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

[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.”

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[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.” 

___

Another part here!

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)

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[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 councilor 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 your working with a councilor'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 Pimtover'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, or 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-- nmgh, 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.

-

[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.

[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:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[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.

[leona-hawthorne]

hey love, congratulations on hitting 1k !!! you deserve it all and more ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

can i request a latte art with mattheo, my fav class at hogwarts would probably be potions

xx

babe 🥹🥹 thank you so much!! i hope you like what i came up with, lovely 💌❤️‍🩹

1k celebration navigation latte art

ミ★ LEND A HAND?… mattheo riddle

The low hum of chatter filled Slughorn's Potions classroom as you settled into your seat, carefully placing your textbook and supplies on the table. It wasn't until you caught a faint hint of cologne—dark, woodsy, with an edge of spice—that you realized someone was standing beside you.

"Oh, uh, hey," Mattheo Riddle said, eyebrows raised in casual acknowledgement as he slid into the seat next to you. His usual smirk was replaced by something almost... curious. Surprised even. You had never worked with him in Potions before, so the sudden pairing was a mystery to you too.

"Hi," you replied, slightly wary but unable to ignore the intrigue bubbling up. Mattheo had a reputation—intense, unpredictable, both arrogant and clever, and maybe just a bit infamous for stirring up trouble. But there was something about him, something that made him hard to dismiss completely.

In the dim, smoky warmth of the classroom, you were feeling more confident than usual. Your potion assignment—a tricky brew requiring focus and a steady hand—had turned out a flawless, shimmering shade. Slughorn even gave an approving nod as he passed, the briefest of triumphs you were savoring when Mattheo slid his cauldron closer to yours, brow arched.

“Impressive,” he said, glancing between your potion and the scrawled notes on your parchment. “Mind lending a hand? Mine’s, uh… not quite cooperating.” He tilted his cauldron, revealing a dark, sludgy mess that could hardly be considered potion material.

You tried not to laugh, but the way he leaned forward, hands on the table and eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and challenge, made it hard to resist. “Alright, Riddle,” you said, keeping your tone light but instructive. “You need to start with more of the snakeweed essence; yours looks way too thick.”

“Got it.” He grabbed the bottle and poured with what you could only assume was some kind of disregard for measurements, filling his cauldron with far too much. He gave you a quick, somewhat sheepish look before stirring it around with a bit more care.

“Now, add three drops of the jobberknoll blood—only three,” you stressed, watching as his focus intensified, his brow furrowing in a way that almost made him look sweet. But when you glanced down, you noticed his hand hovering over a different bottle.

“Actually, that’s—” you began, just as he tipped in the wrong ingredient, and—

Too late. He poured the contents straight in, and before you could react, the potion bubbled, frothed, and erupted in a plume of purple smoke. You coughed, blinking as your vision cleared, only to find yourself covered in a fine, shimmering dust. Your hair, your robes, your face—all sparkling with what looked suspiciously like glitter.

Mattheo stared, eyes wide and jaw slack as his hand flew to cover his mouth. "Oh... my god," he said, voice filled with genuine horror. "I... I didn't... uh... wow."

You just blinked, lips pressed together in a thin line. "I think 'wow' sums it up nicely."

"Merlin’s bloody beard,” he muttered, voice tight with the shock of what he’d done. His hand dropped from his mouth, revealing a slightly horrified but unmistakably amused grin. “I swear I’m not usually this…” He trailed off, searching for the right word, “…incompetent or… reckless.”

"Oh, I'm sure you're exactly this reckless," you teased, unable to hold back your laughter as he looked at you with an expression somewhere between mortification and amusement.

Mattheo rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling as he met your eyes. "Alright, you caught me. But—" He leaned in slightly, a spark of mischief lighting up his dark gaze. "How about I make it up to you? Let me take you out. No potions, no explosions. Just... I dunno, us, maybe a butterbeer. Could even be a glitter-free zone."

You blinked, unsure if he was kidding. “You think one potion explosion warrants a date?”

His grin widened, taking on a bit of that charming cockiness you’d heard so much about. “I’m saying I owe you. Let me make it right.” He leaned in, tone softening, the laughter still lurking in his gaze. “Besides, you never know. I might actually be tolerable.”

You arched an eyebrow, pretending to consider. "I'll agree on one condition."

"Name it," he said instantly.

"You owe me two drinks if I find even one speck of glitter on me by the end."

He grinned, nodding. "Deal. Glitter-free and fully charmed, promise."

[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?

[americas1suiteheart]

I Think I Love You?

James Wilson x Reader

Summary; After working together for so long, Y/n finally starts to realize just how much she loves Wilson.

Notes; This is a fem reader but it can be read as a gender neutral reader, too. House M.D brainrot has been corrupting me lately..

Warnings; Mild language, "prescription" drugs, angst, pining, and innuendos.

Word Count; 3,802

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"Hey, you! I need you to help out Taub and Kutner with patients in the ICU hall." House shouts from behind you.

You turn around and sigh, glaring at him.

"House. You've known me for god knows how long, use my name. And no, I'm busy, I have stuff to do over here,"

House hobbles over and scoffs. "No you don't. Now go down and help those poor, poor doctors," He said, making a "sad" face.

He was right. You had nothing to do so far other than paperwork that you definitely didn't want to do right now, but would definitely rather than have to deal with House's antics.

"Fine, fine. But-"

"L/n! I need your help with a patient. There are no other nurses available and-" Wilson jogged towards you and House, though quickly being cut off.

"Nope! Uh-uh-uh, I called dibs on her first. L/n, go help Taub and Kutner." House pointed his cane at you.

"What? There are plenty of nurses down there and I'm pretty sure that Kutner and Taub can handle whatever is going on by themselves. They're more responsible than you are!"

You watch the two bicker back and forth, already feeling a headache come on just by looking at them.

Leaving would be the best idea. Avoid your paperwork, avoid House, avoid Wilson. Avoid them acting like a divorced couple fighting over a child.

You decided to walk away, them clearly not noticing just by hearing them continuing to argue.

You open the door to Cuddy's office, not even bothering to knock just due to working for her for so long.. and as well as not caring.

"What happened with House now?" Cuddy asked, looking up from a file to meet your eyes as you tiredly stood at her doorway.

"Not only House, but Wilson too. House wants me to help Taub and Kutner in the ICU, and Wilson wants me to help with a patient of his. Now they're fighting on 'who gets to have me'. I just needed a break from it real quick," You pinched the bridge of your nose as you sat on her couch and hunched over.

For fourty-some year old men, they sure acted like complete children.

"As long as they don't find you and bother me about it, I'm completely fine with you staying in here. But why don't you just lock yourself in your office?"

"That'd be the first place they'd check when they realize I'm gone. Even if I lock myself in there, House won't stop bugging until he gets what he wants." You sigh.

Cuddy hums as she sits back and organizes her files.

It only took mere minutes for Wilson and House to spot you through the windows of Cuddy's office and barge in, interrupting both yours and her, short lived peace.

"I need L/n in the ICU, stat!" House demands, hobbling in with Wilson following behind.

"No. There are plenty of nurses down there. I need her up here to help me with a patient in radiology," Wilson argued immediately after.

You and Cuddy sigh. Unfortunately you were right, House wouldn't leave you alone. But what made it even worse was the same urgency Wilson had.

Maybe if you left like last time they would give up? No, not with House's stubbornness you wouldn't.

"Why do you need L/n specifically? Can't you just get Foreman or Thirteen to help? They weren't doing anything the last time I checked 15 minutes ago." Cuddy asked, looking at the two with disappointment.

The gears turned in the two's heads, thinking of why they wanted your help specifically, inevitably and unfortunately, House was the first to come up with his reason.

"Because she has a nice ass?" House shrugged, earning a glare from you and Wilson.

"Not a valid reason. House, you could "borrow" her momentarily for whatever it is you need so badly." Cuddy sighed once more, dismissing the three of you.

"Wait, wait, what? You just said House's reason wasn't valid, though? Where does that leave me?"

You look at Wilson, then up at Cuddy from your spot in disbelief, "Dr. Cuddy, I'm not just some-"

Cuddy gave you a look and you sighed, getting up from the firm couch to leave the office with House and Wilson.

You stomp on House's left foot, earning a grunt from him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For that stupid, very unprofessional, comment. Keep those words to yourself at least." You huff, crossing your arms.

"Oh, come on. Anyone else here would agree with me. Right, Wilson?"

Wilson stares dumbfoundedly at him with his mouth hanging open, his cheeks and ears turning a bright red. "T-that's a highly inappropriate thing to ask." He stutters, shifting his standing position.

House shoots a wink with a smirk on his face before hobbling away.

You smile and roll your eyes, following behind him.

You turn your head around to see Wilson following behind you.

"Where're you going? You're supposed to be on your side of the hospital, aren't you?" You laugh.

"I'm getting lunch." He shrugs.

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"James, it's 10 am.." You stop and turn to him, crossing your arms and raising a brow.

Wilson's heart skipped a beat with the use of his first name, though he wouldn't admit that.

"Well, then do you want to get lunch with me later on?"

"Sure thing. I'll see you in a bit if not sooner depending on how long House will yap on and on about his nonsense. 'It's not this, it's not that, it's not Lupus, run tests that don't need to be ran, blah blah blah, I'm on drugs, my leg hurts.'" You mock House.

You and Wilson laugh and continue to walk together.

You sigh, "You should get back to what you were doing, now. Don't want to keep your patient waiting,"

Wilson looks at you with a puzzled look on his face. "What patient?"

You raise a brow, "You had a patient you *begged* me to help you with, remember?"

"O-ohh, you mean that patient, yup, I'll uh, I'll get right to them. Right now," Wilson spills.

You grin at him and his newfound awkwardness. 'I kinda like it when he gets like that.'

Wait.

What?

"So, see you at lunch?" Wilson says, stopping in his tracks.

"See you at lunch, Wilson." You smile before departing ways.

What on earth.

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"This is what you needed me for, House? Are you kidding me?" You glare at him.

After following him and listening to him yap, you go into the ICU to find only 3 patients that Taub and Kutner had already taken care of.

He just wanted to annoy you and waste your time.

"Hmm, I guess they were able to handle it. Anyways-" House says as he pops 2 Vicodin in his mouth, an obvious hint of sarcasm highly apparent.

Though, when wasn't he.

"Seriously, House. Why'd you come to bother me?"

"Why do you think?"

"Because you're annoying and had nothing else to do?" You huff with a smirk.

"Almost! I think- and when I say think, I am sure of it- that you have a thing for James Wilson, the head of Oncology." House says loudly, leaning towards you, as if he were announcing it to the whole ICU.

Your eyes widen and you suddenly feel every single part of your face start to become increasingly warm, other nurses in the area looking at you and House.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You whisper angrily to him.

House gives a shit eating grin, "Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm saying that you've got the hots for Wilson."

"How much Vicodin are you already on now?" You ask.

"You get red, sweaty, your breathing is off, you don't talk, and you glance or look at him every chance you can get. You're absolutely pathetic at hiding it. If Wilson weren't so dumb he would've definitely known. And I've had 6 of these in the past 2 hours if that's your concern." House scoffs.

"Why do you have to over analyse everything? How do you know I'm not sick with some untreatable disease?"

"Because I know you, but even anyone that doesn't would know, because you're pathetic." House hobbles off to the ICU room Taub was currently residing in.

"..Anyway, you have a new helper. Do whatever you do while L/n does the rest of the work for you." House announces.

"House! What the hell do you-" House leaves and closes the door before you could pursuit him.

You take a deep breath in and out, pinching the bridge of your nose and turn to Taub. "Okay. What happened with this guy?"

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You loved helping out patients, but sometimes it was boring, and this was one of the days where it was boring. You and Taub just changed IV's and checked patient's blood pressure and heart bpm. Nothing like what House had exaggerated about.

And finally, it was your lunch break. 1:06 pm. You stood in the lunch line and grabbed your usual food, the cafeteria servers already knowing what you'd get. Simply just a sandwich with black forest ham, sourdough bread and horse radish. And a bag of chips and chocolate chip cookie as a small "reward" to yourself for not killing House yet.

You pay and grab your tray, heading to an empty table, beginning to eat.

"Hey," Wilson says, sitting across from you and putting his food down.

"Hey, Wilson. What's up?" You smile at him.

"Me right now." House says before Wilson could respond, taking a seat next to you and grabbing a bite of your sandwich.

He was really getting on your nerves now.

You stomped on his foot the second time today, earning the same noise and look from him as he did earlier this morning.

"Jeez. Little feisty today, aren't you?" House says.

You glare at him and he sticks his tounge out to you in response. Like a child.

Wilson clears his throat, "..So, what happened in the ICU that House needed you so desperately for?"

You groan and give House a dirty look. "There wasn't anything serious. Just changing IV's and the boring stuff."

"Wouldn't have been if Cuddy had given you to me." Wilson mumbles before taking a bite of his salad.

"Hmm?"

Wilson had been acting odd lately. Even more odd than House already was and you still can't quite place your finger on what it was.

House nudges your arm and gives you a look you definitely don't like and very obviously points to Wilson, not even bothering to hide what he was doing.

"What? What did I do?" Wilson asks, furrowing his eyebrows, making him look like a confused puppy.

God, you loved when he looked like that.

You shift in your seat, trying to stop yourself from going red.

"Better question; what didn't you do?" House says.

Wilson huffs and continues to eat his salad, clearly frustrated about something.

This was supposed to be a you and Wilson thing after all. Maybe that was the reason, because it sure definitely bothered you.

"Whoof, the tension here is high and it's unfortunately not sexual. I don't have the time for that. I'm going to go and relax in my office or bug Foreman maybe. You guys are boring." House rolls his eyes and slowly gets up from his seat. Leaving you and Wilson alone together.

You suddenly didn't know what to say.

Shit, maybe House was right..

You take another bite of your sandwich to occupy yourself and not make any conversation, in fear of saying something stupid.

If it weren't for House telling you something you probably wouldn't be acting this way in the first place. Goddamn it.

"It's quiet when House isn't here to disturb the peace,"

You look up at Wilson to see him finishing up his food and cleaning up.

"Honestly, I just think he's here to bug, but sometimes you can have an actual intelligent conversation with him."

You laugh, "Yeah, an intelligent conversation when he's not high."

Wilson chuckles, crinkling his nose.

You smile. He looked so cute.

--------------------------------------

It had been weeks since you'd had that conversation with House and you rapidly started to realize your feelings for him. It felt wrong, of course since not only was he one of your best friends, but also your colleague. It would be highly inappropriate to even talk about what you felt for him.

So, you got a "bright" idea and figured that maybe you would be able to rid of these feelings by avoiding him. Can't have feelings for someone you no longer speak or interact with, right?

Taking late or early lunches, sometimes even just not eating, showing up to work earlier or later than he does, straying away from areas he's typically in, staying out of your office and busying yourself with things where he typically is never in.

You thought it was working. You no longer had any of those more than PG-13 thoughts of him, you no longer stayed up late at night trying to get him out of your head, you no longer even thought about him altogether.

You were in your office sorting out some paperwork, simple patient forms and bills you didn't have enough time to do at home, separating them into neat little piles despite your mind being a mess with stress. But you had a CD mix on right now and that seemed to silence most of the stress. Key word: most.

*knock, knock, knock, knock, knock* you hear before someone barges in.

"What's wrong with you?"

House. Of course it had to be House to be bothering you right now, immedietly disrupting your peace.

You sigh. It always was a sigh with this man, it was hard not to.

"Wow. Is the Greg House actually being concerned and sympathetic for one of his friends? This has to be a miracle!" You say sarcastically, still looking at your paperwork.

"Correction: colleague. And no, there's just something wrong with you." House corrects.

"Nothing is wrong with me, and if there was; I would only tell a friend what it was." You roll your eyes, looking up at House to make it clear that you didn't want him in your office.

"If there was nothing wrong with you then you wouldn't be saying that if there was you would only tell a friend, would you?"

"God, you're so annoying how does Wilson put up with you?"

"That brings me to my point. Wilson. That's the first time you've even mentioned him in weeks, let alone talk to him. Now, what is wrong with you?"

"Everyday is a fucking migraine with you, House. Get out so I can finish what I'm doing. My job." You dismiss him.

"Get over yourself and admit that there's something wrong with you. You know there is-" House says as he hobbles over to your desk, before being interrupted by knocking on the door.

"L/n- oh, uh, am I interrupting something here?" Wilson says, you shooting your head to the door to look at him.

"Yes," "No," You and House say at the same time.

"I just finished up what I was saying, she's all yours Wilson!" House says before leaving.

"But, House!-" You shout as House slams the door to your office.

You suddenly feel claustrophobic in your own space, for once wishing that it was just House bugging you instead of being stuck in the same room alone with Wilson.

"L/n.."

"I'm sorry, Wilson, but I have some stuff I need to do." You quickly say, grabbing some random files to make some suddenly "urgent" copies of.

"L/n, please-"

You rush out of your office with the papers in your hands, making your way to the furthest printers in the building.

"L/n!" Wilson shouts, trying to keep up with you.

Nurses and other doctors turned to look at the scene, finding it odd especially because they haven't seen any interaction between the two of you for weeks.

You began to walk faster, only for Wilson to catch up with you and startle you, making you drop your papers all over the floor.

"Shit.." You mutter under your breath as you look down at the dropped papers.

"Shit, I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, Wilson. Just- just go, please?" You begin to pick up the scattered papers, other doctors and nurses basically jumping over them.

"Please, L/n. You haven't talked to or even looked at me in weeks. Can we just- ..talk?" Wilson says with pleading eyes.

You suddenly realised just how stupid you were to try and ignore him. How did you do that for this long,

You sigh and quickly pick up the remaining papers, "Fine. Just- let's go to my office."

Wilson let's out a sigh of relief, offering to help you up once you'd finished, but you decline.

Wilson followed behind, practically looking like a kicked puppy, even when you had both arrived inside of your office.

You quickly closed your blinds and locked your door to the balcony that you were just lucky enough to share with House.

You inhaled sharply before letting out a deep exhale, going behind your desk and looking towards Wilson who was standing in front of your door awkwardly.

"What did you want?" You didn't want to sound rude, you just wanted him to leave so you couldn't think any of the thoughts that flooded your mind. You looked everywhere but at him, trying to distract yourself.

"I- I just want to talk to you, L/n.." Wilson seemed upset, not in an aggravated way, but in one of sadness. "We don't talk anymore, or even see eachother in the hallways anymore. I feel like you've been avoiding me. You even talk to House, and that's saying something,"

House. Oh, God, what did he tell him this time.

"...I miss talking to you. I miss our conversations. I miss you. Please, at least tell me if I did anything wrong. Something, anything?" Wilson begged. He looked so cute like that.

"Wilson, I-" You couldn't even finish your own sentence. You couldn't tell him why you've been avoiding him. It would only make him avoid you, though it would be deserved. It was a lose-lose situation..

Maybe him not talking to you would be a good thing.

"..You did nothing wrong, Wilson. It's all my fault I'm sorry. I just- ugh, fuck.." You were struggling to say it, let alone think about it. You were totally fucked.

Wilson looked at you curiously, "Y/n, anything you do or say won't change anything, I promise you. I just- please, L/n.."

You look at him with anxiousness and fear boiling in the pit of your stomach. Your legs began to feel like jelly and you were sure you were about to collapse. 'Just say it to get it over with.'

"I think I love you.." You just blurted it out. You didn't even put any thought of how to try and make it sound less.. creepy. Those five words, which could've easily been described so much better were all that came out.

Wilson looked dumbfounded. You'd never seen that look on his face.

'Fuck. I just ruined everything. He lied to me.'

You were already scared out of your wits, and this didn't make it any better. You began to feel a lump in your throat that pained you to swallow each time, you were suddenly having a hard time breathing, and your fingernails were digging into the palms of your hands, making blood draw.

Wilson heaved a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily before smiling. A genuine smile, that was.

"Oh God, I thought I did something wrong," Wilson was relieved, not only at the fact that you weren't upset with him, but because you loved him.

Anyone else in the entire faculty or even outside of work could've told him the same thing with explanation and he would react differently. But with you, it made butterflies in his stomach and sudden warm cheeks appear.

He loved you too.

"I thought you were upset with me, that you didn't want to be around me anymore because of something I must've done, but this.. this is so much better." Wilson sighed, walking to you before taking your slightly bloodied hands into his.

You perk up and tilt your head to the side, confused at the totally different response from him. His expression changed from one of sadness and fear, into one of relief and awe, making you feel so much more relaxed.

"..gosh, we need to fix this up," he mumbled to himself as he examined your hands, grabbing the first aid kit from your shelf and getting everything to fix the small self inflicted incisions.

You stared at him in awe as he fixed you up. He wasn't disgusted or off put by your statement.

Wilson turned over your hands and placed a kiss on top of each one before looking at you, his hands still holding yours gently.

"I think I love you, too.." Wilson stated, his smile getting bigger and his cheeks getting redder as he said it.

You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding and that lump stuck in your throat was now gone. He looked at you with those soft brown eyes that you could just get stuck looking at.

Before you knew it, you were leaning over your desk, one of your hands on his cheek, cupping it gently and vice versa with him. Both of your lips fit perfectly together like puzzle pieces, and you could get a faint taste of sweetened coffee on his lips.

The kiss was gentle yet full of passion, hunger, and obvious bottled up feelings. It was something that you'd never experienced before. It was beautiful.

You pull away slowly, opening your eyes to see a flustered James Wilson, his lips swollen and lightly coated in saliva, presumably yours. He looked so gorgeous.

"You're amazing, Y/n,"

You smile and press your forehead to his.

"You too, James,"

"God, I love when you call me that." Wilson groans.

"James,"

Wilson licks his lips and goes around your desk, now holding your waist with one hand, and the back of your neck with the other.

"God, Y/n.."

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Okay, first Wilson fic? What do y'all think? I kinda did a little research for this, but am also just used to how most of the hospitals usually work. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed it! It took me a while for me to finish this one, but it was pretty fun.

[heart2beom]

call you later

pairing: beomgyu x f!reader

synopsis: beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street?

you're in on the little fun too, until you manage to get soobin's number. because suddenly, beomgyu's a debbie downer—for whatever reason.

genre: comedy, fluff, best friends to lovers

a/n: late beomgyu bday fic...and its cheesy as hell 😭😭 anyways, nobody understands how happy i got after finding these icons, its literally perfect. this is exactly how he looks in the fic !!!! also lol this is practically me gushing over beomgyu while writing, its so self indulgent

You don't know how this became topic of conversation for the hundredth time this week. After the events of the failed attempt of trying to get your upperclassman's number, Yeonjun—Beomgyu has been talking nonstop on how he's the most qualified person in your life that could hand you flirting tips, completely dismissing the fact that he's been single for the past two years.

He stops walking when you remind him that very necessary piece of information he seems to forget a little too often. "It's by choice! I'm single by choice!" you hear him yell. You don't pay him any mind, scrolling through your phone as you continue to walk.

He catches up to you rather quickly, hands in pockets as he walks backwards facing you, brown hair prickling his eyes because of the wind. "Do you seriously believe I can't get dates?"

You shove your phone back in your pocket, providing him with your full attention.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" you enjoy how his hand shoot up to go over his chest, fauxing hurt with a huge pout—you've been telling him he'd do well majoring in theatre arts.

"You've lost your charm Choi, your age's getting to you."

He cracks a smile of disbelief, before continuing on, "I'm twenty-one not eighty-one knucklehead."

Beomgyu turns from facing you, walking by your side again. He clicks his tongue before saying, "You'd think that the closest people to Beomgyu would know him by now."

"Oh no, you're speaking in third person again." you whine.

He'd do this entire thing of narrating his life when he deems it necessary—which really should be never. It's also another reason why you're convinced theatre is his second calling—second to his very dramatic declaration of love to music.

"Yeah, because my best friend in the entire world thinks I'm a loser!"

He wasn't too far off. "Okay, I'll be honest. I do think you're a loser—"

"You're a loser." he retaliates.

"I was just about to compliment you!"

"How was I supposed to know? You don't follow an insult with a compliment, that's like, against the rules of socializing!"

You opt to narrow your eyes at Beomgyu instead of replying, taking the silence route. Beomgyu returns your glare, before huffing.

A few steps without anyone speaking until, "The compliment..." he mutters around a fake cough.

You snap your head to the brunette, lips slightly parted at his shameless attempt of getting a compliment. You punch his shoulder lightly before laughing a little in disbelief but also in a familiar knowing way—Beomgyu's always been like this.

When he gives you a shrug paired with childish pout as to say 'it wouldn't hurt', you give in, sighing. "I was about to say that I think you're handsome but you ruined that dipshit."

It's quiet again, and usually, you'd look to your side, trying to relish in your friend's reaction — it's always so reactive, animated in a way that makes the receiving end feel happy despite the context — but you don't, instead, your eyes were focused on the path you were walking on. It was wide, the greenery of spring occupying both sides, aftermath of the disastrous, lonely winter completely dissolved.

"You do?"

You almost laugh before his tone set on you a little more; his voice was lower, and you felt his eyes hesitantly looking at you, almost like he's genuinely looking for your affirmation.

You choose to look back at him, pursing your lips as you pretend to study the features you've grown accustomed to for the past five years.

You do think he's handsome—it's a given, even now, his bare skin devoid of any noticeable acne scars, lively and clear, his lashes—though a contrast to his boyish charm—so pretty and long you often find yourself feel a little envious whenever your finger would brush over them in awe. And god, if you could even begin to describe the way his lips—

He scoffs, turning away from your stare, pulling you out of your own thoughts. You blink a few times, before also tearing your eyes from the man walking beside you.

You went on too long without saying anything, how embarrassing. Clearing your throat you say, "I do."

He sighs. "You took too long to say that, I don't believe you."

You roll your eyes—you know what he wants. "I think you're handsome, Beomgyu."

You're not taken by surprise when he throws his arm over your shoulders, a teasing smile annoyingly plastered on his face as he shoves it a little too close, forcing you to look at him — you wouldn't complain anyway. "Awe, is little Y/N realizing Beomgyu's the love of her life, her soulmate, her beloved—"

"You're pushing it," you whine trying to push his face away, though the smile on your face is hard to hide. "I just called you handsome, it's not like I'm blind."

To the wanderers around you, the ones sitting on benches enjoying the view of cherry blossoms, they'd assume Beomgyu was your boyfriend with the way he had his arm comfortably laying off your shoulder.

"I'm not just a pretty face Y/N. In fact, I'm so cool that I could get the number of the first girl that passes me."

"No, no you couldn't."

Beomgyu naturally takes this as a challenge when he scoffs, finally removing his arm from you, "Watch me."

That's how it started. The ten minute stroll to get the park's infamous ice cream turning into something way bigger than it originally was.

"Her." you say, one hand on the rough bark of the tree you both were hiding behind, another used to discreetly point at the woman who had a child on her lap, clearly busy as she yelled on the phone.

Beomgyu was directly behind you, his head over yours, as he tries to get a good look of who you were pointing at.

"Are you crazy? She has a kid!" he whisper shouts, though the situation really didn't call for it. The woman was at the least three yards away from the tree you guys were behind.

"I thought love knows no bounds."

That seems to get him, using his beloved philosophy against him.

"It—it does if she's married!"

"You're so traditional. People can raise their kids on their own."

When he doesn't budge, unconvinced of taking such a chance, you turn to face him. Which is a mistake because now you realize how close he was. You clear your throat, dismissing the way the proximity was weirdly effecting you. "You lost. Bet's done."

"What? No! I have seventeen numbers and you have like...five. You lost, fair and square."

"This isn't fair! You made me ask an old man for his number, I had to stay there for twenty entire minutes just so he could type it in!"

"I'm not going Y/N, nothing you can do can convince me." he says, eyes shut as he childishly crosses his arms, head turned to the side, chin up high.

You glare at him before shoving your hand down your jeans pocket for spare change—surprisingly feeling paper. When you pull out the mysterious object, your eyes widen at seeing a twenty dollar bill. You've never gotten this lucky before!

It was too late to shove it back in because Beomgyu opens an eye to peek at what you were doing, noticing the bill you had in your hand.

You look at the boy, who was wide-eyed, then back to your very lucky money. "Fuck..." you groan, slapping the bill on his palm, internally mourning the loss of your money.

"You work miracles Y/N." he says cheekily. You deadpan, which gets the man holding up his hands as defense, flashing the money he just got out of you, with a teasing smile before he proudly turns to approach the woman.

Was that even worth your money?

Chewing slightly on your bottom lip, you observe through narrowed eyes—you can't really make out what he's saying, but the woman's brows were furrowed. Not a good sign.

A smirk makes way on your face as you lean against the tree, arms crossed.

Beomgyu still wears a smile, saying something again. You think that's the end of it, he apologized for bothering her and failed— but that isn't what happens.

Your smirk slowly falls when you see him typing something in his phone.

There's no way.

Before leaving, he gives the kid on the woman's lap a high five.

No way.

"You got her number?!" you shout in disbelief when he's finally in front of you.

"Keep it down!"

You're impatient, waiting for his response to your question, but with the way he had his chin raised proudly, hands in pocket, you got the answer.

You blink a few times, trying to piece your shock together. "But how? She's married! She—"

He gasps before pointing an accusatory finger at you. "I knew you saw that ring! You were trying to embarrass me!" you don't reply, instead just crossing your arms, huffing. "But see who came out on top? This guy." he turns his finger from you to himself, a smile of accomplishment spread on his face.

"Okay, I get it. But is she seriously cheating on her spouse while having a kid? That's fucking messed up."

"I just asked her where I could get the best cakes. She said BonBon's Bakery, which is, like, thirty minutes away."

You narrow your eyes, mouth wide—he can't just do this! "You didn't get her number! You—you tricked me!"

"Yes I did, and I'm proud." He says, walking to go behind you again, searching for your next victim.

You sigh, "Why'd you ask that anyway?"

"What, the cake? Because my birthday's soon idiot."

Oh yeah, his birthday.

"Go up to... the the blonde one! Wait, no, nevermind."

You furrow your brows, "Why'd you just take that back?"

He's quick to reply, "No reason. Oh! Go up to him."

You don't bother to look at who he was pointing at now, instead focusing your attention on the blonde Beomgyu had previously pointed at.

He had a pair of sony headphones, walking, eyes glued to his phone. "Soobin." the name slips out your lips absentmindedly as your eyes follow his figure.

"The random guy I'm pointing at is Soobin?" Beomgyu asks scratching his head, playing dumb.

No, the random guy he's pointing at is a middle aged man with a bald spot. You get into action, quickly walking at the direction of Soobin, who was by now, very far.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Beomgyu's hand is on your wrist, making you turn your head back to him. You tilt your head. "Going up to Soobin and getting his number?"

He breaks into an uneasy smile. "But you know him. That's an unfair advantage."

"I don't know him, you know him. I'm playing on fair grounds." you say, a little confused on why he was caring about advantages anyway—Beomgyu had double the numbers you had, he was winning.

When he doesn't let go, you decide to just shake his loose hold on you, chuckling awkwardly, giving him one last look before trying to catch up to the blonde.

Beomgyu never felt so much nervousness as he waited behind the tree, watching the scene unfold between you and his other best friend, Soobin.

His eyes fall down to see the scattered dandelions in the grass. He gulps before quickly bending down to pluck one out. It's a little childish—the way he holds the flower close to his lips, blowing air with all his force, making sure the dandelion is devoid of any white fluff. Wishing that your beyond terrible flirting skills would be so unflattering that Soobin would reject you.

Which is not the case.

When Soobin bashfully waves, a small smile on his face as he turns away from you, walking away—Beomgyu finds out at the age of twenty-one, that wishing upon a dandelion was a hoax. It's further rubbed in his face when you skip towards him, a wide smile on your face.

He drops the dead flower, pursing his lips as he steps on it.

"Guess who just got a number." you sing-song, waving your phone at him.

"Haha, congrats." he manages to smile, rolling his eyes.

"I'm going to catch up to you and win, be scared." you threaten though, your tone a little too excited, full of pride. Was this how Beomgyu felt on an hour basis? Because god, does it feel great.

"I think we should stop here for today."

You snap your head to Beomgyu, brows furrowed. "What? No!"

"We've been here for more than two hours, my legs are tired." he whines with a pout.

You take notice of your surroundings— the once blue sky was now a deep shade of orange, the park was a lot more empty, only a couple people walking down the path.

Yeah, you should definitely go home now.

"We're ending this formally tomorrow, 6PM sharp. Whoever has the most numbers gets fifty from the loser."

He nods before holding out his hand. "Deal."

You shake it, "Deal."

Though you smiled, you couldn't help but feel as if Beomgyu's mood had taken a complete 180.

You dismiss it—he probably is just tired.

Movie Sundays—epitome of the typical movie nerd enthusiasts gathering around one TV screen on a specific day, in a specific time and binging 70's shit that is no longer relevant in today's society.

When you open your door, it's typical Beomgyu with his plaid shirt over his plain white one, barging into your apartment like he was your roommate and comfortably following through his usual routine.

"Take off your shoes you hooligan." It's a little ridiculous how often you have to remind him, but that seems to be apart of the routine too.

"It's literally just crocs."

"Yeah, crocs that stepped in dog shit on the way here."

"You're so dramatic." he mumbles, but still takes them off anyway. You would've shot back with a 'funny coming from you' but routine calls, so, you let him go.

You go to your bedroom, fetching a couple pillows before going back to the couch.

Movie Sundays often ended with both of you losing track of time, slipping into deep sleep the moment the clock struck midnight.

It was never your intention to make this movie ordeal into a sleepover on your couch, but that's usually what ended up happening, so preparing for it is always a good idea. Waking up with sore necks proved to be the official worst way to start a day—you'd know.

It's also the reason why Movie Sundays are now held on Saturdays—the change being made around three years ago. It's ridiculous, some would think that by now, you'd call it Movie Saturdays but Beomgyu said that it'd 'take away the magic' if you did — whatever that meant.

"Did you run out of water bottles?" he yells from the kitchen.

"I don't know, check the fridge!"

Beomgyu was tasked with getting the snacks and some water, you didn't have to do much compared to him but he seemed to enjoy getting the autonomy so nobody minded.

"Your fridge is so dystopian." Beomgyu comments, plopping beside you on the couch, throwing you a packet of cheespuffs.

"Wow, how incredibly nice of you to say as a guest."

"I'm being serious though, you have ten rows of mountain dew and ...one egg carton? You're like the stereotypical college student"

You're focused on finding something to watch instead of paying any mind to Beomgyu's rambles—who really tended to say anything. Like right now, when he pinches your cheek seemingly out of nowhere.

"You're so cute." he coos like you were a newborn baby—it truly felt as if Beomgyu was experiencing effects of anesthesia during the process of you finding a movie. You send him a death glare but that only spurs him on as he whines, "See? That was so cute"

You ignore him, finally making the decision of what movie could start off your move marathon. You nudge his shoulder, tearing his attention from his phone. "Hey, how about this one?"

The good thing about picking Beomgyu for your movie ventures was that you guys had similar tastes.

Romcoms. The classic cliched genre that is filled with the worlds cheesiest tropes.

"Yeah, that's good."

Usually it'd start off with Beomgyu making comments every few minutes, but then they'd die down after the third movie which is exactly why you leave the best movies for last—his yelling would've destroyed your watching experience.

Beomgyu tended to be the one laying his head on the armrest so it didn't take long for his leg to be sprawled on top of your lap—serving as a blanket for you.

You don't mind, focused on the scene playing until the buzz of your phone catches your attention. You hesitantly look at your phone, then Beomgyu, then your phone.

It was like an established rule to be off phones when Move Sundays was in motion, it's just that nobody had decided to say it aloud. But the whines that would come from one person when the other was busy on their phone during a movie served as enough reminder that using your phone was frowned upon.

But you couldn't help it. You've been expecting a call from Soobin for the past week, the day you got his number long over. Any notification from your phone tempted you. Foolishly you'd think it was finally Soobin, but that was never the case.

You were starting to believe that he didn't straight up reject you because of his politeness—which really just felt like shit. Were you seriously that pitiful?

Those thoughts dissipate into nothingness when you see the text notification on your lock screen. Texts from someone you've been readily expecting for the entire week.

[soobin, now]: hi :)

[soobin, now]: sorry for not calling or texting you i was just...

When you click on the notification, you expect to see that the end of the text is 'busy' or something of the sort but instead it's...nervous.

Sorry for not texting you I was just nervous? Why would he be nervous?

You can't help but snort, the ends of your lips curling up at the text.

Before you could quickly come up with a response, Beomgyu's face is right next to yours, narrowing his eyes at your phone screen.

"Who're you texting?"

"Fuck!" you shout, instinctively throwing your phone in shock. Thankfully, the phone lands on a chair instead of the floor, and your breathing is back.

You snap your head to Beomgyu to give him a piece of your mind but then... you remember you technically were the one breaking the unsaid rules of Movie Sundays. You collect your anger, sighing before you hold up a tight lipped smile, "It was an emergency."

When he quirks an eyebrow, you further continue to add onto your lie as you go to get your phone. "My grandpa got a heart attack, it's insane."

He rolls his eyes. "You have a grandpa named Soobin?"

Of course he was fast enough to read the contact name.

"Why'd you even ask if you knew?" you ask, sitting on the couch with your phone in hand.

He ignores your question, eyes focused on the TV. "Just put your phone away, you can text him back later."

You give him a look before shutting off your phone and crossing your arms as you tune back into the movie. Or at least somewhat. You're not sure what's up with Beomgyu and the mention of Soobin—at first, you think it's because they had a fight, but you saw them hanging out just fine the other day.

It was weird, but you shake your head out of your own thoughts, dismissing the boy's crankiness as something you really just made up in your head.

That is, until you decide to check your phone again while he goes through a catalog of movies.

"Are you guys dating?"

The sudden question paired with a dry laugh of his own makes you furrow your eyebrows, clicking on your phone to close it. "Hey, what's your problem?"

"What do you mean what's my problem? I don't have any problems."

You roll your eyes, groaning a little. "Did you guys fight or something?"

"No."

You peer at him for a second, urging him to add something more. It works, as his eyes look at you for a second before going back to the TV. He shrugs, "I don't know, it's just weird."

"What is?"

"You getting close to Soobin."

You're even more confused now...wouldn't someone want their best friends to get along? And be friends?

"I don't get it..." you mumble, still looking at him as he avoids any sort of eye contact. "How's that weird?"

He sighs, shoulders slumping. "He likes you."

When you don't respond, he continues, feeling his mouth dry the more he says it, "Like, like-likes you. He says it's love at first sight."

Ever since his best friend had personally confided in him that he might have the biggest crush on his other best friend, A.K.A the love of his life, Beomgyu had done everything in his power to keep you from formally meeting the blonde. Which included a lot of running and a lot of excuses he had to keep up with.

One, because Soobin was totally your type—Beomgyu would know. Two, because he doesn't think he can survive you falling in love with his best friend. It'd be the ultimate awkward situation. Third wheeling would be his daily routine, and it sends him shuddering at the thought.

You laugh, still trying to piece the information together. "What? Wait. How—why is that weird? I mean, okay. He likes me, so what?"

Beomgyu snaps his head to you, almost as if to tell you 'you should know why!' but he quickly controls his facial expressions because you don't know why. Instead he just opts to pout as he tries to explain. "It's weird because—because, like...um..."

"You're—you're going to hurt his feelings just because of a stupid challenge, that's very cruel Y/N." he says, childishly crossing his arms.

"I'm not going to hurt him...you know I'd never do that!"

"Well, you don't feel the same way he does. It'd be like you're leading him on."

"I mean...I can feel the same way he does, if time allows. I think he's pretty cool, seriously." You try to reassure him, but it has the opposite effect. Beomgyu's eyes droop, almost resembling one of a puppy as he looks up at you.

"You—you like him?"

"I said I think he's cool dummy. And that I think I can learn to like him."

"That's not how liking people works."

You barely control the urge to roll your eyes as your phone was above your face, scrolling through your social media mindlessly. "Sure it does. Taking the time to know someone is basically learning to like them."

It's silent as Beomgyu finally picks a movie, the familiar soundtrack giving you the hint that it's West Side Story.

"Well, maybe you could learn to like me too." It was barely audible over the movie playing but you still heard it, the quiet mumble from Beomgyu, concealed with a slight pout.

Your mouth parts a little snapping your attention from your phone to the brunette next to you, "Huh?"

"Huh?" he returns your gaze with wide eyes, fauxing innocence.

"Beomgyu, you just said something. Say it again." You sit up straight, your posture a little more fixed.

"I didn't say anything, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Beomgyu!" you yell flailing your arms around, with your brows furrowed, and that makes him jump a little, flinching. "Repeat what you said!"

"No!"

You pull out the pillow behind you and threaten to hit him by raising it over his head which gets him talking. "Okay! Okay, hold on!"

"First, put that down!" he yells dramatically referring to the pillow—arm shielding his face.

You reluctantly oblige, slowly lowering your pillow.

When both of your breathing starts to steady, Beomgyu speaks up. "This is not how I planned on telling you—"

"Just say it Beomgyu."

"Okay, look—" he takes a deep breath in, "Imagine there's a totally different dimension. You've known this friend for five years or so—"

"So... you."

"Not me! Just, just imagine someone else." you roll your eyes, trying your hardest to keep your urge to smile down, you've watched enough romcoms to know where this was going.

He continues. "And that friend tells you that 'haha, I'm totally in love with you'. How would you respond? Like, rhetorically."

You sigh, deciding to go along with him. "Rhetorically..." his ears perk up, you could either crush his dreams or—

"...I would reject that friend."

"Oh..oh! Oh yeah, totally. That makes sense—"

"Because they're someone else, not you."

It falls quiet as Beomgyu blinks a few times, processing what you just told him. "What?"

You give him a smile before turning to the TV screen, "I like you too."

He also turns to face the TV, lips parted ever so slightly before he just breaks into a smile, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to contain his squeals.

It was so intune with your friendship for both of you to just sit there after confessing your love for the other, watching the movie you've both watched a hundred times before, in silence as the clock almost struck midnight.

It wasn't anything dramatic, just two people silently enjoying the tragic love story between Maria and Tony while snacking.

Beomgyu thinks you don't notice, but your eyes still catch how his fingers slowly 'walked' to yours, nearing them inch by inch and finally holding them. You laugh a little at how how silly it was, and he does too in reaction—contrasting to the scene currently playing, the death of multiple beloved characters finally occuring.

Your eyes lazily look over at your clock, then you smile looking at the boy next to you. "What's your wish? It's almost your birthday," you manage to say, fighting through your sleep.

Beomgyu is also clearly on the same wavelength as his voice is hoarse, barely hearable, "My wish..."

"Kissing you?"

Your smile grows bigger— god, he was so cheesy. "Come here you big baby."

"That's so unsexy... don't call me big baby when I'm about to give you the best french of your life..."

You laugh, hitting his chest lightly. "Okay, okay I promise I won't."

When he nears your face, the movie in the background playing lines you both could recite by heart, he cups your cheeks, breathing a little unsteady, before smiling. "What?" you whisper.

"I don't think this is a dream."

You look into his eyes for second before deciding to go in first, catching his lips with yours. It's like a small peck, soft and slow as your hand find themselves tangled in his hair. You pull away for a second, looking at his lips then his face, "Yeah, I don't think it is either."

ending a/n: you finished!! i didn't do the usual and ask you to reblog in the beginning, but i'll do it here hehe, reblogging [the little sign by the heart button] helps push this fic!

it's like the main thing that helps me out and its what tumblr's algorithm picks up on!! that said, i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, i love writing best friend!gyu ><

[bratphilia]

— burn (w. afton)

note ✧.*‎  part two of the self indulgent william fics!! think of this as a double feature. anyways this is my first time writing william and the reader as a married couple even though its barely glossed over, and not some taboo/scandalous relationship!! so enjoy :3

pairing ✧.*‎‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, bondage, squirting

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @dilfity, @iikyutee, @kissingrhi, @jen-parker, @kathxstuff, @papyrus-the-poet, @lowballbread, @cecelovesbooks, @bluebearieally, @cybunii, @van-van, @iamunabletothinkofablogname, @1ncidentdropout, @ice-echo26@, officially-a-simp13, @all4kura, @el-sol-sale-de-nuevo, @littlexstarlightx, @samlow23

synopsis ✧.*‎ you convince your husband not to shave quite yet.

"ah, shit," comes william's voice from the bathroom in your shared room. you perk your head up and peer over to see him standing in front of the mirror with a small amount of shaving cream spilled on the counter. 

you slide off the bed and walk his direction, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on the side of his torso. he remains unmoving, stoic as the humming of an electric razor comes to life. "maintenance time?"

"absolutely," he sighs, checking his beard out in the mirror. he let it grow too far, in his opinion, but you on the other hand craved it. was it weird? possibly, to someone outside of your relationship, but who cares. every time he kissed you lately, his beard scratched your cheek and chin, making you grow so weak in the knees you could only stand with his support holding you up. 

"well, i like it. maybe you should keep it a little while longer," you suggest hopefully.

william simply gives a short laugh. "i know that you like it. you have that cute little look in your eyes again."

you self-consciously look in the mirror, searching for whatever "cute look" he was implying you had, only to find your reflection staring back at you, most noticeably your pupils dilated in desire. fuck, you needed him. you decide to make it a game. "you won't do anything, though, so it doesn't matter. go on, shave," you say with a dismissive wave of your hand and turn your heel to walk away.

"oh, i won't do anything?" he challenges. you give a noncommittal "mm-mm" in response as you climb back on the bed. 

a beat passes. "get back over here and give me your wrists." 

that immediately grabs your attention. you try not to jump and spring forward, but nonchalantly approach him with a blank face, wrists held out for him. the shaving cream and now turned off razor is left abandoned somewhere on the counter. he undoes his belt and wraps it around your wrists, securing the clasp tightly. he pulls you closely so he can practically growl in your ear, "i'm going to go lay down on the bed then you're going to come over and sit on my face, got that?"

you inhale deeply, suddenly finding yourself short of air. "yes."

william situates himself on the bed, casually rest his hands behind his head. he turns his head towards you; your move. you pad over and climb on the bed, straddling him and shimmying your way forward on your knees. he decides to help you out and quicken the process by grasping your hips and practically lifting you onto his face. 

you try to reach forward onto the bedframe, only for your hands to meet a defeating tug against his belt. you were completely at his disposal. he dives in, smothering his face in between your thighs. he doesn't even use his mouth at first, just teasing you with his facial hair alone. it leaves a burning sensation in its wake and you moan desperately, fingers flexing against the leather bounding you. 

"fuck!" you cry once his tongue enters your weeping hole. he pulls it out and relentlessly laps up and down your slit. his finger tips dig into your hips in a death grip, almost totally halting any bucking motions you could try to make. he just holds you against his face, expecting you to take what he gives you. 

william groans against you in unison with your sinfully loud moans. the vibrations only add to the stimulation he gives you. he sucks your clit into his mouth and you swear you see stars. he pulls it with his lips so that your hood drags out ever so slightly and you're almost close. 

before you can react, he pulls you off his face. you groan, disappointed in the loss of stimulation. "don't be so sad, baby," he says. "lay on the bed, yeah? can you do that for me, sweet thing?"

"mhm," you mumble, shakily resting on the spot next to him and he repositions himself on his knees on the bed. your own knees are tilted upwards expectantly. 

he instantly takes matters into his own hands and lifts your legs up to your stomach. "keep them there," he tells you in a commanding tone.

you feel your core pulse at his words and throw your head back when his mouth returns. without warning, he sucked your clit without remorse. unrelentlessly flicking your pearl with the tip of his tongue with a method only he understands. 

you cry out helplessly once more once his impossibly long tongue slips inside of you once more. he thrusts it in and out, fucking you with it while you shake in his grasp. your curses and begging comes out as incoherent babbles as his mouth works its magic on you, effectively rendering you weak. 

he releases your legs from his hold and tries to spread your lips apart to give him more, but stops when you try to close your legs. "do i need to bind your legs together too?" you shake your head no and incessantly apologize, wanting nothing more but for his mouth back on you. "keep being good for me and you'll get to come."

"okay," you whisper.

you wish he would talk to you more in that gruff voice of his, but this treatment is more than enough. plus, his mouth is a bit too preoccupied right now so you'll take what you can get. 

"feel that honey?" he emphasizes by shaking his head, knowing damn well you can barely speak. "thighs all red from my beard. poor baby."

when he sucks his clit into his mouth again, suctioning it earnestly is when you're tipped over the edge before you can realize it. william, who usually makes you ask to come before doing so, isn't complaining, though. your orgasm has his face dripping. he looks up at you, eyebrow quirked. 

"'m sorry, daddy," you say in a small voice. "couldn't help it." he simply leans up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his face. 

[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

[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 !!

[ssahotchnerr]

Heyy! Hope you are doing well!!!

Had a really weird/scary experience this morning driving to work where this guy got agrressive and punched my car door (while i was still in the car). The only damage is a dent in my car door buttt that got me thinking … Could you please write a fic of either Aaron and/or the BAU comforting reader after she had a bad morning on her way to work and she walks inside in shock?

Thank you!!!

close calls

that's so so scary i'm so sorry :( cw; bau!reader, fluff and comfort, minor self-depreciating thoughts

"hey."

your presence didn't go unnoticed the second you entered the bullpen, as aaron was conveniently just leaving the small kitchen besides said door, cup of coffee in hand. however, you walked past him without much less of a glance. you were on complete autopilot, and so his welcoming greeting flew past you completely.

naturally he was taken aback, as it was very unlike your normal self. you were always quick to give him your bright smile and return an enthusiastic good morning. he considered it a crucial part of his daily routine.

worry instantly rippled through his chest.

something was clearly wrong.

aaron tried again, calling out your name and succeeding to grab your attention. his voice pulled you out of the trance you were in, and you turned to meet his eyes. his concern only heightened when he met your gaze, your expression similar to a deer frozen within headlights.

"oh," you stopped a bit too suddenly, having to regain slight balance as your feet were already one step ahead. you merely blinked, as if you were just now processing his presence, or reminding yourself where you were to begin with. "i'm sorry i'm late."

just like your mind, you sounded far away, too.

"no, no. i don't care about that." aaron's heart dropped at the anguish in your tone, especially when you took a step back, like you were expecting him to scold you. "are you alright?"

you opened your mouth to respond, but fell short, heat filling your cheeks as the gears in your head turned on and on about something. "it's- um, silly."

a frown pulled at his lips; it was a reoccurring habit of yours since you joined the bau, dismissing your feelings and everything else that fell in between. a bad morning compared to the wrath of serial killers? compared to what defenseless victims faced? your emotions meant nothing in comparison- were meaningless even. things could always be worse, so bad should be tolerable, right?

wrong. and aaron would continue to try and convince you otherwise.

always.

true to his word, "i can assure you, whatever it is, it's far from silly."

aaron's eyes were warm, inviting. and for the first time that morning, you felt safe. then again, you always did with him, and you couldn’t not open up to him.

"just... some guy nearly t-boned my car, on the way in." at your admission tears swarmed your eyes, ready and daring to escape. however you were faster, raising your sleeve to blot them before they managed to do so. “he sped away after.”

aaron's eyes widened and his jaw instantly tightened. but his first order of business- making sure you were in fact all in one piece. he scanned you quickly and once he was positive you weren't hiding any injuries, he asked again, with a bit more urgency this time. "are you alright?"

"fine, he just missed me." your statement was far from the truth; you weren’t fine and aaron knew it. your eyes began to water more profusely this time around, and you took a a deep, shaky breath. "just freaked me out a bit, y'know."

"of course." aaron was quick to validate, and he immediately placed his coffee down, long forgotten. "what do you need?"

"what?" you looked at him with glassy eyes, your voice so small you barely recognized it yourself.

aaron's hands carefully found yours, his fingertips just barely grazing yours- instantly comforting you at the touch. he was still fearful of any hidden wounds (yes, he checked again) and his actions were subtle enough to go unnoticed by any potential bystanders. he didn't dare to care about anyone else other than you. "what do you need?"

what could he do?

with a shrug, you all but whimpered, "have a shoulder to cry on?"

"absolutely." he didn't hesitate, his hand finding the small of your back and ready to take you into the privacy of his office.

you nodded, grateful.

"and once you're ready, let me know the intersection this happened at. i'll have garcia pull cams, and we'll get a license plate. i'll make sure whoever did this, is up to their elbows in traffic violations."

"thanks aaron," you sniffled softly, allowing him to guide you. you found yourself leaning against him for support- you were sure you would topple over from the weight of the morning’s events if you didn't. his arm wrapped around you further, holding you securely in place at his side. “you're the best."