar; the bass of the song thumping so hard that she almost mistook it for her own heartbeat.

Lilya surveyed the club and managed to make out the familiar silhouette of her best friend at the corner of the bar, the bright lights that illuminated the benchtops, accentuating her sharp jaw and highlighting the white of her shirt. She giggled when she noticed she had also worn a fabulous (but ridiculous) fascinator to the club. Bless her. 

Neve, astute as always, turned just in time to see her across the room and raised her eyebrows in a subtle greeting. Lilya moved through the people and suddenly remembered why she had stopped going to places like this in her 30s. It was because she detested large groups of people. Add copious amounts of alcohol, lust and drugs, and they were a horde of mindless beasts looking for another creature to rut upon.

She paused when she realised that was also precisely what she had intended to do that night. Minus the excessive drugs and alcohol. Was that any better? Is being a carnally charged animal better when one wasn’t wasted? In her professional opinion?... Oh screw her professional opinion. She wasn’t out as Dr de Riva. She was just Lilya there. After one more ‘excuse me!’, she was able to find herself next to Neve, who quickly passed a shot glass that she downed without hesitation, causing her friend’s mouth to quirk into a sly smirk.

“I could have slipped something in that, you know.”

“As if you’d need it to get me into bed.”

“Touché.” 

“So, who were you meant to be meeting?”

“Already met him. He’s an informant of mine; he said he’d only meet here as he had some business to attend to, and I had to work around his schedule. Criminals these days, no bloody manners.”

Lilya stole the bottle of liquor Neve held and poured herself another shot, nursing the liquid in small sips. “And you thought dragging your poor defenceless civilian friend along was a great idea?”

Neve smirked, toying with her cigarette holder between her fingers, Lilya knowing her friend was probably itching for a smoke as she always did whenever she drank. “You? Defenceless? Miss ‘My brother is probably having me tailed’?”

Lilya groaned. Her stepbrother was the paranoid type, and ever since he took over the family business, he had become even more wary of the people she associated with. Telling her at every chance to be more cautious, to stop being so trusting, and to make sure to take tester kits wherever she went, to ensure the water they served wasn't poisoned. 

“He stopped doing that years ago.”

“He did?”

“Mhmm. I made one of his little spies cry and sent him back home with his tail between his legs. I told him I would do that to each and every person he sent.” 

“Fantastic. I’ll drink to that!”

“You’d drink to me just blinking.”

“And it wouldn’t even be the first time I did,” the detective smirked and raised her glass to her, rolling it along her cheek with the palm of her hand before deftly pouring the alcohol into her mouth. Neve tapped on the bar and pointed to both the ladies’ and smokers’ rooms, only waiting a moment for Lilya to shake her head before effortlessly disappearing into the crowd.

She poured herself the last of the Gran Patròn and smiled to herself. Neve was not one to normally spend so frivolously; even on a detective’s salary, she fed most of her money back into her community. This bottle alone would have cost her at least $700, and she had known this woman since university; that $700 was better served in Dock Town, not in the bottom of a toilet bowl after a night of binge drinking. Whoever her informant was, they were generous with both their intel and their money. 

Lilya turned around and leant against the bar, resorting to what she did whenever she was alone in public. She people-watched. She smiled at the group of young women out celebrating a bachelorette party. A lovely thing in the middle was dressed in white, wearing a plastic bejewelled tiara on her head and a satin sash across her body, with “bride to be” written in bright pink lettering. There was a large group of finance bros or lawyer types, all suited up and congratulating themselves on the deals they had closed, vying to be the most lavish amongst each other to prove something about the size of their bank accounts.

Then she happened to look across to where some of the semi-private booths were, and there was a man watching her intently, his shot glass halfway to his mouth. He smirked at her and raised his arm in a toast, and she joined him, about to drink, when he motioned for her to stop abruptly. She laughed and waited as the mysterious man had asked, doing her best to look quizzically at him, silently asking for permission to drink. He shook his head and wiggled the index finger of his free hand to her, Lilya almost hearing him tut at her. 

He stood up, to the disappointed cries of the party around him, and he waved them off, shouting back what she could only assume were obscenities for his friends to shut up. He made his way to her, with all the confidence and swagger of someone she knew she would be attracted to… then as he drew closer to her, his features became clearer under the brighter lights. 

He could have passed as another bloody Dellamorte. Same high cheekbones, a strong nose, and thick, dark, lustrous hair. He was bloody gorgeous. The sharp ring of their glasses snapped her out of her daze, to find him thoroughly enjoying having her undivided attention. 

“Sorry, it seemed a shame to miss an opportunity to share a toast with a beautiful woman,” he said, clinking his glass against hers once more.

Lilya sat up straighter, trying to think if she should entertain the wicked idea forming in her head. If she could not be with Illario Dellamorte, perhaps she could scratch the itch with someone who kinda - kinda really - looked like him and simulate some sort of closure that way. Was it healthy? Was it something she would recommend to one of her patients? Of course bloody not. But she was not her patient, and she was still human and fallible. There was nothing unethical about her sleeping with someone who looked like her former-patient’s cousin… if there was, god damn it, the ethics committees these days needed to get laid too. 

“Oh, you wanted a beautiful woman? You just missed her; she just went to the bathroom. But she’ll be back soon if you want to wait. Until then, you’re welcome to put up with the likes of me,” she smiled, gesturing to the empty seat next to her.

The stranger chuckled and shook his head, pointing at her cheekily. “Ah, you caught onto my game, I am so ashamed. I guess I should do the honourable thing and talk to you and get to know you, maybe even buy you a drink or two to make up for my terrible behaviour… Miss-?”

Lilya took a second to think about what she was about to do, weighing up the pros and cons of following through with her hormone-fuelled plan.

“Lilya,” she replied, her smile growing as his widened at learning her name. “And yes, a drink, or two, would be the very least you could do after humiliating me like that, Mister?”

“Another bottle of what she’s having,” he said offside to the bartender, who merely nodded dutifully. “And it’s Elek, pleasure to meet you, Lilya. Whatever you have in mind for me to undertake as an act of contrition, I would be more than happy to do,” he answered with such a honeyed tone she was already tempted to lick the side of his mouth to see if he tasted as sweet. “Buy you dinner? Achieve world peace? Cure cancer? Worship at your feet until you saw fit to let me stand again.” He poured her a glass. “Name it.”

He was probably a long-lost cousin of theirs. Their flirtier, wisecracking long-lost cousin. 

“And if I choose to never let you up from the floor? What then?” she asked teasingly, letting her eyes run up and down his body provocatively, leaving no room for interpretation of what she meant. 

It was his turn to pause as a light dusting of pink spread through his cheeks, which she knew had nothing to do with the amount of liquor he had imbibed that evening. “Well then,” he began, tipping his glass back faster than he should have to savour the taste of the sipping tequila. “I would hope that you would have mercy on me… and at least give me a pillow for my knees. I may look young, but these joints just aren’t what they used to be. I would hate for you to be distracted by the sound of them cracking. I’d have to start my apology all over again.” 

Lilya burst out laughing and took a sip from her glass. 

“Alright Elek, you have my attention. Tell me about yourself,” she smiled. 

---

Illario winced when a dull pain radiated through his cheek, the bruise slowly starting to darken from the pink it was earlier that day. If it were up to him, he’d be at home icing up his damn injury but once his grandmother had told him she had taken the liberty of rescheduling the meeting he had been in charge of - he wanted to scream. He stupidly thought for a second that she had done it out of concern for his well-being, wanting her grandson to get thoroughly checked out and ensure he was fine. But no, she wanted to be certain that he couldn’t potentially ruin the merger because he wasn’t of sound mind due to his injury and/or incompetence. Old witch probably assumed that he was going to go insane over seeing Zara again. He was half tempted to tell her to do it herself or wrangle his cousin to do it instead - but he bit his tongue. As they all did when it came to Caterina. 

“If you are so eager, go see Teia yourself. She told me in passing that she will be at The Diamond sometime tonight.” 

The last thing he wanted to do was go to the same damn club he met Lilya in, not when she was literally in his hands just 12 hours earlier. It would be like an exercise of torture, and as masochistic as he could get, even he wanted no part of it, given his current foul mood.

Illario moved easily past security and was instantly assaulted by the smell of harsh colognes and too-sweet perfumes, the din of too many people talking at once, and the pulsing lights threatening to trigger a migraine when combined with his smarting cheek. He didn’t even know if Teia was there yet; he was just forced to go and wait until she appeared. Thankfully, his EA had the presence of mind to call ahead and secure a private room for him to wait in and to be advised when she would arrive. He was about to be led through the club when he picked up a familiar laugh, cutting through the brief moment of silence between tracks being played, and after only hearing it that day, he could have placed it anywhere. 

He turned his head to the sound and craned his neck, dodging around the people walking between them. 

She was there.

Laughing. 

With another man. 

She leaned in a little too closely, her right arm upon the bar to support her, the man’s arm slung low around her waist. He watched as the cocky little shit pulled her closer and whispered something in her ear which made her laugh even harder, the psychiatrist almost falling backward. Thankfully, the idiot at least had decent reflexes and caught her, taking full advantage of the situation to press her against him. Illario could feel his stomach turn, his teeth clenching at the sight. He didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to see her from the sidelines as some other guy was lucky enough to hold her and steal a kiss from her lips, when he knew it should have been him in his place.

Illario keenly observed the couple in their not-so-private moment, fighting against himself as to whether he wanted to retch at them deepening their kiss or if he wanted to go over and smash the man’s head into the bar… and then retch on him for good measure. From his vantage point, he could see her pull back, her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks flushed with colour. Lilya said something to her companion, and he nodded, taking her hand and guiding her onto the dance floor. His feet followed them without realising, the surprised voice of the club manager fading off into obscurity as he walked away from her, to see where that man had taken his favourite physician. 

The man had chosen a free space in the middle of the floor, surrounded by so many others moving to the rhythm. He lifted her hand and encouraged her to spin, circling his arms around her to stop her, both laughing heartily. With a move so smooth even Illario had to give him props, he spun her again so her back rested against his chest, the two just swaying to the music. Illario could feel himself sneer as the man trailed his nose down the line of her neck, and he could see her enjoying it; Illario could almost hear her breathy sighs in his ears. He fumed at the hands that weren’t his, exploring the curve of Lilya’s hips and thighs as he continued to whisper things to her she obviously approved of. Illario felt himself mirror her actions, biting his lip whenever she bit hers. 

He was screaming at himself for just gawking at them, even at his lowest, he would never stoop to being voyeuristic without the other person’s knowledge – yes, he was kinky, but he wasn’t a creep - when another woman came and tapped the man on the shoulder. She was as gorgeous as she was furious; even from where he stood, he could feel the ire emitting from her. Lilya’s dance partner said his quick goodbyes and obediently followed the woman off into a dark corner, where she had taken the man by the collar and was tearing into him quite obviously. He didn’t have to hear the conversation to know the woman was warning the man never to stray close to Lilya-or perhaps any other woman-again.  The cheating bastard should have known better. 

Lilya chuckled to herself and looked around, embarrassed, her expression unsure if she should stay dancing by herself or head back to the bar. Illario watched her enraptured as her thoughts crossed over her face for him to see, her bright eyes closing as she allowed herself to get back into the beat of the song, uncaring that she no longer had a partner to join her, just happy to dance on her own until someone else stepped in. Her hips rocked from side to side as her arms went up above her head as she bounced to the music, happily carving out her own little niche on the floor until her pretty eyes opened and landed directly on him. 

---

Lilya paused, frozen to the spot as the realisation of who she was looking at dawned on her. That was not Elek. Nor was it another man who merely resembled the one who had plagued her thoughts for the last three months. It was actually him. Somehow, he had known exactly where to find her, and he was looking at her as if she were his prey. She did not move as he stalked his way over to her, all fluid lines and smooth motions like the perfect predator. 

“You look like you’re about to leap on me, Mr Dellamorte. I don’t see any errant exes lurking here in the shadows you need saving from,” she teased when he was within earshot. “Have you managed to turn into some sort of animal in our hours apart? Have you come here on the prowl as the big bad wolf?” 

Maker, she was never going to drink again. She was a bloody menace to society. 

“Well, I’m certainly not your grandmother,” he said, with the same glint in his eye that fascinated her the first time they met. 

“I’d hope not. Otherwise, I’d have to ask how you managed to get your eyesight back, Abuelita- and that might make it weird,” Lilya smiled, her hand rubbing at his chest. 

Illario could not help but break into a grin when she did not pull away from him. “All the better to see you from across the room, my dear.”  

Feeling emboldened, he closed the distance between them so they almost touched and allowed his fingers to skim up her arms, unable to conceal his delight at the way she swallowed instinctively, goosebumps rising along the path he’d travelled. He could tell she was having another internal struggle, being so close to him, torn between what she should do and what she wanted to do. His hands somehow found themselves around her waist, thumbs lightly kneading into her, her eyes darkening as they focused on his mouth. 

“What… what large hands you have.” 

“All the better to feel more of you with… My dear,” Illario played along, chuckling amusedly. He could feel her relax in his hold, and he pressed his forehead to hers, relishing the physical closeness he seemed to share so easily with her - a force of chemistry or connection he had never felt with anyone. Lilya pulled back to scan over his features, her hands ghosting over his face, fingers tracing the shape of his lips until they pulled back into a wolfish grin. 

She licked her lips. So did he. Illario could feel her breathing pick up, shallow and fast. 

“My, my,” she whispered, her mouth slyly evading his whenever he tried to kiss her again, giggling softly as he growled with every missed attempt. “What big teeth you have.” 

Illario laughed so loudly that some of the other revellers turned around at the sound. His hands shifted to cradle her face, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, tipping his mouth toward the shell of her ear to ensure his lips feathered against the delicate skin there. “Now, now, darling Lilya. You must remember just how well I can eat you… And if you don’t… I look forward to the chance to remind you.” 

Her eyebrows softly curved upward with want, a gasp falling from her lips as her desire took over her, and he waited. They were barely a whisper apart, and if she allowed it, he would be able to kiss her without any other pretence than simply wanting to. 

She nodded. 

Illario could feel her warm breath on him, eager to taste her lips again- 

“Honestly, Lilya. I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you manage to entangle yourself with not one, but two strange men? I don’t know if I should be worried, envious or proud?” 

Lilya was released from her wayward longing the moment she heard the other woman's voice and quickly stepped away from Illario; the club was still stifling, but the air around them had turned sharp, almost glacial by contrast. She muttered her apologies and used words like ‘inappropriate’, ‘inebriated’, ‘foolish’ and 'never again' before tottering away and linking arms with her friend, the latter giving him a long but entertained look as she led them out. 

Illario shoved his fists deeply into his pockets, unsure if he’d hit someone with how wound up he felt. He counted to ten and breathed, and then did it again before letting his hands fall to his sides and walking out of the club. He couldn’t sit there and mull over what had just happened; he’d drive himself insane. Lilya’s little retreat only poured fuel on the fire already raging inside him. Whatever it was they shared, it wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t imagined. She wanted him just as much; he felt it in every look and every breath between them. His need for her grew into something fiercer, even more consuming. He had just been chasing her before. Now, she would feel what it meant to be truly hunted by him.

——— 

Neve was a patient woman; she would wait until Lilya was ready to talk before saying anything. She had to be willing to wait in her profession; not all cases were open and shut within a day. Unfortunately, some cases took months to crack. This latest stuff with Aelia and Dock Town… urgh… No. She was not going to think about that witch any more than she had to. The detective wrapped her arms around Lilya, who was lightly shivering in the evening air, the autumn chill biting through her even with the tequila swimming through her veins, the two women huddling together for warmth, reminding Neve of their late nights trawling through different clubs in their youth and never remembering to wear jackets. Apparently, neither had grown wiser as they grew older. 

Lilya pressed her cheek against Neve’s as she tightened her hold around her waist, desperate to siphon every bit of her friend’s body heat for herself, ignoring the way the taller woman laughed at her. “I can’t believe I did that, that was just so humiliating.”  Neve squeezed Lilya in return and comfortingly rubbed her back. “Oh, don’t worry, no one else noticed. Everyone’s too wrapped up in their own stuff to worry about anyone else.”  “But I know what I did, I’ll remember it,” she whined, burying her face in her friend’s collar. “Impulse control- gone. Reasoning- non-existent. Judgment- fucked from here to kingdom come. You should just put me in solitary for the next year and let me think about what I’ve done for a good long time, to make sure I don’t go terrorising random innocent people at night and try to mount them.”

Neve snorted and pushed away from Lilya, the latter moaning the loss of warmth instantly. “People, you say. Well, those particular people, you somehow managed to entangle yourself with, in the blink of an eye, looked mighty similar there, Lil. Seems you got yourself a type.” 

Lilya was half-tempted to stomp her foot like a petulant child, but she wasn’t quite that drunk yet. Sometimes she really hated Neve’s perspicacity and frankness; between her and Teia, she never had any peace. As good a reason as any to never let them hang out together. 

“Is this because of that night you spent with that guy a while back? I remember you telling me he was all god-like bone structure, a smile that made you feel like he was already inside of you and so beautiful it made you want to cry whenever you thought about him,” she ribbed, lighting a cigarette and checking her phone to see how long their Uber would be. Her eyes flicked back up to Lilya, who had turned a vivid shade of pink as she recalled their conversation one week after their encounter. 

“I told you that in confidence, whilst I was not exactly sober for your compassion, not for you to use as ammunition to call me out for fun at your leisure!” 

“…Do you even realise who you’re talking to here, Lil?” 

“I need new friends.” 

“You need to get over this little infatuation of yours.” 

“I was trying to, then you pulled the first guy away-”

“ He was my CI! A literal criminal, Lil!” 

“He was quite gentlemanly for a criminal.” 

“He’s a professional con-man.” 

“Who can kiss.” 

“The second one looked like he could, too-”

“He can.” 

Neve paused. She was certain that she had stopped her from kissing that other handsome stranger. How could she possibly know… “Shit. Lilya… that second guy. That’s the guy, isn’t it? The one you’ve been trying to get over.” Her silence was all the answer she needed; the detective cackled at her friend’s obvious discomfort. “Oh, this is too good. Better than any trashy stories from back home, I am positively living . Please continue, give Aunty Neve all the sordid details of how he found you here and what you would have done if I hadn’t interrupted you. Leave nothing out. We have another 5 minutes before our ride is here.” 

Lilya glowered at her, tempted to beat Neve to death with her own prosthetic- just to buy enough time to avoid revealing all the gritty particulars she’d been longing to share. Nonetheless, she knew she’d be dreaming of their almost-kiss for days to come. Her skin burned with the memory of his lips under her fingertips, along her ear, and the strength in his hands as he held her body to his. Her heart was already fluttering at the most basic of recollections. If she even dared to tell Neve the things she thought about him, what she wanted to do to him and with him? She’d probably come on the spot and then die from embarrassment. And if she didn’t, Neve would make sure to put her in the coffin herself with her never-ending, sarcastic quips.  She had finally managed to string the words together to tell her to shut up and mind her own damn business when the very hands she’d been fantasising about brushed her shoulders and slid down her arms. Lilya’s eyes snapped to Neve to check if it was all in her head- but judging by her bugged-out stare, it wasn’t just some intense daydream.

“This won’t do,” he tutted against her temple, his fingers caressing the smooth skin along her biceps as he huffed out his approval. “You’re so cold, Doc. We can’t have that.” He trailed his fingertips down her arms, thrilled by the gooseflesh that rose at her nape. It took everything in him not to run his lips over it and up her neck, to make the rest of her body tingle with his kisses- but her friend looked like she’d probably burn his eyes out if he tried anything more than what she already allowed with her friend.

Illario shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders, his hands running down the line of her arms once more, firmer, not meant to tease, but to remind her how he had touched her when they were alone. “Here you go, Doc. You need it more than I do. I’d offer you a ride home, but I doubt you’d accept it. I do hope you have a lovely evening.” He squeezed her hands, and she almost squeezed back, her cheek pressed against the lapel of his jacket, facing him but unable to look him in the eye. Dangerous things happened when she met his gaze. 

Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He disappeared into his town car and did not even look back at her when they drove off. 

Lilya pulled the large jacket around her frame and let herself take in the fading scent of his cologne and closed her eyes as flashes of their kiss earlier that day flooded her mind, how wonderful it felt to be back in his arms with his mouth on hers- 

Neve stared at her friend, blinking blankly. She hadn’t seen her like this about a man since she had dated Ashur, the man who broke her heart to become a priest. By her glazed-over look alone, whatever the two shared was more explosive and intense than what Lilya had with the man she was convinced she’d marry. After things ended between them, the poor girl stopped dating and focused only on her career. Sure, there were casual flings, a friendly booty call whom she trusted enough to call upon whenever human contact was a necessity- but the look on her face screamed to Neve that this was not someone she was going to get over through willpower and abstinence from him alone. 

“Oh my darling, Lilya. You went and done it.” 

She looked up at Neve with confusion, her brows furrowing together as she continued to unconsciously revel in the scent of the man, her expression gradually softening the more she inhaled his scent from his collar. “Done what?” 

“Gone and fallen for him, obviously.” 

“Wha-no! I don’t even know the man, I can’t, you don’t just- I mean I certainly don’t - people don’t do this! A-Adults don’t do this!” she spluttered, growing increasingly flustered as her vehement denials piled up, her anxiety rising with a sharp sting of what she recognised as cognitive dissonance. “... Neve.” 

The detective hushed her, extinguishing her cigarette with her heel and opened up her arms again for Lilya to snuggle back into her embrace. “Don’t worry, Lil, there are worse things than being head over heels for a guy like that.”  “... There is?” she asked, her voice muffled between them.  Neve nodded and smiled softly. “Mhmm. You could like them, and they could not know you exist. Or they know you exist, but just don’t care. Thankfully for you, that man, oh Lilya, that man looks like you’re the only thing that exists. And at the very least, I know that he has excellent taste in women… And clothes, this jacket is fabulous.”

——— 

They sat in the backseat of the Uber, and Neve was chatting about something to do with shoe polish, nail polish or Polish sausage, but she just couldn’t keep her mind from straying to a certain man with cheekbones so sharp they should have been classified as weapons. Lips so plush that she wanted to spend hours just nibbling on them and-

“... Want a napkin for your drool?”

“Huh?” she answered eloquently, turning to face her quickly, a surprised look on her dazed face. Neve laughed and leaned against the side of the door, taking a long look at her and laughing even harder. “What?! What is it?”

“You really bloody like this guy.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?” Lilya groused, shirking away and sitting with her back ramrod straight against the seat.

“You were spacing out with a dreamy look on your face. You have never done that except when you first started dating Ashur; you certainly haven't done it since. Well, I mean, except for right now, of course,” she said, leaning over to pinch her friend’s cheek and getting pinched in return. “Ah- hey! Don’t shoot the messenger! It’s not my fault you’re so repressed, you didn’t notice it!”

Lilya threatened to pinch her again, but kept her hands to herself. It was hardly fair to do so when her friend was right. She really hadn’t noticed, just told herself it was all in her head and that it was hormones and couldn’t be anything else… especially with someone like Illario Dellamorte. Even with the things she had to dismiss because it was a secondhand account from Lucanis, it didn’t mean he wasn’t splashed around in the society pages.

After her initial meeting with him, her mild obsession took over her, so she did the perfectly normal thing to do: she googled the shit out of him. He wasn’t hard to find, and he wasn’t particularly secretive about who he was and what he did. He’d been seen with different debutantes and heiresses from around the world, attending fashion shows, and of course, she’d heard his name spoken by people in her circle at times, though she never paid attention to it. They didn’t run in the same crowds, but it didn’t mean their lives couldn’t occasionally intersect. Both of them came from money; his older than hers, but both names and fortunes were well respected. Outside of their family businesses, they were unlikely to have met, except perhaps as a brief greeting at a benefit or a mutual acquaintance’s gala event.

And yet. They met. And every subsequent time they met, the feeling in her chest grew more insistent… she didn’t want to admit it, but not being able to kiss him before physically hurt, like something was torn away from her. She kept herself hidden, hiding behind the pretence of professionalism and what was right. She had followed the rules; her patient was well looked after and no longer under her care. There was no hard and fast length of time that she had to wait to start something with Illario, but still, she would need to speak to her licensing board. Was that something she wanted to do? Did she want to risk her credibility, possibly undermine people’s trust in her, just because she had a little crush? That stuff followed you forever. Was this worth the pain? Could she live without ever knowing?

“Hey Neve.”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna abuse your powers as a detective?”

Neve sent her a sidelong glance and crossed her arms. “... I’m listening.”

“You want to get me Illario’s address? If I recall correctly, he lived uptown because it only took about ten minutes to get to my clinic from his place… I don’t really remember much because I ran out of his house so quickly the last time. This way I can go there real quick and confirm whether all I’m feeling is just me being hornier than I’ve ever felt, or if I actually like him you know.. as a person and stuff.”

Their driver choked on his drink.

“Yeah… no. Not doing that for you. Surely there’s someone in your family who knows him. Just ask them. Go to his office-”

“I’m not doing that again.”

“Again? Maker, I need to be caught up on the latest gossip.”

“Thank you for nothing, you upstanding pillar of the law.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now I’m going to have to call him.”

“...You had his number all this time?” Neve stared at her agape, shaking her head at her friend.

“Yeah?”

“And you didn’t call him?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Damn. That’s big. Such restraint from your part.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re obviously really into him, Lil.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“I have eyes. They both work just fine. I may only have one leg, but both my eyes are in tip-top shape. You’re biting your lip, your right leg is bouncing nervously, and your left thumb is flicking at each fingertip- you’re nervous. You’re excited. It’s cute.”

“Shut up. Just keep smoking and ruin your eyes already, stop seeing things so well.”

“Damn. Such a hater.”

The phone was ringing and she was so close to hanging up, freaking out that she was about to get his voicemail and she didn’t know what to say. ‘Hey Illario, it’s Lilya. Uh. Dr Lilya de Riva… in case you know more Lilya’s. Anyway, Yeah. So, this is my number, and now you have it. Now, I’m going to anxious-puke into this driver’s backseat console. Bye.’ That would charm the pants right back on to him and super glue them in place.

She was going to hang up-

“Hello?”

Shit. Damn. Shit. Shit!

“...Hello?”

Lilya squeezed her eyes shut and weathered the good-natured slaps from Neve after she heard the deeper voice on the other end of the line.

“Maker, Zara, if this is you-”

“I sure hope you don’t lump me in the same boat as your ex, Mr. Dellamorte,” she replied, Neve nodding and silently snapping her fingers to amp her up. She was a shit, but she was her shit, Maker bless her. Lilya heard a surprised huff, and a delicious chuckle followed. She could imagine him dipping further into the seat of his town car, his head thrown back on the headrest, his hand deep in his pocket, and the biggest grin on his face. As if he had won a bet, and her crawling back to him was his prize.

“I would never, Doc. It hurts that you think I ever would,” he said swiftly, and Lilya could hear the smile in his voice. It almost made her want to hang up just to spite him, but that would get them nowhere. “Zara is a breed unto her own. But then again, so are you-”

“...What?!”

“She is an accident of nature. You are the pinnacle of it, hardly comparable.”

Oh, he was smooth; she would give him that.

Neve mouthed, ‘ask for his address,’ and Lilya smacked her, earning a kick in the shin from her prosthetic, and she yelped loudly, causing Illario to ask if she was okay, obvious concern flooding his tone. Her friend whispered her apologies and tried to rub her smarting leg, the commotion resulting in their hushed voices talking over each other.

“Stop it!”

‘‘No, I’m so sorry!”

“Would you stop touching me!”

“Oh, Lil, I feel terrible. I take it back, you can sleep with Elek.”

“What the hell is going on over there?” he asked, his amusement shadowed by worry that the woman might accept the offer to sleep with another man. “Lilya?!”

Lilya pushed her friend off of her and put the phone back to her ear, cursing that she would sound more winded and agitated than before. “Hi, yes, yes, I’m here! Sorry about that. If you see that a woman was killed in the back seat of her Uber, and her friend was the prime suspect, I was with you all evening? Okay?”

She heard him laugh, and she hated to admit that she liked how it sounded- deep and rich. “You got it, alibi secured, you were with me all night- murder away.”

Lilya paused and reminded herself that fortune only favoured the brave. “Do… Do you think we could make that alibi… real?” she said, instantly smacking her forehead to her palm, if that didn’t sound like the worst way to invite herself over for a booty call, she didn’t know what was.

A long stretch of silence played on between them as Illario processed what she had said.

“Um… hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Doc.”

“It’s fine. Ignore me. I just… I’m going to go- I’m so sorry to call you so late-”

“I’ll text you my address… unless you want to text me yours?”

“I… we’re not going to have sex!” she blurted out, Neve snorting in the background, and again, Illario laughed.

“Well, that’s a shame, but I figured as much. I’ll send it to you now, see you soon,” he said, promptly hanging up.

---

The woman never failed to surprise him.

Just half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to win the woman over; he was going to break down her walls, systematically destroy every argument she had to oppose him, and bend every rule there was to get to her. Nothing was going to stop him.

Except her, apparently. Beating him to the punch.

His driver pulled out in front of his building as instructed, and Illario sat back and laughed.

---

Lilya finished fixing herself up - “Yeah, you’re definitely not here to have sex aye, Lil, there’s another reason why you’re pushing your tits up and over your dress” - and pressed call icon under his name, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder as she climbed out of the car. She didn’t even hear one full ring before it cut off to his voicemail, the generic robotic voice telling her to leave a message, and she hung up, ready to text him back saying she was in front of his building.

“Fancy seeing you here, Doc.”

It was unfair that the man moved so smoothly that he made walking look like he was dancing. She was so entranced by him that he had almost made it to the front of the Uber.

“N-No, wait, stop!” she called out, arm out in front of her, shocking the man to pause with a confused look. “I just… You need to be over there, and I need to be here.”

Illario stuck his tongue in his cheek and grinned, trying not to snicker. “Oh, you do? I wonder why that is?”

“Oh, don’t tease me, Mr Dellamorte,” she sassed him back, hugging his jacket tighter around him, which for some reason he seemed to approve of.

“Why not? You know from experience just how good at it I am.”

He licked at his incisor, and Lilya was tempted to tell him to stop doing that, but she knew he’d relish it far too much. Because she would, if she were in his shoes. Lilya pressed her lips together and shooed him back, Illario raising his arms with his elbows bent in question as he stepped backward until he was in line with the back of his car. “Alright… that’s… that’s far enough.”

“I’m sorry- are you talking? I can’t hear you from over here in Orlais,” he called out, shoving his hands into his pockets. Maker. She hadn’t noticed before but he had rolled up his sleeves and she could see his toned forearms, part of her remembering how some of his veins had become more visible when he had held her up by her hips and she- damn it.

“Just… please, you owe me, remember?” she said, with enough edge to her voice that made Illario drop his usual tone. He gently dipped his head to show he yielded and stood there quietly, waiting for her next move. “I don’t know… whatever it is this is that seems to be between us,” she started, searching for the right words, “but… it will not let me be. I am not too proud to say that you have been on my mind more than I care to admit. But I am not sure if that’s just because we have good chemistry, or if there’s an actual connection there. And I need to know.”

Illario tilted his head to the side and appraised her, unsure of what she meant. Wasn’t that the same thing?

“I know next to nothing about you, the real you, we’ve met less than a handful of times, and we did not do a lot of talking for it to be a viable connection. But I can’t help but wonder… if I'm wrong. And if I am- am I okay with never knowing that?”

He took a moment to mull over her words and deemed them fair enough. Logically, what she said was correct, but for him, it didn’t quite fit. He had never experienced what they shared before in his life; he had so many partners and some of the most intense sexual escapades one could have, but none left him reeling like that night with her. The kisses they shared in his office had felt like he was able to think again, as if everything noisy within him had gone quiet, stilled, and steady. Nothing in his life had ever been able to do that, no drink, no drug, no one. Except this woman who picked him up from a bar and then literally ran out of his life.

“How do you propose to answer this?” he asked, crossing his arms and fixing her with a discerning stare.

“We shall play a game.”

“... A…game?”

“Mhmm. You ask a question, and if I like the answer, you can step forward; if I don’t, you take a step back. I will do the same. Until we either finally meet or stay apart. Do you agree?”

“Does that count as the first question?”

“Illario.”

“Step forward.”

“What?”

“You called me by my name. I liked your answer. Please step forward.”

Lilya’s laughter bubbled out of her without her realising, covering her mouth to stifle herself, as she didn’t need one of his uppity neighbours calling the police on her for being unruly. Though thankfully, it was Antiva, the city never truly slept. “You tricky bastard. I get to ask two questions now.”

“What the hell- that’s not how you said we played the game.”

“I also didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Are you sure you’re not a lawyer? That doesn’t seem like a therapist-y thing to say.”

“I am. That counts as another one of your questions, by the way, so now I guess I have three questions in a row to ask you,” she said, doing her best not to smile or gloat. Illario’s eyes squinted at her as a grin appeared on his face, chuckling into his hand when he knew he’d been played.

“Please step forward again. What can I say, I liked your answer, Doc. Almost makes me wish you worked for me, that’s some hard ball negotiating even I couldn’t argue against… but I guess if you did work for me, we wouldn’t be here in front of my building playing this weird game at midnight, so, I’ll just be happy you’re not on my payroll.”

“You couldn’t afford me on your payroll.”

“I am wealthy.”

“So am I… and if you tell me to step forward because of that answer, I will lose it.”

Illario raised his hands in surrender and mock innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, it wasn’t a question.”

Three questions. She had three questions to ask him when there were so many that raced around her mind. Go with your gut, it hasn’t led you astray yet. “Alright, what were you doing in the club tonight?”

“I was going to meet someone there for business, I hadn’t expected to find you there.” She nodded, and he took a step forward.

“If money weren’t an object, what would you be doing with your life?”

He paused and took the time to think out his answer. “The thing is, Doc… money isn’t an issue. I’ve never really thought about it because I didn’t think I could think about it. My life has been planned for me since the day I was born. This is who I am. I don’t think… the question should be if money weren’t an object. It should be, if I weren’t a Dellamorte, what would I be doing with my life?”

She had not expected him to be so candid, especially with the witty and flirty responses she had become accustomed to. Lilya nodded again, and he took a step. “Do you see yourself in a committed relationship in the future?”

“Yes.”

It was the way he said it, with his eyes pinned to hers and the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, that made her swallow audibly. He said that with his whole chest. No hesitation. Eyes on the prize. That’s the second time she thought of herself as a prize, that was some egotistical shit right there. She felt herself nod, and he took a larger step toward her, but she said nothing against it, for he answered a big question.

“That’s three questions. My turn. Why did you call me?”

“I-” she stopped talking, about to give some stupid answer, but she owed it to herself to be honest. “... My friend in the car there… shared some keen insight with me that I truly hadn’t considered, and I needed to make sure before resigning myself to a course of action. What-ifs always kill me.”

“Take a step, Doc.”

Lilya took a step forward and realised she was already in front of the side mirror of the car, and Illario was already midway by the driver’s window. “Who was the one that got away?”

He leaned back and laughed, his eyes crinkling shut with such mirth that she was inspired to smile back at him.

“Doc… isn’t it obvious?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Believe it or not, I am not accustomed to anyone running away from me, let alone getting away from me.”

“So is that it- you’re just intrigued because I’m the first one who didn’t fall over themselves to be with you straight away?”

“That may be a part of it. I don’t know,” he shrugged, still smiling like an idiot. “All I do know is that there is something about you, something in me can’t shake. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to forget about you, I’ve tried to meet other people, but whatever it is inside me doesn’t seem to want to work if it’s not you.”

“They have pills for that now, by the way. Small. Blue. Popular with the men, I hear.”

“Fuck me, Doc, you’re killing me here,” he groaned, shaking his head with a grin.

The sound of a window rolling down, and they were met with a very unimpressed Neve. She looked up at Lilya and tapped on her phone at the time. “Are we planning to stay here all night? Henry needs to get to sleep; he has an early start tomorrow.”

“Who the hell is Henry?” Lilya asked, utterly befuddled.

“Our driver! He’s been waiting here, watching you two play footpath footsie for the last ten minutes, and we’re his last ride. Either you wrap this up now, or we need to let him go.”

Illario strode forward and bowed down slightly in front of Neve’s door with his right hand over his heart in apology. “I am so sorry to you and your driver, please, let my driver take you wherever you need to be.”

“I’m not leaving, I’m invested now,” Neve replied nonplussed. “And I’m not leaving her without a ride, without a witness. I don’t care how pretty you are, there’s just no way. Not with what I’ve seen in this world,” she said, looping her arm around Lilya’s waist. The doctor looked upon the detective with grateful eyes and hugged her back, thankful to have such a friend.

“Alright, Dellamorte, speed round- if I told you we needed to wait two years because I need to adhere to what my licensing board expected of me after reporting this, what would you do? Would you move on, or would you wait with the possibility that whatever you’re feeling would dissipate before the time was even finished?”

“I’d wait.”

“You can’t answer that quickly!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something that can be answered quickly, especially by someone who spent ages pondering what they’d like to do if they were able to!”

“Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m the CFO of our conglomerate. My job involves literally looking at something, running the numbers, casting projections, reviewing potential returns on investments, and analysing our cost-to-benefit ratio for all our acquisitions. I already know that if I invest two years of time in you, whatever I get would produce a return I can’t even quantify. There is only one risk I can see.”

“What’s that?”

“That you don’t see the same when you look at me.”

Lilya’s hand shot out and grabbed Neve by the arm, fingers wrapping around her wrist tightly, as if to ground her and convince herself she wasn’t dreaming. Her friend’s hand rested on top of hers and squeezed back.

“Shit, Lil. If you don’t kiss him, I just might.”

Illario smirked. He almost said “I’m game” in reflex when he realised that, surprisingly, he wasn’t. There was another beautiful woman in front of him paying a compliment he’d normally eat up, but he could only focus on the one who had been haunting him for months on end.

“Take… take many steps forward,” Lilya said against her better judgement.

Neve clucked her tongue and moved toward Illario’s car, talking over her shoulder in their general direction. “I will hop in with -“

“Marcel.”

“That’s right, thank you, Illario. I’ll hop in with Marcel and circle the block a few… dozen… times. You two talk. I’ll be back soon… ish. Lil, I’m a phone call away. He does anything- you call me, and you won’t even need an alibi if something happens to him.”

“Tough words from the cop who wouldn’t even get me an address.”

Neve turned on her heel and pressed her hand daintily to her chest as if she were offended. “There are some sacred lines you just don’t cross, Lil. I’ll be back. Make good choices. Remember, public indecency isn’t cool. So don’t get caught.”

“Just go, Neve!”

Lilya exhaled and closed her eyes, exasperated at her bestie’s antics. She heard the click of his shoes against the pavement and knew he took liberty with how many steps were classified as “many,” stopping short, just in front of her. It was her fault. She had not been specific.

“What is truly holding you back?” he asked, hands twitching at his sides with his need to touch her again. Up close, he could see it, the flicker of emotions, the rapid fire of thoughts as they moved across her face. She was choosing her words carefully, weighing them not just for him, but for herself as well.

“The professional aspects are a real concern. It is. I worked too long, too hard and care about my patients too much to lose everything- because my licence can be taken away from me, because of this,” Lilya said as she wildly gestured between them. She took a breath and hugged herself, knowing there was no point in indulging her self-denial any longer. “And yeah, that’s not just it- there’s more luggage than that to unpack. I know there is, and none of it is your fault. I don’t know quite how to fix it because there was no one worth fixing it for before”

He gave in to his desire, reaching for her waist and pulling her gently toward him, closing the last sliver of distance- bringing them back to where they’d been earlier that evening, earlier that day. Just a breath apart. Lilya’s hands moved without thought, settling against his chest. The fine silk of his shirt was warm beneath her fingers, smooth and soft, just like the skin she remembered, the skin she shouldn’t still be thinking about. But she was.

“Final question… You seem willing to go through with this. The waiting. My ethical responsibilities. The crazy friends I keep in the wings to torment you… all of it…”

“That’s a statement, not a question. It’s a true statement surely, but not a question, Doc.”

Lilya’s nails lightly grazed along his chest as she curled her hands into fists, a frown playing at her lips. “The question is… would you go through with all of it, even if it meant hurting your cousin? Because it might. It could really hurt him if we were to continue. Are you willing to do that?”

Illario froze. Could it? Could he?

Lilya smiled sadly at his hesitation- read him like a headline. She took a step back, both of them instantly colder for it.

“And that… that right there. That is why we can’t do this.”

He reached for her, his instincts overriding everything, but she stepped further out of his reach. Illario could feel his heart pounding in his chest as she took another. They were so close, right there, and he felt the chance slip through his fingers. How did the closing of this door feel worse than any of his actual relationships? Were they all so shallow that this flicker of real, actual connection with someone meant more to him than anything he had before? Was that a thing?

“… Yeah, Neve. Come back. It’s okay- I’m fine, I’m fine, we’ve just finished talking. Mhmm. Yup. We’ll get another ride. See you soon.”

Clearing his throat, Illario blinked a few times to come back to himself. “You can take my car. I said he’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“ I couldn’t-“

“You can. You should. Please, I insist.”

“I… thank you.”

They stood in silence as they waited for Neve to return. Lilya shivered and suddenly realised she was still wearing his jacket.

“I should- your jacket”

“It’s fine. Keep it until you get home.”

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.”

An eternity passed as they stood side by side, the awkward tension growing by the second. She wanted to tell him to go inside, but she knew he’d tell her he wasn’t going to leave her alone, and then it would be even more awkward because it would make her heart flutter. Even more than the mere thought of it already did.

“Just tell me this. What was the point then, of coming here? Of this entire exercise?”

“If it were just about sex, then I might be able to sublimate that I’m human and I can make one more mistake. Get you out of my system. But I think... that it’s more than chemistry. And to go into anything with that knowledge, I can’t even pretend to know how to face doing that every day. To choose to make a mistake that hurts the people I promised to help, every day. That’s not who I am.”

“So if it was just sex that’d be fine, but because I actually like you, that’s what makes it worse?!”

“Yes.”

“You shrinks are messed up, you know that?”

“Yes.”

“So what… this is it. For real. No chance of anything, now or in two years?”

“… Yes.”

He swallowed as an acrid taste, like something burnt, bloomed at the back of his throat. “Fine. Then, please, as a man who makes mistakes, may I just have one more? For our old fuck-ups’ sake?”

She looked at him for a moment, something fragile and knowing in her eyes, and then she nodded- slowly, solemnly- with no illusions or promises. Just the quiet agreement of two people who had already said goodbye in everything but gesture.

He stepped down off the curb. She stood slightly above him on the footpath, and he couldn’t help but notice, with a flicker of fond amusement he knew he shouldn’t have, that even now, he was still taller. Illario reached up, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, fingers longing to linger upon her skin. She was still utterly, impossibly enchanting, more so in this moment, wrapped in silence and streetlight and the ache of what they wouldn’t become. And maybe that’s why it hurt. Because she was standing right there, close enough to touch, but still not his.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then her temple. And finally, a last, gentle kiss to her lips. Chaste, reverent, a farewell shaped from the affection he bore her from the fleeting moments they had shared. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t have to. They both knew this was the end of it.

When he stepped back, the space between them felt even heavier than before. He had wanted to say something cool or suave or, at the very least, memorable, but his car turned the corner and he missed his chance. Again.

A cold wind tugged at her as if it was urging her to stay back, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. The tension between them, once warm with possibility, cooled fast, like a breath on glass- already fading. She reached for the right words, but found none that would give him the solace he deserved after what she put them through, to sate her own damn curiosity.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she began, meeting his eyes one last time, “I’m thankful to know it was more than sex between us. I’ll mourn it… and be grateful. For what could have been. And I’ll rest easier knowing it wasn’t just chemistry- it was real.” She inhaled sharply, bracing herself. “It just… couldn’t be.”

The silence stretched on between them, tremulous, terrible and tender.

The car pulled up behind him, its headlights slicing through the darkness like a spotlight on a stage, the last act of their messy play. He stepped back, his face unreadable, jaw clenched in silent compliance. He opened the door for her without a word, but his eyes followed her like she was about to step behind a closing curtain he wasn’t ready to let fall.

“Goodbye, Mr. Dellamorte.”

A nod.

“See you around, Dr de Riva.”

Their formality a shield, an effort at dignity between them as they both unravelled.

She slid into the car and he did not look away, even as the shadows stole her from him.

She collapsed into Neve’s waiting arms, embracing her without hesitation, like she’d been bracing for the impact all along. Neve had always known when Lilya was coming apart; she’d learned to listen for her unspoken words long before they were ever said. Lilya tucked her head beneath Neve’s chin, her voice muffled but unmistakably raw. “I don’t want… I can’t be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?”

Neve rested her cheek on the top of her head, her hands rubbing at her arms in quiet reassurance. “Yeah, of course. I’ll have to tidy a little… okay, a lot… but yeah. Of course.”

Lilya closed her eyes. Guilt coiled low in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she’d made the right choice for her, for them- only that she had made a choice. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

---

Outside, the car pulled away, its taillights fading into the dark. He stood there, unmoving, like a damned statue carved from an artist’s confusion and regret, watching until even the red smear of light had vanished into the night. He didn’t follow. He couldn’t. Not now. Not after that.

He laughed again, at himself, for he'd fancied himself a hunter. Told himself he would chase her, sweep her off her feet. She really never failed to surprise him. He hadn’t expected her to look at him with those big, bright eyes that told him yesand no within the same breath. She’d given him a taste of maybe, just long enough for him to believe, before snatching it away from them both like a cruel trick, some malicious sleight of hand.

She wanted him. Maker, he knew that much. She did too. It was heard in her trembling voice, felt in the way her hands had touched him, seen from the shine in her eyes she blinked back too quickly to be ever called tears- but it was there, she was there. But wanting wasn't enough. Not for her. Not when it meant hurting Lucanis. So she left- noble, broken and beautiful in retreat.

And he stood there, thoughts soaked in bitterness, drowning in the quiet. A would-be hunter, shot down before the hunt even began. Wounded not by her rejection, but by the brief flare of promise. He was just a man who wandered too close to the flame and never learnt, no matter how many times he was burnt. All he could do was bleed out silently in the dark, as she slipped away and the night closed in behind her.

——— 

Pizza for dinner? No, maybe some pasta. Or both. And some gelato, of course. 

Months had passed since she last saw Illario Dellamorte. 

True to his word, he did not call her office, did not contact her at all. She had tried to delete his number from her phone, but she couldn’t. Told herself to keep it just in case. The weeks that had passed saw her fall into a mindless routine of working, eating, and watching unenjoyable shows, where she yelled at the TV and browsed the dog shelters for a companion that she could call her own. She was the same person her patients knew, but Bellara still watched her with quiet concern, never lingering too long before glancing away, though not before Lilya caught her. She was grateful for her assistant’s sensitivity. Bellara could talk the ear off a statue and often overstepped in the most endearing and well-meaning ways, but when it came to pain- real, enduring pain- she was wise beyond her years. She recognised it even when concealed behind a smile, and knew better than to speak before Lilya was ready.

She hadn’t caught up with Neve since she spent the weekend rotting in her bed with her, her friend trying to force raw cookie dough into her mouth with whiskey in an effort to heal her. Teia had tried to call and ask her to go out for drinks or coffee, or even just to prove she was alive and not just some AI answering machine, but she kept saying she was busy or not feeling well, or that it would be some other time. 

“But you’ll come to the party, right? You said you would!”

“Yeah, Tay, of course.”

...Yeah. She lied. 

She didn’t want to be a downer at the party. The last thing Teia needed was to be watching her from the corner of her eye and babysitting her when it was her night to shine. Lilya would take her out for drinks on the weekend to celebrate and buy her something ridiculously fabulous to make up for it. She had every intention of staying in her pyjamas for an ungodly amount of time again. She scratched at her head, irritated with herself- she hadn’t even broken up with him! He wasn’t her boyfriend. But she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t miss his presence in the periphery of her life; that she wasn’t constantly thinking of him, if he was okay and had already moved on. That she wasn’t obsessively scanning the society columns to see if he’d been spotted out and about like some creepy idiot who couldn’t let go of someone who was never hers to begin with.  

She heard her front door open, and she sat up, alarmed, until she heard her brother’s voice call out to her. “Lilya? Are you home?” 

“...No?” 

“Wonderful. I’ll just wait until you’re back then, shall I?” 

“Tremendous.” 

“Lilya de Riva.” 

“Viago de Riva.” 

“Are you alone in there?” “If I were home, then yes, I’d consider myself very much alone.” 

“Are you clothed or naked?” 

“Technically, you’ll find we’re all naked under our clothes.” 

“I’m coming in.” 

“I’m not home, remember- hey! Hey! Stop tha- Viago! Stop!” she shrieked as he climbed onto her bed and locked his arms around her middle like he used to do when she was a child, half expecting him to slam her into the bed after they’d watched one too many wrestling matches. He lifted her up with such relative ease she was half tempted to ask if he had been testing a new steroid on himself- mad chemist that he was. 

He propped her up, looking over his dishevelled sibling, hair a mess, wearing what he could only assume was her very worn university sweatshirt and the biggest, baggiest pair of pyjama bottoms he had ever seen. It was unbecoming of a de Riva, and his flat, disappointed stare said as much. She scoffed at him and made to burrow back into her nest of pillows and blankets, but he caught her around the middle and threatened to throw her over his shoulder if she continued being an annoying brat. 

“Why are you here, Vi?” she said, looking like a sad wet dog. “I just want to be left alone, is that too much to ask?” 

Viago shook his head and crossed his arms, glowering at her so intensely that it would have levelled anyone else who hadn’t grown up with him. “We have. We have left you alone, and you have done nothing but fester here. What would you be saying to your patients in this situation, Lilya?” 

She gave him a sour look. How dare he use logic on her? Even worse, her logic. Asshole. 

“I just don’t feel up to going to this event and dressing up and pretending to care about celebrities and other trust fund babies, with their ridiculous blue blood issues, like not having enough of their favourite champagne available, their maids are more loved by their children than they are, or their country club’s greens aren’t green enough. I don’t have it in me, Viago.” 

He gave her a long, discerning stare, which warmed the longer he observed her. He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and squeezed, in what he hoped was a comforting act. 

“Lilya… I don’t give a shit.” 

“...What?”

“I do not give a shit,” he repeated sincerely, squeezing her shoulder again, this time his comfort was less keenly felt. “I don’t care if you don’t want to see me or return my calls, only sending me one-worded answers to show me proof of life every other week. I don’t care if you want to look like… this… or if you appear to be subsisting on grilled cheese sandwiches and take-out alone. What I care about is my own peace of mind.” 

“You just said you were happy with my text messages,” she whined, pushing his hand off of her. “Why are you making my life hell?” 

“Yes, I am happy with them. But Teia is not,” he differentiated with a pointed stare. “And if she is not happy, I am not happy. Because she continues to drive me mad talking about you. So if my life is hell, your life is hell. It is like what your mother used to tell me, sharing is caring.” 

Lilya did well not to snort in front of her already unimpressed brother. 

“So you will come with me, you will get ready, you will attend your friend’s party, and you will pretend to have a good time. You will talk, drink, and relate to those blue-blooded bastards, and you will be a damn good friend to Teia, do you understand? Because lately, you haven’t been.” 

She really hated it when he made sense. It was so typically Viago, making good points with his haughty little face, it made her both want to hug and punch him. But she figured that was how most siblings felt about each other. 

“Fine… but I am wearing UGG boots out of this house.” 

“Lilya-” 

“Teia wouldn’t have cared if I showed up to the party like this.” 

“Teia is a far better person than I am, which is why I was sent. We’re going back to the House, Teia has her team waiting to get you ready. So march down and get into the town car, young lady-”

“-Young lady?”

“I swear to the Maker, Little Bird-”

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” 

---

Lilya sat in the chair, mentally calculating the most efficient way to strangle her best friend, just enough to leave her conscious for her own celebration, of course. She’d seen the invitation tucked into Viago’s attaché case, the same one she had deliberately left unopened at her office... because well... she really had no plans to go. She hadn’t even taken it out of the envelope, just confirming she received it when Teia had asked. 

“Teia... why didn’t you tell me you were merging with Dellamorte Holdings?” 

“Why did I have to? It’s right there on the invite. Why do you ask?”

“Are you kidding me? How come it hadn’t come up before all this?! You know who I had that one-night stand with that night you got back together with Viago!” 

“Lilya, I literally have no idea who you’re talking about.” 

“What? I sent you a selfie before I left the bar that night!” 

“Which I never got, sweetie, don’t know what to tell you. The wonders of modern technology. So wait... who did you sleep with? Was it Lucanis or Illario?”

“Teia.” 

“Fuck me. It was both of them. Well Done.” 

“T E I A”

“... Oh shit. It wasn’t Caterina, was it?”

“I really need new friends.” 

“You can try, darling, but none will be as fantastic as I am. Now... was that a yes or no to the cousin threesome? If you don’t respond, I’m just going to start making up nasty assumptions that line up with my expectations of you. I’m thinking you all wanted to use a hot tub, but it was too small, and you had to sit on one of their laps? Or their face? Tell me everything and prove me wrong.”

Upon arriving and fixing her friend with a glare sharp enough to make Teia laugh, she immediately slipped into the background, doing her best to remain unnoticed. She lingered at the fringes of the party, making polite conversation in small groups, her eyes scanning the room, careful to avoid seeing or being seen by... someone.

Still, she breathed a little easier. Even in a room full of acclaimed producers, directors, and entertainers, Teia shone. Resplendent as ever, she drew every gaze. As CEO of the country’s largest entertainment group, she had always been impossible to ignore. Viago stood beside her as if he’d been photoshopped there, polished, rigid, and pristine. But that was nothing new to any of their peers. He had long been known as a bit of a snob: reserved and wholly uninterested in mingling with... people. They weren’t there for him anyway. They were there for the glamorous woman on his arm, dressed in a deep red gown with a back so low it revealed the tattoo she’d gotten on their girls’ trip to Rivain, the one they took to celebrate Lilya’s high school graduation. Teia wore it without apology, clearly unfazed by who might see it.

She had worked hard to secure this deal, and tonight she deserved her moment. But that didn’t stop her from glancing over her shoulder, checking that Lilya was alright.

Pushy or not, there was no better friend in the world than Teia Cantori.

“Lilya?” 

She paused, panic spreading through her in an instant. 

“Lilya de Riva? My dear, it has been too long!” 

She relaxed. She knew that voice, and it was not his.  

Spinning on her heel, she turned to see the gentle face of her old professor, Emmrich Volkarin, dressed to the nines as always, holding a flute of champagne and a tiny plate of hors d'oeuvres. Lilya smiled for the first time in what felt like days and reached out for her old friend, kissing him warmly on the cheek. 

“Professor Volkarin! Hello! Pardon my surprise, I wasn’t expecting you here!” 

“Please, Lilya, Emmrich. I’ve not been your teacher for many years now,” he gushed, carefully propping his food and drink at a nearby table. With his hands free, he greeted his favourite ex-student with a firm hug, the professor not releasing her until she let go first. Perhaps she should have let go sooner, for when she peered back up at the vertically gifted man, he was staring at her with concern. Always far too perceptive for his own good. “My dear…” 

Lilya shook her head and picked up a glass of champagne from one of the roving servers and sipped at it nervously. “Please don’t, Professor.” 

“What is troubling you?” 

“Nothing at all. Tell me, how is teaching these days? And your practice? Is Strife here too?” she asked hurriedly, clearly changing the topic. He sighed heavily and frowned; the lines around his mouth deepened, but did nothing to diminish his handsome looks. 

“Alas, he is off to a dig site somewhere deep in Arlathan again; otherwise, I would have wrangled that man into a tuxedo. You will be glad to know that my teaching still proves to be an exciting endeavour! Finding like-minded souls, like yourself, and helping them find their paths to help others is always fulfilling. And whilst I’ve pared back my private practice hours, it is still good to be out there assisting people,” he said pointedly, picking up his glass and saluting her before taking a drink. 

Lilya groaned quietly but could feel herself smile nonetheless. Emmrich Volkarin was the best in their field for a reason. She wiped at the lip gloss that had stained the rim of her glass to shift focus from her friend’s intense gaze, not wanting to divulge everything to him in such a public area. As if reading her mind, he offered his arm and led them to a seating area outside the function room, where only a few people were about. He sat them down and took both of her hands into his, patting them lightly as he had when she had broken down in her honours year, after her laptop was stolen and along with it her half-written thesis. 

“Lilya… we’ve known each other for years, and I consider you a dear friend and colleague,” he said gently. “Please, let me help.”

“Viago called you, didn’t he?” she asked, glancing up to find her brother watching them from the hall. Nosy bastard. 

Emmrich chuckled awkwardly and gave a slight nod. “He did. Invited me to have a chat with you as he believed you would not be so open to meet with me otherwise. He’s still fiercely protective of you, even after all this time.”

“That’s one word for it,” she muttered, but she managed a tight smile in Viago’s direction before turning back to the professor. “I… You’re going to be so disappointed in me,” she whispered, her voice catching. Shame, sadness, and guilt welled up all at once, turning her bright eyes glassy. 

“Disappointed? Goodness, no. Concerned... well, perhaps. But never disappointed. You’ve always been one to hold yourself to such impossible standards.” Emmrich’s expression softened, but he remained measured as he always did.

Lilya smiled weakly and gathered her courage, edging closer to him on the couch, not wanting anyone to hear her admit to what had happened between her, Illario, and the consequences for Lucanis’ treatment. Everything that had passed in the last six months, the almost-something that happened between them and the fact that she embarrassingly, still could not get over it so long afterwards. 

“How foolish of me, right?” 

Emmrich exhaled gently. “Matters of the heart make fools of all of us,” he said, voice warm but cautious. “But you’re right, this is indeed a complicated situation you’ve found yourself in. And unfortunately, it’s not one I can advise you on directly, not while I’m still working with Lucanis.”

Lilya blinked. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position-”

He shook his head kindly to comfort her. “You’re not. But this is something where your own judgement, and your ability to navigate ethically, matter more than anything I could tell you. The fact that you're thinking about Lucanis’ well-being, even now, says a great deal about you.”

She nodded slowly, though her throat tightened as she prodded further into the matter. “But let’s say, hypothetically, that the feelings weren’t one-sided. That there’s still something unresolved. Wouldn’t proceeding with it still risk damaging Lucanis? Another betrayal from the people he trusted?”

Emmrich took a moment, then offered a steady, thoughtful smile. “You may be right. Or not at all. The only way to know is to talk to him, when the time is right. If you truly care about both of them, clarity and honesty are the best path forward.”

Lilya gave a strained laugh and smoothed the skirt of her dress, fingertips dancing over the fabric. “Truly, there’s hardly any point. Just because I’m still holding onto something doesn’t mean Illario is. Once I told him this could hurt Lucanis, he hesitated, and that’s where we parted ways. Men like him don’t pine for women like me, Professor.”

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with the familiar expression he wore in class when she thought she’d nailed the right answer, only to realise she had failed to take in all the variables of the situation.

“Ah, Lilya,” he said, smiling fondly. “Perhaps I still have a few things left to teach you.”

---

Another glass of Negroni was thrust into his hand, and he grunted his thanks, ignoring the dry laugh that followed shortly. 

“Why thank you for that Lucanis, how kind of you to refill my drink Lucanis, why am I being such a pain in your ass, Lucanis? Oh, I don’t know Illario. Perhaps it’s because you’re a pain in my ass on days that end with a Y,” he teased, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. “Seriously, you should be happy. The merger has passed, and you’re the talk of the finance world once again, cousin. The Cantori acquisition was a good choice, Caterina is happy.” 

“...Happy?” Illario asked, choking on his drink. 

Lucanis cringed and grinned sheepishly, offering a lame half shrug. “Well, as happy as that woman can seem.” 

“If that woman ever cracked a smile, it would be a Satinalia miracle.” 

“Just because you’re in a shitty mood doesn’t mean you need to wish for the world to witness that particular eldritch horror rise,” Lucanis snorted, turning around to lean against the bar like his cousin. “But back to my original point-”

“You had one?” 

“Surprisingly, yes. You are standing here like you don’t want to be here-”

“I don’t want to be here.” 

“And yet here we are- because it’s our duty, our business. This is your triumph, Illario. You convinced us this venture was worth it, and yet these past few months, you’ve done nothing but sulk.” He paused, studying the man beside him. “Is it me? Did you prefer it when I was angry with you?”

Lucanis had long forgiven him, but his anger had taken time to fade, lingering much longer than he wanted. Yet upon hearing that Zara had managed to get to his cousin and assault him, he was pulled straight out of his fog of resentment- he was not going to let that witch near his family again. Illario had seemed glad enough to have him back at first. But the longer they spent together, the more he noticed the changes: the far-off stares when he thought no one was looking, the sudden fascination with the colour green. He wore it more often now, and he’d vetoed the original navy palette for the celebration, insisting it should be green instead- to represent new beginnings, growth, and expansion, he’d said.

He’d even met with the event coordinators personally, selecting every piece of foliage that now adorned the space. The walls were cloaked in lush shrubbery, and hanging ruscus vines cascaded like curtains, framing the room in a quiet, elegant beauty. Pops of white and green ranunculus and hydrangeas subtly drew one’s eye deliberately around the room. If Illario ever tired of being their CFO, he could’ve easily slipped into a career in event design. His flair for the dramatic had finally found a worthy outlet, rather than just his closet or his choice in romantic pursuits.  

Lucanis had tried to engage him, to see if his ex, rearing her cursed head, was the cause of the sudden change in his mood, or if something else was to blame. The team had told him that there was another woman that day in the office who had been roped into helping Illario, and it looked like there could have been a spark between them, but that was the last they’d seen of her. Typical Illario, he was not one to stay with one partner for too long- Zara was the anomaly and a dangerous one at that. Illario was probably tired or stressed after holding both jobs for so long, due to his unintended sabbatical.

“Say, Illario, how about after this event wraps up, you take the next couple of weeks off? A month, two even- however long you need to recharge.” Illario narrowed his eyes at him as he chewed on an olive. “I know you did a lot behind the scenes when I was gone, let me return the favour. Take some time off, Maker knows you have too much leave accumulated- our HR team has been hounding me to force you to take leave for a few months now.” 

“Like you can talk, HR said you needed to take even more time off.” 

“Yes, it is obvious we need hobbies outside of work. But please, think about it. Maybe some time away from here will do you some good,” Lucanis said earnestly, causing Illario to pause mid-drink before agreeing to think about it. He clapped Illario on the back and was about to suggest they head off to re-join Teia and her date when he noticed two familiar guests enter through the main entrance. “Is that.. Why is my past therapist and current therapist here tonight? Did you invite them?” 

“What?!” Illario’s reaction was instantaneous; he snapped to attention, eyes locked across the room, and Lucanis followed his gaze.

Lilya.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. Of all the women in the room, of course it would be her.

Illario didn’t speak, didn’t move. But Lucanis didn’t need him to. The way his cousin watched her, like someone staring at a memory that should’ve faded by now, but hadn’t. Like he’d tried to forget her, tried to let it go, but couldn’t. She should have been a ghost by now, something half-remembered and harmless. But there she was. Real. Beautiful. And still not his.

That look told Lucanis everything.

---

Illario straightened to his full height to see across the room, his eyes locked onto the two arm-in-arm and obviously attending the soiree together. He saw her first, of course, found her easily. He always did.

Even in a crowded room in a sea of black, she drew his gaze like a secret he wasn’t supposed to want to remember. She hadn’t meant to stand out; he knew her well enough to see that. The strapless black gown she wore was simple and sophisticated. It clung to her like water, dark as ink, flowing over her form. Even from across the room, the way the fabric drank in the light, soft and heavy, he knew it had to be velvet. Something so wonderfully tactile, encouraging your partner to touch you, to run their palms over you again and again - it seemed like the perfect choice for her. Lilya had leaned in to something that Teia had whispered, and she smacked her playfully; the satin trim at her chest catching the light when she moved, tempting him to follow every movement. How could something so little, so innocuous, affect him still?

He told himself to look away. He even managed it… for all of three seconds. But when his eyes slid back across the room, there she was, laughing politely at something the man beside her said. His hand was too familiar on her back, his smile too warm, too satisfied with himself. He had to remind himself it would not be a good look to beat up a guest at an event he was hosting. It might send the wrong message about how he conducted business. 

Though, thinking about hurting the man wasn’t technically against any rules. He shouldn’t have been there anyway, not with her. Not if the reasons she'd given him months ago still meant anything. Too soon. Too complicated. Too inappropriate- she’d said. For Lucanis- she’d said. She was the one who had drawn the line, snatched back any possibility with a trembling smile, and told him it was for the best. And yet here she was, arm-in-arm with someone whose conflicts ran deeper than his did. The man was in charge of Lucanis’ treatment, right? So it didn’t make sense. Or was her refusal simply a matter of politeness? That night, as she stood in his embrace, did she realise that he wasn’t worth the trouble, but found the old man was? 

He couldn’t let his bitterness show. Not tonight, not in front of Lucanis. He stood with his drink and a mask of practised indifference, but his chest felt heavy. Because no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Even in something so deceptively simple, she was the picture of devastating beauty. While the others merely sparkled loudly, she smouldered quietly, commanding the room’s attention without having to say a word. And he, oh, he was still aflame.

He turned to the bar and requested a shot of grappa, causing Lucanis to watch him from the corner of his eye. He ignored him and swallowed it in one go, the burn of it reminding him that he didn’t care. She made her position very clear that night in front of his building, and he was not, could not, would not be interested in someone who did not want him. 

He needed another drink. 

---

Lucanis glanced between his cousin, now ordering another shot, and his therapists, past and present, who had moved with Teia further into the centre of the room, chatting cheerfully and utterly oblivious to the strain mounting between him and Illario. He exhaled through his mouth, straightened his tuxedo, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

There was nothing for it. He would have to do something before the tension drowned them all. In grappa or guilt, whatever got to them first. 

“Mierda.”

——— 

He had miscalculated. Again. What looked like a few casual steps from Illario's side became a forced march across polished floors and over-polished people, ending far too quickly in front of Viago, Teia, and their audience. He really should have taken the long way around. Teia and Viago greeted him with cordial smiles and chatter he barely caught over the pounding heartbeat in his ears.  “...I’m thrilled for Teia and for Dellamorte Holdings, of course, it’s a great deal for both companies. But I forget my manners, Lucanis, please meet esteemed Professor Emmrich Volkarin and my little sister, Lilya de Riva,” Viago said, gesturing to the people to his right, noticing the strained smiles on those he had just introduced. Lucanis cleared his throat and nodded gratefully, not wanting to give too much gossip to any prying listeners around him.

“Ah, thank you, Viago,” he finally replied, taking another sip of his drink. “We’ve… uh… we’ve all previously met,” he said, trying to ignore the way Teia’s eyes gleamed sinisterly as she mouthed something to Lilya which could have been ‘oh that’s him’, ‘so bad, Tim’ or ‘throw that thing’... he really needed to work on his lip reading, something he and Illario learnt one summer as children to spy on Caterina. “It’s a pleasure to see you here, Professor.” 

His therapist smiled and raised a glass of champagne in his direction. “A marvellous evening, Lucanis. What a wonderful celebration, a triumph on all fronts!” Lucanis turned stiffly to Lilya, who looked two shades paler than she had only a minute prior, knuckles white as she clung to the Professor’s arm. The only way one would notice that Emmrich felt any discomfort was from the tightness in his eyes and smile. 

“Dr … uh, Lilya? Nice to see you again,” he said stiffly, bowing slightly, which only seemed to delight Teia but confused her date, who was looking between them all suspiciously. “I didn’t realise that you were Viago’s sister,” he added lamely, like that mattered at all. 

Lilya shook her head and waved her hands at the same time with a stricken expression, taking a step forward and bracing a hand on his shoulder, only causing her brother to give them an even fouler look as Teia practically buzzed beside him. “No, of course. Why would you know that? I’m not one to tell anyone he’s my brother. Ever,” she said pointedly, casting a harsh look at Viago, who matched it evenly.           

Lucanis laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get the feeling, it’s the same with my cousin, Illario.” Lilya turned another shade paler and released him, wringing her hands together worriedly. “I… I was hoping to actually speak to you, if you had the time,” he said, finding his courage and offering his hand with a bow, like he was asking her to dance. “Please.” 

Lilya looked between him and Emmrich, unsure of what to do, worrying at her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to Viago. He was already watching her, mouth pressed into a warning line, jaw working like he was ready to intervene. She shook her head once, small but firm, and gave him a tiny smile-  I'm alright, stay out of it. Viago’s nostrils flared. But he gave a tight nod back, conceding to her, a rare occasion indeed.  “I- we should. We should talk-” 

“That sounds like a great idea, Lilya. Go and get to know Lucanis,” Teia grinned, reaching over and taking the drinks out of both of their hands. “In fact, you should go dance! You can talk and dance at the same time!” 

“No I-”

“Please, Lilya.” 

“I-” 

“If my sister is not feeling up to it-” Viago started, only to be quieted by his lover’s iron-like grip on his forearm. 

“I think Lilya really wants to speak to him, Vi,” she grinned with a crazed look in her eye. 

“We will, Lucanis,” Lilya finally answered, lightly touching his bicep with a concerned expression. “But this may not be the best place or time-” 

Professor Volkarin coughed dramatically, clearing his throat and examining his nails. 

“...Professor?” Lilya looked at him from the corner of her eyes expectantly. 

“Oh? Hmm, if you two feel up for a chat and a quick spin around the ballroom, I’d say that’s exactly the right way to catch up,” he said, voice light but edged with that familiar no-nonsense tone she remembered from when he caught an Honours student plagiarising half his paper. Emmrich had warned him that there were to be no excuses, or the student would be back in First Year before the week was out. Who knew such quiet authority could come wrapped in so much kindness?

“But… I don’t want to cause any more harm.” 

Lucanis smiled, re-extending his hand out to her. “You didn’t, and no harm can come from a dance between two old friends.” 

Lilya nodded and looked back at Emmrich who took her purse from her, quickly whispering in her ear that perhaps fate had different ideas as to how and when it would be best for them to talk- and that he was always there to help Lucanis should he be needed. After taking a moment to smooth out her dress and wipe her sweaty palms on the fine material, she nodded and accepted his hand, shooting final looks at Teia, who flashed her a thumbs up. Viago glared at Lucanis, and Professor Volkarin gave her an encouraging smile. 

He led her onto the floor just as the band played a tune they could waltz to, a respectful distance kept between them, both stiff and awkward in each other’s presence. Lilya was thankful that they were in a brightly lit area, so no one could claim she was doing anything untoward with him. Lucanis started the dance, and she followed easily, as etiquette and ballroom dancing lessons from her youth, which had seemed utterly irrelevant in her past, finally found some use.  

They turned about the room, Lilya focused on counting the steps and following the beat instead of paying attention to Lucanis, who looked just as uncomfortable as she did. She was tempted to break the tension, but he was the one who wanted to talk, so she would let him end their silence. He knew that was how she worked… even if she was no longer his therapist. 

“I-” he said, unsure of where to start, only to be startled when Lilya looked up at him, her eyes wide and alert at being spoken to. 

“Yes?” 

“Oh…” he said, eyes falling onto hers, the wheels in his quick mind churning a mile a minute as he joined the final pieces together. “I… well, that is to say… I’m doing well, Dr de Riva.” 

Lilya’s eyebrows turned upward and her lips pouted, belying her gratitude under such a sorrowful countenance. “That’s so good to hear, Lucanis, I’m glad for you.” 

“I know. I know you are.” He lightly squeezed her right hand in his in a reassuring grip. 

“You have to know, I never meant to hurt you, or do anything that could have potentially hurt you at all. You were my patient, and your well-being meant, means, everything to me. Even though you are no longer under my care,” she said quietly enough, so only he could hear. Lucanis smiled in response and squeezed her hand again to confirm he had heard her, spinning her gracefully and pulling her back in, glad to see her shoulders relax a little. “If I had known he was your cousin, I would have never-”

“Dr… Lilya. It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay-” 

“Lilya,” he said more firmly to make her stop and really listen to him. “It’s okay.” 

She shut her mouth after a moment, still staring at him, stunned. “You don’t have to make me feel better about this, that’s not your job, Lucanis. It was a mistake, and I regret the effect it may have had on you. But at the very least, I am glad you have Professor Volkarin in your corner.” 

“And he’s been amazing, the only good thing that’s come out of this, really,” he said, wanting to soothe her worry. Lilya looked him in the eyes again, and a knowing smile began to form on his lips. 

“Oh, there they are again,” he said mysteriously, chuckling to himself. “So obvious, really.”  

“What? What’s here? What’s obvious?” she asked, curious as to what he was talking about.

“... Green,” he replied, tapping under his eye, which further confused her, as the woman looked around the room for a clue. 

“Oh, you mean the decoration? Yes. It’s beautiful, so verdant and bright, a lovely choice, really,” she complimented- and she meant it. Whoever had decorated the room had an eye for beauty and style. 

“Yes, you are very correct. Bright. Lovely choice,” he laughed, shaking his head with mirth, the woman clearly not understanding the theme had been inspired by her, by someone completely taken by the colours in her eyes.  

Lilya shook his hand like an impatient child, a large smile on her face as she fought for his attention. “Lucanis Dellamorte, you must tell me what is so funny.” 

Lucanis smiled at her so earnestly that she felt such a weight lift off her shoulders. The man had always been so expressive; she knew that he wasn’t trying to deceive her - he truly was well, and he didn’t hate her for what she had unwittingly done to him. “Dr de Riva, Lilya, it’s alright, you know.” 

“What is?” she asked, not following his train of thought. 

“I’m alright, with whatever happens moving forward. Whatever you choose. Whatever he chooses, I’m alright with it. I support it- support you both. I didn’t realise that you weren’t just another one of his careless flings. I thought he did it because he was being reckless again, or selfish, or he just didn’t care about the consequences of his actions… but now I know. I know that for a little while there, it was me being careless, me being selfish for not giving him a chance to explain, to understand. And I care, I don’t want that for him. Or for you. If the only reason you two aren’t dancing together right now is because of me, I don’t want that at all. I want the people I care about to be happy.” 

Lilya slowed their turn and set her fingertips more firmly on his shoulder. “Lucanis, be honest. When you first saw me tonight … were you angry?”

His brows drew together, and his mouth opened, but he shut it quickly before nodding once. “For a moment, yes. Not at you. At everything. At myself.”

“Ah.” She let out a soft breath, half relief, half remorse.

He squeezed her hand and coaxed her back into the pattern of the waltz. “It passed. Shock can resemble anger - you told me that once, remember? The second it cleared, I was glad you were here. A little confused why, certainly, but happy all the same.”

“Happy?” The word came out small, incredulous.

“Of course,” his voice steadied. “You helped me reach this point. Seeing you across the room, how could that bring anything but happiness?”

Her shoulders loosened; colour crept back into her cheeks, a small but genuine smile pulling at her mouth at his kind words. 

Lucanis felt the cold distance between them slip. Her sincerity shone through her awkwardness, and for a moment, he could almost pretend she was across from him again, just talking, like she used to, as someone he trusted. Someone who had only ever wanted to help him.

Lilya almost forgot how to stand; her patient, ex-patient, had confirmed everything she had dared to think of asking him without having to breathe a word. 

“You… I will not deny that I do harbour some feelings toward him, but he isn’t my concern. Do you understand what you’re saying? What you’re consenting to? This isn’t something you should think so lightly about, Lucanis. Take a moment. Take a day, a week- even a year, or two! I will abide by whatever you say with no ill will. My private life is not up to you to save, okay? Do not do this because of any concern for me or my well-being, or a misplaced belief that you need to agree to anything because of our past. You need to do what is comfortable and what feels right to you.” 

Lucanis spun her again and pulled her back in, a wry smile on his face. 

“You taught me to speak my mind and my truth. Professor Volkarin has expanded upon that. And if I am allowed happiness, I should be able to grant the same opportunity to those I love. And... I love him. Even if he’s a pain in my ass, he’s always been my brother.” 

“This is not about him or me, but you. Don’t say things on a whim or because you think it’s what I want to hear-” 

“Doctor… seeing him unhappy for the last six months has not brought me joy.” 

“Oh, no, of course not-” 

“It’s a little hard, knowing you think I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. I chose this because it feels right, not because I’m slipping back into my old patterns. When you question that, it almost feels like you don’t see how much I’ve grown.”

Lilya wanted to hug him, but gathered herself swiftly. “I’m making a mess of this, I’m so sorry, Lucanis-” 

“Yes, this is a mess. But trust me when I say, from the deepest parts of myself, that I am okay. I am good. That whatever happens between you two is fine by me, so please let me step aside. Do not make me a part of your decision process moving forward because you already know where I stand on this-” 

“Please, think on this some more-” 

“Oh, that’s Caterina-”

“If you have to go, we can continue this later-” 

“No need- here, take over, will you? Caterina’s calling for me. So sorry, Lilya. I’ll speak to you soon, yes? Good to see you again!” Lucanis said hurriedly, manoeuvring her hands into someone’s hold as she nodded absently and tracked his path through the crowd toward Caterina Dellamorte. The woman stood with a stoic look on her face, but her sharp gaze shifted the moment Lucanis approached, cutting past him to land squarely on Lilya and her new dance partner.

She had barely noticed whose hands Lucanis had placed hers into until the hold changed, gentler and a little uncertain. 

Of course. Illario. Of course.

Somewhere behind them, Lilya heard Teia make a noise suspiciously like a barely stifled cackle. When she glanced back, Teia raised her champagne flute and clinked it lightly against Viago’s glass, not even pretending it was accidental. Her friend’s eyes sparkled, triumphant and far too entertained at her expense, focused on them like a cat watching a pair of mice stumble into the same trap and licking her lips at the deliciousness of it all.

Teia caught her gaze and mouthed, ‘Illario?’ with an arched brow, a grin, and an exaggerated wink that left little doubt she was thrilled. Lilya spun quickly away, her cheeks warm. She knew she owed her a very long debrief once this night was over.

She felt Illario's breath on her cheek... warm and close. And what startled her most wasn’t the nearness, but how easy it was. How natural it felt to be in his arms again. That realisation struck deeper than she expected. Her fingers tightened by reflex, stiffening as if to pull away, something he noticed immediately. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, like he was bracing for her to disappear again. For a second, he didn’t move at all, holding her as lightly as he could, unsure of what to do next.

But she didn’t step away.

Their eyes met, and something held there between them, raw and irrepressible. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted his grip, his sapphire eyes connected to her pale emerald. He slid his fingers between hers, weaving them together instead of resting palm to palm. It was no longer a formal hold. It was a memory, a reach, a quiet liberty taken. Scandalous, though she didn’t stop him… She let him. And for one quiet second, her ache to stay close overwhelmed the whispers of caution in her mind.

The touch settled between them with a weight it shouldn’t have carried. It wasn’t possessive, nor was it laced with hope. It was simply... sincere and unguarded. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes in the silence. Perhaps because neither knew the words, impossible to find in the moment, or because they feared that it would change everything for them once again. They had craved this, yet both were terrified that admitting it would shatter the fragile thread holding them together. To speak, would be to question, to confront a dangerous truth and hear answers they were both too delicate to risk just yet.

The band swept over their silence with a slow three-count. He guided her into the first turn, his posture immaculate, eyes dark, mouth tight, as if the measured steps of the dance were the only ‘words’ he could trust himself to voice.

Lilya thought she heard the click of a camera and whispers of her name, but she was probably just being paranoid. It didn’t matter. The delusion of privacy was shattered all the same. It was too public here. They were not cloaked in a shadowy club this time, surrounded by the safety of anonymity and faceless bodies who did not care about them; here, they were the show.

Their first turn of the floor was stiff. 

One two three, one two three. 

He left a polite inch of air between them in case she drew back. 

One two three, one two three. 

She counted beats because numbers were safer than emotions.

One two three, one two three. 

The second turn had them soften in each other’s presence. Illario’s thumb brushed the back of her hand in a soundless question - is this okay?Lilya let her left hand settle on his shoulder, relaxing in his hold. With each step, they recalled what they had tried to bury and ignore. He moved her through a gentle pivot, and she followed without thought. The intimacy of their position was sweet and sharp, both of them teetering perilously on the edges of their good judgment once again.

The lights and discerning gazes reminded them both of the rules that still applied to them- not here, not now, not yet. Every shimmer of the chandelier felt like a spotlight; every whisper, a possible dagger in their backs. They danced on a stage where one wrong move could unravel them both.

Their final turn carried them past Viago’s guarded stare and Teia’s curious smile. Lucanis sat at the bar, resolute and unburdened, with Professor Volkarin beside him, proud of his patient and happy for his student. 

The silence between them was louder than the music, thick with their tempered longing. The final notes from the band faded, and polite applause rippled across the room, giving way to cheery but inane chatter. Illario and Lilya lingered in place, barely breathing, hands still linked. She hadn’t noticed that she had stopped counting. Just that the dance was over, and she was still standing in his arms.  Both caught between caution and hope, each waiting for the other to pull back first. Neither was ready to move away… or on. Not yet. 

“Would you… Would you like to dance with me… once more, I mean?” Illario rasped, licking his lips like a man who had just been offered his first drop of water after being asleep for far too long. 

Lilya nodded and shifted her hand more securely in his, taking a half step closer to him.

“Yes. Yes, Illario. I would like to dance with you.” 

———

She was paying attention. She was.

She had heard Teia saying it was a massive opportunity for their company to expand and take on more projects throughout the year with the assistance of Dellamorte Holdings, her words confident and sure, yet held such a warmth with her tone that she had to remind herself they were at a corporate event and not a pep rally where she was encouraging team spirit. Her friend certainly was something else… And by the look of quiet pride on Viago’s face, he knew it too. She just had to wonder how long it would take for him to get his act together and finally propose to the woman and stop all of their on-again, off-again telenovela nonsense. 

Not that she could really cast the first stone in that department with her recent history. 

She was paying attention. She was. She swore she was.

It just so happened that when Illario was given the microphone, her ears had spontaneously decided not to work, some type of acute idiopathic aphasia or auditory neuropathy befalling her. She just couldn’t understand the words he was saying, only able to focus on that smile of his or how his eyes seemed that much bluer when under the impeccable lighting of the hall. 

That was normal. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was fine-

Maker’s breath, was he smiling at her? 

A quiet but hearty chuckle beside her caught her attention. Lilya turned to her left to find Professor Volkarin observing and laughing at her, his right hand covering his mouth surreptitiously. The shorter woman stared at him aghast, absolutely scandalised that he was mocking her, even if he was doing it in the most charming way. 

“Professor!” 

His laughter deepened, and he pressed his lips together to try to hold them in, eyes creasing with genuine mirth. She bumped into him gently with her shoulder, his happiness catching, Lilya finding herself succumbing to little bouts of giggles herself. 

“Stop it, Professor!” 

He held up both hands and gathered himself, the odd chuckle still seeping out, but promptly recovered from his small loss of decorum. “My apologies, dearest Lilya, I did not mean to laugh at you.” 

“Why were you laughing at me? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, worried that she may have started to drool on herself watching Illario on stage, as if he were a popular celebrity, instead of the businessman who was responsible for their celebratory gala. 

Emmrich shook his head, his hands folding neatly at his stomach, a familiar, professorial gesture that instantly transported her back to his lectures, where he’d stand just like that, waiting for the room to quiet with nothing but his presence. Half the class had been in love with him then. She supposed some part of her still was,  if only for the way his hands, still elegant after all these years, made her feel safe, seen. The only new addition was the golden wedding band, nestled among his usual collection of ornate rings.

“Nothing,” he said, eyes tender. “Just the beauty that inspired a man to look at you as if you were his moon, his stars, and everything in between.”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing at the older gentleman’s kind words, at the implication that maybe he saw something real in what she and Illario could share. That if someone as perceptive as Emmrich could see it, hell, there really was something there, and she wasn’t just grasping at straws that her loneliness had created during her self-imposed isolation.  

“Professor, please. It was just a dance-”  

“That wasn’t just a waltz, Lilya. As you know, I am no spring chicken. I have seen longing before, but not like that. Not the kind that looks like… recognition. Like he saw something in you he’s spent his whole life trying to deserve.” 

Lilya spluttered, her eyes catching Illario’s once more as he, Lucanis, Caterina and Teia all clapped in unison once the final speech had wrapped up. He didn’t take his eyes off her, did not even blink. He just offered her a slow smile spreading across his face that made her chest hurt for reasons that she couldn’t name. 

A shift of clothing beside her drew her attention to Emmrich, leaning down to whisper in her ear, unwilling to raise his voice against the rising swell of applause. “You see that, Ms de Riva? That look, which he hasn’t stopped giving you since he first held your hands? That is a man deep in prayer. He is desperate, earnest, fervent in his invocations - one who has already made peace with the end of the world, so long as it meant you smiled at him first. And now look at you… You are smiling back at him like the fallen angel who heard him.”

Blood rushed to her face and ears at her friend’s words, her heart thumping against her chest as she realised how much she wanted it all to be true. 

Illario’s eyes were still on her.  Truly- was she really the fallen angel in this scenario, or was he? 

---

“Dellamorte.” 

“...De Riva.” 

“Is there something I can help you with?”  "Oh, look Vi, isn’t that the photographer? He wants to take our picture-” “Teia-” “He is really being quite insistent, Dear. Quick, we must be the first to get ours done.” 

Lilya watched as her older brother was manhandled in the most elegant display of dominance she had ever seen. Emmrich cleared his throat conspicuously and promptly advised he was feeling a tad parched and that he was going to get himself a drink, offering to get Lilya and Illario a drink as well, knowing the two would say no. 

“Oh, and would you look at that! Is that Cida Ciconia? Oh, I must speak with her!” he gushed, spotting one of Teia’s new headliners at the bar, leaving them as alone as they could be in the centre of a gala. 

Seeing him up close again, feeling the weight of that gaze, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to look away so she could remember how to breathe,  or never look away again. His attention felt closer than touch, more intimate than it should have been. It was almost indecent, how exposed it made her feel.

Was this what people meant by eye-fucking? Because clearly, she’d been misinformed for the last thirty years or so.

Andraste preserve her. He smelled so good. Did he always smell that good? 

“It’s good to see that there was no permanent damage,” she blurted out suddenly, Illario’s brows furrowing in confusion at the odd choice of conversation. She bit into the side of her cheek in punishment for her nerves. She pointed to her eye and cheekbone and then to his. “Your face. The phone. You somehow remained intact, Mr Dellamorte,” Lilya smiled as realisation dawned on him and he chuckled, touching the area that Zara had hit months before. 

“Back to formalities, are we? Alright, I'll play. I am well, Dr de Riva, it seems your diagnosis was right on the money.” 

“They often are. I’ve been told I’m quite good at it.” 

“Medical diagnoses?” 

“... That too.” 

...That damned smile again. She could lick that smile off his face if he’d let her... and the way he was looking at her, she knew he was contemplating the same thing about her. 

It was too easy with him. It always was. That was the problem. Their banter quickly degraded into flirty innuendos and sordid invitations, and as fun as that was, it was hardly the right stuff to base something more on. It wasn’t enough to put her through so much professional and ethical anxiety, no, she needed more than that to consider- 

“Actually, I do have something that I need your help with, if you don’t mind having a quick chat with me?” he asked, disrupting her train of thought, a knowing glint in his eye that disappeared so swiftly she almost thought she imagined it. “It won’t take more than a few minutes of your time, if you wouldn’t mind following me?” 

Illario offered his arm to her like the gentleman she knew his grandmother had painstakingly engineered him to be, but she stared at it like he’d asked her to hold onto something of his that was far more intimate— in public. She glanced around. No one was being ushered to their seats yet. People were still chatting over champagne, and so she agreed. 

“If... yes, if it’s only for a moment.” 

Looping her arm through his carefully, she let herself be led outside, doing her best not to dwell on how different it felt from holding her ex-professor’s arm. Probably because there wasn’t the whole unresolved one-night-stand sexual tension hanging between them. Illario walked them past where Emmrich had sat her down earlier that evening and into another room, rented out for his private use. Taking a few steps into the room, she could see a floating desk that spanned the length of the wall, a couch, and what looked to be a small bar in the corner. A platter of hors d’oeuvres sat on the counter, completely untouched. 

The smooth, dark wood of the desk felt cold under her fingertips as she skimmed the surface absently, just taking her time to look in the room and not think too hard about being completely alone with him. She could see his laptop open and turned on to his login screen, a picture of him and Lucanis from what he assumed was their college graduation as his background. There were sheets of numbers scattered along the desk that she didn’t care to understand, and a sketch of what she recognised as their current venue. There was a neat script (his?) scrawled all over it, making amendments and suggestions regarding the decorations. She was impressed that he even had a hand in something like that - most people in his position would have delegated such details to someone else.

Illario cleared his throat, and Lilya jumped, embarrassed she had been lost in thought. He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door, Lilya swallowing as he made his way toward her. A flurry of memories flooded her mind, their first night together, the desire that drove her to madness, their almost kiss at the Diamond and even their undeniable chemistry that evening from a harmless waltz. He did his best to hide his smirk as he read her expression. She was usually so guarded, but in that moment, he knew exactly what she was thinking about, and he had to admit it tickled him pink to know he still had that effect on her. 

Brushing past her, his knuckles grazed hers, and he caught the slightest hitch in her breath. Illario pulled out the chair from under the desk and sat down, his back curving into it as he appraised her. She half expected him to offer her a seat on his lap, but he merely waited for her to choose what she felt most comfortable doing. The couch was too far, too impersonal. Standing in front of him and looking down felt too authoritarian, and his lap was not an option. Yet. Lilya settled for hopping onto the other end of the table, her feet dangling above the floor. There was about a metre between them, even if someone had walked in on them now, it would have looked like two people having a friendly conversation and nothing more. 

“So...” she began, leaning forward awkwardly and kicking her legs to release some anxiety, “what did you want to talk about?” 

Smart. You’re so smart, Lilya. What a scintillating conversationalist you turned out to be.

Illario’s grin turned into a laugh as he shifted slightly in the seat, elbow perched on the armrest to comfortably rest his head on his fist, looking right between being charmed by her and exasperated. 

“Well, you see, Dr de Riva,” he started, his eyes twinkling, smile turning sharper, “if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be doing much talking at all. I had thought I made myself rather clear the last time we caught up. But I feel that isn’t quite what you want, am I right?” 

Lilya swallowed and nodded.  “So why don’t you tell me what it is you want, and we go from there. But in the light of being as transparent as possible, they will probably start serving the food in about ten minutes, so everyone will be quite aware if we’re much longer than that.” 

“Then, no time for bullshit, right Mr Dellamorte?” she asked, legs stilling and back straightening, awaiting his answer. A curt nod was all she received. Taking in a long, deep breath, she forced herself to relax and be brave. “Your cousin seems to have given us his blessing to... explore... explore whatever is between us-” “You don’t say.” 

“And while there are still things I need to sort out before I can, you know, be entirely above board, and before we can really... um... understand what this is, or what we could...” she felt her words lock at the base of throat when he repositioned himself to lean on his knees, resembling some sort of predator sizing her up once more. “Maker. What was I saying again?” She blinked up at him, only to realise he was no longer sitting. “Oh! Yes! If you were still at all interested and available, then maybe we could...” 

Her voice drifted off entirely as she registered just how close he’d gotten. His approach had been silent and certain, just like the wolf she once flirtatiously accused him of being. There was something about him that tugged at her like gravity, and she was just a stupid rock that got pulled into his orbit. Her pulse thudded so loudly in her ears it drowned out whatever she’d meant to say next.

“Maker... how close you’ve gotten, Mr Dellamorte,” she breathed. Not a warning, nor an invitation, but somewhere in between.

Illario had moved to stand in front of her, palms braced on the edge of the desk on either side of her thighs. Was he testing her? To see if she would freak out and run away again? She didn’t blame him if that was the case, but she certainly did not go through that awkward conversation with Lucanis only for it to amount to nothing. 

“What are the terms?” he asked, standing to his full height, sliding his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo trousers. 

She blinked. The words caught her off guard; not because they were particularly cold, but because they were so him. Illario wore his role like a suit of armour. He approached everything - even this - like a deal to be structured, understood, and secured. It wasn’t a performance. It was how he made sense of the world, how he made things stick. And she couldn’t fault him for that. She had done the same after all. Defaulted to professionalism, drew lines, and clung hopelessly to her titles and processes to protect herself. If that had been her way of surviving, then surely this was his. Framing it like a contract gave him a sense of safety, and she wouldn’t deny him that.

Without thinking, she reached out and lightly set her hand to rest against his… not a touch for touch’s sake, but a signal. I see you. I get it.

“Terms?” 

Illario stared at their touching hands and set his jaw. “What are you offering? What is required to get this done? What do you need from me?” all business, apart from the heat behind his eyes, steady and unyielding. 

“I... your patience?” Lilya said after a pause and shrugging, mind drawing a blank. “Until I get all the boring admin and ethical stuff out of the way, we can’t be anything... official. But once that’s all in the clear, we can-”

“... Explore?” he echoed her words, tilting his head with a soft smile.  

“Yes.” 

“Accepted.”

“Accepted? This isn’t like a contract, you can’t just say it like that and that’s it!” she balked. “Oh?” he raised a brow. “So what, did you want to shake on it or make a blood pact? Pinky swear?” he held up his right hand and wriggled his little finger as he waggled his eyebrows, laughing out of his nose as the tension faded from his body. Lilya hadn’t realised it, but he was probably waiting for the other shoe to drop and have her walk out on him once again - after all, she did have a habit of doing that. 

Edging closer to him, she gingerly took his face into her hands and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against his lips. Just one. A sweet, diplomatic brush of their mouths. A placeholder. A promissory note.  

It was not nearly enough.

--- “Ah,” he whispered in understanding, breath tickling her mouth. “Sealed with a kiss then. How apt.”  

He hadn’t kissed her yet. Not properly. And that alone was a kind of torture tailored just for him. 

Illario pressed his lips together so as not to chase after her, to stop himself from trying to claim her, to taste her again and indulge in her moans like she had once offered him so many months ago. His hands curled around her waist, the rich velvet warm under his fingertips. She was so close. The kind that made rational thought difficult. The feel of her breath on him, the warmth of her bare skin - maddeningly soft, her voice sweet enough to steal the very air from his lungs if she wanted. But she didn’t have to; he would have given it to her freely. 

Lilya didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

“I am nothing, if not apt,” she murmured against his lips, the words brushing like silk across him. 

Andraste, have mercy.

He ran the edge of his nose along her cheek, down the graceful line of her throat, feathering his mouth just over the junction of her neck, tips of his teeth barely grazing on the smooth skin there. Illario could make out the scent of her soap, along with delicate notes of pink pepper, a salty musk and something uniquely her that made his mouth water. His fingers traced the length of her arms, delighting in the goosebumps that rose in his wake. He wanted to taste the skin hidden by the velvet. Strip it clear from her. Bury his hands in the folds of the gown, in her, and just forget the entire damned gala.

But not yet.

Not now.

He remembered to keep his touch light, almost sadistic in his restraint - whether it was sadism or masochism, he wasn't sure. Both most likely. She could do nothing but follow suit, brushing her lips across his jaw, nipping at his earlobes, the corner of his mouth - never lingering long enough to tip the fine balance they were treading. Her fingertips danced along the line of his wrist, her thumb stroking at his knuckles in a gesture that made him shake. She was teasing him. Testing them both. And if this was their trial for patience, they were failing gloriously.

He was drowning in the silence between almost-kisses, in the warmth of skin he had no right to touch... not yet. They both knew they were pushing the limits of their agreement. Knew it was dangerous. Deliciously wicked in its egregious skirting of the rules they had just set and accepted. Exactly what they shouldn’t be doing. Which meant, of course, they did it again. Oh, how could they not? They made terrible decisions all the time. What was another one? Or five?

It was like tradition. 

Another slow pass of her mouth over his, not quite a kiss. Her lips hovered just above his, like a secret she ached to tell him. One he already knew, but still wanted to hear.

Maker, how he wanted her.

He’d take her again on this desk, with Caterina and Lucanis pounding against the door, cursing at him for bringing more shame to the Dellamorte name. He didn’t care. Not if it meant she was screaming out his name and pulling him close, and not pushing him away again. The whole world could go up in flames outside that door, and he wouldn’t bat an eye with her in his arms. 

There he was having a mental breakdown about the lengths he would go to for this woman, and the minx had the audacity to smirk at him.

“Something wrong, Mr Dellamorte?” she asked, lips millimetres from his.

Fuck. Fuck. He was going to die then and there from her teasing, then he was going to meet his Maker, a happy man. 

“You know, I could have you arrested for this,” he muttered, voice almost gravelly. “Psychological warfare.”

She hummed, mulling over his words innocently. “Is that what this is?”

“You know exactly what this is.”

To break the tension, and maybe rescue the last scrap of his self-control, he pulled back just a hair and switched tactics. He would be flippant. Light even. Pretending his hands weren’t twitching with want and his head wasn’t screeching at him to bend her over the desk and aggressively negotiate a new deal with her. He’d even seal it with another kiss. Sure, his head would be in between her legs, but surely that still constituted a kiss. 

“So. You walked into the gala on another man’s arm,” he said casually, too casually, as his fingers continued to trace lazy circles across the insides of her wrists.

Her brow arched, amused at his change in strategy. “Jealous, were we?”

“Violently,” he deadpanned. 

She laughed, the sound spreading through him like adrenaline. He really bloody loved that sound, even more when he knew it was in response to him. “You didn’t even know who I was arriving with. He could have been my uncle for all you knew.”

“I did, actually.” He tried for nonchalance and failed spectacularly, Lilya’s expression perking up at his admission. “After accidentally sleeping with one of Lucanis’ psychiatrists, I wasn’t about to do it twice.”

She blinked – and then burst into surprised laughter, covering her mouth with one hand. “You know what, Dellamorte? That is fair. Fair call.”

“But really,” he added, mouth brushing the curve of her shoulder. “I need you to know I hate that he got to touch this dress. I hate it more that he gets to touch you whenever he damn well likes.”

“Emmrich doesn’t touch me,” she said with a smirk, the mere thought of it beyond preposterous. “Not like that. Though I must say, he’s seen me cry more than once and he has exceptionally soft hands.”

“You’re not helping, Doc,” he ground out, still nuzzling into her neck.

She tilted her head, feigning concern, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “My poor, distraught, Illario.”

He tugged playfully at her fingers when she continued to fuss over him, hands wandering over his chest and playing with the fine buttons that trailed down his stomach. “Fair warning Doc, don’t say my name like that unless you’re going to kiss me again.”

She leaned in, but she didn’t kiss him. Just whispered at his lips, “We’ve five minutes left.”

He knew. He fucking knew they had five minutes left. He and his raging hard-on were well aware of the time. 

“Five minutes to behave? Wonderful.”

Lilya snorted at his honesty, hands winding around his neck, her manicured nails raking over his freshly shaved undercut, relishing in the feel. “No... Five minutes to get this out of our system. Then we go back to being normal people starting something... properly. You’ll find most people don’t tend to start their relationships after sex... there’s usually a date or two before it. Usually.”

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he ran his hands down her arms just a little firmer, and pressed one more kiss, slow and deliberate, just below her ear, smiling as he felt her shiver in his hold.

“That’s the cruellest thing you’ve ever said, Doc,” he murmured. “But I’ll take it.”

They were not chaste, not this time. Not careful. Mouths opening to each other, slow and deep and aching with their restraint, finally relinquished. His hands roamed her back, her waist, her hips- rediscovering the parts of her he had only dreamed about. Lilya’s arms locked around him, her fingers lightly scraping up the back of his neck. He felt her sigh into him, and he answered with a groan that caught in his throat.

It wasn’t rushed, but their need was palpable. This small indiscretion, the bending of the rules, was necessary, and he’d fight anyone who said otherwise. Being with her again felt like being in the sun after too long lost in the dark. The feel of her mouth on his was enough to steady him. It reminded him why he could wait, why he did wait, and why he would wait. Because it was her. And he knew she was worth every moment of it.

When she finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she smiled. Really smiled.

“We should go.”

He nodded, brushing a final kiss to her temple.

“I’m going to regret stopping,” he muttered, ruefully pressing his forehead to her shoulder.

“You’ll survive.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Illario said wryly, hushed by the return of her hand to his nape. “You’re a menace, Doc. Surviving you might actually kill me, and I gotta be honest – the prospect of dying might be easier than resisting you.” 

Lilya laughed, warm and wild and wonderful. 

“If you make it through, Mr Dellamorte, I’ll save you myself - come and check in on you, a proper house call and everything. I’ll make sure you never need another doctor again."

[unrelated-subject0]

🐦‍⬛DAVE STRIDER X READER HCS 💿🕶️ PT. 1

featuring chibi dave (full drawing below headcanons made by ME !!)

How’d you first meet?

- You two would probably meet online through John

- John would probably introduce you to dave saying smth along the lines of “I think you two would get a long well! Plus there’s nothing wrong with meeting a new friend :D”

- If it weren’t through John then youd most likely meet in school probably through a science project, or he saw you with an unattended apple juice during lunch and politely asked if he can take it which is EXACTLY HOW IM GOING TO START THIS SHORT STORY

————-

It was in the middle of the school day when you first formally met him. You’ve always seen him a the halls and heard of his name all around school, but you never had interest in meeting him. Well, you would be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it a couple times which is completely contradictory but oh well. Who are you talking about?

Dave Strider

He was the most popular, funniest, and attractive guy in your school. And you were the most normal person in the school and you didn’t even KNOW what social status you were, you just knew that you weren’t on dave’s level. You picked up the unopened carton of apple juice in your hand as you stop zoning out. And right as you did the most UNEXPECTED thing happened .

“Hey , uh you gonna drink that?”

JAW DROPPED, you looked at your drink and then him and just handed it to him and shook your head.

“Thanks dude”

And that’s how you got David fucking Elizabeth Strider to be your friend and be his “dealer” (you literally only give him the apple juice you don’t want and provide him free gum and monster energy drinks.)

Mika why would my glorious king david elizabeth strider fall for me?

- A sequence of events happened that actually made him fall in love with you

- #1 no matter how stupid his jokes are you always laugh at them. Like whenever he thinks that the joke he said was cringe as hell he always has you there to reassure him that hey maybe that wasn’t bad.

- #2 If you actually like his music and COMPLIMENT HIM??? That man is blushing and in SHOCK he starts showing you his music more and makes some songs just for you (this little shit is giggling his ass off while writing these lyrics mind you)

- #3 when you two get to know each other better you two actually help each other when your sad. Well Dave doesn’t really comfort you— he doesn’t really know how to do that so what he does is beatbox and rap his way into making you happy and hope it’ll work. Whenever you do comfort him though , he feels safe with you and you just make him feel loved.

— #4 Don’t know if you’ve noticed GAT DAMN YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL/HANDSOME. He doesn’t care about looks but when he first saw you in the halls of the school he just had to look back TWICE cuz you were just “woah”

— #5 this little shyte loves when you help him bandage his scars after fighting with his bro. You’re just so caring to him, he never thought someone could love him as much as you do.

— #6 His eyes. He’s so fucking insecure about them. Once you show him that you actually love them. HE IS GONE, JAW DROPPED, FINAL STRAW, and that’s why he fell in love with you

CRUSH HEADCANONS ARE NEXT!! B PATIENT <3

i need to eat my chicken nuggets , but i’ll update once im done eating :D sorry if this is ooc it’s been a while since ive read the webcomic

[spark-my-nature]

Gingerbread Kisses - SFK

To the lovely Ari @doveabovetheworld, Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you have a great holiday!

Love from Secret Santa 🎅❤️

⭐︎

Christmas is a time of love, even from the most unexpected places.

Sam x Reader | Words: 2.7K | Warnings: Language, implied sexual situations but nothing explicit, just fluff!

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

Really, it was Sam’s fault. 

He should know better by now not to leave you alone, and as you stood in your kitchen surrounded by the evidence of your latest attempt at mastering something in the kitchen, blaming your poor, innocent friend was the hill you chose to die on. 

It started off much better, in your defense, with a lot less raw gingerbread dough dripping down the backsplash of your counter. The recipe had seemed foolproof, having even provided a printable template. And damnit, you wanted to impress him for once. Could you have bought a kit at the store along with the dozens of types of candy for decoration that lined your table? Sure, but the thought of Sam’s face when he arrived to your apartment and realized you’d baked the houses from scratch seemed too glorious to pass up at the time. 

And now, you’d still get a memorable face out of him, just a little more teasing than you’d hoped for. Because the half-charred edges of cookie that mocked you from their baking sheet didn’t look fit to go close enough to smell, let alone eat. 

You let a long sigh deflate your shoulders, untying the apron you now felt unworthy of owning, and you had just ran a floury hand across your face when two abrupt thuds at the door startled you. 

Huffing, you crossed your apartment quickly, yanking the door open to a perfectly disheveled, christmas sweater-adorning, sweet smelling, and angel-faced Sam Kiszka. 

“You picked today of all days to arrive early?” you grouched, a tiny smile giving you away, as your best friend held up a grocery bag beside his beaming grin. 

“I did, I thought traffic would be worse,” he waved you off sweetly, kicking his shoes off on the mat. “Brought us some house kits, though, look!”

You grabbed one handle of the bag, sighing in both resentment and relief as he pawed through the confectionary. “Well thank god, cause uh…” you blushed and gestured shyly behind you. 

Sam finally looked up, and you watched with embarrassment and humor as his face shifted from his goofy smile, to shock, and slowly into a shit-eating grin. 

“What did you do?” his voice betraying the giggle he choked the words out through. 

Grunting, you shoved the bag back into his hands and turned heel, grabbing dishes and beginning to set them in the sink to soak off the mess. “Tried to make gingerbread.”

He came up behind you, setting the bag on a cleared off part of the counter, and with his trademark fluidity and confidence, he gracefully spun his back to the counter beside you and leaned on one elbow. Hitting you with a grin that made your head feel a little floaty, he watched you work for a moment. 

“I uh… admire the effort,” he nodded, smirking a little more as his eyes darted towards the dough still decorating the walls. 

You simply rolled your eyes, scoffing and blushing despite your best efforts. “Whatever, at least I tried.”

“Hey, I said I admire it,” he grinned, eyeing the streak of flour adorning your cheek that you seemed adorably oblivious to. 

When you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, you caught him with his eyes lingering a little more tenderly than usual across your face. “What…?” you quietly asked, turning off the tap. 

He blinked, then cleared his throat, straightening up and stepping closer. Softly, he muttered, “You got a little…” and with wide eyes, you watched him extend his hand to your face, gently swiping his thumb outward from the apple of your cheek. 

“Oh-“ you blushed harder, turning your face down as your reached up to swipe at your face, bashful under the warmth of his gaze. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist, smiling faintly when you met his eyes. 

“Cute,” he quietly stated, lips quirking sideways in a crooked little smile. 

“Cute?” you questioned, staring interrogatively up at him with a playful smirk, waiting for the punchline that was sure to follow. 

But it didn’t, he only nodded, using that same gentle hand to tuck the hair that had fallen from your messy bun behind your ear. You caught a hint of a blush beginning to color his cheeks, and slowly it began to sink in that he wasn’t teasing. 

“Oh,” you grinned awkwardly, heart thudding behind your ribcage, frozen in place and relishing his sweet, undivided attention. It wasn’t unlike him, but he wasn’t exactly known for serious moments like this, and it made you nervous as hell when they happened. Mostly because they made you start wondering if maybe he felt the same about you as you’d always felt about him. But those moments had always broken like a baseball through a pane of glass, and he’d go back to his goofy, ‘just friends’ Sammy self, and you’d kick yourself for reading too much into it again. 

His stare this time was unwavering though, and he coupled it with a tiny, nervous blip of a laugh, chewing on his lip. “Mhm,” he simply offered, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was almost… shy. 

The lightheadedness was catching up with you, and in a moment of overwhelmed cowardice, you broke eye contact, gesturing to the bag he brought with him. “So, uh, what else did you get?”

Sam swallowed, brows furrowing as he threw a hand through his hair, turning to the groceries. “Uh- right, I got, um…” he opened it, pulling out various candies and the two gingerbread kits. You peered over the bag, up on your tippytoes.

“Standard stuff,” he explained dryly, smirking, “you got your candy canes, your chocolate swirls, your peppermints…”

You nodded, smiling up at him as he rattled off at least another ten kinds of candies, and when he had emptied the bag, you led him into the living room where you already had the TV set up in front of the table. 

“Oh shit- lemme grab something, forgot it in the car,” Sam mumbled distractedly, quickly making his way out the door and back before you could blink. With a beaming grin, he held out a takeout tray with two paper cups, eagerly pronouncing, “Hot chocolates!”

Biting your lip to control the smile stretching across your face, you took yours from him as you both sat down on the couch. 

Quietly, as you popped open the tab on the lid, you remarked, “you really thought of everything, huh?”

Sam sipped his drink, shrugging one shoulder as he eyed you. Swallowing with a loud smacking sigh, he smiled playfully, “Pretty much.”

Wrinkling your nose, you took a drink and set down your cup. “You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

Sammy waved a dismissive hand, looking at his lap, and your smile softened. “I mean it, I… you make me so happy, all the time. It’s your superpower.”

Sam giggled at that, looking up and meeting your gaze, and your eyes locked for several long moments before he gently answered. 

“It’s my favourite thing to do.”

Feeling a flush warming up your cheeks, you grinned crookedly, “what is?” 

With a blush colouring his cheeks but not a trace of embarrassment, Sam simply murmured, “making you happy.”

Quietly, you searched his face in your flustered confusion, and his smile slowly relaxed into a gentle expression. 

“Sammy…” you started, heart rate spiking as your thoughts raced around your mind. Not wanting to misread his gentle searching eyes, not daring to read into his sweet words. 

Then he cleared his throat softly, and your eyes shot down when you felt him take your hands in his, resting on your lap. As he toyed with your fingers, he started, “I think there’s something I need to say to you. And you know… Christmas and all, I just figure, it’s a good time… right?”

Your brows drew together, watching this normally larger than life man take on such a  serious persona. “Okay,” you cocked your head.

Sam’s lips quirked up in a lopsided grin, and he huffed out a soft shy laugh. “So… um… well I was walking Rose last week, through the public gardens, yknow? That spot I took you to in the fall?” 

When you nodded, he continued, “Right, well I passed that hideous statue of the lil elf dude, and I remembered how hard we laughed at him that time, but the thing is… it wasn’t even that funny. I stared at it for a solid ten minutes, probably really weirded out some families,” he chuckled, his fingers tensing and relaxing in between yours as he spoke, absently fidgeting the way you secretly always thought was adorable. 

“Okay…?” You prompted, giggling softly. 

“I… realized…” Sam shifted, clearing his throat again, his fingers clinging to yours tight for a moment, “…that it wasn’t the statue that made me laugh like that, it was just you.”

You snorted, and he seemed to realize what his words meant, blushing and laughing at himself as he quickly shook his head. “No no no, fuck, that came out so wrong, I-“ 

You interrupted him with a very unattractive honk of a laugh, making him giggle and shake his head again. Taking a breath, he rode the wave of joy and finished his explanation. 

“I realized then that I wanted you there, with me. I meant that the statue wasn’t nearly as funny or interesting or anything, without you beside me. And neither is anything else. You make everything in my life so much brighter, and more enjoyable, and warm and safe and… well, I kinda started to think about why I felt that way about you, so I may have… talked to Danny about it, and he-“ Sam huffed an exasperated laugh at the memory, staring firmly at your hands. 

“He said, ‘for fucks sake Sam. We were waiting for you to realize but clearly you’re more of a dumbass then we thought.”

You smirked shyly, feeling your stomach flip in anticipation. “Sounds like Danny.”

Smiling wide, Sam nodded his agreement, “Yeah, and he’s right. I am a dumbass. Cause my best friend had to tell me for me to realize that I’m in love with you.”

Your pulse raced so fast you weren’t certain that it just stopped beating entirely. With the last scraps of clarity in your swirling mind, you squeaked, “You what?”

After a second’s hesitation, he lifted his gaze to you through his lashes, and licked his lips nervously, scanning your face. 

You’d never seen him look so small. And you’d never felt your entire body buzz with electricity like it was. Your face slowly began to catch up with the butterflies attacking your stomach, and as your wondrous smile spread across your face, Sam relaxed infinitesimally before you. 

“You love me?” You confirmed with a high pitched, nervous giggle. 

He offered a tentative smile, eyes darting between yours, vulnerable and hopeful. “I love you so much.” 

Staring at him for another second, you giggled, lifting a hand to run through your hair, flustered and giddy. Then you perked up suddenly, realizing how the boy in front of you sat at the edge of his seat for your answer. 

“Oh! I love you too,” you rushed out, grabbing his hand again, smiling wide as Sam laughed, relief clouding his eyes as the tension in his body deflated. 

“You love me? Really? You aren’t just saying that cause I did?” He interrogated, playing up the humor in his tone when the question itself was serious.  He’d held out his heart to you, praying you wouldn’t break it.

“No, I do, I love you Sam,” you softly repeated, “I can’t believe you love me, I’m so…”

“-relieved?” he supplied gently, the both of you giggling as you nodded, delirious with your joy. 

Your laughter stilled, and you both held each other’s gaze, electricity sparking to life all around you. 

Sam’s hand left yours, bringing it up to slide gently over your cheek, making your heart flutter even harder in your chest. His eyes nervously dipped downwards, returning to your eyes, then glancing at your lips again before slipping his fingers sweetly into your hair. 

His lips parted, hesitating a second before he shyly confessed, “…I’m dying to kiss you.”

Your face lit up in a wild grin, and you couldn’t stop the positively giddy sounding tease before it was past your lips. “Oh really?”

His mouth twisted in a crooked smirk, meeting your gaze again rather ironically in response. 

“Do it,” you whispered, leaning forward a little in invitation. 

Your heart melted, watching Sam’s face relax into a droopy, lovesick smile of relief, and his face drew into yours before your eyes both fluttered closed. 

You took a short, shaky breath, and then felt his lips press to yours, so gently and sweetly. He held it for a few seconds, then his fingers slipped further behind your head, drawing you closer as his lips parted for a deeper, more passionate kiss. 

Your heart pounded in your ears, so loud you almost missed the whisper quiet groan from his throat. Pouring your overwhelming emotions into the kiss, you surrendered to the feeling with a hum of your own, finally daring to bring a hand up to caress his jaw. 

God, you’d never been kissed like this, like he’d rather suffocate than be separated from your mouth. His head tilted more, aligning his face even more perfectly to slip his tongue teasingly against your lip, a question of sorts. Still rather flustered, nervous in the exciting way a schoolgirl might feel kissing her crush in his car, you dared a brush of your tongue against his mouth, moaning quietly when he met yours with his almost accidentally. 

Sam shivered, parting from the kiss reluctantly, and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw his still closed, his brows furrowed, tipped up in the middle giving away his neediness, and his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and shiny. 

He blinked a few times, eyes focusing on your face, and he huffed a soft, goofy and pleased-with-himself laugh, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone. “Hi,” he rasped. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, blushing pink and giggling. 

“I’ve dreamt about that, y’know,” he informed you, smile turning mischievous. “Not nearly as good as the real thing.”

“I dream about you too,” you slipped, blushing harder when you realized what you said, making Sam coo fondly and draw closer again. 

“Cute,” he subconsciously repeated his earlier word of choice. 

“You’re cute,” you argued, biting your lip as his face teased nearer to yours again. 

“You think so?” he pried flirtatiously, voice dropping to that low rasp that drove you insane. 

Nodding, you swallowed, flustered all over again. Heat prickled at your skin, watching his pupils dilate, consuming those sweet, honey-brown irises. His long lashes drooped, his glances across your face accompanying his words, “I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, a firm and warm kiss, fulfilling and whole, deliciously exciting and wanting. 

Pulling him by the neck, you leaned back slowly, keeping him leaning on top of you until you sank into the throw pillows. Propping himself up above you, Sam murmured against your lips, “Whatcha doin?” with a shit-eating smirk, returning his mouth to yours before you could give him an answer. 

And it was Sam’s fault, really, that the gingerbread houses went ignored for the rest of the evening. 

Sam’s fault that you didn’t even drink the hot chocolates, only discovering their ice cold presence on your coffee table the next morning, wearing Sam’s shirt, hair a mess and a permanent smile etched into your cheeks. 

And it was all on Sam that you had the best damn Christmas you could’ve ever dreamed of. 

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

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[spockandawe]

Hello hello! I'm sleepy and bored at work, but still have two meetings to go, and THEN I stumbled across an ask game a themed reading list! I got linked to it here by a friend, and I've been reading a surprising amount this year compared to what I usually manage, so let's goooo

Author you've read the most books from:

Oh man. This has to be either Terry Pratchett or Mercedes Lackey, even though I haven't gone through the WHOLE catalog for either one. Let's look this up? Wow, more of a difference than i was expecting: Terry Pratchett, 39. Mercedes Lackey, 63.

Best Sequel Ever:

Oh, that's so hard! Arguably Thud! by Terry Pratchett counts, but looking that late in a long series feels like cheating. I'm going to say either Ancillary Sword (imperial radch #2) by Anne Leckie, or The Siren Depths (books of the raksura #3), by Martha Wells. The earlier books hooked me, but then these ones just put me in the salad spinner and went to town.

Currently Reading (12/'24):

Too many 🥲 I won't even get into mangas and manhwas here, lmao.

Evil As Humans by Nian Zhong

I Became A God In A Horror Game by Pot Fish Chili

SSS-Class Suicide Hunter by Shin Noah

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint by Sing Shong

The Guild Member Next Door by Honeytrap (this hasn't snagged me yet, but the manhwa is extremely charming, i mayyy just stick to that)

Star Instructor, Master Baek (loved the manhwa, NEED full prose context, haha)

Drink of Choice While Reading:

I read a lot on walks, so none, really! If I'm reading in bed i might make tea or grab something cold and bubbly, but i tend to get too immersed to remember my beverages.

E-reader or Physical Book:

E-reader. I was that weird kid who always carried around like five books, and this is so much better. It's faster, it's more convenient, I can word search, it's easier to share snippets with friends, it suits all my needs beautifully. The caveat. Is that I dont trust the permanence of digital media at ALL, especially if drm is involved, so i really try to own physical copies of everything i LOVE.

Fictional Character You Probably Would Have Dated in High School:

Oh god, dating, the worst activity. Ummm. Gosh. See. My trouble here is that I have chronically terrible instincts for who is actually good romantic interest material in real life, and that problem was SO MUCH WORSE as a teenager. Let's say Sha Hualing. Is this ending well for me? Nope!

Glad You Gave This Book a Chance:

'C Language Cultivation' by Yi Shi Si Zhou! I'm an engineer, but god, i am not a programmer. But I'm so glad I went into this book anyways! I was able to MOSTLY get pulled along for the ride when characters talked programming, and I think its SUCH an interesting way to conceptualize cultivation in a modern setting. And then on top of that, the plot went crunch and did some really interesting things! I would have balked at this one normally, but it really worked for me.

Hidden Gem Book:

'Evil As Humans' by Nian Zhong. I really need to rave about this one more, because it's one of the best cnovels I've ever read, and I'm so sad it took me this long to catch word of it. I'm not done yet, because i got overwhelmed by Emotions and was afraid of running out of book so I stopped reading, like a dumbass. It's so so so so good. It's got everything. It's got fascinating worldbuilding, amazing characters, glorious imagery, BEEFY plot, and one of my favorite relationships I've ever read. I would recommend this book whether or not someone has read a cnovel in their life before. And it's so sad that hardly anyone talks about it!

Important Moment in Your Reading Life:

Ooh, I think.... that moment in the peak pandemic days when I was finally intrigued enough to check out MDZS. First, I devoured it and it was SO good. Second, I kept reading cnovels. Third, my passion for cnovels got me into bookbinding. This really made a notable impression on the course of my life since then, which I frankly wasn't expecting at this age!

Just Finished:

Hmmm. I'm not FINISHED, but I'm caught up to the current translation of 'The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low' by Baek Sam. The translator said they would hopefully be catching at the end of this month, and god, I really hope so, this book lodged inside my ribcage.

Longest Book You've Read:

'The Husky and his White Cat Shizun' by Meatbun. It's 1.2 million words. If I ever finish ORV that will dethrone it, but for the love of god, montressor

Major Book Hangover:

Haha, any book I like tends to leave me hung over! I notice especially for the cnovels because they're so long and I get my emotions spun up so high, but it's definitely a regular feature. The only time this doesn't happen is if it's a series like Murderbot when I can immediately press on to the next book, until the inevitable SERIES hangover.

Number of bookcases:

Oh, unfair, the sizes vary wildly. In my house, let me see. There's a BIG built-in bookcase in the basement that has most of my prose fiction and craft books. Basement bedroom has a freestanding bookshelf that might be for art instructional books and art supplies, but im still rearranging.

Upstairs, i have a wide/short bookshelf that's also a tv stand, but it's split between western comics and board games. Kitchen has a teeny wall-mounted set of shelves with my cookbooks. Dining room has a buffet where my shortlisted craft books are stored (so I don't have to get them from the basement).

And upstairs, my pink bedroom has two. There's a small built-in that's for my manga collection and small zines. And there's a corner bookshelf that's for sheet music and coffee table books. I think that's everything!

Preferred Place to Read:

On long walks 🥺 It's so nice. I like it so much. The weather is hostile to my fingeys at this time of year, I need to drag out my various fingerless gloves and scatter them in convenient places so i remember yo grab them. Other than that, curled up in bed, either lying down or sitting against a back pillow.

Quote That Inspires You:

Oh gosh. I dont remember quotes very well. And 'inspire' might be the wrong word. But a number of Terry Pratchett ones stick with me, he really just was an incredibly memorable writer

It was sad music. But it waved its sadness like a battle flag. It said the universe had done all it could, but you were still alive.

-Terry Pratchett, 'Soul Music'

Reading Regret:

I don't regret reading books! Even the ones I hate. If I'm not getting something out of the experience, I'm hideously adhd to begin with, I will probably forget to finish rather than even consciously decide to quit. If I have a regret, maybe... I have a lot of other hobbies and obligations, and there are SO many books I wish I'd already read. I regret not prioritizing reading more in my life, even though I'm sure that in this AU, I'd have brand new regrets instead 😂

Series You Started and Need to Finish:

Mmmmm... Imperial Radch. I read the first trilogy l, the short stories, and Provenance. I just haven't been able to find the right headspace to start Translation State. I'm sure I'll love it! But I haven't done it yet.

Three of Your All-Time Favorite Books:

Agonizing!

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Hogfather by Terry Pratchett

Unapologetic Fan for:

The Books of the Raksura, by Martha Wells!! I love murderbot, but i LOOOOVE the raksura books, they deserve more appreciation

Very Excited for This Release:

Alecto the Ninth please im begging on hands and knees 🤣

Worst Bookish Habit:

Look, I am. Very adhd. I will accept your rec with great excitement and make a reminder to myself to go check out this book asap. Then i will also forage for my own new books, because it's good enrichment in my enclosure. Let's not ask what my follow-through numbers are like. Shh, don't worry about it.

X Marks The Spot: Start at the top left of your shelf and pick the 27th book:

Oh, this is gonna drive me nuts. I'm at work, but i HAVE a picture. The resolution, however--

It's the slim hot pink and black paperback. It's an Agatha Christie, and I'm almost positive it's 'The Mysterious Affair At Styles.' But I can't find this edition online to confirm. The book to its left is 'Any Way The Wind Blows' by Rainbow Rowell, the one left of that is 'Alta' by Mercedes Lackey, the one to its right is the complete Sherlock Holmes, and the one right of that is 'Sleeping Beauty' by Mercedes Lackey, so I know my books pretty well! But that ONE. Is driving me nuts 😂

Your Latest Book Purchase:

'Tiger Tiger' by Petra Erika Nordlund! It's sitting on the shelf next to my front door, and I'm POSITIVE I'll enjoy it, but the stars haven't been aligned for me to start it yet, expecially because i do read so much on my phone but i think graphic novels are a Must for physical purchases. If i have digital purchase of comics, they're probably redundant with my physical copies. They're just as ephemeral as prose ebooks, but so much larger to store 😂

ZZZ-snatcher book (last book that kept you up WAY late):

Ooh, that's probably 'I Became A God In A Horror Game' by Pot Fish Chili. This is an interesting one, because between story arcs I lose momentum and take a longgggg pause. But then DURING story arcs, I can't put the silly thing down. It's gripping as HELL.

[wheezyseeker99]

Mine: Part 1

Warnings: pining, swearing, teasing, p in v, handjob

((AN: one of these days I’ll go back through the warnings and make them cohesive but today is not that day))

18+, MDNI

Summary: In honor of the flyers first preseason win, I sat down and finished this piece. This one is going to be the best friend’s brother trope because my bestie is a ginger and she always says he looks like her brother. Alternate universe obvs and I used y/n this time.

Summers in southern California with my best friend, Courtney, are always perfect. I have no cares in the world when I’m with her. I’ve already gotten a tan and she’s burnt to a crisp, which is usual for her. Her ginger hair and pale skin make it impossible for her to enjoy the sun. I’ve read through at least 3 books this week while her mom drove us around on the boat. It’s glorious.

Well, it was until her brother decided to come home.

Cam made his presence known immediately when he got to town. It’s rare that he’s around since he’s a hockey star for an nhl team on the east coast. I knew him before all of that. I knew the long hair boy playing roller hockey in the backyard. The one that I had a major crush on.

It was easy to have a crush on Cam. He’s always been laid back and nice to me. It was hard not to fall for him. I never told my best friend that though, and I don’t know how she’d react to that confession.

The feelings for Cam are still there, which is a problem. A big, big problem. I didn’t notice it until we came in after a day on the ocean. He was laid out on the couch, waiting for us to get home.

It shouldn’t have shocked me that Cam is a man now. When I walked through the door that day, I think I went into shock. His body has filled out since the last time I had seen him. I tried not to stare at how thick his thighs looked or how his biceps flexed. Or even how his shoulders looked when his tshirt stretches over them.

I definitely doubt he would ever look at me the way I look at him. I think it’s that fact that’s driving me up the wall. It’s been two days of being around him so far, and it’s extremely hard not to throw myself onto him. I have never felt this feral in my entire lifetime.

Today I tried to distract myself by helping Courtney and her mom decorate for the ‘Annual York 4th of July Celebration’ which basically consisted of me cleaning the main rooms in the house and making side dishes in the kitchen.

I’m standing over the stove stirring a pot of macaroni for the mac and cheese when Cam walks through the back door wearing nothing but shorts hanging low on his hips and running shoes. My eyes immediately went to his bare chest that’s drenched in sweat. His skin looks so nice when it’s flushed. Little freckles litter his skin along with the thick ginger chest hair. I snap my eyes away before he could notice I was eyeing him.

“Where’s everybody at? I come back from my run and all of the cars are gone.”

“Oh, your dad is going to pick up your grandparents, and Courtney and your mom are at the store. It’s just me here,” I tell him, trying to keep a straight face and keep my eyes away from him.

Cam leans onto the counter next to me. I feel the heat radiating off of him. I know his eyes are piercing into me.

“So we’re alone?”

I nod and keep my eyes on the task in front of me. Maybe if I stay quiet, he’ll go do something else. I stir the macaroni one last time and move over to the sink to drain the water.

“Finally,” he sighs. “I’ve wanted to get you alone since I got here.”

I whip my head to look at him and almost drop the pot. My jaw nearly drops to the floor.

“Huh?”

“We’ve never been alone before y/n, haven’t you noticed?”

I gulp. Of course I’ve noticed but I’d never tell him that. We always have Courtney around. I make sure of it for this very reason. My hands feel sweaty and I’m on the verge of stuttering. I finish draining the pot and bring the drainer to the empty baking dish.

“Nope Cam. I’ve never noticed.”

“Can I help you with this?”

He steps closer to me and I nearly flinch when he takes the drainer from my hands. I wipe the sweat from my hands on my apron and step toward the fridge.

“Sure, go ahead. I need to start chopping the hamburger toppings. The cheese should be ready to stir in if you can do that and then put it in the oven to keep it warm.”

Cam listens my instructions, and comes up next to me while I’m slicing tomatoes. He once again leans on the counter next to me. This time, a lot closer than before. I keep my head down, concentrating on how I need to be slicing the tomatoes.

“Any reason why you can’t look me in the eye?”

“I’m trying not to cut my fingers off,” I say sarcastically.

I stop for a second and look him in the eyes just to prove him wrong, but the moment I do, I get sucked into his blue irises. I don’t know how long I stared into his eyes, but it took everything in me to stop. I cleared my throat and looked back at the tomatoes before slicing more.

“Are you ever going to stop fighting it, y/n?”

“Fighting what?” I ask and attempt to hold my breath. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“You’ve had a crush on me for years, probably just as long as I’ve had one on you, and you never acted on it.”

I sit down the knife and turn to him. I feel overwhelmed instantly at his words. He had a crush on me? And he knew I had one on him? If he knows, does Courtney know? My mind races with all of the thoughts that I barely remember to respond.

“How do you know that?”

“I can tell when your eyes are on me, y/n. You’ve done it for years.”

“I was that obvious,” I mutter under my breath.

Cam hums in response. He takes my hand into his, “is this okay?”

I nod and he gets impossibly closer, caging me in against the counter. He’s always been taller than me, but I never really knew that he would tower over me like this. My eyes trail over his face. Should I make a move? My mind races back to all the times I imagined this moment as I eye his lips. His face gets closer to mine and his nose brushes mine. His breath is hot against my lips while his eyes hypnotize me.

“You look like you want me to kiss you,” he whispers.

“I do,” I whisper back.

My heartbeat is out of control at this point, beating like it’s going to hammer out of my chest. I don’t think my brain is working at full capacity anymore. A smile spreads on his face and he cups my cheek in his large palm. His mouth hovers over mine. My eyes close when it comes in contact with mine.

Cam’s mouth is like heaven. It’s warm and firm, and I can feel the little scar against my lips.

My hands have a mind of their own. They make their way to his hair, sliding into the sweaty strands. Our tongues tangle, and he groans while his hands make their way to untie the apron from my waist. It falls to the floor and he grips my waist in one hand while his other glides up my body to cup my breast over my tank top. I should’ve worn a bra today but I didn’t, and he can clearly feel that when he touches me. His thumb brushes over the fabric and I moan into his mouth. His hips press into mine when I do. I can feel his erection growing in his shorts, and I know as a fact that this isn’t stopping here. We breathe heavily when he pulls his mouth from mine.

“How about this,” he breathes against my lips, “I turn off the oven and put this shit in the fridge while you go upstairs and wait for me.”

I nearly choke at his words, but I just nod at him mindlessly.

“Yes please.”

He lets me free and smacks my ass when I start to walk away. I turn back to look at him and he has the goofiest grin on his face. God, if I knew he had a crush on me then we could’ve done this sooner.

.

By the time I’m upstairs, I’m stumbling into the guest room. I looked around and started to panic. My room is a mess. I picked up my clothes off the floor and shoved them into the basket near the closet before I heard the door open. I glance over my shoulder as Cam shut the door and locked it. His eyes dragged down my still clothed body. I swear I could feel fire burning inside me.

“Where were we?”

He stalked towards me, but I put my hand up between us and it landed on his bare, hard chest.

“Wait. What’s going to happen? What about Courtney?”

“I want it all with you. We can settle the logistics and fight with my sister about it later,” he took my hand and slid his fingers through mine.

“Does that mean you’re going to ask me the question?”

“I was going to ask you out on a date first y/n,” he paused, “I was going to earn this, but I want you to be mine. What do you say?”

“I want you so yes Cam. You earned it,” I breathed. “Anything, just let me jump your bones really quick before everyone gets home.”

Cam giggled before I lost my composure completely. I slammed my lips onto his and walked him backwards to the bed. His mouth removed from mine and kissed down my neck to my chest, slowly sliding the straps of my tank top off my shoulders.

“You can jump my bones as long as I can taste you,” he smirked. “No bra?”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“Should think about it. My eyes went to these as soon as I walked in,” he says while moving the fabric down to my middle.

“Funny you mention that. My eyes went to your chest too,” I laugh softly.

“I knew that’s why you couldn’t look me in the eye,” he nips at my nipple and pulls back to look at me. “You need to be honest baby.”

“I will just-“ I grab his hands and bring them to my waistband. “Just take my clothes off.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Cam dragged down my yoga pants with my tank top and underwear, leaving me bare. I shivered slightly from the cool air coming from the vents and my nipples harden at the change in temperature. Cam tugs down his shorts. He tossed them to be with my clothes, and my hands went to his length as he claims my mouth again. He took my hand away and binded both of my wrists in his hand.

“Careful with that hand baby,” he grunted. “It feels too good and this could end too soon if you try that.”

I’m on my back before I know it. It almost knocked the breath out of me, how fast he could man handle me. His mouth covered my nipple again, and his free hand thumbed over the other one.

I hear a strangled moan escape his mouth and he sets my wrists free. My hands immediately went to his hair. Cam grabbed onto my legs and pulled them open so he can settle between them, his mouth still assaulting my breasts. I feel the anticipation deep in my core. It feels like it’s about to boil over and he’s barely touching me. I clench around nothing, waiting for him to make the move. His length ruts against me, grinding slow and steady. I sigh, tugging at his hair. I grip the sweaty strands for dear life when he enters me. My entire body hums in excitement.

“Oh my god y/n,” he moans.

“Move please.”

“So polite,” Cam laughs and nips at my neck. “Being polite will get you what you want baby.”

His hips move steadily but I can’t stop my hips from bucking into his. All of it wasn’t enough. His touch, his mouth, the way his body pressed into me. I need it all and more. His teeth scraped the skin of my neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans and drives himself deeper into me. “We fit perfectly.”

“We do.”

I never knew if or how someone could complete another person like how Cam is completing me. I didn’t know the feeling of being whole until now. When his hooded eyes meet mine, he understands it too. The blue irises trailed down my body, groaning when he looks at where we’re connected. I tugged his mouth back to mine, moaning against him. I didn’t even notice when his thumb ran over my clit. I hold him to me, taking in every movement he gives. Everything felt too good.

“So perfect. I’ve never felt so good in my entire life baby,” he rasped between breaths.

It doesn’t take long for me to cum. I cry out as he held me down and pistoned into me, his hips snapping. I barely have time to come down from my high when an idea crept its way through my mind.

“Wait. Don’t cum inside me yet.”

Cam’s eyebrows knit together and he stares at me in shock. I shocked myself too, to be honest. He slows his thrusts but doesn’t stop.

“I want to try something please,” I beg.

Cam lets out a whine. He can’t stop thrusting and I clench around him. The pressure is building again. I smooth a hand over his cheek to distract him. He nuzzles his head into it, waiting for me to instruct him.

“Pull out and lay down. Trust me.”

He obeys, lying down next to me. His sweaty hair is curling at the ends, reminding me of how his hair looked when we were kids. He still has that boyish charm, but as my eyes trail down his body, I can’t help but think about all of the fantasies I’ve had about him.

Now Cam’s body is stretched almost the full length of the bed next to me. Although his body is full of hard planes, his skin is soft. His chest heaved as I got comfortable on my side. He looks pretty like this. I lift a hand to his mouth.

“Spit,” I command him.

His eyes connected with mine when he lets the spit trail from his mouth to my palm. My hand reaches for his length, stroking it slowly as I smash my mouth onto his. I pump him slowly and build speed. Cam’s mouth attacks mine fiercely, the moaning from his lips never ceasing. His hand comes between my legs and he shoves two fingers inside me, pumping in and out. I bite down into his lip at the sudden impact.

I pull my mouth back and speed up my hand as fast as I can go. Cam’s eyes close and his hand is clenched between my thighs. His hips jolt up into my hand, telling me that he’s getting closer.

“You’re going to paint your chest and I’m going to lick it off. Do it for me Cam, you’re being so good.”

His hips jar slightly, moving in clumsy thrusts into my hand until he cums. Streaks of white paint his stomach and chest. It’s a beautiful sight. I lean down and lick his hot skin, swallowing as I go. Once I’m finished, I settle back onto my side and press a kiss to his cheek. He hasn’t said a word yet.

“You’re amazing Cam.”

“Fuck y/n,” he groaned. “Never stop praising me.”

“I should stop. Your ego is going to be the size of Texas.”

Cam giggles and presses a kiss to my lips. My hand mindlessly strokes through his hair. I pulled back and laid my forehead against his. We know we can’t stay here forever. I don’t know how long it’s been when he takes the first move to get up.

“I’m going to shower really quick baby. Stay naked and don’t leave this bed until I get back,” he says playfully as pulls on his shorts and walks to the door.

“I’ll be here as naked as you left me. I’m not leaving this bed until you get back.”

“Good girl.”

He closes the door behind him. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting.

Part 2 will come eventually…

[ph0enix-12]

Ichorverse - Chapter 4

~ A pure soul’s loyalty ~

And here ends the prologue! We can finally start with the real story my darling, I can’t wait for the next chapters ^^. Be sure to read the other chapters as well and look out for the content warnings please

CW: (implied) slavery, (implied) harassment, sex scene (consensual and lightly described)

Words: 2920

<- Chapter 3 . Chapter 5 ->

He remembers that night clearly, like it was yesterday. Surely the stink of cigars, alcohol and sweat still sticks to his bones to this day.

He sometimes still felt the phantom touches of the nobles as they groped his thighs and arms, feeling his few muscles with greediness, like it was their right to do so, to feel him up as they wished, humoring themselves with something that wasn’t theirs to touch.

He tried to hide in the shadows of the ballroom, but those bastards always managed to find him, pulling on the piercings on his chest to get him to move where they wanted, laughing as he groaned in pain at the pull they inflicted on his chest. They pulled on him from couch to sofa, from chair to table like he was a pack animal. Ordering him to serve more and more drinks as they groped his back and chest, not even bothering to look at his face. Checking out his hips, who were left out of the thin pants he was forced to wear, even if the palace was freezing that night.

Well into the party, he managed to sneak away and hide in one of the dark corners of the room…and there he was.

Cross had not noticed the presence of someone else before stepping between The columns that lined the ballroom, a man wearing an intricate and ornate outfit along with jewelry that surely cost more than Cross himself.

He leaned against the wall, staring at the people on the dance floor as he sipped on what looked like some sort of golden liquid. He must have been the most glorious man Cross had ever seen, he shined, and yet he blended perfectly in the shadows.

Cross shuddered when the man turned his head to him. His eye glowed like bioluminescent algae found in the bottoms of the sea, and the very distinct golden scar along the side of his face was hard to overlook, it made his face look like a cracked pot put back together with some sort of golden glue.

“Sorry- didn’t know anyone else was here-” Cross backed away, planning on booking it to another hiding place. “Its alright.” The man turned the drink in his hand, making the fluid dance around the rim, “you can stay, you aren't bothering anyone”

There went his hiding plans. Cross awkwardly shuffled closer, leaning against the wall as well. “so…what are you hiding from?” He tried his hand at small talk, even if it was a weak attempt.

The man took a sip of his drink, “my family. They are being as overbearing as always.’ he turned his head, “what about you?”

Cross had to take a second before answering, too fixated on studying the man in front of him. It looked like he had stars for freckles. “Well uh- can i call nobles assholes or are you a noble as well?” He tried to joke, succeeding in making the guy chuckle, “you can call them assholes, I agree with you”

The slave chuckled too. “Then, I am hiding from asshole nobles.” The guy tilted his head, seeming interested now, “can I ask your name?”

“It's Cross,” he smiled. “Nice to meet you then, Cross. I am Nightmare.”

Ah Nightmare..like the god- oh shit like the god. Cross chuckled nervously, surprised by the sudden realization.

The two smiled awkwardly at each other before falling into silence, looking back at the party and enjoying the smooth music that played. “I can get us some good booze if we want, this party's boring anyway without alcohol” Nightmare said, out of the blue, turning his head to Cross.

“What do you say?”

The slave hesitated, not sure if the request had a double meaning or anything of the sort- what If it was some twisted trick to get him in trouble? But looking into the god's eye…he didn't see anything. Not a hidden malicious intent in sight, just an honest request.

Cross smiled a little, letting some of his nervousness fall, when else was he going to get the opportunity to live a little and feel a smidge of the freedom he used to have?

“I'll cover you” he winked, making Nightmare giggle under his breath.

The two slipped away from the ballroom, sneaking off to the kitchen to grab the booze that was stored in one of the cabinets, Nightmare had to take off his heels and hold them in his hands as the two snuck around the palace, quickly grabbing some extra pillows and blankets before climbing up the stairs of the tower, they didn't stop chuckling to themselves the entire time, save for when they needed to sneak behind a guard.

Cross looked around, astonished, in awe of the beautiful room that they reached at top of the stairs. It was a gorgeous chamber decorated with the most lavish furniture Cross had ever seen. The bed was closed by the curtains around the canopy and the glass door to the outside was shut off with silky curtains.

Nightmare threw the blankets and the pillows down on the carpet, beside a fireplace that looked to be never once lit before.

Cross walked to him, still looking around with interest. “Get comfortable, the couch is divine” they smiled at each other as they settled and popped the corc of the first bottle of rum they had taken, pouring two glasses hefty and offering them to one another.

“To us.” Nightmare smiled, “to us” Cross smiled back, holding up his glass toward the star. They drank and laughed, enjoying the entire rest of the night together.

After a long night of talking and laughing, they retreated to bed, still giggling under the blankets as they enjoyed the company.

It came natural to them to embrace each other, softly holding the other tight, like he was going to disappear. They didn’t talk anymore for a while, but they didn’t need to, the two simply embraced one another, caressing each other’s magical skin to feel close.

Soft touches soon turned into heated groping. They became breathless, hungry to feel the other even more. When they finally kissed, it was like a thousand nebulas exploded between them. Cross closed his eyes as they pushed against each other, his chains, their status, nothing mattered anymore.

They were starved for one another like two lovers reuniting after years apart.

The star was as soft as he looked, Cross’s hands easily slipped underneath ornate clothing, feeling the pristine flesh beneath his fingers as he caressed the stars and he just as easily wrapped his legs around the mortal, plush and soft thighs enveloped him and they gasped for air between heated kisses filled with passion.

It was the most serene night of Cross’s life. As they gasped softly the entire world around them stopped, there was nothing but that beautiful man beneath him that gently smiled at him with a sweetness the mortal had forgotten. Cross longed to treat him right, like the most precious jewel to ever exist in the world, kissing every part of him and watching as his stars glowed more with each breath he took.

After they made love, laying at each other’s side with their limbs still entangled and their hands still caressing the other, conversation came easily again, even if they had stayed up for almost the entire night. He was so easy to talk to, he listened intently to what the mortal had to say, adding his own opinions and views to his rambles.

Nightmare was a great listener, looking at the mortal with an amused smile on his face. Cross does not even remember what they talked about, but they went on and on until they fell asleep, satisfied and happy after a beautiful night together.

Cross needed to see him again. To be held in his arms again, to feel his cold body against his. After he got dragged back to the brothel, he couldn't stop thinking of him, the god that gave him the best night of his life.

He wanted him. In a way Cross could not fully articulate just yet

His deity. Nightmare. The galaxy that drew his eye to the sky each night, that made him forget all his pain. His sore bones felt relief when thinking of his cold hands touching them again. Cross wanted him.

It was like Cross was losing his mind when thinking of him.

Even after months his fleeting touches were still felt on his body, his sweet voice still rang in the mortals' mind and his eye still pierced his very soul. The kisses they shared still exploded on Cross's lips, like active nebulas.

He made him feel alive again..It was like the mortal had forgotten how to breathe before he came and now that he was gone, he was once again like a man lost at sea, the waves crashed against him so hard the air left his chest. His soul screamed for the star, begging the god to hold it, to save him from the terrors of the brothel where he was imprisoned.

Yet, each night passed, each terrible night he felt another piece of him corrode away into nothing. He taught the mortal how to breathe again, and now the parlor was trying to take what he had given him away. They wanted him to go back to being a shell…

The god filled his soul up with a warm and fuzzy feeling of love and protection..and now they wanted to take his thoughts of the star as well, twisting and corrupting that pleasant evening into something horrible. They were trying to make him out to be one of them, but Cross knew he never would be.

No, his voice was far too patient…his caresses far too polite to be like theirs, who only knew to call him names and pull at him.

He never pulled him, he guided Cross.

He never raised his voice, he never undermined him, he never said anything about the mortal's chest. The chest so many thought had the most revolting scars, he simply passed a hand on them. He was curious as he looked them over.

“Did you get these in a battle? Or in a fight maybe?” He had asked Cross as they laid in his bed, “no..” the mortal answered, uncertainly, “I never went to battle..” the star looked up at him, tilting his head to the side with that undying curiosity of his. “Why do you have these then?”

Cross could not answer him. He could not have bared a look of disgust from him. He could not tell him that he had gotten his breasts removed and his body changed...he could not tell him he wasn’t born a man.

And yet..now that the mortal dream of that night again, he wants to allude himself. Dreaming of the star, looking up at him with a kind smile and telling him how much it really didn’t matter, telling him it wasn’t true, telling him he was the most interesting man the god had ever met. Such dreams were a luxury, a luxury Cross could have not been able to afford..and yet, he was greedy.

He wanted those dreams to be true, he wanted it with all his soul.

He didn't know what prompted him to- but he looked around the parlor one night. Usually, he stared at a wall or the ceiling the entire night, waiting for it to be over…but when he looked around, he saw everyone else, hurting just as he was. Other workers, belittled and beaten as he was, enduring his same fate. Something woke up in Cross that night, just like it did when he met the beautiful god.

This wasn’t right, none of this was.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized sooner, it seemed so simple… yet he always thought he deserved what was happening- why did he think that?! Why was that something he believed?

Now, Cross couldn’t tell you, he didn’t know the answer.

Maybe he was trying to repay his sisters somehow…maybe he felt bad that for many years they had to work like this while he only ran errands in the brothel. He didn’t know.

It was easy to talk with other workers, his older sisters weren’t here anymore, and even if they didn’t even know each other's names, it was easy to bond. They started to plan, to dream of freedom. He and two others led the way and one night, they finally revolted.

Cross couldn’t tell why they hadn’t thought of this before, maybe it was because they never even talked before then, maybe because they were all scared. But the handlers weren’t as intimidating as they always saw them, when they were scrambling to get away.

He was a fury, he only felt this alive when he was with his god before, or when he was running in the market to run errands for the madam in his youth. None of these people deserved his mercy… were they even people? They caused so much hurt to others, why? Was it for money or for pleasure? He didn’t know which was worse of the two.

For so many years they had terrorized them, abused them. And now, they finally had revenge. But they weren’t like them…after a victory the handlers would have tortured their victims for weeks, while they only killed them. Maybe in that sense, they really were merciful.

The fresh air on his scarred bones felt divine, how long had it been since they took them out for a party?

Their chains fell to the ground, but their necks and wrists still bore the marks of them, those marks would never fade, they knew.

With time, their numbers grew, their strength solidified. They raided camps, they took down caravans and they freed more and more people each time.

In only two years, they grew to be feared, they grew to be an army. An army of ex-slaves sounded like a joke, and yet, there they were, standing strong against it all.

Somehow, Cross was voted as leader, as general. He commanded the entire army, led operations, trained teams of new recruits and helped the newbies to acclimate to their newfound freedom. The night terrors were atrocious when they came, and yet he still slept, hoping to see his god in his dreams one day.

The star never left his mind, not for one moment, even as he raided parlors and sliced head after head, his soul always called for him. Cross grew stronger and older, his once underfed and thin body grew thanks to an all new diet. He hunted for himself, he trained, he sang, he cooked, he lived finally. He did anything he wanted, when he wanted.

Many mercenaries joined them, but they surprisingly didn’t want money in exchange for supplies. They believed wholeheartedly in their goals of freedom.

Epic was one of them- one of those that stuck around a lot around the camp, even if he was away for long weeks, he always stayed more than the others.

They made so much noise, the nobles shook in fear when they heard news of their movements.

The army heard of how the king's council wanted to put a stop to them- but nothing ever stood against them, even when they met his soldiers in full uniform, the soldiers smiled their way in support, did the god order them to let them do as they pleased? No one seemed to miss the parlors- at least, decent people didn’t, so it was the only logical conclusion.

The star had silently given them his blessing to tear down the slave industry, even from afar, he stood with them. Did he know Cross was leading them? Did he even remember him? Did he miss him as much as Cross did?

The mortal could only wish for such things, he could only dream of seeing his star again one day. On a chilly, early spring morning, it was like his pleas had been answered. A messenger came and he brought a letter, a letter from the god himself.

Cross's hands trembled as he opened it eagerly, he could smell the perfume and the ink the god used on it. His soul wanted to jump out again, it wanted so badly to feel the letter, just to have some sort of resemblance of the god's presence.

His writing was pristine and nothing but polite and cordial, Cross wanted to press his face against the paper to inhale his perfume some more- but the general kept a stoic face as he read silently in front of the soldiers that came to see what was happening.

The letter politely greeted him, explaining how much noise their army made and almost congratulating them for it under the lines, the god almost sounded amused.

Cross wished he was amused.

His breathing stopped when he read the rest- the god was inviting him to the palace for a meeting, he would get to see him again. Finally, they had the full attention of a god, his deity finally called back for him. After three years- Cross finally had his gaze again, they had made it, this meeting offered so many possibilities! On his side, at his service, they would have had so much more influence and freedom- this was it. This meeting had to go perfectly.

~~~

Thank you for reading!! This was actually the first chapter I wrote at the start, but it felt more organic to introduce the others first. This may be my favorite illustration so far

Reblogging and reading the book on ao3 helps out a lot 💜

[tulipdrawsstuff]

SO— I’ve finally gotten to the point in the hyperfixation I’m writing fanfiction… oh no. I’ll be posting the chapters on here first, and if i manage to finish it I’ll post the whole thing on a03!!

But first, the prompt. In episode 10 of season 6 rtte, there’s a hypothetical posed, what if that night, Hiccup had never shot down Toothless? What if he grew up completely and never graduated dragon training, then met Toothless as an eighteen year old?

The plot line in the episode is simplistic, just something Astrid cooked up on the spot to make Hiccup feel better, but I found myself intrigued by such an idea. What WOULD 18 year old Hiccup be like without Toothless?

Perhaps a little more bitter, and a LOT more traumatized.

So without further ado, allow me to present such a story…

CHAPTER ONE

“Shirking responsibility”

*This is Berk.*

Hiccup grunted, lifting an axe head up to the grindstone.

*Located twelve days north of hopeless, and a few degrees south of freezing to death.*

Hiccup shivered as the typical gale force winds blew into the shop, ruffling his shoulder length hair.

*Berk is stationed firmly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village, can be described in two words, sturdy… and a prison.

You’d expect the dragons to be more of a problem but really it’s—*

The sound of Snotlout slamming his fist into the counter made Hiccup jump and nearly loose control of the axe head he was sharpening.

*The people.*

“Do you have a problem, Snotlout?” Hiccup huffed, already unamused.

“Yeah I do, I’m still waiting on that gold axe, you know, that pure gold axe, Astrid’s betrothal gift from me?” Snotlout lectured.

Hiccup sighed. “Considering you asked for it yesterday, it’s a little uh, not even constructed yet.” Hiccup replied dryly.

Snotlout had the nerve to look affronted.

*Astrid’s a practical woman, she’d hate having an axe she couldn’t even carry… even I know that, and I hardly talk to her.*

“Well I need it sometime this year, can you manage that Hiccup-mess-up?” Snotlout sneered.

*wow.. he rhymes.* Hiccup thought, raising his eyebrows and nodding along.

“Uhuh.” He said.

Snotlout grinned, as if he’d been victorious.

“Hahaha!!, Snotlout-!” He said, raising his arms in celebration before running off like some sort of gremlin, or at least, starting to.

“Ah, Snotlout, how are things with you?” The gravelly voice of Stoick the Vast— the chief, built like a stone wall, able to go hand to claw with dragons—

The chief, the *man* that was somehow Hiccup’s father.

Though, Hiccup was a little skeptical of that, always had been.

“Hah, great as always, m’ chief.” Snotlout said, chuckling as he took off his helmet, running his hand through his mildly greasy hair before putting it right back on.

“Good to hear, I’ve been gettin word of some glorious dragon kills from you recently.” Stoick said… *proudly*.

Hiccup pulled the axe head off the grindstone, looking at the edge carefully.

Razor sharp and perfect, but nothing his father would be proud of.

“Hah, well, naturally, we Jorgensons are just… pre-de-posed to greatness.” Snotlout responded.

Hiccup turned away from the shop window and wrinkled his nose in obvious distain.

*Predisposed. It’s predisposed*

Stoick laughed and clapped Snotlout on the back. “Pf, don’t let it get to yer head boy.” He said fondly.

Hiccup had stopped working on the axe by now, he couldn’t focus when his dad was around. Stoick’s glorious presence just seemed to take over whatever space he was in.

Hiccup supposed he’d better go… say hi to the guy now. He was the chief after all.

“H-hey dad.” He said, turning away from the axe to lean on the counter.

“Hiccup.” His father nodded. Then the burly man looked over his shoulder. “Where’s Gobber?” He asked.

“Oh he’s helping Sven, the sheep got out and… whatever he left me in charge.” Hiccup explained, looking up at his dad, eyes wide.

“Ah, I see, well, it’s about time you handled something on your own, speaking of— it’s high time you took that final dragon exam, ey?” Stoick prompted, crossing his arms.

Hiccup shrank under his father’s gaze. “W-well dad…”

Stoick’s eyes narrowed, but before he spoke, Snotlout piped up. “He hasn’t been at dragon training, sir.”

*tattletail! Thor forbid I avoid something that I’m bad at and… generally hate…*

“Hiccup…” Stoick grumbled. “You’re eighteen years old, way too old to shirk responsibility!” He scolded. Hiccup cringed away from the counter but Stoick just walked into the blacksmithy not allowing Hiccup to run off in any capacity.

“Dad I-“ Hiccup started.

“No, Hiccup I’ve had enough of your excuses, you *will* be at dragon training all week, and at the end of it all you, yes you, *will* bring me a dragon’s head, do I make myself clear?”

Hiccup, frozen in fear, just nodded slowly, because what else could he do?

Of course Stoick continued.

“You’re eighteen, and you have nothing to show for it.” Okay, ouch. “And I will not allow my son to just- run away from whatever scares him, that’s not how Vikings do things, that’s not how the *Haddocks* do things.”

Stoick set a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. “I love you son but… I cannot stand *cowards*, I will not allow you to become that, I refuse to.”

Hiccup shrunk in on himself. “O-okay dad.” He whispered, staring anywhere but Stoick’s eyes.

“Hey, come on, this is your dream, it has been since you’ve been a boy, don’t turn away from it now…” Stoick pressed, perhaps an attempt at being encouraging, but it went in one ear and out the other.

He’d been saying the same motivational speech for years.

And they both knew, it just didn’t change Hiccup.

Hiccup- when it came down to it, never seemed to be able to kill a dragon.

Stoick waited for Hiccup to… what, be reassured? Gain some enthusiasm out of the blue?

But Hiccup could muster nothing but a bitter sort of resignation. “Fine, I got it dad.” He mumbled. Stoick nodded with a sigh, patting Hiccup on the shoulder, almost causing his small son to stumble under the force.

“Snotlout, you see he gets out of this smithy every morn’ and gets to dragon training, yes?” Stoick asked.

“Ha- of course sir!” Snotlout beamed. Stoick laughed. “Now that’s the energy I like to see!”

[scarletwitchproperty]

Can't remember what I used to fight for - Chapter 9

masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Wanda Maximoff

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Mentally stable Maximoffs who? (also, the morning after...yes morning, as in they started doing the nasty right before noon and finished late at night '-' )

Warnings: a little bit of angst? (yeah no, I'm shit at writing angst but I felt like creating a tiny conflict with Billy and his mother...miscommunication much?)

Wanda had never in her life felt so alive yet tired at the same time. Her legs felt like jelly despite the many hours she managed to sleep (good gods they went at it for hours she doesn’t think they even had an ounce of food in them, just water and, well…), but Wanda would never regret it. She knows she fell asleep first tho, because the last thing she remembered is looking at the glorious sight of Rio riding Agatha right next to her as her eyes closed. 

Now, however, both witches are fast asleep with their arms all over her, their legs equally as tangled with hers, and Wanda has no desire to disturb their rest. Rio has her head resting on her chest with her hand innocently laying on her breast (who was she kidding, nothing was innocent about Rio), and Agatha is using her left arm as a pillow while both of hers are wrapped around Wanda’s waist. All in all, Wanda could die right here and she would be happy. 

The door to the bedroom creaks open and Wanda watches with dread as none other than Nicky pushes his way inside the bedroom. She freezes, suddenly realizing the state she’s  in and not knowing how to explain it to a six year old child, much less the son of the women who fucked her stupid the previous noon, afternoon and night…

Nicky’s bright blue eyes fly all over the room, his nose scrunching when he sees the clothes scattered everywhere, before he finally notices a slightly panicked Wanda in bed. With his mothers. 

“Wanda? What are you doing with mama and mommy?” 

“Ah, you see…we had a sleepover little man, nothing to worry about.” 

“Then why are you naked?” 

“Oh god,” Wanda doesn’t know how to respond to that. She doesn’t feel ashamed about what happened the previous day, but she also doesn’t want to assume and say things to Nicky that Rio and Agatha aren’t okay with. “Because…I-“ 

“Are you my new mommy now?” 

“What in the world,” Wanda sits up in bed, squirming in place when she feels Rio and Agatha tightening their hold on her in their sleep and trying to force her back down in bed. “What makes you say that?” 

“Because only my mama and mommy are allowed in this bed,” and really Wanda should’ve seen this coming. A very familiar smirk appears on the little boy’s face and suddenly Wanda’s heart drops inside her chest. “I’m gonna tell everyone!” 

“Wait, no! NICKY!” 

The six year old runs out of the room laughing like a little maniac before Wanda can even react. The red head then bolts out of bed, wrapping the blanket around her body and dragging it along with her, trying to catch up with Nicky. 

Wanda barely steps into the living room behind Nicky when his voice resonates so loud throughout the entire house she’s sure even the neighbours heard it. Heck, the entire town of Westview might’ve heard it. 

“WANDA IS MY NEW MOMMY!” 

That gets several reactions from Agatha’s entire coven (because yes, the noisy witches and Billy just had to stay the night). Jen is looking at Wanda with a knowing gaze, eyes appraising her appearance, Lilia and Alice start to clap their hands and wolf whistle for her and Billy looks like he’s going to vomit at any moment. 

“…you see Billy, I thought I was joking about the new sibling part but it might not be a joke anymore.” 

“For the last freaking time Jen shut your trap!” 

“Whooooo! Good job girl!” Alice gets up and hugs Wanda, patting her cheek when she sees her blush. “One pretty witch for two pretty bitches!” 

“…and one of those pretty bitches will cut that hand off if you keep touching what’s hers.” 

In walks Rio dressed in nothing but an oversized sleeping shirt and underwear, followed by Agatha dressed in much the same manner. Wanda turns around and blushes at the looks they throw at her, their eyes raking up and down her body and suddenly the red head remembers she’s only dressed in a blanket. 

That movement alone makes Wanda lock eyes with her son, and really the sight of him being physically repulsed by her actions shouldn’t affect her that much but it does. She takes a step towards Billy, freezing a moment later when her son puts his hand up to stop her. 

“I can’t…please mom, not right now.” 

And the boy up and vanishes in a cloud of blue smoke, stunning everyone into silence. Everyone except Wanda who falls down to the floor sobbing like her entire world just ended. 

Someone dares to lay a hand on her shoulder at that moment, and the red witch is ready to blast them out of existence at the simple wave of her hand, even has her left one sparkling with chaos magic up in the air, but the moment she turns towards the person brave or stupid enough to approach her and she sees Rio’s sad face looking back at her, Wanda breaks down once again and she doesn’t hesitate to throw herself at the other witch. 

‘’…you know maybe poking fun at the kid the whole night might’ve been our worst idea ever,’’ Jen says quietly, taking several steps back when suddenly three angry pairs of eyes are thrown at her. ‘’What? We all thought it was fun!’’ Lilia throws a pillow in her face and she’s quick to backtrack. ‘’Okay it was all me, but he didn’t react like this last night!’’ 

‘’Well maybe because he didn’t have to look at his freshly fucked mother last night!’’ Lilia yells out, wincing when Wanda cries just a bit harder in Rio’s arms. ‘’I’m sorry Wanda honey, but the kid just wants his mother.’’ At Rio’s and Agatha’s twin frowns, the divination witch is quick to continue her train of thoughts. ‘’Not that he doesn’t like you both, but it’s hard enough that he hasn’t been able to find his twin, and now his mother that he only just got back is taken away from him…’’ 

‘’But…I’m his mother, I love him! I will always be here for him, he knows that, right?’’ Wanda is desperate at this point, looking around at everyone gathered. Dreads fills her when she sees the look on the coven’s faces. ‘’…Does he know that I was ready to tear down the multiverse to have him and his brother back? Did no one bother to tell him?’’ 

‘’Wanda, girl that’s kinda crazy-‘’ 

‘’Hey, nobody’s perfect!’’ Agatha is quick to interfere, seeing the telltale sign of anger in Wanda. Her brows are furrowed and her eyes have this faint red glow to them, a clear sign that her chaos magic is begging to be let out, waiting just under the surface. The purple witch grabs Wanda by the cheeks, making sure that she’s looking right back at her. ‘’Sweet girl, take some big deep breaths for me yeah? Let me handle this, I’ll talk to the kid.’’ 

‘’Why?’’ 

‘’Because right now he’s as emotionally stable as you are straight,’’ Agatha starts to say with a grin on her face, breathing a little bit easier when a tiny smile creeps at the corner of Wanda’s lips. ‘’The kid might say something he doesn’t mean, some hurtful things. He will eventually regret them, but to save us from having two emotionally unavailable Maximoffs on our hands let me receive all his wrath, yeah?’’ 

‘’But why would you do that for me?’’ 

‘’Because, little witch,’’ Agatha is suddenly all up in Wanda’s pace, ignoring the wide eyed gaze of her remaining coven. She places a light kiss upon Wanda’s cheek, breathing her in. ‘’I happen to care about you, and I don’t want to see you hurt. And a coven of witches take care of their own, that’s like a universal rule.’’ 

‘’I thought the Scarlet Witch doesn’t need a coven?’’ 

‘’Well now she does, so deal with it,’’ Agatha gives Wanda a sneaky peck on the lips, glowing at the awed look the younger witch gives her. ‘’Just try bot to burn the house down in my absence, yeah?’’ 

‘’Agatha, you will literally still be in the house,’’ Rio huffs out a laugh, sensing just like her wife that Billy didn’t actually disappear that far away as he is in fact in the basement, sitting right where the door to the Witches’ Road was created. ‘’The kid is right under our feet, don’t be dramatic.’’ 

‘’I am the original drama queen, didn’t you know my Love?’’ 

Billy is laying down on the concrete floor with his eyes looking up at the ceiling when Agatha arrives in her basement. The teenager doesn’t seem to be aware of her presence until she’s standing right above him. Billy frowns and rolls over when he sees her, refusing to even look at Agatha. 

‘’I don’t want to see you Agatha, go away!’’ 

‘’Too bad for you Billy, I promised a special someone that I would talk to you,’’ Agatha reveals, a tiny smile creeping up on her when she notices Billy shooting her a brief interested look. ‘’Your mother wanted to come down herself, but I talker her out of it.’’ 

‘’Don’t you even start on my m-‘’ 

‘’She thinks you hate her, by the way,’’ Agatha says, pointedly looking at Billy when he turns around with panic written all over his face. ‘’Do not act all shocked on me now, Teen.’’ Billy frowns at the nickname, opening his mouth to say something but Agatha starts to talk again before he does. ‘’How do you think she felt when you up and left after what you told her? After how you looked at her?’’ 

‘’That’s not true, I don’t…I don’t hate her,’’ Billy says as he starts to play with the sleeve of his hoodie. He thinks about his mother crying because of him and he starts to hate himself for it. ‘’I don’t want her to think that, it’s just…she’s barely been back a day, two at most, and she’s already getting involved with you two, which not cool by the way I told you she was off limits!’’ 

‘’Hey, Wanda’s a grown adult, she can do what she wants!’’ 

‘’I KNOW! But she’s my mother!’’ Billy is getting frustrated, trying to get his point across without looking like he’s desperate to get his mother’s love. Which, to be fair, he kind of is. ‘’She was my mother before she became whatever she is to you know, why can’t she pay attention to me?! Doesn’t she love me?!’’ 

‘’Don’t be stupid, of course she loves you!’’ Agatha scoffs at Billy’s words, but then she remembers that basically no one bothered to tell him about what Wanda did up until now, and her expression softens. ‘’She almost destroyed the multiverse trying to find you and your brother! She also very nearly killed herself when she thought she couldn’t have you back!’’ 

‘’…she did?’’ 

‘’Of course she did, she’s a Maximoff. You lot don’t know how to show your love on a small scale,’’ Agatha says with a roll of her eyes. ‘’You two might succeed in finding Tommy if you work together. Your mother is a powerful witch, you know?’’ 

‘’But what if she’s too busy being your…plaything of whatever she is?’’ 

‘’Hey now you take that back! Your mother isn’t a thing, she’s a very intelligent and capable woman who so happens to be attracted to me and my wife,’’ Agatha wants to strangle Billy for daring to imply that Wanda is just another disposable thing in her life, that’s she’s merely something to throw away in the trash after she served her purpose. Wanda is so much more already, but Agatha isn’t about to tell Billy what she really thinks about his mother and all the things she wants to do to her. That would get her a one way ticket back on the Witches Road for sure. ‘’If you would tell her you want to spend time with her instead of standing there looking at her with your wide eyes she wouldn’t be able to say no to you, trust me.’’ 

‘’Are you sure she would listen to me?’’ 

‘’Oh my god I’m surrounded by idiots!’’ Agatha disappears only to reappear a second later with none other than Wanda herself, this time fully dressed in what Agatha suspects if one of her favorite pair of jeans and a red sweater. She pushes the red head towards her son with a little bit too much strength and she watches as both mother and son tumble to the floor. ‘’Wanda, for the love of all that is holy tell your emo son that you love him more than life itself because he doesn’t trust me when I told him that you do!’’ 

The purple witch runs back upstairs, leaving behind her two wide eyed Maximoffs staring at each other not knowing what to do. 

Wanda makes the first move, at first tentatively reaching out for Billy with her right hand, and when the teen doesn’t flinch away from her the Scarlet Witch full on pulls her son into a bone crushing hug. 

‘’Billy I’m so sorry that I made you feel as if I don’t care about you, because I do,’’ Wanda whispered against her son’s head, slowly breathing in and out as Billy hangs on to her tighter and tighter. ‘’I don’t know if you even remember that, but I once told you and your brother that a family is forever, and we could never truly leave each other-‘’ 

‘’-even if we tried. Oh my god mama I remember!’’ Billy is shaking like a leaf as his mind takes him back to their final moment in the Hex, at the soft look on his mother’s face and the underlying heartbreak that she tried so hard to hide from them for what she was about to do. ‘’I love you mama, I’m sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t.’’ 

‘’It’s okay Billy, I understand that you were a little jealous that my attention wasn’t solely on you-‘’ 

‘’I wasn’t jealous mama!’’ 

‘’Yes you were!’’ 

‘’…okay, yes I was but no need to remind me!’’ Billy whines as he tries to burry himself further inside his mother’s arm, content for the first time in a long while. ‘’I just want you all to myself, is that wrong?’’ 

‘’It’s not, but maybe try not to act like me being with Agatha and Rio makes you want to hurl yourself out the window next time?’’ 

‘’…mama I saw you almost naked with hickeys all over your neck and chest. Who wants to see their mother like that?’’ 

‘’Fair enough, I’ll try not to traumatize you more than you already are.’’ 

‘’Thank you.’’ 

‘’…do try to knock on their bedroom door in the future tho, I cannot promise that they will behave.’’ 

‘’MAMA!’’