#it's too late to completely dismiss it i'm too far in

[juliamccartney]

ngl i'm so compelled by the jon!celia madness

[notquitecanon]

Search History // Poly!141 x Reader

A continuation of this thought

Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.

I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)

CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut

Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks

“The 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.” 

Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base. 

“Thank you, private.” You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video. 

After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisiting… 

By god, they’d done it. 

Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldn’t look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny. 

Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video she’d stopped speaking words, so accent didn’t matter much.  But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin. 

It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost… the only link he’d visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit. 

God, if you told anyone about this… They’d tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted. 

But hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone. 

The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the man’s lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod. 

“Holy shit…”  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Price’s. 

Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. They’d been gone for a month and a half, and it’d been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world. 

It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus. 

Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-

“Just the bird we were looking for!” 

It was Kyle’s voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos he’d replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, “What’d the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.” 

A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god you’d bitten your nails to stubs or they would’ve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength. 

Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t.  Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Price’s chest. 

The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you. 

“Your intel was good.” It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, “They didn’t even see us coming.” 

“They never see you coming, that’s kind of your whole thing.” You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldn’t noticed. focus, focus, focus. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Price’s fingers. 

“Don’t be so modest, bonnie!” He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didn’t waver, “Couldn’t of done it without our lass in the chair.” 

“ ’nough, Johnny,” Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that they’d all but cornered you against, “Put ‘er down.” 

Soap’s laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, “ 'e’s right though. Intel was good.” 

They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew they’d seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnny’s tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.

“Glad to be of service.” You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didn’t). Jesus Christ, you couldn’t do this.  You couldn’t tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, “Enjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.” 

As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review. 

You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination. 

____

You’d gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long. 

“Morning, love.” It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat. 

“Looking good, bonnie,” He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, “Tired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a little… softer.”  

You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gaz’s ass, and he sure didn’t seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content. 

“Price wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.” Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction.   

“A present? For me?” You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, “It’s like Christmas.” 

“You been good this year?” Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, “Nah, she’s definitely been naughty.” 

Both Sergeant’s shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee. 

“I’m leaving now.” You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, “Y’all should shower. Or take a nap.” 

“You want us naked?” Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. “And in bed?” 

Now that was some imagery. Taking the lord’s name in vain you didn’t dignify that with a response other than a huffed, “Leaving now.” 

____

The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive. 

You could almost ignore how Price’s fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes. 

“Has a self destruct program that Gaz didn’t want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.” Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain. 

“What’s on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.” Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, he’d draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft. 

“So don’t screw it up, got it.” You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldn’t feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations.  He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later. 

“Precisely,” John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, “You won’t screw it up, love.” 

The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.

“I’m having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, I’m gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.” Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, “We want you to come. Couldn’t have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.” 

“Oh, uh-“ You started before you could think of a good excuse, “I’ll be really busy… with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, “This can wait.” 

“Files. Coding. Security checks.” You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured you’d have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if they’d been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. “I’m a little behind. Been… distracted lately."

“Everything all right, love?” He ‘asked’ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, “You’ve been… skittish, since we got back.” 

Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, “ ‘m fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. How’re you?” 

Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a desk… 

Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, “I’m fine, really.” 

“Either lie more convincingly or tell me what’s bothering you, sweet.”  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. You’d have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. You’d always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasn’t as easy to write off as ‘love’ or ‘bonnie’, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal. 

“I’m not bothered.” You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that you’d been thinking about way too much lately-, “Listen, I’m not judging, you’re grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that it’s my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didn’t know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-“ 

“You can tell 'em yourself. ’s your job, sweet.” Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected ‘firmly’ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, “At my place. Tonight. 8 o’clock. Not a request.” Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldn’t help but nod and squeak, “Yes, sir.” 

___

Part Two

Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)

Tags: @fruitymoonbeams-blog @viviennevianna @savas-q1 @cringeycookies @lainey-laines @buttercup337 @acosmisted @carqueensworld @tmartin0918 @dreamland08 @sheepdogchick @hidden-wildflowers @lilynotdilly @astrxsee @joopyjup @originalsoulcollector @henhouse-horrors @ohdrey89 @red5tars @cod-z @balletbiscuit @spacecrawllerr @scrumptioussportstoadgarden-blog @blues-of-neptune @monster-effer @yunho-leeknow @ungodlydilf @pluviofleur @jandthecrow @fangtoothgod @coquetterie-dancer @sapphires-and-silver-things @ghost-is-my-bbg @loveergirll @silly-starfish @popkle @honestlymassivetrash @not-mentally-sane @devoetee @beloveds-embrace @jellyamour @simon141price @divinecat

[grugruel]

Sleeping With the Enemy

Pairings: Silco x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You're a councillors daughter secretly working with the Eye of Zaun, fulfilling each other's needs.

Political needs, of course. It's purely business. They would never be stupid enough to start an affair . . . Unless?

Wordcount: ca 3.5k

Warnings: enemies AND lovers, hate-fucking, toxic, Silco being evil, angsty, pinv sex, rough sex, power imbalance, fighting for control, complicated feelings, twisted love, forbidden relationship, dacryphilia ish, cockwarming, blowjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, choking, cum eating, creampie, petnames (girl, princess, devil, Sil)

AN: yet to be proofread. This might be one of my favourite works, he's insane . . . I need him.

"Let go off me," she snarls, yanking mirthlessly against the strong womans grip. "Release me Sevika, or-"

"Or what?" She cuts the girl off with a sneer, metallic fingers sinching around her bicep. Sevika holds her close enough to force the girl to stare up through her eyebrows if she wants to achieve any semblance of eye contact.

"Or she tells her precious father," the man cuts in, a nonchalant smile to his tone.

"He doesn't know I'm here," the girl snaps, defiantly locking eyes with the industrialist. Clad in shadow, he's a mere silhouette backlit by Zaun's streets. "He doesn't know anything."

Picking up a brand new cigar, he clips the end and flicks a lighter open, toying with the flame. All in due time, he's not rushing to spoil such a favored treat.

"Good," he says and gestures dismissively, signaling his trusty henchman to leave.

Sevika releases the girl with a displeased huff and slams the door behind her. The only thing she likes less than piltovians, is them wandering too far from their fabricated safety and ending up on her doorstep.

She watches the muscular woman leave, staring at the closed door in contemplation as she once again finds herself alone with the eye of Zaun.

Something clatters behind her, a lighter discarded on a desk. "You're late," he mutters, bringing the smoking cigar to his lips.

Anger begins to blaze inside her. That's it? That's all he has to say? "Six enforcers are dead," she snaps, nose scrunching. Disgusted by the mere thought of that demon's violence. "She's a loose canon, Silco. She blew them up for the hell of it."

From the dark, a red orb slips her way. He leans forward, having the rooms gloomy light illuminate his face only to throw the girl a disapproving look, barely deeming it worthy to look her in the eyes. "You forget yourself, girl."

Swallowing, she forces herself to calm down. Aggrivating such a volatile man never proved a good idea, and displaying anger against his daughter proved even worse.

Carefully, she ventures closer. Testing the waters and finding them thick as mud. The very air around him emenates danger, and her body slows down, relucant to put itself in such unpredictable environments. "You broke our deal," she announciates, finding it safer to put the blame on him rather than the blue haired demon he protects so ferociously.

"You disrupted our shipment," he repeats her ridiculous attempt. "It's simple business. Collateral," he shrugs and gestures toward her, vaguely implying the deaths should be on the girls consience. He doesn't say it outright because he doesn't need to, because he doesn't care if it hurts her feelings. Because, he doesn't care about the lost lives of a few topsiders, lives of enforcers even less. In true rebel spirit.

Massively unimpressed, he sizes her up when she places herself on the other side of the desk. Gripping the edge, the wood is tough beneath her fingers as she strains to keep herself in check. Blue and green light his back, lining the countours around his body. It softens him in some ways, as if the light hasn't completely shunned him yet.

Suddenly smirking, Silco's gaze drifts over her. Studying her tense disposition with spiteful glee as he enjoys the irony of a murderous piltovian. "Contemplating violence wont relieve you of this predicament."

"Killing you would."

"Threatening me so early in the morning?" He tsks, taking a deep drag of the cigar to then blow a ring of smoke in her direction. "Perhaps I should have approached your father instead, the councillor would've been easier to handle . . . More willing to please."

Keeping eye contact, she doesn't react, and a glint of cuiosity to sparks in his gaze. "He has nothing to do with this, and you know it," she tries again. "But Jin-"

Silco's smirk falls. "Hold your tongue, girl." Pinching the bridge of his tall nose, he releases a heavy sigh. "Lock the door," he orders, looking at her through his eyebrows.

Menacing, haunting. She could describe him with a hundred different horrific words. Yet, he doesn't scare her. They both know she's right.

Breathing relief, she does as she's told. When asking her to create a boundary between the world and this room, he shows her nothing has changed. Whatever they have remains within the confines of his office and her bedroom. It takes the edge off, and she lets the inhabiting worry slip away.

Upon her return, she softly stalks around the desk until sidled up against the short side. "Shoving clever words down my throat won't shut me up, Sil."

Rubbing his face, he looks at her through his fingers. Heavily disapproving of the nickname. "Dont tempt me," he warns. "I'll find other ways to shut you up."

She swallows, a single pulse throbs in her core. Moving around the desk, she slides a finger along it's edge and places herself infront of him, bathing her in the very same darkness that Silco finds himself in.

A small smirk flicker on his lips. But even though it dissolves, turning back into its usual serious mask, the satisfaction of the expression linger on his features.

"It cant happen again," he warns a third time, he must going soft on her. His hands move, trading the cigar for the the ability to touch her. One hand reaches for her thigh, sliding beneath her skirt. While the other reaches up, grabbing her chin to stare into her eyes. "The shipments are important." Silco applies just enough pressure on her chin to keep it stinging, just enough to understand that he didn't take the loss lightly. While the thumb beneath her skirt brushes lightly over her hipbone.

Inspite their predicaments, their relationship was business from the beginning and the majority still is. He tells her this through the contrasting touches.

She nods.

"Use your words, girl. Tell me you understand. This cant happen again."

But she won't concede, not yet. "No more attacks," she murmurs, placing her hands on his thighs. "No more deaths." The girl sinks to her knees, slowly, and making sure he keeps his gaze glued to hers. Being so close to him, she gets a whiff of his cologne. He smells of musk and wood, Smoke and whiskey. He smells of man.

They know what buttons to press when it comes to one another, and right now, she needs safety for her people in much the same way he needs independence for his. The difference laying within their methods of accomplishment. But looking at them now, it's clear they've got more in common than she's previously thought.

Silco spreads his legs further apart, welcoming her advancements. "I wonder what daddy dearest would say if he saw you now; that pretty princess of his . . . Negotiating on her knees." He slides a hand beneath hers, lacing their fingers together before leaning back in his chair to enjoy the show.

It's a small sign of fondness, one he confidently gives. Showing his inclination toward her means little, for they already know where they have each other. Unwilling to put it into words, they feel them silently.

Truth is, they enjoy the power imbalance, they enjoy the hatred their respective people share. Peculiarly, it unites them, and simultaneously fuel their polarity. They're a strange equation, two variables with a common sum.

Helping each other with free hands, they unbutton his pants. "Im sure he'd be proud of your devotion," he mocks, exhaling that infamous low chuckle.

Spitting into her hand, she reaches into his pants. "He'd share the pride with your people," she smiles and looks up at him innocently, pulling his member out. "–when they find out you're working with a councillor's daughter . . . Fucking her no less." She leans in, teasing his tip with a slow circling lick, gathering the pre-cum on her tongue. With a corner curving upward, his lips part, and there's a silent intake of breath. Brushing his hand along her cheek, he collects stray hair covering her face and gathers it at her neck, twirling it around his fingers. "Go on," he urges.

And so, she finally closes the distance and takes him in her mouth.

With a hiss, he squeezes the hand laced with his. Slender fingertips dig into the back of her hand. "Little devil," he groans, hand burrying deeper into her hair and balling into a fist, coincidentally pulling on her scalp.

Clasping her still spit-wet hand around his shaft, she strokes him, adding on to the bobbing of her head.

"Yes," he moans, reclining his head against the back of the chair. "Carry on, girl."

Im sync with her hand, she works him until he's close to squirming, trying his very best to keep a semblance of composure. Never did she think such a powerful man would tremble beneath her touch or the pressure of her lips. But here he was, his usual neat combed back hair fallen over his forehead, beads of sweat gathering on his temples.

He'd started using his hand to guide her head, helping her find the perfect path toward his climax. Chest heaving and teeth bared, he chuckles breathlessly as the squelching of their actions reach his ears. Pushing her too far, she makes half-choking noises when she takes his entire length down her throat. Causing saliva to spill out of her mouth and roll down his length.

"Sloppy," he snarls, manicured nails digging into her hand. "-used to sucking cock."

She whines from the rare usage of crude words, making her core purr. His inches twitch in her mouth, sensing how close he is. "Please me," he supresses a groan, calling her name. "Swallow."

It happens quickly. His breathing turns rapid, his hips arching as he spills into her mouth. Tasting of rich salt as she swallows.

Smirking devilishly, he catches his breath. "Thats it . . . Well done." He brushes his thumb along her index finger.

Joy trickles into her heart at the praise, but there is little room as her body is already filled to the brim by need. With heavy eyes and glistening lips, she stands up on her knees. "Kiss me," she whispers.

Unlacing their fingers, he moves to slide a thumb across her lips, gathering some of the milky seed she'd yet to swallow. "Open up, princess." He pulls on her hair to tilt her head back.

Her lips part automatically, a knife slicing through her pride at the irony of the name. Silco slips his thumb into her mouth and wipes it clean on her tongue. He watches with fascination as her lips close around the digit, volunteering to suck it off as he pulls it out. "Kiss me," she repeats.

The fingers still burried in her hair twitches at the sight. Acting on impulse, they bunch her waves, pulling her close enough for their lips to play ghost. He tilts his head to the side, bringing them impossibly closer. "Tell me you understand," he murmurs, watching her reaction as the featherlight touch tickles her lips.

Her expectations for the night and the soft shell of intimacy around them shatters, but she'll never give him the satisfaction. The kiss was a wish from her own selfish needs, but giving him what he wants without the safety she require for her people is not. "No."

With a harrowing glance, he releases her. "I have work to do, you know where the door is," Silco says, nodding toward the exit. He then runs his hand through his hair, combing it back into place.

So quickly is the mood ruined and the rush of lust diminishes, settling her nerves. Instead it is the annoyance and the anger she arrived with that begins to rebuild.

The girl scoffs. "Petty, man-child," she mumbles, keeping her voice beneath her breath. But she wants something from him too, anything. She's derserves it, it just the matter of taking it.

Then, something just clicks in her mind and an irruption takes control of her body. Narrowing her eyes in quick to non-existent contemplation, she grabs his collar and pulls him in for a kiss. It only lasts for a second before she pushes herself away and stands up, not planning to stick around to deal with the consequences.

But before she gets a chance to move too far, a hand grabs her forearm and yanks her back. "You stubborn girl," he whispers in her ear, an arm slung around her torso as Silco holds her against his chest. She feels her panties being pulled to the side, and the head of his member lining up with her core. "Bleeding your integrity dry for those imperious, self-important cretins." He teases her entrance, sliding the tip up and down her folds.

"I am one of them, or do you forget?" She snaps.

Without warning, he lowers her onto his inches, fitting them inside her like they've been molded. The girl gasps at the feeling and Silco's fingers curl, releasing a groan as his fingers rouch the fabric at her ribs. "Even now?" He adjusts the girl in his lap. "Would they deign to descend from their thrones as you? Stooping to my level, manipulating on a whim to fullfill your needs." He pulls her closer, nudging her profile with his. All the while he's got his still hard member pushed up inside her, soft walls of flesh welcoming him eagerly. "Would they still accept you when found-out, or will they throw you to the wolves as the rumours spread? When they find out Zaun's villainous crime lord is fucking Piltover's princess," he laces the words with venom, hands slipping upward. One stops at her breast to squeeze while the other clasps around her throat. "When they whisper of the ways he uses her. How he puts her on her back, makes her kneel . . . How he bends her over," he murmurs, sending shivers down her spine.

She grows dizzy, a mix of worry and pleasure clouding her senses. His words hit home, drawing her lips into a thin line. "They are still my people," she breathes, voice close to breaking, sunding more like she's trying to convince herself.

"They will be your downfall." He puts pressure on her throat. "We've made sure of that, you and I."

"No . . . Silco, that's not true."

The hand holding her breast slips beneath her skirt. "We've made our beds-" slender fingers find her clit. "And we will sleep with the consequences."

Head lulling back against his shoulder, back arching, pleasure spikes as he stimulates her thrice fold. Circling her clit while throbbing inside her, and acting catalyst is the experienced hand around her throat. It limits the bloodflow and multiplies her pleasure. "Fuck," she whimpers, hips squirming, flesh randomly spasming around him.

Silco groans at the sensation, gaining his own pleasure from the whole ordeal. But that is not his goal. "Be still," he warns.

The collossall amounts of pleasure blinds her, it grabs hold of her senses and refuses to let go. Her nerves burn and fingers curl. Its all too much, yet not enough. Tears of gather in her eyes, slowly spilling over to roll down her face. "A-almost . . ."

Silco adjusts his grip around her throat so uses his thumb to tilt her face toward him, then watches how the tears streak her makeup, leaving watered down mascara in their wake. He places his lips on her skin, kissing the tears away while enjoying their salty taste. He studies her rosy cheeks and knitted expression, memorising the small whimpers she breathes.

The girl can no longer keep still and her back prepares to arch, limbs preparing to surge with blinding hot pleasure. "Im-- mhh, I-" She mewls, and the knot releases.

. . .

Until it isn't. She feels Silco retract his hands, causing oxygen flood her brain and irritation to anchor her mind. The knot in her stumach re-ties, loosely adjusting until the pressure completely dies down. "I see callousness runs in the family," she complains, almost in pain from the sudden lack of stimulation.

Silco circles an arm around her waist. "It's essential to survive," he says and stands up, still swollen member slipping out of her. Supporting the girl as her knees wobble, she's unable to stand on her own due to the afflictions he's caused her. Turning her around, he helps her onto the desk. Chest to chest, he braces against the wood, one hand on either side of her, effectively boxing her in.

She lays a finger beneath his chin, and he looks up at her through his eyebrows. Exhaling, he moves between her thighs. Silco reaches out to her, loosely cupping her face as his thumb smears the streaked mascara. "There is no white knight," he says, pushing reality on her, weather she's willing to listen or not.

She nods. "I know." Tainted by the impure air of Zaun, branded by the touch of it's Eye. If she ever is to be saved, it must be by her own hand. Her smile is faint as her eyes fall from his.

He grabs her face and squeezes her cheeks. "Look at me," he tells her with a gravely tone. Their eyes lock. Dissappering between them, his other hand lines himself up with her core.

Taking a gamble, she grabs his tie and pulls him in, properly locking lips for the first time. Because he doesn't pull away, and neither does she. Her bottom lips begins to tremble, surprised he ever let it go this far. Their initial moment passes, evolving into seconds until they realise neither is breathing and they tear apart for much needed air, not straying far. Their lips hover, ghosting as previously. "You steal whats not your's to take."

She nudged his nose with her own. "Does survival not apply here? I never took you for a hypocrite."

His top lip twitches, and she feels him bare his teeth in a silent snarl as his fingers apply pressure to her cheeks. "How clever," he murmurs, and pushes inside her once again, catching her off guard.

They share a reflexive gasp, and as he starts to move, every thrust exchanges breaths between them. The girl's lips curve, heavily enjoying the tiny sliver of emotional intimacy he's finally giving her.

Her legs circle around his hips as he grabs her waist one handed, adding further levrage as his fingers dent her flesh. Silco starts a heavy pace and their lips reconnect, mirroring their bodies, it reflects their feelings. The kiss growing needy and rough.

"Get on your back for me," he mocks and releases her face. "Prove them right."

She bites his lip, tugging on it as she lies back against the desk and pulls him with her.

Hand suddenly free, he hooks it beneath her knee and pulls it up against his side to gai better access. Slowing down the pace, he manages to take her deeper, harder. She groans, head lulling to the side as her climax begins to build. "Dont stop." Not again.

"Look at me," he breathes, warning in his tone as he's inclined to watch her topple over the edge. Her brows knit together, but her gaze finds his. The knot closing as his thrusts begin to grow erratic.

Pleasure burns her fingers and quickens her pulse. "Close, c-" she begins, but he cuts her off with another kiss, tongue slipping between their lips to explore her mouth.

And just like that, she bursts. Traveling through her from top to toe. Silco following short thereafter. "It's alright . . . Good, girl," he whispers.

Once they've caught up with their breaths, Silco straightens out, and rearranges his clothes before helping her to her feet.

-

"I understand," she says, halting by the door.

He looks up from his seat but is quick to stand, slowly stalking toward her. Stopping just short of her smaller frame, he reaches behind her back to grab the door handle. "I don't control her. She is my daughter like you are your father's," he says and meets her eyes. "But I will speak to Jinx." Leaning down, he kisses her cheek, catching her off guard. Affection is newly discovered territory between them, but from him to give it so freely after battling it out is a very big surprise. But as quick as ot started, it's over. His soft expression morphing into his usual stern disposition. "Dont be late again girl," he says and opens the door.

-

Somehow, they've become entangled. Silently sharing affection their respective people would deem unfit. Silco wont hurt her, if he can help it. But such is nature. They'll stand on opposite sides, prioritising their own families, cities. But not without a thought of the other, wishing it could be different. It probably never will be, for such is faith and such is time. If only it could rewind.

-

[ameliathornromance]

The Other Woman - Part 2

A/N: I'm blown away by the support you guys have given me with this part. I want to thank everyone who commented on the first post and gave me feedback! I'm always happy to recieve constructive critisim to make my work better for you all. This part 2 is a little different from how I usually handle part twos, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Link to PT 1

Your eyes itched as you dragged them open the next morning. The tears you shed last night had completely exhausted you by the time you got back to your room in the Palace, you had just flopped into bed without changing, skirts covered in melted icing.

A part of you was glad for it, as you had something to distract yourself from the soreness of heart break in your chest. You had no idea what you were going to do when you headed to court. The King’s personal guard would be there, and as far as you were aware, he hadn’t seen you the previous night.

Which means to him, nothing had gone wrong between the two of you.

You weren’t sure what to do knowing that. You could: A) Pretend nothing is wrong, carry on with this affair like you’d never seen what you had, or B) End things with the Orc and live with the guilt of what you did for the rest of your life.

Option A was just too difficult for you to do. You couldn’t bare the thought of doing something so heartless to that lovely Orc lady who worked in the kitchens. She was too kind to you, and always willing to lend a shoulder when you needed it… She would be a great mother.

So, it looks like option B is the only way to go.

As you finished remaking your bed, a shaky sigh escaped you as you leaned against your mattress, trying to steady yourself to face the day.

Leaving your quarters, you walked through the halls with your head in the clouds, thinking about how exactly you were supposed to end this affair. Would the King’s guard be angry? Upset?

After stewing on it, a wave of indignity washed over you. Really, none of this is your fault, it’s not like you were aware of his marriage. So, why should you be the one to break it off?

Of course, the last thing you wanted was to stay with the Orc, but if anything, he should be the one ending things with you! He was the one who chose to lie to you and hurt you in that way.

But how would you send that message to him? It’s not like you could just tell him what you saw. He might try to convince you to stay with him and you would not be persuaded into doing such a thing.

… Maybe, if you ignored him, he’d get the message and just leave you alone? Then that way, he’d know that you were angry with him and then, he would have no choice but to apologise to you. He’s not a stupid Orc, he should realise sooner or later what you were upset with him about.

But then, how do you regain your dignity as a Lady?

You chewed your lip as you greeted the Queen, apologised for your lateness and then followed her, alongside the other ladies in waiting to the throne room.

Thinking about this anymore would have to wait. You had a job to do as the Queens lady in waiting.

Their excited whispers brought you back down to Earth.

“Do you think that he’s handsome?”

“I don’t know, have you ever seen a forest dweller before?”

“Well no, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not good looking!”

“(Y/N) what do you think?”

“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder at the others. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve really been all over the place this week haven’t you?” One of the ladies said, “you know we’ve been preparing for the Forest Fae? Well, the Lord of the Forest Fae, is apparently, devilishly handsome. And, he’s not married or in any other kind of commitment with a woman or man!”

Another one of the ladies giggled, “do you think he’s come here looking for someone to marry?”

“Unlikely.” The third lady said, dismissively. “Men of any species love to flounder, even when they’re married. Why make their promiscuity more complicated than it has to be? You agree with me, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You didn’t answer. Due to recent experience, you had no interest in trying to romance a Fae Lord, there was no point in trying to if he was so easily led astray. “All men seemed to be like that.” You said, callously. “Even if he is loyal to those he sleeps with, I’m not looking to marry a Fae Lord.”

“Oh come on (Y/N), don’t pretend you’re not even slightly interested!”

“Ladies,” The Queen shushed and all the other women fell silent. “Gossip is unbecoming of all of you. If any of you wish to become involved with the Lord, I’ve heard he’s not one for those who spread rumours.”

Upon reaching the throne room, all the chattering of the ladies had fallen silent.

The doors to the impressive room opened, the Queen, you and the other ladies in waiting taking their respective places next to their mistress as they waited for the Fae Lord to make his entrance.

Sunlight caught the Queen’s glittering necklace, making you look around in surprise. And infuriatingly, you caught the King’s Guard’s eye. He smiled at you, eyes kind and wide like he was expecting you to return it.

Instead, you whipped your head away from him and locked on the throne room door. Other courtiers bustled around the room, discussing whatever was on the nobles minds at that moment in time.

For now, you would just have to stick to your plan of ignoring him. What else could you do until you could think of something more suitable for vengeance?

Soon, the doors to the throne room opened and the whole room fell silent.

The first few Fae glided in like they were sliding on ice, their ethereal beauty suffocating and snuffing out any other attractive person in the room. There were eight of them, four entering from opposite sides of the doors, who twirled in what looked to be spider web like dresses, their skirts sparkling in the light as they came to a stop, their long blonde hair falling down their backs with an eery gracefulness.

One of the ladies next to you mumbled something about how the Fae were so lucky, but you were so focused on not looking around at the Orc standing beside the King, that you couldn’t hear what the rest of her sentence was about.

After the graceful – and attention stealing – dance, a Fae man, taller than the others you’d seen so far, graced the courts prescence.

His hair was so white you might have thought that he was an old man, if not for his smooth skin untouched by aging. His eyes were deep pools of black that threatened to suck you in and never let you go, while his smile was kind and serene.

The Fae Lord came to a stop a few feet away from the thrones, and bowed his head. “Your Majestys, it is so wonderful to see you all again. I’m so pleased that I could finally make this trip like my father before me.”

“And we are pleased to have you, my Lord.” The King returned. “As it’s your first time staying here at the Palace, we’ve prepared a little celebration in honour of your new position…”

As the King droned on about how he hopes that this will be the new beginning of a fruitful alliance between humans and Fae, yada-ya, a chill went down your spine.

While the King’s announcement had been going in one ear and out the other, you brought yourself back into the room and carefully searched for the source of your discomfort… only to find the Fae Lord, looking directly at you.

You stood a little taller, returning his gaze in an attempt to be polite. When you gave him a polite inclination of the head, his smile widened as the King finished his speech.

“And so, we will have this little ball to welcome you and hope that your stay will be as comfortable as possible.”

“Yes,” the Fae Lord said, airily. “I’m sure it will be.” He turned to look back at the King and inclined his head once again. “I appreciate that the ball isn’t until tonight, and since this is your court, I’d like to ask if I can be a little forward, your Majesty?”

The King frowned, but nodded his head.

“You see, I couldn’t help but notice that lovely lady standing over there,” the Fae Lord pointed at you, “and was wondering if it would be too much for me to ask her for her first dance tonight?”

Your eyes widened.

The other ladies beside you, nudged you in the ribs. “So it was you he was looking at! I was wondering why his eyes were wandering, I thought he was just bored!”

Face burning, your eyes darted to the Queen and in the process, caught sight of the Orcs face.

His nose was scrunched up as he snarled, “awfully cocky, aren’t you?”

The Fae Lord ignored the Orc as he looked at you once again, hands behind his back.

When you looked at the Queen, she smiled at you and jerked her head to the Fae. “Well? You don’t have to ask me for permission, Lady (Y/N).”

All eyes on you, you bit your lip and sucked in a deep breath. Most of all, you could feel the Orc’s eyes baring into the side of your skull, like he was trying to make you face him, daring you to accept the Lord’s offer.

But the image you saw the previous night, flashed through your mind.

Spite leading you, you answered the Fae Lord. “I’ll have my first dance with you, my Lord.” You said, firmly.

The Fae bowed his head to you, “I look forward to it, my Lady.” And with that, he said his goodbyes to the King and Queen before the entire court was dismissed.

The rest of the day went by with a bubbly air, all the ladies sneaking glances and smiles at you as you went about your day.

You, yourself, could hardly believe that you had accepted the dance. It was true, you weren’t interested in romancing this Fae Lord in the slightest… but if it meant that you could piss off the King’s Guard, then you would gladly accept anything else that the Fae Lord had to offer.

After all, it’s not like the Orc could jump in and say that you couldn’t do something, people would get suspicious then.

As soon as the Queen had sent the ladies in waiting to go and prepare for the ball later in the afternoon, they all pounced on you.

“I can’t believe it!” One of them said as they took you by the wrist. “He really asked you, in front of the whole court!”

“It’s just a dance,” you told them all as you made your way back to your apartments. And that was all it would probably be, you told yourself. “It was just formality that I accept him. It would have been an awful start to his stay if I had told him no.”

“But even so, to ask you in front of the entire court!” Another one of the ladies squawked. “He must really like you.”

“We haven’t even formally met.” You said.

“Oh can’t you just be romantic for one minute?!” The first Lady huffed. “I’m imagining a star-crossed lovers romance, where he dramatically proposes to you just before he’s about to leave, flying through the corridors, abandoning his carriage in search of you-”

“Alright.” You said, firmly. “I get it. Well you can have your fantasies all you like.” Once you reached your apartments, you yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind you, locking the other ladies outside.

Sliding to the floor, you pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed. When you’d first started seeing the Orc, all you did was fantasize like that. Dream of running away with him and sharing all sorts of romantic ventures together.

But any kind of desire for that experience had left the moment you saw his wife.

You didn’t want to colour all men with the same brush, but a betrayal like the Orcs, isn’t something that you can just shake off.

And although it gave you the slightest bit of pleasure to know that the Orc was angry with the Fae, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in the romance of it all. He may be the exact same as the King’s Guard for all you knew.

And… you didn’t want to end up hurt again.

Once evening finally did come around and you joined with the other ladies in waiting – who were all too eager to have you be the leader of the group – the ballroom was full of chatter, people drinking and watching couples dance in the centre of the room.

“Oh, he’s not here yet?” Frowned a lady beside you, “don’t worry, he’ll turn up soon I’m sure, most of the other Fae are here. You should sit by the entrance that way, he’ll see you as soon as he enters.”

The suggestion made you want to roll your eyes. While you were going to dance with this Fae, you didn’t want to be seen as desperate for company. Taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, you decided to hover to the side of the room.

As you sipped on the delicate glass, your eyes scanned the room where you spied the Queen dancing with the King, the other ladies mingling and chatting animatedly with other guests.

You caught yourself glancing at the entrance to the doors a lot. Keeping an eye out for the Fae Lord. You had to keep internally slapping yourself. This was just a means of getting back at the King’s guard.

And perhaps it was because the King’s guard was standing opposite the room, within perfect line of sight of keeping an eye on you that you were eager for the Fae Lord to arrive.

The Orc’s eyes glazed over the room, mostly following the King, but occasionally, he found you.

Anger boiled in your veins as you kept your eyes firmly fixed on the doors to the ballroom.

Even now, the Orc was good at keeping his affection for you a secret.

A part of you wanted to throw the wine glass in your hand at him, just to keep him on edge.

But, before you could put your thoughts into practice, gasps echoed around the room, drawing your attention to the ballroom doors.

The crowd parted as the Fae Lord’s eyes searched the room and found you. His eyes lit up at the sight of you and he passed through the crowd of people, and held a hand out to you. “There you are,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing hiding in the shadows over here? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be hidden away like this.”

You shook your head as he took a wine glass from a waiter and sipped from it, “do you mind if I have a drink before we dance?”

“No, not at all my Lord.” You replied.

Over his shoulder, you chanced a glance at the Orc, whose eyes were now locked onto you and the Lord.

The Fae spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your name first before asking for your dance, my Lady…?”

“(Y/N).” You answered smiling. “Thank you, for asking me for this dance.” You held your hand out to him, which he took and pressed a kiss onto your knuckles. A pleasant chill ran up your arm.

The Fae Lord bowed his head as he took another sip from his glass. “It’s an honour that you accepted. I should be thanking you for not humiliating me in front of all those courtiers.”

You chuckled at that. “I wouldn’t have done that to you, that would’ve been cruel, even if you were being very forward.”

“I just don’t have a care for all of these silly procedures,” the Fae said, waving his free hand around the ballroom. “There’s no point in any of it, I’d have preferred that the King and I just talk about what I’m here for and then to just leave, you know. But, a simple ball isn’t so bad.”

“So, you’d say you’re a simple man?” You asked.

“Completely.” The Fae finished his drink and you rushed to do the same too.

“My Lady, please, don’t do that on my account, we have the whole evening to dance, you can take your time.” He pulled the glass by the stem away from your lips.

You frowned, holding your free hand up to cover your mouth. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting, it would be rude of me to do that.”

With a sly wink, the Fae Lord said in a low whisper, “if I didn’t want to be kept waiting by you, I wouldn’t have asked for your first dance.”

You gave him a suspicious look, to which the Lord replied, “I want to get to know you, (Y/N).”

“Why?” You asked, shortly. “We’ve never even met before.”

The Fae Lord didn’t flinch at your tone. Instead, he searched your eyes. “Because, it seemed as though you were in need of some cheering up.” He said, simply. “And I don’t like seeing people upset.”

With a gentle smile, he patted your shoulder. “Don’t feel like you have to tell me what’s going on right now, after all, we did just meet each other. But whenever you’re ready, I’m here if you want to talk.”

You stared at him. Was he being serious? As you looked into his eyes you could sense no malice, no playfulness or manipulation in his face… Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to give this Fae a chance?

Once you’d finished your drink the pair of you took to the dance floor.

And for the next few days, he always made a point of talking to you. At first, it was mundane things, how did you sleep? Did you eat breakfast yet? Before it became more involved questions, like what your family did for business, asked about your other ladies in waiting and if they were doing well.

And gradually, you started to look forward to your little chats and began to ask about him and his life. It turned out he was an only child and took the Lordship after his father had died of some kind of tree associated illness.

He was funny, had a quick wit and was fond of lymerics. He liked the smell of morning dew on grass and the way the forest smelt after a rain storm. Oh, and he enjoyed rum cake.

Your stomach bubbled with excitement every morning now at the prospect of seeing him around the Palace and speaking to him in the evening, the Orc barely even crossed your mind anymore.

Except for when you were on your way to your apartments one time, and the Orc ambushed you from a dark corner of the halls.

“What is with you?” He snarled at you. “You’re completely ignoring me in favour of that pretty Fae man.”

You didn’t spare the Orc a glance and kept walking. “He’s nice to me.” You shrugged, “I can’t talk to other men?”

“It’s not just talking to other men!” The Orc hissed. “You’ve been ignoring me and the gifts I leave you, along with letters as well! Whenever I enter your rooms to give you something else, the other gift is always left unopened!”

He grabbed you by the wrist, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He tightened his grip, “did I do something wrong?” He asked you. “Tell me if I have, I will do what I have to do make up for it.”

Anger flared like a fire stoked with gunpowder. You wanted to yell at him, to shout at him that he should go back to his wife, confess that he was an adulterer and that he should be begging for her forgiveness.

But for some reason, you couldn’t let that anger escape. It refused to climb up and out of your throat. You shook your hand free of his grip. “You really want to fix it?” you hissed. “You can leave me alone. Pretend that this never happened. Take your hush gifts and give them to the person who really deserves them!”

And with that, you stormed off to your apartments.

Once you were inside the drawing room, you let out a groan of frustration. Of course, going off with the Fae Lord was definitely one way of getting revenge… but it didn’t feel like it was enough.

You still felt awful for the Orc lady, who was pregnant with that adulterers baby. There had to be something else you could do… some other way of getting back at him and really sticking it to the King’s guard.

And then, an idea came to you. It was a risk to ask, sure… but, the Fae Lord really seemed genuinely interested in you. And he did say himself that he would be open to listening to you if you had any problems. Who knows? Maybe he would be up for your revenge too.

So, that night you arranged a private dinner for the two of you, away from court to tell him what was really going on.

He was perplexed by your request to meet him in a place away from the public eye, but never the less accepted and arrived to dinner with that same pleasant smile he always gave you.

“What’s all this about?” He had asked as you finished setting the table.

You intertwined your fingers together and clasped them in front of you, as if you were about to start praying.

“… Do you remember when you told me that you could sense a sadness within me?” You asked. And over dinner, you told him everything. The secretive meetings, the presents. As you told your sombre tale, you realised how badly it all truly sounded.

Of course, the affair was awful enough on it’s own… but the fact that the Fae Lord had been unwittingly helping you in your payback, would come across as you using him.

And as you finished with the climax of your story, the Fae Lord’s fists clenched tighter around his cutlery. His jaw tightened.

You bit your lip, wanting to explain yourself. “I have to say that your asking me to dance in front of the whole court was what inspired me to continue on with this plan of revenge. I have truly enjoyed spending time with you and didn’t mean to use you my Lord…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” The Fae spat. “It’s an awful thing for him to do to you, it’s no wonder he was so against us dancing and being seen together in the first place. I had half a mind to complain to the King about his behaviour.”

He knocked the butt of his fork on the table as the Lord looked around your drawing room, like there would be some kind of explanation somewhere. “How dare he use someone like that to get his own rocks off!” The Fae Lord hissed. “And especially you. You should have told me sooner, this isn’t something that you should have to deal with alone!

“No, do you know what?” The Fae pointed at you, “don’t do anything else until I say so, alright? We’re going to get this bastard man-whore… or should it be Orc-whore?” He gave you smug smile as you laughed. “For this plan to work,” he continued, “I’ll need to ask permission from someone before I go through with it.”

You frowned. “Ask permission for what?”

The Fae Lord gave another sly grin, “It’s a surprise.” His smile faded as he reached out across the table with a free hand and took yours in his, “I’ve grown very fond of you, (Y/N) and I hope that you have of me too, so with that in mind, please trust me, okay?”

He was right, you had grown fond of him and his presence. It would be strange for him to not be around in court any more. Your heart sunk in your chest at the realisation that he wouldn’t be around for much longer.

You nodded. Lowering your head, you stared at your empty plate and sighed. “… I feel really silly for thinking that he could have actually liked me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Fae Lord asked, frowning. “I like you.”

You sighed. “I mean honestly liked me. Not just used me as a means to have an affair… I thought that we would get married one day and…” You gripped your skirts.

For a moment, the Fae stayed silent. “You don’t deserve to be loved by trash like him.” He said, firmly. He gave another squeeze of your hand. “And we’ll make sure he knows it. So don’t put yourself down, alright? It’s not you who’s in the wrong, it’s him.”

And once again, he was right. You sniffed. It made you feel a lot better to hear someone say it out loud, and to talk to someone about this affair. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest.

Weeks went by and everything continued on as it had been before. The Fae Lord acted no differently than before your dinner together and the King’s guard grew more and more furious each time he saw you and the Fae together.

He had stopped bothering you since you’d told him to leave you alone… but there was still that foreboding feeling that the Orc was still looking for ways to win back your approval, proved by his scathing looks of the Fae Lord when you and he were together.

And with that feeling hovering in the air at court, you began to realise how stupid you must have been, to believe that you were only worthy of such a deceitful kind of love. You deserved so much more, wanted so much more.

The strangest part about knowing that, was that you felt it might come true very soon. You didn’t know how you could tell, you just knew it.

You began to worry as the final days of the Fae Lord’s stay drew near. There still had been no update on the Lord’s revenge plan and when you asked him about it, he’d always reassured you and given your hands a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just making the final preparations, alright? Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got this.”

It was all too soon that the final week of his stay around. Everyone in the Palace was suddenly mournful that the Fae Lord and his company would be departing.

The Monday of the week the Lord was going to leave, you awoke to find a gift box. It was carved of wood, the bark of the tree still on it’s exterior and top, with a mossy bow tying it shut.

And as you opened it up, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight you saw. In a bed of moss, was a necklace made of spider web, droplets of water beads strewn around it delicately. Underneath it, was a note:

I would like to give you a surprise gift every day leading up to the final day before I leave. I hope that if you appreciate this gift, you’ll wear it today and the others that are to come.

Others to come? Was this part of the revenge plan that the Lord had cooked up?

Without a second thought, you put on the gift and when you entered the Queen’s apartments that morning, all the of other ladies practically screamed with excitement for you.

Even the Queen – who never normally allowed herself to be emotional – got involved with her ladies delighted chattering.

The next morning, it was a bracelet made of hardened tree sap – the note detailed that if you licked it, it would make for a good snack – the morning after that, a broach made of butterfly wings.

And every day you wore them, eventually looking more and more like a forest Fae than a human noblewoman.

When the day finally came of the Fae Lord’s departure, you found that there was no gift that morning. Although strange, it didn’t surprise you.

He was leaving today after all, perhaps he just didn’t have time to leave one final gift.

With a heavy heart, you made your bed, adorned yourself with all the gifts you had received that week, and set off to go to court to wish the Fae Lord a good journey home.

Following the Queen to the throne room, the rest of the ladies in waiting seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. When you gave them strange looks, they all pursed their lips or looked away from you, as if they were trying to hide something from you.

Even the Queen refused to look at you. Although you were sure that you caught a small smile on her lips whenever you all turned a corner.

When you entered the throne room, it was packed with courtiers, all chattering as usual. But there was something different in the air. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was certainly something going on without your knowing.

Once you had taken your place beside the Queen, the doors to the throne room opened and in stepped the Fae Lord with his company.

You had hoped that he would make time for a private goodbye, or at least tell you how his plans for revenge had been progressing.

The whole time you had seen him in court or in other places in the Palace, it seemed as though he was doing nothing to try and help you with your revenge plan.

A part of you wanted to be angry with him for being so slacked about it.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to be. At the end of the day, you’d been able to get back at the Orc in some way; throughout the whole week of you wearing the gifts that the Fae Lord had been giving you, the King’s guard said nothing to you, apart from giving you foul glares from across the room whenever he saw you.

“Your Majesty's, I must thank you for your hospitality these past weeks, it has been nothing but delightful.” The Fae Lord announced.

As soon as the sentence had left his lips, the whole court went silent, hanging onto his every word.

“But, if you do not mind, your Majesty,” he looked at the Queen, “I would like to steal one of your ladies in waiting.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him as the Queen smiled at him. “But of course, it’s been difficult to ignore that you certainly have a favourite among my girls.” She looked at you and tilted her head. “Go on, (Y/N).”

Your head darted between the two. Again, you caught the Orcs eye, who gave you a warning look of carefully concealed fury.

At that, you straightened your back and headed over to the Fae Lord. Once you had come before him, he held his hand out to you.

You took it. Sandwiching your hand between his, he looked you in the eye. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks,” he said, “but they’ve been some of the best weeks of my life. You’re funny and smart,” he lowered his voice. “Vengeful.”

Rolling your eyes with a smile, he continued, “but most of all, you make me happy. So, I ask that you come back to the forest with me and be my wife?”

Your jaw dropped and you clasped your hands to your mouth. “You… you can’t be serious…”

The Fae Lord let an abashed smile come over him. “I am… so, if you’ll have me as a husband…” He pulled a ring, made of wood from his pocket, a white, misted crystal adorned the top of the ring. “This is the final gift… I’m sorry that there wasn’t one for you to wake up to this morning, but I felt you may appreciate it more if I gave it to you in front of everyone.” He gave you a knowing look.

You allowed a devious grin to broaden your lips.

An aww escaped the crowd, followed by a few claps. But before you could give your reply, a shout rang out.

“No!” You and the Fae Lord whipped around to find the King’s guard, abandoning his post. “No, this is completely inappropriate!”

The Fae Lord pushed you behind him, as the Orc towered over the pair of you. He jabbed a thick green finger at the Fae, “what makes you think you can just wander in here and take one of the ladies in waiting?!”

“Actually,” the Fae returned, plainly. “Her father gave me permission. I asked him last night before coming here… Unlike some people here, I’m actually upfront with future family.”

Your eyes widened as the court gasped and muttering began to rise from the onlookers.

You gripped the Fae’s arm and squeezed it. “No, please don’t. You’ve done enough.”

He looked at you, then back at the Orc. “Well, it’s all down to (Y/N)s decision anyway.” The Fae Lord raised an eyebrow and smirked. “After all, it’s not like you have any interest in her, is it?”

The King’s guard scowled at the Fae. But he said nothing.

“Come back here, now!” The King snapped from his throne. “Don’t ruin this moment for the Lady (Y/N) any more than you have!”

“But you can’t possibly allow this!” The Orc turned to face the Monarchs.

“I just did.” The King glared at his guard. He looked at you with kind eyes as he went on, “well, what is your answer?”

Looking directly at the Orc, you took the ring from the Fae Lord and slid the ring on your finger as slowly as possible.

The Fae Lord grinned and pulled you into a tight hug as the court let out an applause.

Wishing the court goodbye, you and the Fae Lord turned and left, without even giving a second glance to the Orc, who was left in the centre of the room, stunned.

“Now this, was a great revenge plan.” You whispered as the pair of you walked down the corridors.

You bit your lip, “I… I was worried that this was just going to be some kind of holiday fling for you.”

The Fae Lord stopped in his tracks, taking your hand. “My darling, I could never, do that to you.”

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled on my lowest tier so you can see if you like my work written there!

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[leighsartworks216]

It's Nothing

Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Inspired by my late as fuck period and joking with my friend that I was the next virgin mary. Not proofread cuz I want to post it but I'm tired of looking at it

Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing

Word Count: 1,450

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sweetie? What has you so distracted lately?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just, uh- thinking about work, that's all!"

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's-" You falter, searching desperately for an excuse and coming up woefully empty "It's really nothing, Sy. I'll tell you at some point, just..."

"... Just not right now." He sighs, but nods, dismissing the subject. A frown lingers on his face as he turns back to the movie. "I trust you, sweetie," he says after a long pause, when it seemed the topic had been dropped completely.

The guilt sinks down into your stomach, but you bite your tongue and cuddle further into his side. The rest of the night remains tense.

You want to tell him. Admit what's on your mind. Finally release this stress from your body. But you can't! Because... what if he leaves you? And maybe you're just being paranoid for nothing - but you can't take that risk, not with Sylus, of all people.

Your period is over a week late. That's not terribly unusual, but it is suspicious given the fact you've stopped using protection in the bedroom. Well, not necessarily stopped, since you're on birth control, but things get heated and he's finished inside of you without a condom. So... what if your birth control didn't do its job 100%? You know there’s a small percentage of it failing, so what if this time is the time it chooses to be ineffective?

Dr. Zayne is the only person you've told about your fears, when you went in for a checkup and nervously asked if he could run a pregnancy test for you. You're not sure if being your childhood friend made the next line of questioning about your sex life more or less awkward. You do know that that test came back negative... But Zayne said after the fact that it could be too early to tell.

So all you can really do now is wait until you do or don't get your period again.

You know it bothers Sylus a lot, your secrecy. You two have both progressed so far in learning how to trust each other, even with the stupid things. This just... doesn't feel like one of those stupid things. You've only just put a name to the relationship, you don't want to ruin that now when things are so new and nice.

So you hold it in. You try your damndest to put it on the back burner and show him as best you can that everything is fine and that you still love and trust him.

You wake up with your body's internal clock. With the N109 Zone being so dark, knowing when day is is a bit tricky. But, Sylus is asleep beside you, laying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He doesn't have a shirt on. A wide expanse of tan skin and rippling muscle is left exposed as the blankets all pool around his hips.

You smile to yourself, albeit a bit mournfully. You're glad he's still sleeping beside you, even if you've both been a bit rocky lately. It's all your fault - you know. You'll make it up to him somehow. You have to.

Slowly, as quietly as you can, you slip out of bed and creep to the bathroom...

"Sy!" You see him startle out of sleep, hand already wrapped around the gun under his pillow as he sits up, searching for the danger.

"What is it?" he asks sharply. You run and jump onto the bed, landing partially on top of him. He tosses the gun onto his nightstand and lifts you by the waist to reposition you into his lap as he sits up properly. "What's got you so excited?"

"I'm not pregnant!"

He blinks up at you with a frown. You grab his shoulders like an excited kid, looking at him expectantly. He feels like he’s skipped several chapters into a book and the plot twist reveal isn’t making any sense. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

You're practically vibrating in his lap with energy. It's the most light he's seen in your eyes for the last week and a half. It's... relieving. "I'm not pregnant! We haven't been as careful with protection lately and then my period was supposed to come, but it didn't, so I had a pregnancy test done, but Zayne said it could be too early to tell when it came back negative, so I've been waiting and waiting to know if I really am and-! And I'm not! I'm bleeding again, Sylus! I'm not pregnant!"

He shakes his head, brow pinched with a pained expression. "That's the 'nothing' you've been distracted by all week?"

"Um..." You grin sheepishly. "Yeah?"

He takes a moment, eyes closed and lips drawn into a frown. That guilt that settled in your stomach during your movie night returns, doubled in intensity. You got over-worried and kept secrets from your boyfriend, when you could have just told him from the start how weird it was that your period is late and how worried you are about what it could mean.

"Sy...?"

"Mmm."

"Are you mad at me?"

He finally opens his eyes. The expression eases slightly as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Have the cramps hit yet?"

You shake your head. "Um, no?"

Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around you and your world tilts on its axis. A heavy weight settles above you. Sylus's nose presses against your neck. "Good. Let's stay here for when they do."

You try to wriggle loose. He tightens his hold around you and nips at your skin sharply. You jolt, but it stops your struggling. “Why do we have to stay here for my cramps?”

“Because, sweetie,” he sighs. You’d think he’s annoyed, if it weren’t for the way he runs his nose along the column of your throat and eases his weight fully onto your body. “When your cramps start, you’re going to want a heating pad and a massage. And since you hate my massages-“

“I do not!”

“-it’s better if I just lay here and provide all the heat you desire.”

His logic isn’t faulty… And, honestly, having him so close to you again, without the barrier you built between you both, is really, really nice. So, you relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and begin playing with his hair. He lets out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

“So… you’re not mad at me?” you ask again.

“No, I’m not mad. I was… worried. Suddenly you were pulling away from me with no explanation and no warning. I thought…” You gently pull on his hair to remove his face from your neck. He follows with no resistance, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you with such serious eyes, tinged with sleepiness and lingering concern. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”

You frown at the admission. For over a week, he thought you were pulling away because you didn’t trust him… “I guess I didn’t help any, keeping my worries a secret…” He doesn’t agree, but you see a slight quirk in his brow. “I’m sorry, Sy. I didn’t… I just… This is so new. I was worried that if I was pregnant, you’d be upset or leave me or something.”

He scoffs. “I’m not so easily scared off, kitten.”

“And I know that now.” You lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut, furrow in his brow relaxing. When you pull away, they open to look at you once again. “I promise, from now on, I won’t keep secrets like that from you anymore. You’ll be the first to know if I’m worried about anything.”

He grins slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I promise to be just as honest with you.”

He lifts himself up just enough to capture your lips. Your mouths move together in a languid dance, sealing the deal you two have just made. It lasts several minutes. Neither of you really ever want it to end, but Sylus needs his sleep and you’re going to need all his love and care when your uterus decides to rain hellfire on you to make up for lost time. He pulls away slowly, trails light kisses down your jaw, and tucks himself back into your neck.

Everything feels so much more secure now. Despite all your fears, the relationship has grown stronger. And you know, you’re both going to be okay.

-

Bonus:

“Is the thought of having my kids that terrible?”

“You know that’s not why I was worried, you asshole.”

---

Tag List:

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[ozzgin]

OZZGIN!

May I request an idea/imagine?

It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!

Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3

Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)

I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!

Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader

Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.

Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct

You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.

The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.

What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.

“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”

Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.

He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.

[appocalipse]

see for yourself ⋆ sirius black

summary: after a party, you tell sirius how you ended things with the guy you've been seeing because he was a bit jealous of your friendship with him. sirius shows you that maybe he was right to be.

"You're in a good mood."

Sirius looks at you from his place on the floor and grins, wild and boyish. It makes your stomach do flips that you'd rather not think about too much, lest it leads to things you really shouldn't be thinking about.

"Must be your charming company," he says before looking back up at the ceiling, fingers laced behind his head.

He's laying spreadeagle on the hardwood floor, staring up at the slowly rotating fan and taking occasional swigs from an open bottle of Firewhisky beside him. Everyone but Remus, with whom Sirius shares the flat, had already gone home hours ago, leaving only you and Sirius behind in the living room.

You roll your eyes even though he can't see you doing it, setting your empty cup on the coffee table. You lean back against the sofa and fold one leg up under the other so you can turn to face him fully. "Remind me again why you're not sitting on furniture like a normal person?"

"It's more fun down here." He turns his head enough for you to catch his wolfish grin. "Care to join me?"

"Oh no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I should be getting home anyway. It's late."

Sirius frowns and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The look in his gray eyes is equal parts amusement and disappointment. "On a Friday night? Come on, love, we're barely tipsy. Besides, you still haven't told me what happened between you and that wanker you were seeing."

"There's nothing to tell," you shrug.

He scoffs as he crawls across the floor towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek when Sirius hoists himself onto the sofa beside you and pulls one leg up to his chest. There's a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that doesn't seem quite as innocent as you'd like it to be.

"He looked pretty pissed off when he left," he says, twirling a long strand of your hair around his index finger. "What'd you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything. And we were together for barely three weeks. I was just...he wasn't the right guy, okay? Now shush."

You make a halfhearted attempt to turn away from him, but Sirius laughs softly and rests his head on your shoulder. "You don't say."

"Sirius."

"What? I'm glad you didn't waste any more time on that tosser. He would never have made you happy."

"How would you know?"

Sirius lifts his head and leans back far enough to look at you. His expression is one of smug self-confidence as he says, "Because I know everything."

"Everything, huh?"

"Everything."

You quirk an eyebrow. "Well then, what am I thinking right now?"

His eyes flick down to your lips for a brief moment before they find yours again, but it's enough for heat to rise in your cheeks. You could swear he starts to move closer before he blinks and turns away with a dry laugh, but by then you're not so sure anymore. "That you're bored of talking about this dolt."

The ache of disappointment in your chest must be almost palpable, because Sirius furrows his brow and asks, "Is everything alright?"

"Yup."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

Sirius gives you a knowing look and shifts on the sofa to face you more fully. His knee knocks against yours. "Don't tell me you're hung up over that berk."

"Not in the slightest."

"Liar."

"I'm not," you insist. "Really."

"Did he break your heart or something? I'll break his arm."

You laugh, though you doubt Sirius is actually joking. "Nothing happened. He was just jealous. That's all."

He frowns, then narrows his eyes at you. "Jealous of who?"

"Oh, you know, the usual suspects," you say lightly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic completely. But when Sirius remains silent, you let out a slow breath and (as you usually do when it comes to him) give in. "You, mostly. He said some stuff, and I didn't take too kindly to it."

A wry smile spreads across Sirius' face. He looks delighted. "What'd he say about me?"

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely."

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you rest your head back against the cushion behind you and say, "He thinks you, uh...you know, fancy me or something. That we spend too much time together. But I told him that he's crazy, obviously."

"Obviously."

The following silence bothers you.

You turn your head enough to see Sirius' face. He's staring back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then, after several moments of more tense silence, he whispers, "What if I do fancy you?"

"Sure you do," you mutter, rolling your eyes again.

Sirius places his palm on top of the hand resting between the two of you and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. "I could show you."

It takes a moment for you to register the offer.

"Did you drink more than I realized?"

"Just enough for the liquid courage to work."

Your tongue feels like sandpaper. "Sirius."

"Mmhm."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"Who says I'm being ridiculous?" he asks, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your skin. "Maybe I'm madly in love with you. Have you considered that?"

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your stomach is doing somersaults. "This isn't funny, Padfoot."

"It's not supposed to be funny."

"But—"

He cuts you off by cupping your cheek and leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your lips. It smells of Firewhisky and mint. "Kiss me and see for yourself."

"You must be drunk."

"Only tipsy," he reminds you. "Or maybe a little drunk on you."

"You know, you're not half as funny as—mmph!"

He's kissing you. Sirius is kissing you, and dear sweet Merlin, you could swear that the world's tilting beneath you as his hands pull you closer. He hums contentedly when he feels you reciprocating, cradling your face between his palms as if to make sure that you won't go anywhere.

Not that you intend to.

It's the kind of kiss that steals your breath away. The kind of kiss you can lose yourself in without even realizing it, especially when one of his hands slides into your hair, and you moan involuntarily into his mouth.

Sirius laughs breathlessly against your lips as he eases you down onto your back. His fingers dance along your jawline before he curls them under your chin, tilting your head back and kissing his way down your throat.

"I think this went better than expected," he murmurs, pausing long enough to gently bite down on the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You gasp.

Sirius sits up suddenly. His hair hangs in front of his face like a dark curtain and his eyes glitter with amusement when he pushes it back. Your pulse jumps when you see the slight redness of his lips and the hint of mischief on his face. "Don't tell me you're getting shy now."

"Shut up."

He leans down and kisses you again, groaning low in his throat as your hands slide up the broad expanse of his back. "I'm starting to think you fancy me, too," he whispers, words ghosting over your mouth.

"Yeah," you admit sheepishly, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders. "I may have been lying earlier. It's not that crazy."

"May have?"

"Fine, I did lie."

"I knew it."

He looks far too smug. Just this once, you don't really mind.

[lure-of-writing]

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

[valardohaeriss]

Picture you (1) - C.S

Hello! As promised, I am starting this modern au.

Yes all of my works are named after songs.

warnings: none?

Pairing: Modern au! Cregan Stark x Reader

enjoy!!!!

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It wasn't that Cregan wasn't smart, it's that this class was hard. Unfortunately, he needed to pass this class to be deemed a senior. He was ready to be out of university, he's been here for far too long. You can only study environmental science for too long. What else was there for him to learn? He was at the point where everything was starting to feel repetitive.

Cregan found his seat somewhere towards the back, the man was tall. If he even tried to sit in the front, nobody would be able to see over his stature. Students started shuffling through and Cregan paid no attention until his thoughts were interrupted by a question. "Is anyone sitting here?" you asked grabbing the chair.

He looked up and shook his head. "no, it's all yours." You took the seat and grabbed everything you needed. Pens, notebooks, ETC.... Cregan felt so underprepared next to you. He had nothing but his usual pencil and composition notebook. It got him through four years already, it never failed him. He was on the simpler side of studying and school work, but compared to you, he had nothing.

"Do you always bring this much to class? How does this work for you?" he asked you. You shrugged. You didn't know why you needed so much, but it made you feel completed and organized. "I think it makes me feel organized. But truth be told, I probably don't need it. I think it's just the structure that feels good about it." you rambled on. You realized you were rambling and quickly trailed off into silence.

He was honestly taking a mental note. Anything to help him stay organized would probably help him. "So what do you study?" He asked. You didn't know why he was holding such conversation with you, but you weren't complaining. He seemed nice. You told him your major and that you too were due to graduate soon.

Class went on and your professor was very monotone. You peeked out of the corner of your eye to see Cregan starting to zone out. You nudged him with your elbow and pointed to the professor with your pen. "Sorry." he whispered. He then realized, he was lost in the lecture. What were you guys even discussing? It was too late though, class was being dismissed.

You started to pack your things and threw your bag over your shoulder. "Hey, I hate to ask you this, but you wouldn't mind like refreshing me on what we talked about today? You can't help but to fall asleep at the sound of his voice." He didn't know where you were walking, he just followed. "Yeah that's fine, I mean how do you want the notes? Email, text, shared?" you offered all of the options.

You saw his eyebrows furrow and he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I was actually wondering if you could like verbally tell me what we spoke about and I can then write the notes? I'm just an auditory learner." he explained. An auditory learner who fell asleep at the sound of the professor's voice. What an interesting conundrum, however you agreed.

"What's a good time for you? and where?" you ask. "Tonight? just so I can keep it fresh on the brain? I don't want to fall too far behind. And either my place or yours, wherever is comfortable for you?" He suggested. It sounded like an okay plan, except for one thing...you didn't know each other's names.

You reached your hand out to shake his and smiled "I realized that we didn't know each others names. Before I invited you to my home, I figured we should know who each other is. I'm y/n." you introduced yourself. He smiled and shook your hand in return. "Cregan, right, so, here's my contact information just in case things change. But just let me know. I'll see you later, yeah?" He reassured himself after introductions. You confirmed and went about your way for the day.

-------

7:30 rolled around and you heard a knock at your door. You wore some casual clothes, not really caring what you looked like in the comfort of your own home. You opened the door to find Cregan at the door with his backpack and some food. "I hope you like curry." he says as you let him in. He had his hair pulled back all the way, save a couple of strands in the front. You hadn't seen all of his face like this, he may have been a stranger, but you weren't complaining.

"are you a eat on the couch person or at the table person?" he asks aimlessly holding food and books in his hands. "The couch is fine. Mi casa es tu casa." he furrowed his brows and then it hit him. You wondered what his grade was in Spanish... or if he took another language. You grabbed some utensils and plates for the food and your phone. "So where shall we begin?" you ask prompting the studies, but you couldn't even get an answer by how much Cregan stuffed his face.

You stifled a giggle and watched the tv and ate as Cregan did. Obviously finishing much faster than you, he washed his face and hands and returned back to the couch. "Sorry, I was starved." He said and subconsciously rubbed his belly. You shrugged it off and set the rest of your food to the side. "You're fine, eat, your brain needs it. Actually it's good you brought food, certain foods are brain food."

"Is curry brain food?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged not knowing, but you did let him know that peppermint and salmon was a great option too.

Hours went by and you actually got to see how smart he actually was. He was engaged in the studying, questioning every other topic almost. Organizing his notes like you showed him. He didn't really need you, he just needed organization. He started to pack up his things and you went to your room for a second. Coming back with a notebook separated by sections, you handed it to him. "it's good to have things separated by subject. You'll need this."

He smiled taking it from you and putting it into his own bag. "Hey, thanks for tonight. I really needed it. I'll see you in class." He said before leaving. It felt good to help someone, something told you you'd be seeing him more often.

----

Weeks went by, you always sat in your normal seat next to Cregan, also to make sure that he was paying attention as well. In class, your phone kept vibrating, text after text came through. Cregan couldn't help but avert his attention to the text on your phone "who are you taking to formal?" he smirked and looked at you from the side of his eyes. "Who are you taking to formal?" he asks as your class dismissed?

"hmm? oh nobody, I'm probably not even going to go. Baela keeps asking me because Jace is going. You guys are friends too, right?" it was true, he and Jace had known each other and we're pretty close. "Yeah, but he and Baela are going. So, who's the guy you're going with?" he asks.

lie, just lie

You didn't want to tell him that you had grown feelings for him over these weeks. You didn't want to tell him that it was him that you wished would ask you. So you wouldn't.

"He doesn't feel the same way, so, it's fine. I'll just stay home." Cregan halted you. "no way, you feel this way about him...then we're gonna help him see you at this formal. I'll be your wingman." he offered with a proud smile.

What mess did you just get yourself into?

[fishermanshook]

ASK: Hi! I'm relatively new on here and wanted to ask for a gn reader x Naib and Ganji (separately) comforting the reader after seeing them with eye bags from excessive crying and absolutely dead inside look. My apologies if it's too much, saw that the requests are open and decided to shoot my shot🙏🏻 Thank you very much either way!

WIPE YOUR TEARS, DOLL.

( mercenary & batter ) + gn!reader

˚୨🌌୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ reader has a “dead” look + feels undeserving of love , implied that reader may be a bit depressed , l/n = last name , probably a tad bit ooc , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

You can’t remember the last time you’ve cried so much that it could fill this entire manor and there still wouldn’t be enough room.

You’d blame it on the recent… position you’ve found yourself in, but can’t recall if it’s because of where you’re stuck or if you’ve just been like this ever since.

꒰wc꒱ 1.1k

✦— THE MERCENARY ; NAIB SUBEDAR

Naib is initially suspicious, taking note of the (more or so) deceased-looking appearance you’ve been wearing recently, alongside the ever-growing eye bags that only continue to darken as the nights go on. It’s a strange sight indeed, but one he quickly dismisses as a “lack of sleep” type thing.

↳ it doesn’t help that you fall right into the trope as well. Naib watches as you stumble and trip over your feet during games, zone out during pre-match, and just so happens to find your sleeping form anywhere he looks. He lets out a sigh, (gently) picks up your limp body, and brings you back to his humble abode. The Mercenary is so preoccupied with getting you back to his room that he fails to notice your light sniffling and the dried tears near the corners of your eyes.

Okay, this has been going on for far too long now and isn’t something that he can let slide by anymore. So that’s how it started, hand in hand, cause he knew that something was amidst. Truthfully, maybe being blunt wasn’t the exact way to go, but he needed to coax you out somehow. What he didn’t expect (which you can’t exactly blame him for) was for you to break out into tears the moment you tried to speak about it.

↳ he has to admit, you completely caught him off guard the moment you threw yourself into his arms, tears staining his green jacket. He takes a second to adjust, but the moment he does, he’s raking his fingers through your hair and rocking the two of you back and forth. [just the way his mother used to when he would wake up from nightmares.]

When you eventually calm down, his hands find solace on your shoulders, pleading for you to enlighten him on just how the hell you’ve been feeling lately. He takes a thumb to your face to wipe away the stray tears while you clean the snot from your nose. He won’t tell you, but he’s slightly hurt that you never came to talk to him about this, especially as he sees that it’s affecting you badly.

You cave in his hands as you explain to him that your nights are only filled with staining your pillows with your tears. The little sleep you get comes from your tiredness knocking you out. It’s devastating to hear your pain and suffering, and all Naib can do is listen and hold your hand.

The Mercenary can only sigh before bringing you in for a hug once more, placing soft, gentle kisses on the top of your head. He doesn’t want to cry in front of you, but you feel a few cold droplets of water hit your shoulder. His first words are an incoherent mess before you can finally make out something.

“[name] [l/n], I am your lover. You are my everything. Please, the next time you feel this way know that you are more than capable of coming to me for help.”

↳ He loves you so much that seeing you in this mental state puts him in pain as well. You’re the first to break down his walls in ages, the last one being his friends from the war. The Mercenary can’t risk losing you too.

From that moment forward, you find yourself coming to Naib’s dorm room more often than not, accompanied by your teary eyes and sleep-deprived body. He holds you close as he gently massages the top of your head, making sure you fall asleep first.

Slowly but surely, he watches as your old self emerges all over again. The dark bags under your eyes dissipate while your energy returns to your once-withered body. The Mercenary keeps a close eye on you from there on out, making sure that you never fall down that rabbit hole again. But, if you were to spiral out once more, know that Naib will do everything in his power to break you free.

✦— THE BATTER ; GANJI GUPTA

Ganji holds a slight bit of overprotectiveness towards you, especially when the two of you make it official. That’s why he beats himself over the fact that he didn’t put more thought into just why you might have those dark circles hidden underneath your eyes.

               ↳ Your eyes are constantly watery. Your nose, almost nonstop running. You look as if you're about to sob out a tsunami at this rate. You say it’s just your allergies. The pollen outside plus Victor's dog make for a deadly concoction against your senses. At first, his brain reasons with himself, stating that it's a valid reason. But he’s been with you for so long that his heart argues against itself and before you know it, he catches you red-handed.

Your dorm room door is unlocked, a bad habit of yours that Ganji may or may not have scolded you over before. Something about safety and privacy and blah blah blah. The door will be your downfall, but one that will reveal a much-needed truth.

↳ He finds your face stuffed into your pillow, tear stains decorating your cheeks with a light pink hue. You’ve tired yourself and fell asleep ages ago, sleep you so desperately needed. The Batter decides to make room for himself on the bed as well, resting your head on his lap. That way, the two of you can talk this out when you wake up.

You wake up in his lap, unaware of the truth he’s just uncovered. As the Batter rubs his thumb over your stained cheeks, you instantly realize that, oh, he knows now. You can’t stop the small tears that start to flow once again, but Ganji is quick to help wipe them away, planting a small kiss on your cheek.

“Love, you need to reach out for help when this kind of stuff happens, especially if it only continues. Please, don’t feel as if you’d only be a burden. Anyone who feels or thinks that can go kick it.”

There are nights when the loneliness of your bed becomes too much too bare, and you make the trek to seek out comfort from your already asleep boyfriend. Little do you know, he’s already awake and ready for you with a cup of sleepy tea. [Thank you, Emily.] The two of you fall asleep together, hand in hand.

Your next matches are wins as he watches the spark return to your eyes once more. Still, he keeps a few packets of that tea near his nightstand. That way, if you ever needed to fall back asleep, all it would take is one tea bag.

note: BYE this got rushed a bit in Ganji’s part I’m so sorry, I wanted to do him justice but my ass needed to pass tr out RN…anyways enjoy fishies 🫵😚

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | sixteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, physical fighting, mingi calling his friend out on his stupidity, crying, sorry if i missed anything.. quickly edited this lol, yunho is just mad and overwhelmed with his feelings rn 😭

yunho: baby

yunho: wait at the science building later, please? i'll come get you so we can walk to my car together

you: okee ☺️

yunho: ☺️ see you later? enjoy the rest of your classes

you: you too, my bighead!

Yunho smiles at his phone before tucking it away, slowly following Yeosang to their group study session.

"Should I even ask why you're smiling like that?" Yunho looks up at Yeosang and chuckles.

"Just Y/N."

"Of course. Is she in class?"

"Yup. She's in the back row being all distracted."

"Perfect way to pass time in my honest opinion." Yeo clears his throat. "I've been meaning to ask you out of curiosity."

"What's up?"

"Have you guys told each other 'I love you' and everything?" 

"Mm, no. Not yet at least."

"Not yet?" Yeosang smiles. "You feel that way for her, don't you?"

"I do. I just.. I don't know? I don't know if it's too soon. What if I scare her off?"

"Nah, doubt that. You can't put a timer on these things."

"True. Plus, it sounds cliché and like it's out of a movie, but I truly wanna wait 'till it feels right to say it to her."

"That makes sense."

"Trust me, I really do feel that way for her." He lets out a breath as they look towards the library building, the sun from behind slightly blinding them as they approach the doors. "She has literally become my bestfriend. It's crazy how life works."

"I know. I remember when you first told me you were helping her out for literature." Yeosang chuckles. "Or when you'd save her in the back lot."

"Still can't believe that was even real." Yunho does a tiny head tilt. "He's really something."

"What was up with Y/N's birthday thing? How did he even know?"

"I don't know. Word gets around fast. Why wouldn't Seonghwa know? Especially since it has to do with Y/N."

"Can't wait till the day he leaves you two alone. Must be fucking annoying to deal with."

"I try not to mind it. Though, I think he's been getting bolder lately and I can't put my finger on it."

"Has Y/N said anything?" He shakes his head.

"No. Maybe I'm just overthinking. She just seemed a little weird about him at her birthday party."

"Well, yeah. It's Seonghwa." Yeosang waves at their study group sitting at the far end of the library in the loud section.

"Yeah, but, I don't know. It was different. She seemed bothered about something but she hasn't told me anything. I assume it's not a big deal."

"Hm. Well, I'm sure it's not either. Just Seonghwa being himself, maybe."

"Mm, whatever though." Yunho greets the study group as they approach the table. "She's my girlfriend now, and that won't change." Yeosang gives him a small smile before they settle with the group and begin their long study session together.

"Remember, we have a test next class. Make sure you study everything I included in the study guide. Don't skip on anything just because you think it's a minor detail! Nothing is minor!" Your professor says before dismissing the class. You let out a sigh, already stressing over the next test. You didn't do bad on the first test, but you also didn't do the greatest. Thankfully, you're still at a good point in the semester, which gives you enough time to pull your grade up.

Once the initial rush of people leaving the classroom dies down, you pack up your things and head out the door. You hurry out of the classroom and down the steps, excited to see your boyfriend after yet another long day. For a split second, the building is crowded with other students leaving their classes and heading to their next destination— whether it be the next class, the library or to their cars. It's a sudden swarm of people that you don't even realize Seonghwa had stepped out of his own class, following you down the corridor.

"Y/N." You hear Seonghwa's voice behind you. You try to mind your own business, subtly rolling your eyes as you walk out of the science building to reunite with Yunho. 

Except, he isn't exactly there yet and Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N." He repeats, turning you to face him.

"What are you doing?" You question him.

"Just a second." You let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you ignoring me. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls—"

"Why do I need to?" You raise a brow. "You're not actually serious, right? I have no reason to respond to you, Seonghwa. Don't you have places to be, people to see?" You pause. "Don't you realize you're a little too late? This was something I needed from you way before. I don't need it from you now."

"I know it's late, but I don't wanna give up on this."

"This? This has been done for a long time, you and I both know that. You're only worried about losing the only safety blanket you've ever had. Why can't you just move on and let me be happy?"

"Happy?" Seonghwa almost scoffs. "With him? Okay, baby." He shakes his head. "Listen. Enough of this for real. Can you please just hear me out, I'll explain and apologize properly—"

"Seonghwa, stop calling me that. What don't you understand about no?" You say almost at a whine, his hand still having a grip on the edge of your wrist. You truly don't want to entertain this, but Seonghwa almost gives you no way out, no way around his bullshit, and unfortunately, that'll be the root of everything that unfolds tonight. Yunho is happily [and eagerly] making his way down to you after the long, heavy study group session, while Yeosang decides he's gonna stay behind in order to hit the gym and get his workout in. Yunho is a few minutes late, but he knows you'll still flash him that beautiful, million-watt smile he adores so much before wrapping your arms around him.

He can't wait.

But, Yunho slows in his steps just as he's close to the front doors; familiar voices filling the surprisingly empty, quiet space.  It's you, and he already feels himself boiling with anger when he hears who else is occupying your time right now.

"Why haven't you even said anything about the flowers and the card I gave you? Did you even get them?" Yunho overhears Seonghwa ask you, and he furrows his brows. What flowers and card? You don't answer right away, and Seonghwa is quick to follow up. Yunho doesn't even get to hear your response about it and the most upsetting part of all this— is that this is how he finds out about everything.

Not from you, but from Seonghwa.

"You couldn't even send me a text? I was worried you didn't get it. I wanted to talk to you afterwards."

"What is there to talk about?"

"Yeah, what is there to talk about?" You and Seonghwa turn towards Yunho, who stands there with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His jaw is slightly clenched, head titled to the side while he waits for a response. Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle, hand slipping down your wrist as he fully faces him.

"Loverboy sounds upset over a little talk."

"A little talk? Is that an add-on for the flowers and card you sent her?" Yunho sounds more stern, more angry. You can't even blame him, but at the same time, it's unusual for you to hear him this way. You're not sure what could come out of this and you don't necessarily want to find out.

"I'm sorry, should I have sent you some, too?" Seonghwa steps closer to him and the panic starts to settle in for you. You wish someone, anyone, was around to help. Because although you don't think Yunho will let this blow out of proportion, you aren't 100% about your answer. You're not sure how Yunho manages his anger in these situations and you're not sure what triggers him; what tips him over the edge and is the 'cherry on top.' Seonghwa has always rubbed him the wrong way and you don't think this could end remotely pretty. "I'll take note of that for next time so you don't have to sit there and stare at Y/N's."

How you wish Seonghwa had just gotten the point. Why couldn't he just let you be? Why was he out to ruin your happiness so badly?

"Seonghwa. This is done. Let it go." You warn him, but it doesn't clear anything. You aren't getting through to any of them.

"Back up. I'm not asking." Yunho clenches his jaw as he comes face to face with Seonghwa, making him give off a small scoff.

"Aw. Loverboy's mad—" And that's exactly the tipping point for Yunho. He's not sure why, he usually has a lot of patience. He usually brushes things off easily, doesn't hold a grudge or stay angry for long. But, Seonghwa? He was a different story, especially because of the history you have with him. Every little thing about Seonghwa pisses him off— down to the way he moves, breathes, acts like he can always get his way so easily, so quickly. Before he can even think about the consequences, or how you'd feel, Yunho swings at him, making Seonghwa stumble backwards. 

"Yunho!—" You gasp, Yunho's initial punch is pretty rough that it had Seonghwa in shock before being able to register what just happened.

"Fuck you—" Is all Seonghwa spits out before going at Yunho. The two continue to go at it, pushing and gripping at each other's shirts, rough attempts at landing punches;

They're almost successful with tearing each other's heads off until you step in between and get involved.

"Stop!" You step in between to try and prevent the fight from escalating even more. "Stop it!" You push Seonghwa back when he tries coming for Yunho, a campus security guard dashing towards all of you to completely break up the scuffle.

"Knock it off! The hell are you two doing acting like this on campus? I suggest you two part ways now before we call the cops over!"

"Yo, what the fuck?!" Mingi comes from around the corner, grabbing at Seonghwa's arm to pull him back. "The fuck are you doing, dude?" He looks at his bestfriend in disbelief.

"Why don't you ask your friend who fucking started it—"

"Me?" Yunho spits, while Seonghwa wipes the blood at the corner of his lip. "I wouldn't have had to if you just knew how to back the fuck off!" Yunho is angry, continuing to raise his voice. "Let me catch you sending shit to my girlfriend one more time and see what the fuck I'll do—" 

"Yunho." You say softly, tugging back at his arm.

"Are you serious?" Mingi looks at Seonghwa. "You don't go messing around with people's relationships, Hwa. You need to let this go, you look crazy!" 

"Oh, so all of a sudden you're sticking up for your friend?"

"Yeah, because he is my friend and it's just shit you don't do! What the fuck don't you understand about that?! You fucking deserved that shit!" Mingi shakes his head before pushing Hwa forward, pulling him off to the side to continue talking to him. 

"Babe." You turn to Yunho after Mingi and Seonghwa create good distance, hand coming up to cup Yunho's cheek. But, he turns, slightly shaking his head at you. You pull your hand back and feel your heart drop, the look in Yunho's eyes being one that you've never experienced before.

Sadness, hurt, anger. 

Mostly sadness, hurt.

"What flowers was he talking about, Y/N?" His chest is still rising at a somewhat uneven pace, doing his best to calm down after the adrenaline rush.

"H-he left them at my doorstep after we came back from the snow. I'm really sorry, Yunho, I didn't tell you because I tossed it out and—"

"But still, it's the fact that you didn't tell me after all this time." Yunho's brows are tightly knitted together, and the look causes your heart to sink even deeper. "Why did you have to let me find out this way? Were you going to tell me about this too if I hadn't come right away?"

"I just didn't get around to telling you because I didn't think it would matter— Seonghwa doesn't matter."

"If he didn't, then wouldn't you be able to tell me without questioning it so much?"

"Yunho, no. I'm sorry, no." You repeat, tears pricking your eye lids. "I didn't mean for it to seem like that. I really didn't mean to hide this from you."

"Did you think about keeping them?"

"I—I, no. I thought—" Yunho hears you stuttering and his throat suddenly feels dry. Why can't you just tell him? Even if Seonghwa didn't matter to you, why couldn't you trust him enough to tell him? 

Why couldn't you feel comfortable enough to tell him?

"Be honest with me, Y/N. That's all I've ever asked. Did you or did you not think about it keeping it?" Silence. And god, it is the most gut-wrenching silence Yunho has ever endured.

Yup. Got it. 

The answer is clear.

You did think about Seonghwa. You thought about accepting the flowers as his apology, you thought about the possibility— even if it was for a brief, splitting second. Seonghwa did matter for one fucking second, and that's what bothers him.

"Yunho, please. I just thought—" You can barely get through your sentences.

"Did you, or did you not?"

"I thought about keeping it, but it was so stupid. I was just blinded for a second, and I realized it didn't matter to me. He doesn't matter to me. At all. I promise. Everything just caught me off guard." You try to grab for his hand but he steps back. "Yunho, it was all stupid. I tossed it out so quickly. I wasn't going to do anything, I wasn't going to text, nothing."

"But, why does it feel like after everything he's put you through, you still believe he'd genuinely change? Why does it feel like a part of you is still actually holding onto that?" Well, when Yunho says it to your face like that, you feel dumb. Not once did you ever think about running back to Seonghwa and leaving this behind. But, you were blinded in that quick second from your history with Hwa, being close and sharing moments for months. Asking Seonghwa for little gestures like this, for more attention; even though it was a ride, you still had history.

And yes, maybe at one point you wanted to be the girl that changed him.

But today, you can't even imagine going back to that point. Not after being with Yunho, not after the happiness he's brought you.

Not after you realize how much you genuinely and truly love Yunho. 

You don't wanna lose him.

This is all so stupid, and a huge misunderstanding. But, you're the only person to blame here— if you hadn't given Seonghwa the time of day, if you had just told Yunho right away without second-guessing it, if you hadn't hesitated; you wouldn't be here right now.

"I'm not!" Your tone raises and it sounds like a whine at this point. "I'm not, Yunho. Please."

"Look, tonight was a lot." He sighs, running his hand through his hair before wincing and looking down at his knuckles. "I was excited to see you after a long day, Y/N. I was really looking forward to being with you. I wasn't expecting all of this and honestly, I don't know what's worse? Stumbling upon all of this the way I did, or not knowing at all."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and fucked up of me, and I'm sorry." You repeat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Maybe you just need to think about what you really want." Yunho shrugs. "I thought you were over the whole thing with Seonghwa, but clearly not if you're still considering on giving him the time of day."

"No, no, Yunho. Please don't. It's not that." You try to lace your hand with his, but he gently brushes it off with a shaky sigh. He doesn't wanna leave you. He never wants to be without you. But, tonight was a lot for him to handle, and it is overwhelming. He hasn't really felt this protective over someone. Of course, it's only natural since you're his girlfriend. He'll always protect you. It's just that Seonghwa brings something out of him that he doesn't necessarily like, and he wants it to be gone for good. It feels unhealthy and icky;

The anger, the frustration, the anxiety.

He hates it. And he doesn't want this to be a thing in your relationship. Plus, he still feels himself fuming with anger and he just can't possibly talk to you while he feels that way.

So yes, he's overwhelmed and he needs to get over this.

"No, seriously. You really should think about it. I know where I stand but I'm not so sure you do." He lets out another disappointed sigh. "I'll take you home, but we should probably just be in our own places tonight."

"Okay." You say close to a whisper, sniffling as you wipe away at your face. You don't even try to fight it anymore simply because you know Yunho needs his space right now. He begins to walk off with you slowly trailing behind, head hung low after everything that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast you're also having to process it all on this walk over to the lot. Suddenly, you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps picking up behind you, followed by a familiar, deep voice.

"Yo, wait up!" Mingi says. "You good? I'm sorry about him, he's actually losing it."

"You're sorry? Mingi, when the fuck is your friend gonna grow up so that you're not apologizing on his behalf?" Mingi lets out a breath as his eyes dart from you, back to Yunho's. "Seriously. I don't mean to throw that your way, but it's not even just about tonight. Your friend knows no boundaries and that's crazy to me."

"I know, he's got things to sort through but that's his own problem now. I already told him multiple times. Me and San did." Mingi shakes his head.

"Doesn't take much to grow the fuck up and take ownership of your own fuck-ups once in awhile."

"Let him keep learning the hard way. He will, eventually. He deserved that tonight."

"He can try all he wants, nothing's gonna change between me and her. Hope he understands I'm not going anywhere after tonight."

"Of course." Is all Mingi could respond with because of course Yunho wouldn't go anywhere— why the fuck would he let Seonghwa get in the way? He shouldn't. And Seonghwa needs to know that. "Anyway, just wanted to see if you two were okay. For real." Yunho sighs.

"Mmyeah. Thanks." He responds as Mingi daps it up. "We're just gonna head home."

"Drive safely. Text me if you need me." Mingi gives you a small smile before running off to tend to his friends, San now also getting dragged into all his mess. 

The walk over is quiet, but Yunho still opens the passenger door for you when you finally get to his car. You hate the silence that falls between you two, but you understand Yunho is upset and needs his own time away from everything, from you, even. You can't help but cry even more into your hands when he pulls into the apartment lot, Yunho letting out a breath as he puts the car in park. He looks over at you and his heart breaks because he truly hates to see you cry, and he never wants to be the reason behind you being sad or hurt.

"Hey. Don't." He says softly, hands coming up to pry your own hands away from your face. He gently wipes the tears away, making sure no drop is missed. 

"I'm sorry, Yuyu." You repeat.

"I know, it's okay."  He says, even though right now, it's not.

"Is it?"

"Let's get you home, okay?" He just looks at you with a soft expression before unbuckling his seatbelt. He comes over to open your door, locking his car when you step out and slowly make your way to your apartment. When you get to the steps, you turn towards him with a small pout. Yunho pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, wiping any remaining stragglers from staining your cheeks. He's not happy, but he's trying to send you off on a calm note— hoping this could at least ease you for the night. "Get some rest."

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He doesn't say anything before he pulls away and takes a few steps backwards. "Yunho." You call for him in that tone of yours that always makes him so weak.

"Y/N, please. I just need to shake this off. That's all. Goodnight." All you can do is simply walk away before running up the steps and into your apartment. Chaery is the only one home, cleaning her dishes after cooking a good meal for all of you to share.

"My love is home! I cooked!" She says happily, but her smile dies when she sees you set your bags down and cry into your hands. She drops everything and rushes over, throwing her arms around you while guiding you to the couch. "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" She brushes the hair away from your face while you continue to cry. You don't respond for a bit, signaling for Chaery to just hold you and let you be.

You cry, and you cry.

Because you already miss Yunho, and you feel so dumb for overthinking the entire thing, for not being honest with him. It was a stupid mistake, but you hope Yunho knows you truly weren't out to hurt him. 

You hope he can forgive you and move past this— with you, together.

Because today and so on, he's all you want. You love Yunho, and there's no one else that completes you the way that he does.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks

[nightclawduke]

sheriff hoyt hcs?

Quote from [Elfen Lied]. I apologize for the late reply, I've been busy and I was gathering reference material while also working on the illustrations here.

In my list of headcanons, I will be mentioning sensitive subjects. I'm talking about Hoyt afterall. Please be mindful of that and proceed to read the rest under the cut. It's a long text too. Thanks in advance for stopping by n.n

The following headcanons are written by taking in consideration both movies and comics. I personally belive that the comics, altough they provide interesting complementary material, are inconscistent with the canon source but I still borrowed some comic elements of Hoyt to create the basis of various hedcanons here and adapt them to the character we see in both films.

░𝕆ℝ𝕀𝔾𝕀ℕ𝕊░ I've read a theory about why Luda Mae is referred as his both mother and sister of Hoyt, the reason being him a product incest between Charlie Hewitt Sr. and Luda Mae. It is a very solid theory taking into consideration that the events take place in a rural, southern isolated community. However, I decided to add another possible reason why Luda Mae is called "Mama", a more psychological one. I'm not dismissing the Incest Theory, I'm just giving my own opinion and the movie doesn't really provide any complete information of the Hewitt Family Tree. Now, in my theory, I do not doubt there were cases of abuse inside the family but I do not think Hoyt is the result of inbreeding. Mostly because -at least at first sight- he doesn't seem to have genetic malformations, which should be visible considering he's supposed to be the product between very close relatives that increases the percentage of disorders appearing in their offsprings. You can call him ugly if you want (lol), but he seems genetically proportioned for me at least. Perhaps it's something internal but he wouldn't have made it as far as 59 years of age if he had a genetic illness, considering there's no medical assistance at that town and he doesn't look the type of man to have a healty life style. Also, he definitely shows no signs of intellectual disability: he's too much of a manipulative, sadistic man to have that. Then, why does Hoyt calls his sister "mama"? Mrs. Hewitt must have been a submissive, traditional woman… perhaps she was forced to marry Mr. Hewitt. The father could have been a stern, rough man… (a foreshadowing of what Hoyt would turn into the future.) The husband abused his own wife and I theorize Hoyt was a product of that: an unwanted child. Monty was the firstborn, the one to heritage the land, then Luda Mae was born shortly after. Or Luda Mae might have been born first and then the couple tried a second time for a boy with the intention of leaving the land to a male that could carry the family name, this second child being Monty. In general, I see Monty and Luda only being a few years apart. Charlie was probably conceived after the marriage was slowly falling apart/ becoming toxic. We are talking about a conservative and religious family and so, Mrs. Hewitt was forced to keep the child, and thus, Charlie was born. The mother I think either died during childbirth or managed to abandon the husband after reaching a breaking point, the second option less likely since a trad wife like that would have endured it all just for the sake of her children but I do belive she was completely absent from Charlie's life. And so, Luda Mae became the closest thing Charlie had of a mother figure, clinging to her during his early years, like a stray child looking for motherly love. These feelings would linger still as an adult, Luda Mae seems to be his most respected family member. She is the only woman to put him in his place and the only one which he cares deeply for or we wouldn't had these scenes.

Credits to lairofhorror.tripod.com A Horror fansite.

The father, now without his wife… would end up venting his frustrations at his own daughter. All of this domestic violence will end up affecting the young psyche of Hoyt…

░𝕎𝔸ℝ𝕄𝕋ℍ░ He doesn't like winter because it reminds him of his time as a POW in Korea (Based on "By Himself" comic.) One of the things he missed the most from his hometown during the war besides home made food, was the summer. Warmth. A feeling that also associates with his family. If there's a thing that the man genuinely cherishes is his home and his family. During winter, his war flashbacks probably get worse: getting more irascible, having nightmares and drinking more. He also tends to get sick during cold days.

░𝔹𝕃𝕆𝕆𝔻𝕃𝕌𝕊𝕋░ He has a thing for blood. He sucks his fingers when he has the blood of the original sheriff and also licks a glass shard that he pulled out of Bailey's chest… so he gets very freaky with that kind of stuff. Very likely that he likes to lick bleeding wounds from his female victims. A sadistic satisfaction from feeding from others' weaknesses. Dog mentality.

░ℍ𝕌ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ░ Back at the "Dog mentality" thing I said, the comics present a small trophy room. We can see music albums, toys and comics too. The later are a kinda curious thing since he's a grown ass man, perhaps he wanted to gift them for Jed or Thomas. But then, they would be at home and not at his private "office". Maybe another projection of that may represent a lost childhood… There are also newspaper clips and, of course, female underwear. He's a collector, keeping his hunting trophies. I think his favorite kind of trinkets are female accesories since he's an old perv. His most prized ones are probably kept in a drawer in his room for "easy access". I would add pr0n mags too, could have a thing for linguere since he collects their undergarments.

░𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼░ In the comics, there are some instances of Hoyt talking about "when does Thomas will find a girl of his liking?". I personally believe he's kind of projecting, in a similar manner when he tortures his victims based on what he went through as a POW: He's expressing something about himself.

In movies we do not see this kind of dialogues but I do not think is unlikely if he has thoughts like that. As a conservative, country man that has a strong attachment to his family, he would probably consider leaving a legacy an important thing, even if said legacy is not completely made of his own flesh and blood. Both movies and comics show the Hewitts keeping the children of victims alive, as if claiming them for themselves and thus, he might want for Thomas to have a woman and continuing the family line. However, Thomas does not seem to be particulary attracted to any of the victims that appear in both media or at least not enough for sparing their lives. I think Hoyt would find that sightly dissapointing, and sometimes might consider of doing it himself: getting a woman and having a child of his very own. Yet, altough Hoyt shows interests in these young women, they are all discarded, dispossed of in the end. That's because he sees them as pieces of meat to be consumed and then moves to the next, like an alcoholic drinking bottle after bottle of licor: never fully sated. One bottle is not enough, one blonde won't ease the craving for flesh. In "The Beginning" we don't see him drinking like in the 2003 film. That vise must have started the more he got lost in his delusions, his PTSD must have gotten worse the more people he killed and abused. Now taking into consideration the aformentioned points of a possible desire for lineage, his tendency of projecting his issues on others and his violent desires that are never fully satisfied which create and trap him in a viscious cycle, I theorize the following: Hoyt might want a woman by his side, a warm body to wake up next to him and that can satisfy him in all senses and give him a son of his very own blood. He caress them, kisses them, tells them he loves them. Logically, they reject him. And so, they die. The cycle never ends, the "right" woman never shows. And never did.

In his youth he probably had flings or took advantage of women in bars knowing their unwell condition wouldn't let them to stop him or even remember him. He wasn't one for serious relationships. He was young and lived his days as they came, continuing his life as a farmer. But time went by, he got older and went to war. He came back home as a changed man, traumatized.

Illustration by me: on the left, a young Charlie. On the right, the POW.

Later, he was not the only one who was changing, the town was slowly dying too. His mind and his cherished hometown were both decaying. This must have been a breaking point for him and that's why as soon as he saw the chance to steal the identity of the original Winston Hoyt, he didn't hestated. As Hoyt, he takes what he wants when he wants it and feels powerful. He feels in control. Control that he both craves and needs in all aspects of his life since his biggest fear is being brought down to his knees and beg like what happened in Korea. That's why he strongly states that Charlie is dead once he adopts his new role as Sheriff Hoyt.

Charlie couldn't had a woman, but Hoyt can. He can have as many he wants until he gets tired, until the right one for him shows up, one to be worthy enough for him and his legacy. Charlie was beaten up and weakned, Hoyt is the one that does the beating. Charlie is dead in life, Hoyt is living at his fullest. Such is the perception of a fractured mind.

Old fanart by me, 2022.

And speaking of double identities… allow me to present my extended analysis:

『𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ "𝕊𝔼𝕃𝔽"』 I recently rewatched both films and was keeping an eye for background shots and Hoyt close ups for drawing references and so. This scene where he looks at himself in the window took my attention more than what it means to be.

It is also interesting to note that this Window scene happens after being scolded again by Luda Mae for getting his new role way above his head.

In the context of the movie, this is just a very humble attempt of a jumpscare. It's just Hoyt staring at the window when the final girl tries to save of what's left of her friends. Nothing more. But here I will go full creative mode and imagine this shot from both Window and Mirror scenes could be more profound, making a parallelism to another horror media: Silent Hill.

In Silent Hill 2, the player takes the role of James Sunderland. A man that gets a mysterious letter from his late wife, waiting for him at Silent Hill. The starting scene is him staring at his reflection at the mirror… Fans later discovered that James is not really looking at the mirror but at the player. Something similar we see on the SH2 remake when James learns the truth of what happened with his wife: he's avoiding looking at his reflection.

The scene is interpreted as a way to James to avoid facing his demons, his sins, the true reason why he was called in Silent Hill: to look at the face the killer of his wife. Something extremely interesting about Jame's info from offcial media is that he was conceptualized to have a doble personality. Sounds familiar, right?

On the third game of the SH games, we play as Heather Mason. She's the girl that our protagonist from the first game -Harry Mason- had to save from The Order -the main game antagonists- from using her for a ritual to summon a deadly God. Heather's lore is extensive but I will sum it up at this: Heather was "born" from another girl named Alessa Gillespie, a girl that was used by a cult to bring horrors beyond human cohomprension at the town of Silent Hill. Heather is like both twin sister and daughter of Alessa, the other half of her own flesh and mind. SH3 also has a mirror scene in early game:

By reading Heather's words, can you guess what I'm trying to talk about here and how can it be linked with Hoyt and his own mirror scenes?

I know I'm looking too much into scenes that were planned in the movie in a very superficial manner but I think that, in the end, one as a viewer can perceive art in different ways. I mean… if the actor himself gave more to the character than what the writters intented… one can do the same as a spectator. That how art is.

Now, what we see with Charlie/Hoyt is not punishment of one's sins (James) nor confronting the inner darkness that lurks in one's mind (Heather)… but to completely embrace this doppelganger that has taken full control of the self. Hoyt looks straight in the eye at his own reflection, accepting this fracture and replacement of himself. The world from the other side of the mirror calls to him to be reborn as someone new.

.

.

.

Pheeeew! That has to be longest textpost I've ever written on this little blog! It was super fun, specially because I was listening to SH OST while organizing everything :) To any stranger that read the whole thing: thank you kindly.

[heavens-moonlight]

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟭𝟭 : 𝗔 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗟’𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗟

𝟭𝟬 : 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 , 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 | 𝟭𝟮 : 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗧

Author’s Note: A bit of a longer update since there's only about 3 chapters left after this one and I'm not ready to say goodbye to this story yet! I've grown too attached over the course of writing it but with that said, I'll be proud to have completed another story to look back on fondly! Hope you enjoy ♡

"Y-you were the Police all along?" Da-Bum asks Na-Hee in complete shock at her unexpected admission, eyes transfixed on the phone screen's slowly fading light.

"I would've hidden it to the very end if we didn't reach this point," she emphasizes. "Every single message that I wrote, they too, were all true. I never lied about anything. Not even once. How can I possibly resort to underhanded ruses when this is the situation we've ended up in? Unless I was far from a human being."

Guilty conscience pricked by the concealed ridicule, Mi-Na reaches out in desperate want to backtrack but is only met with clear dismissal.

"Na-Hee, I really am sorry. You can choose whether to believe me, but I was fooled by So-Mi too. I'm not part of the Mafia team."

"No, you're not sorry," comes Na-Hee's unyielding response. "You're only sorry you got caught."

"I'm trying to make amends and promise to compensate you. It may not seem like it, but I trusted you this whole time."

Na-Hee's laugh comes out more like a scoff, disgusted.

"You're all the same. You step on others to climb to the top and only when you fall short do you start to apologize. It's not for me, it's for you. Always for you—a last ditch effort to save yourself."

So-Mi can only stare blankly, sensing her impending doom.

"This isn't how it's supposed to go. Something must be wrong. It's not me..."

Seizing his chance to take the advantage offered, Da-Bum chimes in, "Is that the reason you used me also? To get rid of Kyung-Jun?"

So-Mi turns to him, livid.

"Yah!"

"Now it's too late for you to deny it," Mi-Na follows in his tracks. "It was your idea in the first place to probe around and steal his keys."

You finally realize, with startling clarity, that Kyung-Jun had wanted to protect you after all.

How he knew it would eventually come to this, you'll never figure out.

"Did you intentionally kill Kyung-Jun?" Jun-Hee interjects to question, seeking confirmation for something he has already deeply suspected.

"Why would I?" So-Mi still denies. "He would never lose the upper hand."

And yet, he gave it up for you.

His weakness...

...Is it me?

Eun-Chan's outburst finally draws you out of your musing as he shoves So-Mi rearward, the squeaking sound of her shoes skidding on the floor like that of a guillotine dropping.

"You've had it out for everyone since the start! You really were going to send Eun-Ha to her death that time, weren't you? From that night forward, you only became greedier and crueler. If it hadn't been for your self-interest, we wouldn't have had to sacrifice so many innocent lives!" he spits words in her face. "All those people you wrongly accused that we foolishly believed, the Doctors could've saved in imminent danger!"

"How could you do that?" Yeon-Woo adds nearly inaudibly, in incredulity. "Do you not have even an ounce of humanity in your cold heart?"

"Of course she doesn't," Eun-Ha replies with certainty, glaring at So-Mi. "I knew it the day she was ready to send both Dong-Hyun and Seol-Hwa to their deaths at once in broad daylight. She's a living demon with no feelings—only vices."

"So...it wasn't just speculation after all," Jun-Hee says with utter venom in his voice, reaching over to take your hand in his tightly, the tragic thought of having been so close to losing you resurfacing.

So-Mi flips her hair out of her face angrily, crazed wide eyes looking at everyone in succession.

"I had no choice!" she screeches. "Is it a crime to simply want to survive? Do you think I wanted to become the Mafia?" She throws her hands up in the air as her eyes brim with emotions, tone conveying all her frustrations. "It's not like I had a say in any of this!"

Crocodile tears.

Now everyone can see through them.

Eun-Chan grabs her by the collar violently, disregarding his strength overpowering hers.

"Stop with your bullshit." His hold tightens and you see So-Mi's eyes shifting back and forth, not expecting such a strong reaction from him. "Does it even matter now if we survive? What about us? Do we deserve to die, huh?! Do we?!" As she tries and fails to loosen his grip on her, he only tightens his hold and lowly grits through his teeth, "So what? You deserve to live and we deserve to die?! It always comes back to you, you, you, doesn't it?!" he shouts in her face, throwing her defense back in her face.

No one chose to play this game.

But every choice was a conscious decision.

And she had chosen the vilest methods of all.

Having had enough, So-Mi's hands come up to yank his fingers away from around her neck, and only after multiple unsuccessful attempts, does Eun-Ha step forward to reel Eun-Chan back.

"I didn't kill anyone. My hands have no blood on them, unlike the other members. What happened to Se-Eun has nothing to do with me. There's no need to pay for sins I didn't commit."

"I dare you to say that again," you warn, no longer playing nice. "Don't use Se-Eun—or anyone else for that matter—for your own sake. You don't deserve to do that. Keep our names out of your dirty mouth."

"And just who are you to be preaching to me about right and wrong?" she targets you as she shoves you aside, but you stand your ground, unflinching.

You slap her across the face, and as she tries to retaliate, you hit her again on the other cheek, the sound echoing in the now quiet lobby.

Everyone looks on without intervening, knowing full well she deserved everything and more coming her way.

"A good friend," you answer. "Something you'll never be, nor will you ever have." Stepping closer, you fix her with a hatred-filled glare, simmering with repulsion. "This isn't even half of the punishment you ought to receive."

"Shut up!"

"Why should I?" you lark derisively in her face as you pat her shoulder condescendingly. "You don't have the right to tell me or anyone what to do anymore because guess what?" You jab a finger into her shoulder blade and force her back, digit digging into the skin as she flinches. "Your mask has fallen and your ugly true self is on full display."

As she opens her mouth to respond, Jun-Hee steps in between, shielding you.

"Enough!"

Desperately, So-Mi clings onto his hand, pleading, "Jun-Hee...save me. Please?"

He pulls his hand out, dusting it with the other as if her touch alone sickened him to no end, while hers dangle limply, now lonely holding onto cold air.

"I didn't think you could repulse me more than you already do, but you seem to always have a penchant in proving me wrong."

Jun-Hee slides his phone from his pocket, swiveling the screen toward her as he votes without an inch of change in expression.

The first vote becomes the catalyst for the others.

[ ᴋɪᴍ ᴊᴜɴ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴊᴀɴɢ ʜʏᴜɴ-ʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴋɪᴍ ᴅᴏɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴏʜ ᴊᴜɴɢ-ᴡᴏɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴀʜɴ ɴᴀ-ʜᴇᴇ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴍɪ-ɴᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

"Don't do it! Don't vote! Hand me the phone!"

"Will you just stop already?!" Da-Bum strides forward, pushing her to the ground and she hits it so hard, you wonder if the impact will bring some sense back into her. "Give it up. You've lost."

For some reason, despite his fervor, you can't buy into it.

It seems like a show, and he's putting on his best performance.

Maniacal laughter rings out, bouncing off the linoleum floor, and you're truly convinced So-Mi has gone mad.

"You're all fooled," she states while slowly rising to a seated position. "Do you even know who the rest of the Mafias are?" her voice stutters as she's about to throw her teammates under the bus.

You stare in horror as her neck veins start protruding and she chokes on her next words, cheeks puffing out before blood spews from her lips.

[ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛɪᴇs ᴏғ ғᴇʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴀғɪᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴs. ]

Red liquid streams, hitting the floor only to splatter as it pools.

Even so, So-Mi tries to swipe her fingers through the red ocean she's drowning in, attempting to write the forbidden final words in her own rivulets of blood.

"You're doing all sorts of things now. If you're going to die, then at least do it quietly and quickly," Eun-Chan dismisses.

[ ɪᴍ ᴇᴜɴ-ᴄʜᴀɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ɴᴀ ʏᴇᴏɴ-ᴡᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ʙᴀᴇᴋ ᴇᴜɴ-ʜᴀ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ.

ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

Crawling toward Yoon-Seo, the kindest of the group and the sole player left yet to vote, not that it would matter, So-Mi grasps at her hands like a lifeline, smearing blood on Yoon-Seo's palms.

As the shorter girl is pulled down to crouch in front of So-Mi's sprawled out body, there are tears in her eyes.

This time, it is out of resentment and not pity.

"You're the one who brought this about, so you have no one to blame except yourself. You should have turned back around when you knew you had already gone too far."

[ ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ. ]

"We need to hide," Da-Bum reminds as he steps over So-Mi's feet, downright ignoring her existence. "Forget about her."

As Jung-Won tugs Yoon-Seo upstairs, the latter swivels her head around to look at you and you nod at her, assuring her that you'll meet again in the morning.

Yu-Jun slows to a stop beside you and only when half the group has dispersed do you turn and whisper to him, "Please save Na-Hee. She's done more than enough for us."

"I will," he promises. "Her efforts won't be in vain."

Yu-Jun pretends to brush past you like nothing more than a mere classmate as Jun-Hee comes to your side.

You watch as Dong-Hyun and Hyun-Ho support Na-Hee from either side, stopping at the foot of the steps leading upstairs. Whatever she says to them has them both turning around to look at you.

Na-Hee hobbles over to you and Jun-Hee, looking in turn at the two of you. "Will you both come with me?" She twiddles her fingers. "There's something I have to say."

You turn to Jun-Hee and readily agree, the trust mutual.

"I won't take long," you say, before hurriedly climbing the steps where Dong-Hyun and Hyun-Ho have ascended halfway, pausing upon hearing your approaching footsteps.

Hyun-Ho is absolutely crestfallen, eyes not leaving from the spot where Na-Hee stands.

You understand him so plainly without the need to voice anything aloud, sympathizing with his feelings, and it hurts all the same.

Dong-Hyun lowers his head and shoves his hands in his pockets, at a loss for words.

"She'll be okay, I promise."

Hyun-Ho's eyes shift toward yours and you can see the tears forming. It breaks your heart to see him this way—someone so strong you've always relied on.

"Will she?" he inquires quietly, a lone teardrop falling from his left eye.

"I'll make sure of it. Please trust me even if it doesn't seem so initially tomorrow morning."

Hyun-Ho suddenly draws you into a hug, arms wrapped tight around you. Standing on a step lower than him, your face rests right against his chest and you can hear his erratic heartbeat, signaling his nervousness and worry. He whispers in your ear, ever so quietly, that you nearly miss it, "I know you've always wanted to be a Doctor, but I never thought it would be in this way. You're meant to be a lifesaver, Seol-Hwa, and I will root for you in the worlds I know of, and those I don't."

You pat his back soothingly, forcing your own tears to stay at bay, not knowing how much longer you'll have this familial love in you embrace. It tears you apart to think about.

"Then you must stay alive."

Pulling back, you slip the key from inside your skirt pocket and hand it over, placing it inside his palm.

"What's this?" Dong-Hyun asks, as you tug him closer, head tilting toward the key.

"It opens a storage shed on the roof only accessible from the inside. If you lock it, no one will be able to get to you."

They turn to you, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.

"Where did you find this?"

You bite you lip, not quite sure how to respond, but you settle for, "Someone gave it to me as a parting gift."

Dong-Hyun is none the wiser, but Hyun-Ho's omniscient gaze makes you feel like he knows exactly who it is.

"What about you?"

Dong-Hyun moves, already making to take it out of Hyun-Ho's hand and give it back, but you shake your head, forcibly curling Hyun-Ho's fingers around the piece of metal, even as he resists it.

"I'll see you both soon," you reconcile as an answer, sending them a small smile, one not quite reaching your eyes, that isn't enough to dispel their reservations.

With one last hug for both of them, you pivot around and descend the steps toward an awaiting Na-Hee and Jun-Hee, knowing full well that if you were to stay, Dong-Hyun and Hyun-Ho would've made it hard for you to ever leave.

Na-Hee and Hyun-Ho hold eye contact as the seconds tick by, only looking away when the announcement comes in.

[ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ. ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs, ᴋɪᴍ sᴏ-ᴍɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Na-Hee ambles away in front as Jun-Hee pulls you along by the hand to trail behind her.

Only when the lights grow dimmer do you spare one last glance at So-Mi, forced into submission as she prostrates herself at the foot of the white marble statue. Its presence demanded to be revered, glowing beneath a sole spotlight, shining like a halo.

Your eyes trail upward, only for your breath to catch in your throat once you finally recognize the face etched in stone.

After turning a few corners, Na-Hee swivels around to look from Jun-Hee to you, then down to your clasped hands before raising her head once more, lips curling upward. Though she's showing the tiniest of smiles, her eyes remain sad and distant, the light in them dwindled.

"The only reason I called you both is because I know for certain I can trust you. Your identities...I've figured them out."

"We'll try our best to keep you safe," you assure.

"Rather than that," Na-Hee motions toward the bathroom as the three of you stand outside the door, "I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?" Jun-Hee questions.

"I know the Mafia members will be after me tonight." She looks as though she's accepted the fact, no longer fearing the outcome. "So, I've devised a plan to catch them in case I don't make it."

"No, you will," you stress, not quite knowing if it was said to comfort her or yourself.

Na-Hee steps toward you and takes your hands in hers.

"I can't weigh if I deserve that. The least I can do is sacrifice myself to repay everyone, especially you, for the kindness you've shown me even with my faults. If it comes down to it, I don't mind dying if you all can make it out of here."

"Na-Hee..."

"Before we conclude it there, let's at least try, yeah?" Jun-Hee suggests. "We all came here together. We should all leave together too."

You squeeze her hand and Na-Hee finally relents, agreeing for the time being, pushing the bathroom door open and gesturing around.

"I happened to find a really great hiding spot a while ago and was saving it to use, but I don't think there's a better time than now." She points at the ceiling and you finally notice the square trap door above. "I'll be up here through the night as hidden bait." Na-Hee pulls out a paint canister from inside her hoodie and goes to grab a spray bottle of air freshener. "If we mix these together and spritz it all over the floor, anyone who steps inside will reveal themselves."

"How will we see it?" Jun-Hee asks.

Na-Hee sprays a little on the sink countertop and flips the light switch off, the yet-to-dry patch immediately glowing neon orange.

Once the lights come back on again, you turn to Jun-Hee, suddenly remembering.

"Those UV lights Yoon-Seo mentioned once that we found in the storage room," you jog his memory. "We can use those to catch the culprits."

"Are you two accepting my request?"

"Of course—no doubt about it. We'll do everything we can."

"If us Citizens had worked together like this from the beginning, I think things would've turned out very differently," Jun-Hee laments absentmindedly, but it still gives you and Na-Hee much to think about, and to regret.

"Then let's start now," Na-Hee concludes. "We can work toward the happy ending we're all desperately wishing for."

Knowing there's not much time remaining until the clock strikes twelve, the three of you make haste with the preparations in tandem. Even the little details are worked out, albeit with shortcuts given the allowed duration. Eventually, when it's five until, Jun-Hee helps Na-Hee onto the counter so she can climb up into the little space.

"We'll come get you in the morning," Jun-Hee states, prepared to go as Na-Hee settles in, giving him a nod of assurance.

Seeing as Na-Hee hasn't closed the door yet, he senses that she has more to say and turns to leave, waiting for you outside.

She peers down at you.

"Does Jun-Hee know?"

"That I'm a Doctor?" At her nod, you answer, "No, he doesn't, and I won't let him find out."

"Why is that?"

"He'll never forgive me if I don't put myself first, but I simply can't afford to be selfish. My job is to save everyone."

"You know you can't, right? Even if you really want to."

"So I've heard." You think back to the previous conversation with Hyun-Ho. "But I can't give up without trying."

"Can I ask for another favor?" Na-Hee voices quietly, and you look up, waiting for the shoe to drop. "Please don't save me."

You stare at her and she looks back, entirely serious.

"You know I can't do that."

"You can't or you won't?"

"Both. How can I stand by and do nothing if I can do something?"

Na-Hee sighs, looking down at you forlornly, yielding. "If..." she swallows, words caught in her throat. "If..." she begins again, "something were to happen to me tonight, please don't let Hyun-Ho see me tomorrow. You're the only one I can ask."

"Na-Hee..." you say, catching her eye. "I never break my promises."

It's vague, but you're sure she understands everything left unsaid.

"Thank you," is all she replies with. "And I'm sorry."

You two look at one another for a while more until Na-Hee fastens the hatch with a click, the silence that envelops the space now suffocating.

Taking a deep breath in and out while standing in the middle of the shrouding darkness, you imagine the glow of the paint to be those of the glow-in-the-dark stars you used to tape to the ceiling of your bedroom when you were little.

You hoped that the light, no matter how little, will shine even in the darkest of nights, just as it had then.

When day has broken, you wake up next to Jun-Hee, nestled in an inconspicuous alcove behind several bookshelves.

Given that Jun-Hee is still unaware of Yu-Jun activating the resurrection chance, he springs up hurriedly and dashes toward the restrooms, you swiftly following behind.

Despite knowing it in your heart, nothing will ever prepare you to see Na-Hee's body splayed out on the cold tiled floor, a plastic bag wrapped tight over her face.

Jun-Hee slumps to his knees, devastated. His breaths come out unevenly, yet again wallowing in the guilt of having allowed another classmate to perish.

You don't know how to calm him or tell him the full truth, and it pains you to see him so distraught.

His fingers are curled so tightly into fists that his knuckles turn white.

He looks up at you standing dead still beside him, eyes rimmed red. You're hesitant to be the first to reach out, but your eyes soften as they meet his.

On your next outbreath, that's all it takes for Jun-Hee to get to his feet and pull you in firmly for a hug, tears wetting your shoulder.

The secret eats you alive, every teardrop of his like spikes of ice against your skin, piercing and cutting you deep.

"I shouldn't have approved of the idea last night."

You close your eyes and swallow down the lump in your throat at his broken voice. "It's what Na-Hee wanted," you reason quietly, hugging him tighter, not knowing how else to console him aside from your presence alone.

"But it's not what we wanted."

"I know," you respond shakily.

"What do we do now?"

Jun-Hee sounds so lost and it takes everything in you to not tell all.

"We wait." He pulls back to look at you and your hands come up to cup his face, wiping away his tears. "For Na-Hee to wake up again."

"What do you mean?"

"There hasn't been an execution announcement, which can only mean one thing."

Only then does it ignite the fire again in his eyes as he leans forward to pull you in toward him, body less tense that it had been.

"Then we will wait," he repeats your words. "For a miracle."

The meeting that ensues is entirely dismal, exhaustion and bleakness evident on everyone's faces.

Mi-Na is the last to arrive as all eyes turn to her, your own doing a cursory sweep of her appearance, outfit entirely unlike what she had on the previous night.

As the door shuts behind her, Jun-Hee drags a counter with a black tabletop into the center of the room and sprays its surface with an ample amount of the solution you two and Na-Hee had made.

"We mixed air freshener with neon paint. In this way, the one who tried to kill Na-Hee will have it on their shoes," he cuts straight to the chase.

At this, you raise the UV light stick by your side and slowly drag it over the table, lines of scans leaving trails of glowing light.

"Did Na-Hee really put you up to this?" Da-Bum inquires, stepping forward next to you to take a closer look. "It's not a lie, right?"

You shift away, irked by his presence more than ever before. Eyes narrowing, you turn your head to analyze his expression.

"Who are you really doubting here? Us...or yourself?"

"I—"

"Na-Hee's not here," Mi-Na rudely cuts in and you can't tell if it's respite on Da-Bum's face you see. "We don't even know whether she's still alive. How can we believe you and Jun-Hee?"

You press your lips together in a thin line before settling your attention on her. Regardless of whether she was Mafia or a Citizen, she had never been of any help aside from swaying the public opinion, always in the wrong direction, neither benefitting any side.

"There wasn't an announcement, just as it was in the case when Eun-Ha and Yu-Jun were revived."

Before she even has the slightest opening to retort, Jun-Hee presents his phone to the group, playing the video the three of you recorded last night as you strategized. Being two steps ahead, Na-Hee suggested it originally, understanding dawning that if something were to happen to her, no one would be able to refute this truth.

"Is this not enough proof?" There's no reason to object if you're not Mafia when the Police herself relied on Seol-Hwa and I. Am I wrong?"

"She knew our identities all along," you add. "We're both Citizens and that's enough for her to trust us. Can the same be said about you?"

You look from Mi-Na to Da-Bum who both avert their eyes, a sense of shame remaining.

"We learned of a way to find out." Jun-Hee kneels in front of you and you hand over the light stick, its white beam casting shadows of your footprint onto the floor. "May I?" he asks, reaching for your shoe.

At your nod, his fingers curl lightly around the back of your heel, hand gentle against the sliver of skin uncovered by your sock as he pulls it toward him, holding your foot steady atop his palm.

The rest watch on attentively as he waves the light wand around, scanning your shoes from every angle, no glow in sight.

"The offender will have specks of paint visible, whether that be on their socks or on their shoes."

Jun-Hee sets your feet back on the floor before going to examine the rest in succession, Mi-Na being the last to round out the inspection.

"Has this method actually been proven to work?"

She sidesteps and everyone looks up from where they were focused on Jun-Hee still squatting on the floor.

"Better this than nothing," you reply bluntly.

Despite her reluctance, Jun-Hee moves the search forward anyhow. He pauses short as he gets to her socks and you attempt to peer around the heads of the rest.

"Why is it glowing?" Yeon-Woo points at her without hesitation. "You—"

From behind, Da-Bum's voice comes in, unbidden as he scoffs, "No wonder. I found it weird when she wanted to steal Kyung-Jun's keys under So-Mi's orders without hesitation."

"Yah, don't act like you also weren't part of that!" Mi-Na snaps at him before waving her hand as a means of no offense to the group. "This isn't right. It really wasn't me."

"Did you take the venture to rid of Na-Hee?"

As always, Jung-Won is no nonsense.

"I didn't! How could I when I didn't know where she was?"

"Why is it on your shoe then?"

Eun-Chan and Yeon-Woo stand side by side, their perspectives in alignment.

"How could I possibly explain that?! All I can guarantee is that I'm a Citizen."

Rising to his feet, Jun-Hee lets his arm drop to his side.

"Can you prove it?"

"What?"

"Is there anything concrete to back up your claims? How can we believe you?" He throws her words back at her, forcing her into silence, unable to deny. "One more Mafia will bite the dust before the end of today."

Mi-Na throws her hands up into the air in irritation, voice rising as she insists, "Have you all lost your minds?! It's not me. I'm on your side!"

"We agreed to vote tonight," Yoon-Seo steadily states.

"Why?!" Yeon-Woo's tone conveying solely annoyance. "Why wait when we're sure it's her? Let's vote now."

Him and Eun-Chan grab each of Mi-Na's arms, wanting to get her out of sight.

"Take your hands off me!" When she's finally able to pull out of their grasps, she runs a hand through her hair. "How many times must I repeat that I'm blameless?"

Backing up her two closest friends, Eun-Ha brings up the topic of conversation looming over the group since a few nights ago.

"If you're so innocent, then how do you justify pocketing Kyung-Jun's keys and hiding it from us all?"

"So-Mi put me up to it!"

"As if she did." Eun-Chan pushes her back hard. "You both tried to gang up in order to fool everyone, down to the last minute of her life."

"She used me just the same!"

"Stop using her as an excuse for everything. After all, she was a Mafia you followed blindly," Hyun-Ho's voice is calm, but his words hold nothing back.

Sensing the ever-growing tension in the room slow to dissipate, Yoon-Seo steps in, rectifying with, "Let's all calm down for just a second."

She reaches toward Jun-Hee for the light source and he hands it over, confused.

"What are you doing?"

Yoon-Seo is in the process of re-scanning Mi-Na's shoes, this time from the top of her socks down to the very bottom of her soles, not missing any viewpoints for clues.

"Look, if she really was present, the paint would've dyed the bottom also. It's weird how it merely grazed the socks' sides. Someone could've put it on her. We can't be sure yet."

Jun-Hee gazes at his childhood best friend in incredulity, yet to accept that out of everyone, she would be the first to be against him.

To make matters even worse, Jung-Won sides with Yoon-Seo.

"Let's vote tonight as we initially intended. We should make a decision when our heads are clearer."

For the first time ever since knowing them, Jun-Hee seems genuinely angry with Yoon-Seo as he heads to exit the room, not acknowledging anyone further, footsteps heavy, echoing with his indignation.

Yoon-Seo calls out, trying to rationalize and make amends, but if he hears her, he pretends not to.

You look up as Jung-Won and Yoon-Seo emerge from the bathrooms, surprised to see you waiting outside.

"What's wrong?" Yoon-Seo takes up right away, noticing the expression on your face.

"Can we talk?"

Saving the formalities, you look from her to Jung-Won.

Yoon-Seo's eyes shift between the two of you inquisitively as the one in question nods, but she doesn't push the matter further, excusing herself to find Jun-Hee and apologize.

Once she's left, Jung-Won's steps fall in line with yours as you two walk side-by-side, you leading her away from the building.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

She doesn't ask more, catching on that you wouldn't answer anyhow.

If she's stunned when you bring her back to the scene of the crime where Yu-Jun previously laid, she doesn't show it.

Chills run up your spine as you eye the puddle of dried blood on the ground, maroon splatters yet to fade.

Jung-Won's voice pulls you out of your trance.

"Why are we here again?"

"You should know better than I do."

She crosses her arms across her chest and fixes you with a perplexed stare.

"I'm not picking up what you're putting down."

"Jung-Won ah," you say tiredly, and the tenor exasperation laced in it has her eyes wavering. "Do you still consider me as a friend?"

"Of course I do," she answers without hesitation. "You can doubt anything except for that. We're in this together until the end."

You can't tell if you want to laugh, scream, or cry.

"And what end is that?"

A bitter smile makes its way onto your face, your lips quivering.

Jung-Won's eyebrows crease together, confusion and frustration mixed. "Have I done something wrong?" She takes a step toward you, arms now relaxed by her sides. "How have we become so distant so quickly?"

You shake your head, not knowing how to fix this.

"Is that all you have to say to me?"

"What do you want me to say then?"

The silence stretches between the two of you as your trembling hands reach for your skirt pocket, unsteadily pulling out an empty soda can.

The one you offered her that morning.

The same one that rested by the doorway of the warehouse.

Jung-Won's favorite.

Fool me once, shame on you.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

"Tell me it's not you."

"Are you...suspicious of me?"

Her eyes move rapidly between your own and you hate that you can visibly see the walls of her defense being built in the reflection of her pupils, impenetrable.

"As your best friend, I trust you." Your sincerity is true, which only hurts all the more. You swallow down the lump in your throat, the words you never thought you would have to say forcing its way through like scratches of thorns. "However..." the interjection is paired with a pause and you take a step back on wobbly feet. "...as your opponent in this game, I doubt you."

"Seol-Hwa—"

"Even now, you have yet to refute it. You can't tell me what I want to hear." A tear attempts to force its way out but you force it to remain at bay, eyes burning. "I hope that whatever happens...our friendship won't grow to die like my belief in you slowly is." Turning around, you crunch the flattened soda can in your hand, fingers compressing against the cold aluminum. "This is my first and last request—as someone you have to compete against and...as a friend who would always let you win."

The can drops with a resonant sound, clanging as it hits the ground to match your footsteps as you walk away, empty and hollow.

Maybe it's better this way.

You avoid Jung-Won and she avoids you.

Neither Jun-Hee nor Yoon-Seo seem to notice, lost in their own thoughts.

The night is approaching fast without a solution in sight that would benefit the Citizens, the disadvantaged minority in this cursed game.

Sitting in the reticent dark, the mere sepia glow of the table lamps cling to the edges of everything, softening the sharpness of veracity, making it harder to tell where the truth began and the lies ended.

Under the dim, honeyed light, it was like looking through a veil at a faded photograph that was not blurry enough yet also not clear enough, scarcely differentiable—a hazy in-between of half-truths and half-realities.

You can make out your own heartbeat, beating in time with the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, its hands creeping toward midnight; a sound that used to comfort you now only unsettles you, like an omnipresent omen you could neither ignore nor rid of.

A creak of the floorboards breaks the stillness of the suffocating four walls closing in as Jung-Won enters and shuts the door behind her, your musings put on hold.

"I didn't see any wounds on Mi-Na's body. We talked for a while and nothing of importance was noticeable."

"The Mafia keeps deceiving us. How about we do the same?" Yoon-Seo proposes off-handedly.

"In what way?"

"What if create a scenario where we act as though we discovered the camera Na-Hee set up in secret only to find out that it's dead, in need of charging. Those guilty will go to great lengths and do anything to destroy it as they did with the basement footage. We'll separate the two most suspicious people and see who will risk showing up."

"Do you think it'll be enough?"

Yoon-Seo pauses for a second, lips pursed.

"We have to force them to make a move by catching them off-guard."

"Let's do it," you willingly concur as Jun-Hee goes ahead in texting the group chat, the disguised ploy in the form of a notification.

"I'll go place Woo-Ram's camcorder in a position set to lure and meet you guys later."

Jun-Hee is the first to leave before Yoon-Seo addresses Jung-Won.

"I'm going to go with Seol-Hwa and see if we can isolate any of the other members. Jung-Won, you should stay with Mi-Na and continue to keep an eye on her. She already trusts you now so it would be easier for her to drop her defenses and let her guard down around you."

You don't wait for confirmation from Jung-Won before stepping out of the room with Yoon-Seo closely on your heels after exchanging her last words.

Slowing down your pace so that Yoon-Seo can catch up, you're startled when she links her arms with yours.

"Are you okay?"

Yoon-Seo's kind eyes stare back at you, sincere and worried all at once.

You force a smile onto your face that you hope is heartening but seeing as the corners of her lips begin to curve downward, maybe you're not as good at hiding secrets as you think you are.

"Are you?" you decide to say in response, evading.

She sighs, head dipping slightly.

"It would be a lie if I answered you in the affirmative because I'm not. I don't think any of us truly are. The more we play, the more that we're supposedly alive, but the longer this goes on, all I feel is as though I'm gradually dying from the inside."

You look at her and feel even more guilty with the white lies you've told her, and everything you've kept hidden. Out of everyone, Yoon-Seo is the least deserving of betrayal. If she found out what you have suspected about Jung-Won, you didn't know how she would take it.

"I don't know whether I'll make it out of here, but I wish that everyone I care for won't get hurt in the way I'm trying to prevent them from."

"It might be a little too late for that," Yoon-Seo says it with a light tone, but you both know how deep that truth runs.

A comfortable silence descends as the two of you squeeze in close quarters, concealing yourselves behind a pantry door, leaving only enough space to see out, the camera in your direct line of sight across the room.

"Yoon-Seo..."

"Hmm?"

"What is something you think is the hardest to forgive?”

"Betraying trust."

"And what would it take for you to forgive it?"

Before you can hear her response, the two of you hold your breaths as the sound of hassled footfalls approach, one foot crossing the threshold.

Your eyes trail upward to see the intruder as Yoon-Seo inhales beside you.

Da-Bum.

Your suspicions all this time were finally proven right.

Yet, you didn't know whether to be worried or relieved by that fact.

As he fiddles with the settings and supposedly captured material, you can hear him stressing to himself, fingers carding roughly through his hair every few seconds as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, on the balls of his feet.

"There's...nothing? That can't be right. Not if—"

"Not if what?" comes Jun-Hee's voice from the doorway and Da-Bum jolts, the camera flying out of his hand to land on the floor with a thud. "Not if you're the Mafia, right?"

"No, I—"

Yoon-Seo guides you out from hiding and the three of you surround him.

"Were you afraid it caught you?" Yoon-Seo questions with disgust.

"It's not that," Da-Bum retorts lamely, flapping his hands around, panicked.

"What is it then?" you probe, stepping toward him as he averts your all-knowing stare. "The fact that you were lured and came willingly, or the fact that you didn't think you could be fooled after fooling us all?"

As Da-Bum prepares to spew more nonsense, Jun-Hee clutches him by the collar forcefully, nearly choking him in anger as he wrenches him out into the open hallway.

"Get over here, you Mafia scum!" Mi-Na's shrill incoming voice mixes with Da-Bum's wheezing as she shoves Yeon-Woo, the latter bumping into the former, the counter-forces sending both stumbling in opposite directions.

"It's him."

Mi-Na and Yoon-Seo look at one another as they simultaneously declare while pointing their fingers at the culprit they rounded up.

"Guys," Da-Bum begins, straightening out his shirt and adopting his pitiful act once again, weaseling for a way out. "It's not like that. It's not me."

"Whatever you may be thinking, it's not true. Will you at least hear me out?!" Yeon-Woo's speech is strained as his hand instantaneously clutches at the upper quadrant of his abdomen.

"It's Da-Bum," Yoon-Seo repeats.

Mi-Na insists otherwise.

"It's Yeon-Woo."

"What confirmation made you come to that reckless conclusion?" you ask as the rest file in, all sorts of baffled.

"There was a gash on his body." She chucks multiple blood-soaked towels onto the pristine floor. "We found him in the infirmary patching himself up. Whether it's his blood, someone else's, or both, he's yet to say."

Your head spins at the revelation, ears ringing at the voices coming from every which way, accusing and refusing.

Whipping around, you cast Da-Bum a glare as you see the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face.

Though he tries to conceal it, relief is always harder to hide than discomfort.

Yoon-Seo slowly spins around, chin quavering with repressed rage as she stares Da-Bum down.

"About what you asked me earlier, Seol-Hwa."

And what would it take for you to forgive betrayal?

"Time—lots of time. Maybe forever."

For as long as you have known, forever meant always.

But here, forever can also mean never.

𝟭𝟬 : 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 , 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 | 𝟭𝟮 : 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗧

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

[cowboyjen68]

Hi, I'm gonna try and keep this relatively simple as in not into detail about why I am the way I am (basically I have anxiety around women despite being a woman myself; my mom used to be overly critical, unpredictable moods and take her stress out on me, and when I told her I'm bi she just kind of rolled her eyes and dismissed me lol (she's better about so many things now but the damage is done))(+ I got bullied by girls and abused by my friends growing up, a lot)

I'm recently starting to come more out of my shell and understand that my attraction to women isn't going to go anywhere, like I'm still going to have crushes on them and want to be with them. That's just the reality for me. Nothing wrong with that.

But I feel like I'm still chained down by my past and the sort of anxiety that it brings! I see it affecting my friendships with women, too, I notice: once the friendship starts to deepen, I feel a sort of threshold rising. It starts feeling more like I need to 'perform' better and I doubt myself, so I pull away. Feel like a fraud.

I'm understanding that I've developed this fear of not being good enough to be in women's general vicinity. It's not real, it's all in my head, I know it, but... I guess in my heart of hearts I just don't believe a woman could really really love me, or trust me, or take me seriously as a person and most of all, still be attracted to me like I am to her—I have nothing I can offer to any woman out there, is the belief I'm trying to tackle. Because, it must not be true, right?

The more practical level this issue presents at is social situations and flirting. I'm a big joker and like to give people laughs and let them feel appreciated/welcome, but if there're women I'm attracted to I just completely trip all over my own legs in a way that leaves me more embarrassed than anything. My flirting is (or, it feels) really awkward, and I'm constantly second-guessing whether she is just being nice, or responding actually. I feel like a total creep at times and worry about coming across creepy somehow, despite doing nothing out of the ordinary.

I'm also feeling quite inferior, because I'm in my late 20's and I should have at least this part of my shit together, but I don't. Yet, I can't just sit around isolated and loveless until I'm 'together' enough to 'impress her' or whatever else nonsense my weird complexes/perfectionisms try to tell me! I have to go out and try to make connections, go through trial/error and be a proper friend above all, I think.

I don't expect any comprehensive therapist-tier mindhacks on how to tackle any (or fuck forbid all) of this. What I'm kind of looking for perhaps, is reassurance or a kind word? Not that I want anyone to be going through these kind of things, though, what scares me more is the thought of being alone in this, especially that of being doomed into being stuck forever alone like this. Like, I feel so socially stunted. I know what I'm supposed to work on, but it all just feels like a massive hurdle that can't be fixed with a couple tips on flirting.

... though, flirting tips would also be welcome if you know what I'm saying. Or maybe advice on how to loosen up, keep calm and get over the assumption that everyone is straight and nobody's gonna be interested ever (aka. start seeing and really receiving the signs someone might be interested). Maybe a few words to help with how intimidating it is to try and make an entry to bi/lesbian spaces and make friends there, after so many freaking years up Aslan's? Gotta start somewhere with it.

I live in a relatively safe for LGBT+ country by the way, so I've got that going for me so far, as in, I can afford everyday normal behaviour and (up to a point) openness that would be immensely risky in a lot of places 'round the globe. It's a definite advantage.

Anyway, love you blogging about your life here, it's very inspiring to see how far you've gotten along with building a life that's yours <3 it gives me hope, too! And yeah I guess I'm in awe. Also how kind of you to receive anons and respond thoughtfully to all these young folks in need of advice and support! You're so beautiful for that. A real one, a role model if there ever was one.

Wishing you and everyone frequenting this blog all the best!

(hopefully tumblr doesn't mess up and somehow bungle the anonymity)(if this is too much it's okay to just delete)(hopefully this also doesn't send multiple times, gosh I'm nervous)

Again I come with my hat in hand to apologize for this blog being neglected.

I have good news. With or without trauma of the sort you have endured many woman are raised to mistrust other women and see them as either better with higher standards than we could ever achieve or just not to be trusted because they are spiteful, back stabbing or judgmental. It is so odd but women are told be be friends with other women because men want to have their man friends but at the same time we are not so subtly taught that women make terrible friends.

SO in feeling like you are not good enough or don't belong you are in fact just like many of the other women around you who feel the exact same way.

I too am one who loves to make women laugh or feel good and sometimes when they do, just like a kid who realizes they did something right, I go over board and am bolstered to keep on making jokes and trying to continue the laughter, even when it gets to the awkward stage. The want to impress women can encourage me to take it too far.

The best flirting it to be kind and complimentary while maintaining eye contact with a small smile. Sincerity and genuineness can be seen and felt by most women. So if you find someone worth flirting with, compliment her on something she put effort into (clothes, hair cut, make up, jewelry etc) and mean it. Then stop talking LOL. I tend to keep going. Let her respond and answer simply. You're welcome to her thank you or when she says "really? it is not big deal" say "well i noticed and thought you should know someone noticed". Simple and authentic. If you don't mean it, don't say it.

The key is sort of less is more but not in a "hard to get" kind of way but in a be sincere in what you say and genuinely listen to her reaction so You can respond appropriately kind of way.

Confidence and timing comes with practice.

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong.

Warning- Angst, cheating and hopeful fluff.

When they say love is blind, it truly is—because all the red flags turn colorblind.

You had noticed changes in Bucky’s behavior, the little things he stopped doing. Even when he was in Wakanda, you remained by his side like glue. Slowly, he started to regain his memories, and the old Bucky was back, not completely though.

So when he started to flirt with other girls, or when someone random made a pass at him and he never denied them, you foolishly thought, “He’s just acting like his old 40s self, just like Steve once told me, the evergreen womanizer.”

So, you ignored it.

Ignored it until it got out of hand.

One day, you finally confronted him, but he just chuckled.

"You’re overreacting," he said dismissively. "It’s cute seeing you get jealous."

And, like always, the confrontation ended with a kiss, followed by sex.

Every. Single. Time.

But then, Thanos happened.

The battle took a toll on everyone, but thankfully, you all made it back safe and sound. Tony took semi-retirement, Clint too. Nat handled the tower, Wanda was in and out because Vision was in Wakanda, and Steve, your best friend, your once-upon-a-time crush, was getting ready to return the stones.

"Hey..." you cooed softly.

"Hey!" he beamed at you, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Ready?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Steve glanced down at his compass before looking at you with a sad smile.

"As ready as I’ll ever be."

"Enjoy your dance, Steve. And know where you belong, okay?"

The true meaning behind your words was clear: you were begging him to have his dance with Peggy but to return to you all afterward.

But that didn't happen.

As soon as Steve told Bucky, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone," and Bucky grumbled, "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you?" you knew.

Steve wasn’t coming back.

And just like that, he was gone.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, curled into Bucky’s chest as he held you tightly. He was just as devastated, silent tears soaking into your hair.

Fifteen days later new recruits had joined. You and Nat were training them. Bucky helped here and there, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with the girls.

Nat frowned at you.

"What the hell is up with him?" she muttered.

"He’s just… missing Steve," you lied, forcing a smile. "Everything’s tough for him right now."

Nat didn’t buy it. "Bullshit!" she snapped.

And just like that, she banned Bucky from training the recruits.

Then, he and Sam left on a mission to London.

And that was the beginning of the end.

"Sharon?" Bucky’s eyes widened in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Undercover, Barnes," she smirked. "SHIELD sent me to help you guys."

And just like that, she was part of the mission.

Then, they got separated from Sam.

Their cover almost blew, Sharon thought it was a great idea to kiss Bucky.

And he kissed her back.

One thing led to another, and for the rest of the time in London, they had sex. Every. Single. Day.

When Sam found out, he was furious.

"Buck, what the hell?"

"I’ll tell her," Bucky said nonchalantly.

But not in the way Sam had hoped.

Back at the Tower

Sharon returned with them, claiming she had been there for the mission.

The day Bucky arrived, he went straight to his old room instead of your shared one.

You let him be. It wasn’t unusual for him to need space after a mission.

But then… he started avoiding you.

Your heart ached, a lump forming in your throat every time he brushed past you without a word.

Nat grew concerned.

Sharon was still living in the tower.

Bucky only trained with her now.

Day by day, the love of your life was killing you.

You cried yourself to sleep every night, while Bucky slept far on his side of the bed, only entering the room late at night when he thought you were asleep.

You missed Steve terribly. If he were here, he would’ve knocked some sense into Bucky. Hell, he probably would’ve kicked his ass.

And then came the noises.

Weird, sexual noises from Sharon’s room.

It wasn’t your concern.

Except… it was.

Sam had enough.

"Bucky, tell her, or I will!" Sam warned.

Bucky sighed. He was tired of hiding it. Tired of sneaking around.

So he did it in the cruelest way possible.

That night, you walked into your shared room, only to find Bucky and Sharon making out on your bed.

You stood there, numb, tears flowing freely.

You gave them a few more moments before finally speaking.

"Are you done?"

Bucky sighed, running a hand down his face.

"Sharon, wait in your room." he muttered.

On her way out, she smirked at you, like she had won some competition.

Then, Bucky turned to you, "I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s over. I’m in love with Sharon. I… I packed your bags. Please go back to your old room."

You scoffed, blinking away tears, "Just her, Buck?" your voice was venomous. "What about all the others? The ones you flirted with?"

Bucky was silent. He knew he deserved every bit of your wrath.

"I loved you so deeply, but James, I can’t forgive you," your voice cracked. "Maybe one day in the future. But I stood by your side through everything and yet, you betrayed me."

Bucky swallowed thickly.

"Can you… give me an hour?" you asked quietly.

He nodded and left.

You opened the bags.

Just like you thought, he had only packed the things he gifted you.

You took them all out and placed them on the bed and you repacked.

When Sam and Wanda returned, the truth came out. Sam ripped into Bucky, furious beyond words, how dare he lie.

Wanda sobbed, feeling your suffocating pain through her powers.

Nat was confused at first, believing Bucky’s lie that you two had simply broken up, until Sam called him a liar.

Wanda read your mind and the truth was completely out.

You begged them not to tell Tony.

Tony had worked so hard to trust Bucky. Steve had worked for it. You wouldn’t ruin that.

"Where are you going, Y/N?" Nat asked, her voice gentle.

"I need some time alone," you whispered. "I can’t breathe here..."

"You call us every day, okay?" Wanda warned. "No call, and we will bring you back."

You nodded, hugging her and Nat tightly.

Sam was still furious.

"He should leave, not you," he spat.

"No, Sam. Please," you pleaded. "Be nice to him. For Steve."

With one last look, you left.

Once the team knew the truth, they gave Bucky hell for what he had done.

Did he feel guilty? Yes.

But that didn’t stop him from making things official with Sharon just a week after you left.

Meanwhile, in the Past…

Steve had his dance, but he wasn’t happy.

Peggy had moved on, but that wasn’t what bothered him.

He was worried about you. He opened his compass, staring at the photo inside.

It wasn’t Peggy.

It was you.

Truth was, Peggy was his first love. But you?

You were his home.

He had only stepped back because he saw Bucky falling for you.

But now?

Now, he realized he had made a mistake.

Steve clenched his jaw.

It was time to go back.

Back to you.

Part 2

[billwidoll]

Poison Girl

It was Friday night, and all the teenagers on the Island were at Sn's party, the party was packed, there were kooks and Pogues, Sn didn't care about the richer or poorer thing, you just wanted to be happy.

And there You was talking and greeting everyone at the party, You were known as the poison girl, and the person who gave you that nickname was Rafe Cameron, your close friend.

Everyone called you that, because you were very clever, naughty and spicy. And also very hot, and even though you were Uma Pougue, all the kooks praised you.

You're strolling through your party, until you see Rafe Cameron grabbing a generic blonde.

You and Rafe had a very spicy relationship, and everyone also knows that you are Rafe's favorite crush. You are on their way

"Do I get in the way?" You speak in a sinic voice and when Rafe sees you he immediately breaks into a huge smile.

"you will never disturb my love" Rafe says, jumping the girl who was on his lap.

You give a little smile, already knowing that Rafe He already wants you by his side, Rafe speaks softly into the blonde's ear and without further ado she walks away with a frown on her face.

"Did you dismiss her?" You ask, already knowing the answer, Rafe pulls his neck and brings you closer to him.

"don't act like a fool poison girl" Rafe says, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and guiding you somewhere.

"may I know where we're going Cameron?" You ask sarcastically, you knew Rafe was taking you somewhere private.

Rafe doesn't answer anything and continues walking with you, until you stop at his truck, which was far from your party.

"Have you ever had sex in the car?" Rafe asks you innocently and you laugh.

"I don't think so, until now" you say and Rafe likes it when you're like that, an admitted bitch. And you were his favorite bitch.

Rafe opens the car doors and you get in.

“I brought us a little something” you say, taking out a little white powder that was in your pocket.

Rafe smiles hugely. "I think I love you" Rafe tells you and you both laugh.

You both sniff the powder, and completely stoned, you two start kissing and caressing each other.

Rafe gives your neck several hickeys, and you moan softly, until he goes to your lips again.

"I love those lips of yours so much" Rafe says in a hoarse voice and you let out a light laugh.

You take off your blouse and Rafe helps you, and you release your breasts and Rafe, without thinking twice, he cups one and massages the other with his hand.

One thing you and Rafe liked was that you two didn't care about committing, you both just wanted to have sex. but Rafe had a different look at you lately.

You and Rafe Two make spicy love for 1 hour. You end up sleeping in the car with Rafe.

You wake up and see on your cell phone that it was already 10 am, you turn around and don't see Rafe by your side.

You see someone opening the car door and it was Rafe, with coffees and French bread.

"Poison girl finally woke up" Rafe says, closing the car door and kissing her on the lips.

You think you must be dreaming, when did Rafe start being so nice to you?

"Well... I think I have a really bad hangover" you say with your hands on your head, but then drinking the coffee that Rafe gave you.

"go home and then come to my house, I have the perfect ingredient for your hangover" Rafe says with a smile on his face and you pat him laughing too.

Rafe takes you home, in his car, and the two of you talk and tease each other on the way.

Rafe stops by your house and looks at you.

"It will always be a great pleasure to see you..." Rafe says, running his hands over your face and you smile.

"and... it will always be a pleasure to see your dick too" you say Giving Rafe a kiss on the lips.

"I'm going to give you my ring, so you never forget me" Rafe says, taking off his gold ring and giving it to you, you jump into Rafe's arms happily.

You got out of the car saying goodbye to Rafe, and he saw you heading to your house.

"little do you know you're going to be my wife" Rafe says to himself and smiling.