#this is such an insignificant little thing

[weirdero]

I want to talk about Helena’s performance as Helly and her deep rooted misunderstanding of who Helly is as a person. And just in general how I think she perceives her especially after yesterday’s episode.

Helena is incredibly attentive, almost to the point of being terrifying. In the short moments she interacts with anyone, everything in her head is already scripted, calculated, and premeditated. She’s also a great method actress, reacting based on the energy around her. It’s like a stand up comic, constantly adjusting their performance to make sure their actions land. If something doesn’t click, she shifts.

Throughout the past couple of episodes, Helena spends most of her time just trying to go with the flow move with the water, trying to fit in without standing out, constantly monitoring the group and their reactions at every turn. And so far, she was good at it. She can play the part, until her own emotions towards helly start to blind her.

In these two pics she does a quick scan of Irving’s and Marks faces trying to analyze their reactions

Helena knows the group loves Helly. She knows Mark loves Helly. And honestly, I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that it genuinely makes her want to kill herself. She has zero respect for Helly, and she doesn’t need to. To Helena, Helly, and by extension, the group, are low value. Insignificant. At her highest, Helly is just a worker, a cheap extension of herself created with the sole purpose of just being a good employee to be displayed to the public as a little shining lumon puppet. But shit, the bitch can’t even do that. She’s done quite the opposite. So yeah, not a person to be respected or valued.

This particular disdain (and fuck it, I’m just gonna say hate) that Helena carries for Helly spills into the bonfire scene with Milchick.

While Milchick is reading the story, enunciating every word like a second grade elementary school teacher, showing pictures like they’re in a reading circle, I kept wondering to myself if Helena ever experienced something similar to this as a child. How many times has she heard this same story? Or hell, any other old Kier mythology? Lumon, Kier, the Eagan legacy, it’s all she’s ever known. This world is nothing new to her.

Even though I believe Helena is a loyal servant, she probably didn’t love all the weird shit she had to put up with in her childhood. The weight of the Egan legacy probably suffocates her. But she accepted it either way because that was the life she was given. Unlike fucking helly. Fucking helly who’s forced her into this situation to begin with. In my opinion, all of these particular feelings make their way into Helena’s reaction to the story as Helly, which could only be described as a middle schooler who suddenly thinks they’re too old for camp.

I saw this post someone made about this scene, and like shit, yeah, that’s probably right. Helena had one chance to shit on the weird religion that’s been shoved down her throat since birth and she took that chance.

Helena, in this moment, settles for crude, mocking jokes. She probably does this partially out of her own selfish need for Mark’s validation, as well as playing her role trying to fit into the group but I also think it’s a great reflection of her own personal feelings toward Helly. Helly, who would’ve never acted that way. Helly, who is many things, but never cruel. Helena doesn’t seem to understand that. For the moment, Helena takes a step back, flanderizes Helly, reducing her to this cheeky, crude, disruptive little jokester. That’s how Helena views her. With no respect. No nuance. Helly has layers Helena does not care to see. Helly doesn’t just break rules; she actively causes chaos, subverting everything around her. She’s purposefully, and happily, malcontent. A bitch, dare I say, an ungrateful bitch, most likely from Helena’s point of view.

Irving, who keeps testing her, makes her slip a little more. I talked about this a little bit in my last post about severance, but Helena doesn’t take well to being disrespected. She shifts from wanting the group’s (and mostly Mark’s) validation to just wanting to put Irving in his fucking place. These people aren’t equal to her in her mind. They aren’t cut from the same cloth probably not even made from the same fabric. There are levels to this shit, and they are not on her level.

She says what she says. It’s cruel. Mostly, it’s stupid on her part.

And just like Irving said later, and what I said earlier Helly was many things, but…

What Helena did at the bonfire was a fuck up. An especially surprising one coming from a woman as controlling and calculated as her. I’m fully convinced all those little mistakes came from a deep frustration within her. Much of that anger, in my opinion, is stewing from the realization that Helly, someone created by her, literally the source of all of Helena’s recent problems, someone who will stop at nothing to take her down, that person, the woman who’s literally locked up inside her, is more free than she will ever be.

Yes, Helena has no respect for Helly. Yes, she most likely hates that bitch. But when she herself is acting as Helly, it gives her the opportunity to almost let go. She gets the chance to essentially kill the bitch that’s been fucking up her life whilst simultaneously getting a chance to talk to this man who cares so deeply for a version of herself she hates, Even if it’s not the most ideal of situations (it’s not), it’s still something. I think, at the bonfire, she reflects on the ridiculous situation she’s found herself. All this shit caused by some other version of herself that she created, that situation plus all the other shit going down at Lumon is probably alot. And it just all bubbles up inside her. And when she’s given even the smallest opportunity to let anything out, she’s going to take it.

Idk it’s therapeutic in a way I guess.

She’s unfiltered, blunt, and almost carefree in a way that’s shocking almost unsettling. It’s clearly how she sees Helly to some degree, but also her own need to scratch an itch she’s never dared to before. And even though it’s an act of “Helly”, it still leaves a clear aftertaste of Helena.

Keep thinking about these two little moments whilst she’s making her jokes she not only keeps checking on mark’s reaction but also seems to laugh at her self in a way that just seems so genuine almost self deprecating. She acknowledges the ridiculousness of her situation and this dumb ass story she’s probably heard a million times

In my last post about Severance, I mentioned that Helena is the master of speaking her truth without outright saying it. She hides behind walls, but as Helly, she’s free to speak without restraint.

(Also her having sex with mark is a clear way of her expressing this new found freedom with in her role as helly but ima talk about that later)

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act II

“Before you started the bumpers cars act, for the record unless you’re eight years old trying to make your dolls kiss, smashing your teeth together is not an ideal approximation of romance.”

“And [Hattie’s] gaze fell to [Anthony’s], felt as if somehow it was attached to his, as if there were filaments between them hooking together every time their glances connected.”

“Maybe there had already been the faintest glimmer of this horrifying attachment even then. His first steps on a map to a very unexpected destination but somehow it still felt as if there’d been no warning at all. As if a thousand insignificant moments and incidents had quietly woven together until one day he’d turned and he’d fallen and he’d been caught by a net of those impossibly unbreakable threads which he hadn’t realized existed.”

“…[Anthony] was not a touchy-feely person… But when he and Hattie, when their characters had kissed each other into the wall, he’d almost purred against her like a damn cat.”

“It was a closed set this morning so thankfully a very minimal number of crew personnel…On the flip side, the team reserved this level of set closure, basically a skeleton crew, for only the most explicit scenes and semi-nudity.”

“But she never had to worry in the past about being more involved in the dance than she ought to be. Not once had she arranged herself in a castmate’s arms and felt as if they were doing something truly, genuinely intimate…"

“Quite clearly the issue here was her scene partner and the potential for an amped up repeat of what had happened last time. Hard nipples, damp thighs, and a heart trying to burst out of her chest, all from a fully clothed screen kiss. This time, they’d both be all but naked, writhing on a bed, gasping, grinding, sighing.”

“This mattress feels very sturdy.”

“The moment Iris bounces him into the mattress in episode 8..."

“If millions of people were going to watch her ride Anthony like a mechanical bull…”

“Stevie pointed at the ornate mirror near the bed. Her gesture a spectacular symphony of sarcasm. ‘As your pre-seduction routine appears to involve a great deal of hair flicking and smokey glances at yourself, have at it.’”

“Are you looking for something?”

“‘Falling buckets,’ Hattie said. ‘Or collapsing bedframes or beams coming loose…’”

“…when the floorboard beneath [Anthony’s] boot performed a preemptive strike. The wood tilted inwards, just enough to throw off his footing…and his full body weight surged forward. She could see later in hindsight that he had attempted to both shield her head and not crush her underneath him…"

“Anthony landed on his knees with a painful grunt but had barely hit the floor before he was at her side, touching the back of her head and her shaking shoulders. She just had time to register a little too much cool air on the backs of her thighs, then he was smoothing her skirts down protecting what remained of her dignity in an automatic gesture.”

“’Gentle, this bit,’ [Stevie] said. “Romantic, soft.”

“But in the ways that mattered, especially in the context of an intimate scene and the scripts that they all dreaded most, he’d been surprising. If she wanted to expand into the territory of actual truth, he’d been the most confusing, unsettling, and fun scene partner she’d had in four years.”

“They were still holding hands. They realized this simultaneously and let go immediately.”

“’She’s my baby,’ [Cassidy] explained as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘The first thing I ever treated myself to with my own money, and she’s been with me for the whole crazy ride.’ She patted the gear box fondly. ‘I could never part with Penelope.’”

When discussing the underdog love story on Leicester Square, Hattie commented, “If she were a viewer, she’d be shipping them hard.”

While Anthony and Hattie were looking at gravestones, one caught Hattie’s eye…

“The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.”

While reminiscing about growing up, Hattie recalled, “...her mother reading aloud to her from a battered old copy of The Magic Faraway Tree.”

“’Do you remember the day we first met,’ [Hattie] asked suddenly."

“In all honesty, no. His early days on various TV and film sets had all blurred into an archived jumble of long hours, interchangeable costars, despised hotel living. As difficult as it was to imagine now, he had no distinct memory of the very first time he had ever seen Hattie. Although, he might have a vague recollection of earrings shaped like miniature garden gnomes. He did, however, have a crystal-clear memory of the first time he’d actually seen Hattie with all that the emphasis on that word implied.”

“She’d obviously read the ‘no’ in his expression, and her smile widened.”

“’It was a Tuesday morning at Malvern Abbey.’”

“And now she felt excessively wrong sharing close whispering breaths with Patrick especially with Anthony sitting on a folding chair a few meters behind the camera awaiting his queue to slip in for the daydream portion of the scene, and currently watching their every move. His pose was typically lazy, one boot crossed over the other, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, but he hadn’t looked away from them once. Something in his demeanor had the usually easy-going Patrick antsy as hell, probably the twitching eyelid.”

“’A definite improvement,’ Stevie’s voice came from behind them, very dryly. ‘And if we’d actually started shooting yet, we could probably call it a day.’”

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think people so often forget that saiki is very against playing god, sometimes hes a silly little guy and goes against his rules just a little but it takes a lot for him to SERIOUSLY play god. he uses his powers to do little, easy, usually insignificant things but not usually big ones.

"why didnt saiki go back in time to prevent getting stranded on the island?" "saiki couldve easily made mera not poor" "saiki didnt go back in time to prevent aiura from finding her soulmate, he must be in love with her" "he couldve easily gone back in time to stop teruhashi from getting obsessed with him"

if saiki went back in time or changed the world to solve every single one of his problems and every single characters problems, he wouldnt be the person he is 😭 the one time he did that was over the most traumatic moment of his life... and you want him to do that casually every tuesday or what?

[cuntyji]

hello i'm sad because i reread angel's ( @deathofacupid ) smau this is the [cover of the] song that ib'd this post <3

there used to be humming in the household when you were around.

not a song, not even a tune most of the time—just the idle, thoughtless hum of someone who belonged there. it was in the mornings when you brewed tea, steam curling into the air, the scent of sugar and warmth lingering even after the cup was drained. it was at night, barely a whisper against the silence, like a sound you didn’t even realize you were making.

sukuna used to grumble about it, used to throw a lazy glare your way from where he lounged, arms crossed. fucking annoying. he’d say it like it was just a fact. like it was the weather, or the color of the sky.

you would hum a little louder after that. just enough to taunt, to challenge, to let him know you heard him but didn’t care. then you’d soften again, slipping back into your own little world, as if your very presence resonated through sound.

but now there was nothing.

no hum in the mornings. no hum as you poured tea, because there was no second cup anymore. no hum in the evenings, in the quiet spaces that used to be filled by something so small, so insignificant—until it was gone.

he noticed the silence before he noticed the absence. the sheets were colder than they should have been, but that was only a delayed realization. the space beside him in bed was empty, but his first thought had been about the quiet. it was too still, too hollow.

he caught himself waiting, once. waiting for the moment you’d step into the room, waiting for the sound of you. a hum, a breath, anything.

it didn’t come. it wouldn’t.

sukuna scoffed at himself, at the foolishness of it all. as if he cared. as if it mattered.

but the silence remained. the kind that sat heavy in the air, the kind that followed him through the house, curling around his thoughts like an unwanted presence. a ghost of something that should be here but wasn’t.

his jaw clenched. his fingers curled into his palm. pathetic.

someone else would be hearing your humming now.

someone else would wake up to the sound of you existing in that small, quiet way—your voice pressed into the spaces between thoughts, filling them without even trying.

someone else.

sukuna exhaled through his nose, sharp and short, like he could chase the thought away.

he picked up his tea, but it was too bitter.

you still hummed. not in front of anyone—not in front of another.

it had been his privilege, whether he knew it or not. whether he deserved it or not.

now, the sound belonged only to the empty spaces around you, slipping through the cracks of a world that no longer held him beside you. you hummed when no one was around, when silence pressed too heavy against your ribs, when it felt like the only thing keeping you tethered to something that once was.

you had never been superstitious, never believed in things like fate or unseen forces that carried whispers across distances. but sometimes, when the sky stretched wide and endless above you, you’d tilt your head, hum soft and slow, and wonder—could the wind carry it to him?

what a foolish thought. the wind did not know you. did not owe you anything. but it didn’t stop you from trying.

“pathetic.” sukuna’s voice had always curled around that word like he enjoyed the weight of it, letting it roll off his tongue with something between amusement and contempt. you could almost hear it now, spoken into the empty air, sharp as ever.

he’d hate this—knowing that, even now, your voice still reached for him in ways he never reached for you.

but you had always been foolish, hadn’t you? humming under your breath like it meant something. like it ever could.

so you kept humming, just a little softer this time, as if it made any difference at all.

[just-cofffee]

—Satoruuu, your beloveeed!

Geto came with his usual smug grin, and Satoru felt exasperation crawl up his body like an infernal fire. No way. Not again. And definitely not with that idiot’s voice echoing through the halls.

To make things worse, Shoko’s laughter behind him wasn’t helping at all. That damn woman enjoyed his suffering way too much. Only those two knew about his tiny, insignificant, almost nonexistent crush on the nerd of the school.

—She’s looking for you, the little nerd is looking for you —Suguru sang, pretending to be out of breath—. She said that… that… wait, let me catch my breath… god, I run so fast…

Satoru didn’t wait for him to finish his ridiculous performance and kicked him in the ass.

—Talk.

He had never been this desperate to hear something in his life.

—Your future wife, or whatever you call her, wants to see you in the library, in the ancient books section, in twenty minutes. Don’t ask me why, I’m not her personal messenger… although I should start charging you for these favors.

Suguru wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

—Sooo… —he dragged out the word with a smirk— you should get your ass moving now.

And with another kick in the butt, Geto sent him on his way.

Satoru was in full crisis mode. Why did you want to see him? Did you know about his crush? Were you going to tell him to stop deluding himself because nothing would ever happen? Every step towards the library brought a new catastrophic scenario into his mind. He had to seem cultured, mature, intelligent. Like you. And not some damn hormonal teenager with sweaty hands. Speaking of which, his pants were probably ruined from how many times he had wiped his hands on them.

When he arrived and saw you, his brain shut down.

You were frowning.

Shit.

Did he have something on his face? A booger? Did he look like a terminally ill patient? He wanted to vanish.

—Are you feeling okay, Gojo-san? —Your sweet voice pulled him back to reality.

—You look a little pale…

He just nodded, completely unable to form words. God, this was humiliating.

Still confused, you led him to a more private spot. If he was nervous, you were too. That was unusual. But you had to say it.

—I…

—I wa-

You both spoke at the same time, making things even more awkward.

—Yeah, I need to tell you something —you finally said.

Satoru felt his heart stop. No heartbeat, no breathing. He wasn’t ready for this.

—Go ahead —his voice came out strained with nerves.

—It’s about a kinda dumb question…

You hesitated, playing with your fingers.

He didn’t need more information. No thinking required. He knew what was coming. His crush hadn’t been that subtle after all.

—Whatever it is, my answer is yes.

Silence.

You frowned, confused.

—Would you really let me study the color of your pubic hair?

Time froze.

Satoru felt his soul leave his body.

—…What?

—What?

Silence.

Satoru blinked.

You blinked.

Suguru, hiding behind a bookshelf, choked on his laughter so hard he nearly died.

[nyxs2]

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 12/?)

It's almost impossible not to be seduced by Silco's words, especially when they echo the conviction you thought you had overcome. Perhaps the truth is that you never changed; perhaps, deep down, you are just as monstrous as he is.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 9,2K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, fingerfucking, vaginal fingering, public sex, allusions to squirting, exhibitionism, possessive behavior, slight hints of reader's threats, Silco being a manipulator, allusions to kidnapping and torture, Silco being bad with feelings, Silco POV

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 11

Powder.

For a moment, the world stopped.

The unmistakable blue hair was longer now, braided into two plaits that draped over her shoulders. Her face was slightly older, touched by the first signs of adolescence, but it still carried the undeniable traces of the little girl you once swore to protect. The same little girl you had watched from afar countless times, making sure she didn't get herself into trouble.

The past clashed with the present like a punch straight to the gut. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time.

She looked about twelve, maybe thirteen now. The confident posture, the curious gaze—everything about her hit you like a slap to the face, leaving your defenses in ruins. You tried to swallow down the sudden rush of emotions, but your throat felt locked tight. You stood there, staring at her, lost in your own shock for longer than what could be considered normal.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Her voice was clear and firm, but you didn't respond. You couldn't. You were frozen, your eyes locked onto this impossible vision.

Powder.

Every single detail about her yanked you into an avalanche of memories and emotions. The resolve you had rebuilt to start your search for this so-called Jinx, the simmering resentment and complicated feelings toward Silco—all of it suddenly felt insignificant. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Nothing except the fact standing right in front of you: She was alive. 

Powder was alive. 

And she was here.

"Sorry little one, what?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Powder repeated, tilting her head to the side, her braids swaying with the motion. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to remember something. "I know you. You're my dad's company."

The statement hit you like a punch—more precisely, a punch from Vander's cast-iron gauntlets. Dad. The word echoed in your head, churning something deep inside you.

"Dad?"

Your voice came out a pitch higher, shrill with sheer disbelief. That didn't make any sense. Dad? It couldn't be. The only figure you had ever associated with that title for her was Vander. Until you remembered a small detail, one that the shock had momentarily erased from your mind.

"You're talking about Silco?"

She nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and at that moment, you wanted to slam your head against the nearest wall. Even though you had already considered this possibility from the start, having it confirmed now was still a little unsettling.

That bastard Silco, the one turning your life upside down, messing with your thoughts, and taking up more and more space in your mind, was the guardian—or worse, the adoptive father—of the girl you had been searching for since returning to Zaun. It felt like the universe was conspiring to make your life even more complicated.

"Yeah, I keep him company... hm... we're friends?" The sentence came out awkwardly, your voice sounding much more like a clumsy question than a confident statement. Perfect. Now you looked like an idiot in front of the girl.

"Silco having friends?" She laughed—a loud, genuine sound that echoed through the space, making you even more uncomfortable. "That's a good one! So, you're heading to his office to keep him company again, huh? Is it like... a meeting?"

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head slightly as you finally stopped to analyze the situation as a whole. Was it just your imagination, or was this girl interrogating you?

"You could say that." you replied in a neutral tone, trying to sound casual.

"Hm..." The girl tilted her head, now looking you up and down with undisguised curiosity. "You're the prostitute."

If you weren't already shocked enough by the whole sequence of events, that sentence would have made your jaw hit the floor. However, your body still reacted. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, your cheeks started to burn, and every inch of you desperately longed to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Oh, great. Just great. Now even the kid knew you were sleeping with Silco. Perfect. Zaun might as well organize a whole procession in your honor at this point.

"Wait, do you even know what that word means?"

"Prostitute? Of course, I do! People pay you, and you keep them company. Simple." She shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world while you stood there, even more horrified. "Sevika told me."

"Oh, God..."

"How much do you charge? 'Cause Silco went crazy when you disappeared, so I'm guessing you must be pretty expensive." She took a few small steps toward you. "Come on, spill it. How much?"

Before you could open your mouth to respond—or do anything at all—a deep, unmistakable voice echoed through the room.

"Jinx."

You never, ever thought you'd be grateful for Silco's arrival, but there you were, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of his imposing figure standing in the doorway. He was motionless, his face carrying that same cold, indifferent expression as always, but his eyes were locked onto the two of you.

"What did I say about interrogating my guests?"

"You said I wasn't supposed to do that. But I was curious!" Jinx crossed her arms, pouting defiantly. "I wanted to meet her somehow since you wouldn't even let me get close when she was with you."

"Jinx." His tone was harsher now, enough to make her step back, though she didn't lose that air of petulance. "Go to your lab and do something productive with your time, since you seem to have plenty of it to waste."

The girl huffed, casting one last look in your direction before leaving—almost as if she were engraving your face into her memory—muttering something about adults being "so boring."

When Powder's—no, Jinx's—footsteps finally faded down the corridor, the silence left behind felt heavy, suffocating. It was as if the air in the room had thickened, becoming almost impossible to breathe. You, who had been frozen in place until now, finally allowed yourself to meet his eyes. But Silco was already staring at you, his gaze locked onto yours in that way he always knew how to do.

There were so many things you wanted to say, sharp words ready at the tip of your tongue, and even more things you wanted to do to him. But none of them seemed to make sense anymore. Not after seeing Powder there, calling him father. Not after realizing what he meant to her. How you wished that insane theory had been wrong.

That girl had already lost a father once. And if you tried to take her away from Silco in any way, she would hate you until the end of time. As much as you wanted to protect her—from this place, from that damned manipulator who stirred such conflicting feelings in you—something about the thought of hurting Powder stopped you.

Suddenly, none of the plans you had spent sleepless nights crafting made sense anymore.

You had been so pessimistic about this whole Powder being Jinx thing that you half expected to be terribly wrong. But you were right.

"Come with me." Silco's voice shattered the tense silence lingering between you both. He sounded so casual. "I believe you came for a meeting."

It wasn't an invitation—it was an order. As always, he didn't wait for your response. He was already turning away, walking with slow, deliberate steps toward his office. But there was an insinuation in his words that you picked up on immediately. He had heard the entire conversation. He had been there, watching, as he always did—only stepping in when he deemed it necessary.

With a resigned sigh, you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts before following him to the office door. The emotional rollercoaster of the day had drained your strength, but giving up wasn't an option. Not now.

Your steps were cautious, almost hesitant. You moved lightly, as if each movement could trigger a hidden trap, despite having entered this room countless times before. Walking into Silco's office always felt like stepping into a predator's den.

Silco said nothing when he entered. He went straight to his desk, rummaging through something without so much as a glance in your direction. Meanwhile, you remained near the door, your mind at war with itself. Part of you wanted to charge at him—accuse him, yell, demand answers. The other part wanted to simply wait, to absorb what was happening and decide the next move carefully.

The problem was, you no longer had a plan. Everything felt like it was crumbling beneath your feet, and now, all that was left was to improvise.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't notice when he got closer. His presence was almost silent, like a whisper in the dark. When his hand lifted toward your face, your reaction was instinctive. You pulled back quickly, like a wild cat sensing a threat, your eyes locked onto him with a mix of distrust and surprise.

"You're bleeding."

It wasn't a question, nor a statement of concern. It was simply an observation, a fact he had noticed and was acknowledging. That's when you saw what he was holding. A white handkerchief, folded with precision, rested in his hand.

Your fingers brushed against your forehead, exactly where the metallic monkey had struck you. You felt the warm, damp surface, and when you pulled your hand back, you saw the red staining your fingertips. Curiously, you hadn't even realized you were bleeding, much less felt the cut open or the blood trickling down. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the emotional turmoil was dulling the physical pain.

"I didn't know you liked playing nurse." you teased, attempting to ease the discomfort with a touch of sarcasm. Your eyes studied him briefly, trying to decipher the reason behind his gesture. It was unsettling. Silco—the man who never hesitated to get his hands bloody, both literally and metaphorically—was now standing there, offering to clean your wound.

"I don't want more blood staining my carpet." His voice was cold, razor-sharp. "That would be inconvenient."

You rolled your eyes despite the icy tone of his words. You knew it was a lie. If the only issue was blood on the carpet, he would have just tossed the handkerchief at you and been done with it, instead of bothering to clean the wound himself.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, and you felt your shoulders gradually relax. It was strange—unsettling, even—to have Zaun's most notorious crime lord tending to a superficial wound, one that, ironically, had been inflicted by the very child he had chosen to take in.

"That would be inconvenient, but deliberately hiding your daughter isn't." Your voice came out firm but measured, as if testing the limits. You knew Powder wasn't his daughter, but Silco didn't know that you knew. Keeping up the illusion of ignorance seemed like the safest choice for now.

He paused for a split second—almost imperceptibly—before continuing to dab the cloth against your skin.

"I believe I've already told you that there are things that do not concern you."

"Oh, of course." you shot back, a dry chuckle escaping your lips. "Because you're so good at keeping secrets. Nothing you do ever reaches the wrong ears, does it?"

The smile he gave you was barely perceptible but utterly devoid of warmth. More of a silent warning than an act of camaraderie. "Watch your words, dove. Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed."

You crossed your arms, ignoring the implicit threat. "And some questions, when avoided, only make the answers more obvious."

For a moment, silence settled over the room, so thick that you could hear both his breathing and your own. He resumed cleaning the wound with the same deliberate care, but something in the air had shifted. A new tension, heavier now, as if the two of you stood on opposite sides of a chessboard where every move had to be calculated with precision.

"She is none of your concern." Silco finally broke the silence, his voice low, nearly a whisper, yet weighted with finality.

"But I deserve to know." you countered, your voice carrying a boldness that bordered on reckless. "After all, I'm fucking her father."

The reaction was immediate. Silco's hand, which had been holding the cloth, pressed down harder than before, drawing an involuntary shudder from you. The pain was sharp, radiating through your body, and when you instinctively tried to pull away, his other hand was already in motion. Strong fingers clamped around your jaw, forcing you to stay still despite the throbbing discomfort. His gaze burned like liquid fire—freezing you in place even as a wave of heat crashed over you from the sheer force of his intimidation.

"I warned you to be careful with your words."

You finally fell silent. The pain and the implicit warning in his gestures were enough to shut your sharp tongue—at least for now. You knew you had crossed a line with your words, but something about the way he reacted made part of you want to push even further. Not out of pure provocation, but to understand just how far he was willing to go to protect what he held so dear.

The grip on your face gradually loosened, but not in a comforting way—it was deliberate, almost cruel, reinforcing his dominance over the situation. Even so, you forced yourself to remain quiet, swallowing the bitter taste of wounded pride as he finished tending to you with mechanical efficiency.

Your eyes studied him with curiosity. Silco had that neutral, almost cold expression, his jaw tense, his hands moving as naturally as breathing. It wasn't hard to imagine that he had cleaned blood countless times before—his own or someone else's. This wasn't new to him; it was routine.

When he finally stepped back, dropping the bloodstained cloth onto the worn wooden desk, the tension between you didn't fade. He exuded authority, even in silence. With a quiet grunt, he settled into his chair but didn't bother looking at you right away.

"Stay away from her." His voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade. No raised tone, no dramatics, yet it carried a weight that made it impossible to ignore. "I won't say it again."

"You think I'd be capable of doing anything to her?"

Before you even realized it, your steps had carried you closer. You stopped in front of the desk, leaning slightly over it, using the surface for support as you studied him. Silco lifted his chin to look at you, his heterochromatic eyes locked onto yours. That gaze was a mix of exhaustion and irritation, but above all, he didn't seem the least bit impressed by your boldness. There wasn't even a flicker of discomfort in his expression.

"If I thought you were a real threat, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

Before you could respond, he pulled the revolver from his holster with an unsettling calm, as if the motion was as casual as adjusting his tie. The weapon gleamed under the greenish light of the room, heavy and deadly, and he placed it on the desk with a sharp clack. The barrel was pointed directly at you—a tangible reminder of his quiet threat.

"She is off-limits. Understood?" His voice was unwavering. "So don't make me punish you for your insistence on this matter."

An image flooded your mind, vivid as if it were happening at that very moment. Silco in the shadows, watching. His eyes sharp and cold, finger always near the trigger, studying your every move as you interacted with Powder—no, with Jinx, as he preferred to call her now. It was evident that Jinx put him on the defensive. No matter what the two of you had built together—a contract, a twisted relationship, an intimacy that wavered between his absolute control and your calculated provocations. There were limits he would never let you cross.

Perhaps she was his only weakness, the one point where he allowed no concessions. And maybe, just maybe, that was precisely why he was so determined to draw that invisible line between you now.

For now, you decided to comply with the order. There was no need to raise suspicion—not yet, at least. Either way, reaching Powder without Silco knowing seemed more like a matter of opportunity than skill. A new plan was beginning to take shape in your mind: make the girl trust you enough to... well, what came after that was still a mystery. That was a problem for the future. Right now, the focus was on softening Silco's suspicion, regaining the privileges he had stripped away, and paving the way for your next move.

"How was it with Singed?"

Silco's voice cut through the silence as he picked up a document from a neatly stacked pile on his desk. His tone was so casual it almost made it seem like the previous conversation hadn't happened.

"Did he say anything different?"

"No." You replied, stepping away from the desk. With a heavy sigh, you pulled out a chair and sat down, hands resting on the armrests as you observed Silco. "For how much longer will I have to keep seeing him?"

"For as long as necessary."

He didn't even lift his eyes to you, his long, precise fingers flipping through the pages before him with an exaggerated concentration—almost as if he were deliberately ignoring your presence.

He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"But—"

"No buts." 

Silco cut you off before you could finish the sentence, his voice firm yet calm, like the sound of a door closing with a muffled slam.

You felt your teeth clench. His response was sharp and final, and the obvious disinterest as he remained buried in his paperwork was almost a provocation. Frustration mingled with the tension already hanging in the air, and you had to control yourself not to let it show just how much it bothered you.

"This is getting ridiculous." you muttered, more to yourself, but deliberately loud enough for him to hear.

This time, Silco lifted his eyes. For a moment, they gleamed with something between exhaustion and annoyance, and you realized you had managed to get a reaction out of him.

"Ridiculous would be allowing you to continue questioning my decisions." His reply was quiet but carried the weight of a veiled threat. "You're here to serve a purpose, not to negotiate the terms of it."

You opened your mouth to argue, but something in his gaze made you hesitate. It wasn't fear—you weren't foolish enough to fear him in that way—but there was a line that even you knew better than to cross. Besides, the fact that he had used the word "purpose" made you feel strange... though irritated would be the best way to describe your current emotions.

So instead of retorting, you simply leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. "As you wish." you murmured, unwillingly, but making it clear that you weren't satisfied.

It felt like an eternity passed in that uncomfortable silence between you. The only sound was the breathing of both of you, an almost synchronized melody, but heavy with a tension that filled the room like toxic gas. Silco didn't look at you directly, keeping his focus on his work. You had clashed before—many times—and ever since you had woken from the coma your own body had imposed on you, these exchanges had become more frequent. However, something had been different in the past few days. Colder. Distant.

In fact, ever since that morning when the two of you had slept together, he seemed to have closed himself off, and it had remained that way for the past three weeks. It was as if something inside him had cracked—or hardened. He no longer touched you the way he used to, nor were there the sharp, biting remarks that had once been a part of your dynamic. Even when he announced that your privileges had been revoked, he did it as if he were informing just another subordinate.

You didn't fight the decision at the time. There was no point in waging a war with a predetermined ending.

Now, everything was methodically controlled. He summoned you to his office, yes, but the interaction was cold, almost clinical. You spent hours by his side, yet you felt more like a piece of furniture than someone he shared even the slightest warmth with.

Maybe he was still angry. At you, at everything. When Silco was angry, everyone felt it. His rage was a living presence, infecting any space he stepped into. It was impossible not to notice his foul mood, especially because it made him unbearably meticulous and unbearably critical.

Of course, deep down, you knew it was your fault. If you hadn't run away, none of this would've happened. But you didn't regret it. Not one bit. Why should you? There was no room for regret in your mind. Still, something inside you longed for this phase to pass.

You wouldn't admit it, not even under torture, but you missed it. You missed the Silco who responded to your provocations, who played along with that spark of something you couldn't quite name. You missed the Silco who looked at you with those eyes full of intention, leaving the impression that, no matter how cold and unpleasant he was, he wasn't completely impenetrable.

You shook your head slightly, pushing the thought away. No, you didn't miss it. And you would keep denying it until the very idea was suffocated by the same oppressive silence filling the room.

The sound of his sigh cut through the silence, long and heavy, as if carrying the weight of something too burdensome for the world to bear. It was the only sign that he was finally giving in to the tension accumulating in the air. Then, Silco slowly turned his chair, his narrowed eyes fixed on you. That gaze was nearly unreadable, but you could sense an intent behind it—something he had kept buried for weeks.

"I believe you should know who ordered your kidnapping." His voice had lost some of its usual harshness, softening just enough to sound like a command disguised as a request. "I want the names."

Ah, of course, there was also that.

All these weeks since you woke up, he had never brought it up. Never pressed you for information or questioned your involvement. It was unsettling, actually. You had expected a meticulous interrogation, sharp questions about who you were, why this had happened, and who was behind it. But he did none of that.

Silco had treated the kidnapping as an insignificant detail, almost as if... he already knew something about it. About you.

That thought had always lingered in your mind, but you never dared to voice it. Still, the lack of distrust only made the situation more unsettling.

"You won't be able to reach them." Your voice was firm—not just a statement, but a fact. "You have no power in Piltover, Silco."

As expected, he didn't seem remotely irritated by your defiance. On the contrary, there was a predatory calm in his eyes, as if he were already two steps ahead, anticipating your every reaction. He rose from his chair with that calculated elegance only he could manage, the sound of his boots against the floor filling the space as he approached.

When he stopped beside you, Silco leaned in slightly, tilting your chin upward with the touch of two fingers. A light touch, yet one that exuded authority—though, somehow, it still held a trace of gentleness. He tilted his head, his eyes piercing into yours as if he could rip the answers straight from your soul.

"Don't burden that pretty head of yours with such details. Just give me the names."

The tone was undeniably authoritative, but there was something in the way he spoke—that unwavering confidence, as if every word was a promise of an inevitable future—that made you hesitate. You stepped back slightly, not out of fear, but out of instinct, like someone who recognized they were standing before something far greater than they could control.

You knew Silco ruled Zaun with an iron fist. His eyes were everywhere, his spies in every alley, and his orders were rarely disobeyed. But Piltover was a different story. You knew that, you were sure of it... or at least you thought you were.

"There was a secretary, maybe an assistant, I don't know. Cayden. From what I remember, he was sponsored by the Hoskel family."

"Anyone else?"

"He was the only one in a higher position that I knew of."

"Good." Silco nodded, as if he had already calculated everything in his mind, and turned calmly toward the window, hands clasped behind his back. "You're dismissed."

His words set off an alarm inside you, an immediate sense of danger that made you rise from your chair before you even realized it. "You're not planning something, are you?" Your voice came out sharper than you intended, but he didn't seem to notice—or care enough to respond.

Silence. A crushing silence.

You clenched your fists, abandoning any attempt to keep your composure. "You do know the Hoskel house is on the Piltover Council, don't you? If you try anything, it'll lead to retaliation. Zaun doesn't stand a chance against Piltover, and we both know it!"

Still, Silco didn't turn around. He remained by the window, staring down at the streets below as if his vision alone could shape the future. But you saw the way his shoulders tensed slightly at your words. He wasn't the type to tolerate doubt about his authority or power. No. He truly believed that Zaun not only could stand against Piltover but that it would one day surpass it.

Great. Not only was he egotistical, but he was delusional too.

"I said: you're dismissed."

You glared at him, hesitating for a moment. Every fiber of your being told you to push further, to insist—but deep down, you knew he wouldn't change his mind. Not now. So, against your will, you turned and walked toward the door, trying to contain the anger burning inside you. But just before leaving, you stopped, your hand hovering over the doorknob.

"This isn't your fight, so think carefully about what you're willing to risk for it." You paused, letting the weight of your words linger in the air. "You've already done enough damage to Zaun."

Silco's Pov━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

Silent treatments, in general, were a foolish strategy with Silco. 

First, because ignoring someone like him was practically suicidal. Second, because for a silent treatment to be even remotely effective, Silco would have to actually want to interact, to feel the urge to speak, or at the very least, to sense a need to break the silence. And that was nearly impossible. Silco wasn't known for being friendly, much less for enjoying idle conversation. He simply didn't have the time or the patience for it.

In the life he had chosen, friendships were dangerous luxuries—sharp knives that could pierce his back at the first opportunity. He knew this better than anyone. Trust was not something Silco handed out carelessly. Not anymore.

But with her, the rules seemed different.

It had been three days since their last encounter in his office, when the atmosphere had taken a tense turn. She had chosen a childish, prideful approach—complete denial of any words or gestures directed at him. And strangely enough, it worked. Silco, who would normally ignore such behavior without a second thought, found himself stewing over her silence as if it were a new kind of torture.

Not that he intended to do anything to fix the situation.

Both of them were far too stubborn to be the first to give in, each waiting for the other to break. Silco knew she was expecting something more—perhaps an apology, or at the very least, a kinder gesture than the way he had been treating her for the past few days. And maybe... maybe he should offer her that.

But how could he possibly mask his discontent?

He was already grappling with his damn confusing feelings ever since that morning in his bed, the unease of his men regarding her presence, and now this unexpected meeting. Everything he had meticulously planned had been derailed by an encounter he had worked so hard to avoid—her and Jinx, face to face.

The interaction had been brief, almost insignificant, yet it left an undeniable mark.

What truly caught his attention wasn't her behavior itself, but the way her shock seemed to overflow—something disproportionate to the situation. It was natural for her to be surprised, maybe even uncomfortable, but there was something in that look.

It wasn't just curiosity or apprehension. It was as if she were standing before someone she knew—someone from her past. Her expression was heavy with recognition. A recognition that made no sense.

Silco had done his homework, as he always did. He knew every detail of her past that could be known. She had no connection to anyone in Jinx's circle—not now, not before. Their worlds had never crossed, at least not in any way he had access to. And yet, there was something in the way she had reacted that shattered all of that.

As if she were staring at a ghost.

Silco didn't like gaps. He didn't like unanswered questions. He knew that information was the most powerful weapon, and in Zaun, where alliances were fragile and betrayals abundant, knowing more than others was the only way to stay alive. But for now, he set the questions aside. There was still time to investigate and uncover whatever the hell that woman was hiding—because, clearly, she was hiding something.

For now, however, he had other priorities. Like, for example, planning a kidnapping.

Marcus, as always, had hesitated. It was almost pathetic how much that man needed to be reminded of his place—and, more importantly, of the place he could lose. Silco knew exactly which buttons to press. He made sure to refresh the anxious Enforcer's memory about his imminent promotion to Sheriff, a position Marcus desired almost as much as he feared losing it.

Marcus's rise had been carefully orchestrated by Silco, and the thread holding him up was thin. Just as Silco had lifted him, he could just as easily let him fall.

The veiled—yet undeniably clear—threat was enough. Marcus accepted the orders reluctantly, but Silco knew the man would comply. He always did. He was the kind of man whose ambition was matched only by his fear, and Silco knew how to exploit both with precision. Now, it was just a matter of waiting. In a few days, Marcus would have information about this Cayden, and then the next move could be made.

The second priority stood before him, leaning against the railing of his room's balcony. She seemed oblivious to his presence, her gaze fixed on the frantic movement of The Last Drop below. The pulsing lights and muffled voices filled the space, but she remained detached, lost in her own thoughts. She didn't even turn to acknowledge him when he entered.

She was doing it on purpose, of course.

Silco slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal of the piece he had brought with him. It was a fine, delicate chain, made of pure gold, its links so small and flawless they almost seemed unreal under the light. The pendant, a small drop with a translucent lilac stone, caught the light in soft shades of purple and pink. Under the neon glow of the bar, the stone's shimmer seemed to pulse, almost resembling the hue of Shimmer itself.

Silco moved closer, his steps silent. When he stopped behind her, his chest nearly brushed against her back, and he could feel the slight tremor in her breathing. She didn't turn, but he noticed the subtle way her shoulders tensed.

With a careful movement, Silco lifted the chain, his fingers working with precision as he draped it around her neck.

He fastened the clasp with ease, but he didn't pull his hands away immediately. His fingers lingered near her skin, the warmth of it radiating toward him as the soft brush of his knuckles grazed her nape. There was something about that closeness—something intimate, something electric. He felt her body tense, as if she were fighting against the urge to yield to his touch. And he knew he could break that resistance.

But for now, he held back.

"Buying me with jewelry won't work, Silco."

"I know that." he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips—one that carried more intent than words. "But I made you break your silence, didn't I?"

When she didn't retort, Silco slowly moved to stand beside her on the balcony. He leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, his gaze drifting over the view below. Like her, he observed the club beneath them. It was a busy night.

Drink orders were being served at an impressive speed; groups formed and dissolved as people drank, smoked, or indulged in Shimmer. Some danced in the midst of the crowd, while others leaned against the walls, conversing in hushed tones that couldn't rise above the pounding music and flashing neon lights.

To most, it was the image of unrestrained chaos. To Silco, it was organized—and profitable.

"You know, a long time ago, this place was just a bar." he said, his voice low, tinged with a nostalgia so faint it was almost imperceptible. "Nothing special. Just a place for people to drink and forget their troubles for a while."

Silco leaned against the railing, his elbows resting on the polished metal, his gaze fixed on the restless crowd below. The music filled every corner, pulsing, reverberating—like a second heartbeat.

"It was a different time, a different world." he murmured, his voice low, weighted with something that almost sounded like longing. "But it had that—"

"Familiar feeling?" her voice cut in, finishing the thought, and Silco turned to her, slightly surprised.

He nodded slowly, acknowledging her insight.

"Vander had that feeling."

For a moment, something shifted in her posture. Her eyes seemed to lose focus, as if her mind had been pulled into a distant memory.

"You knew Vander?" Silco asked, his voice curious but laced with caution.

She gave a humorless, almost bitter smile. "Who didn't? He was the Protector of Zaun."

"I'll admit, Vander protected Zaun in his own way." Silco spoke like someone who had already chewed and digested every word before letting it out. "But he let our city stagnate, dove. He kept us trapped in a place where we could never evolve, never rise above the filth and misery we were forced to live in. He allowed Zaun to remain in Piltover's shadow, clinging to an empty promise of peace, one that could be broken in an instant if those above decided it."

Silco didn't look at her immediately, but he noticed the exact moment she turned her head, finally facing him for real. He could feel her gaze—a mixture of irritation and something else, perhaps a sliver of understanding. It wasn't the kind of attention he sought, but it would do.

"Vander did what he thought was right." she said, firm but lacking the vehemence that might have made the defense stronger. "He kept the Enforcers away."

"A temporary solution to a long-term problem."

He countered with cutting precision, leaning against the railing. His fingers drummed against the metal surface for a brief moment before stopping abruptly. He looked down at the sea of people in his club, moving as one pulsing, living organism.

"Humans have this instinctive fear of what they can't fully control." Silco continued, his voice taking on a near-philosophical tone. "Zaun isn't a city that bends to standards. It shapes itself according to necessity. It evolves, adapts. And that is exactly what makes it so unique... and so untamable."

Silco let a smile slip. Subtle, almost imperceptible—but he knew she would notice. She always noticed. Ever observant, she picked up the smallest details, even when she pretended not to care. He had meant every word he spoke. This wasn't a rehearsed speech or some manipulation; it was conviction. It was that certainty that kept him standing, even in a world that seemed determined to crush him. He believed in it the way a dreamer believes in an impossible dream.

"That's why those above treat us as unworthy of their attention. It's not just arrogance. It's strategy. It's their way of cementing their own fear. Because the moment they acknowledge us as a threat, something shifts. That idea spreads, grows, seeps into the fabric of society. They know it. They know that all it takes is a single spark to turn dust into flame."

It might have been just an impression, but there was something in her eyes that Silco noticed immediately. Beneath the mask of indifference she insisted on wearing, there was a glimmer—subtle, yet unmistakable. A flicker of something he recognized as interest.

"So, they ignore us. Treat us as irrelevant, invisible." he continued, advancing carefully, like someone who had just discovered fertile ground. "And little by little, that idea takes root inside us. We start to believe it. Believe that we are small, insignificant. That we are incapable of changing the world. And so, we accept the role they assign us."

Maybe he had touched something within her. Not much—just a spark, tiny, almost insignificant. But sparks, in the right hands, could turn into devastating wildfires. And Silco had always known how to wield the right words at the right moment.

He moved again. Silco positioned himself behind her, claiming the space with the ease of someone who already knew it was his by right. His hand slid to her waist—firm, but unhurried. The other reached for her chin, gently forcing her to look down at the club below once more.

"If a simple bar can change this much..." Silco's voice was low, almost a whisper, right at her ear. "Imagine what a city could become. Our people deserve more than just scraping by on the margins of what they could be, don't you think?"

He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a devil whispering temptations.

"We are a threat, dove."

She took a moment before responding.

"Peace imposed by force crumbles within days, Silco."

"Ah, but that's where Piltover, and you, are mistaken." Silco's voice dripped like smooth poison. "Peace is not the end. It's a convenient illusion they peddle to maintain control. What builds a lasting future isn't forced peace, it's well-cultivated fear. Piltover only respects what it cannot crush. They only yield to what makes them tremble."

Silco leaned in even closer, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of her ear. He noticed immediately how her skin reacted, the way it prickled under his proximity. It made him smile. Not an ordinary smile, but that slight curve of his lips—pure triumph.

"When they look at Zaun and see not a shadow, but something that threatens everything they have, that's when they'll recognize our true strength. We are not a dream of equality. We are the nightmare that will drag them from their throne."

The silence between them was filled with the music of the club. She was thinking, perhaps analyzing the logic in his words.

"Piltover is a fortress. A direct fight would be suicide."

Ah, she still resisted—at least in words. But her body, well, that was a different story. He felt it when she leaned in, the movement almost imperceptible, as if unconscious. The warmth radiating from her was tangible, a sharp contrast to the cold tone of her words.

Silco knew how to read the signs; her internal conflict was obvious. He could see how her morality wavered on a tightrope, caught between what she believed was right and the irresistible pull of his vision—of him.

Silco let his lips glide along her neck, tracing a slow, deliberate path. He placed light kisses and left marks where his teeth grazed the soft skin.

"And what's your suggestion, dove?"

She swallowed hard, the sound almost inaudible, but Silco felt the tension in her body when he pressed his lips against a strategic spot—right where her heartbeat pulsed the strongest. The way it quickened made him smirk against her skin. With one hand, he pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them.

"There's something both cities have in common." she finally said, her voice slightly unsteady but firm enough to catch his attention. "Their system of government. Piltover's councilors are the counterparts of Zaun's chem-barons. Both maintain their power through greed, through control. If you want to take Piltover, the only way is to destroy them. From the inside out."

Silco's eyes gleamed with interest. He pulled his lips away from her skin, but not before leaving a very visible mark there. His hand, however, remained firm on her waist, anchoring her in place.

"Elaborate."

"If you were to die, Zaun would fall into chaos. The barons would devour each other in an endless war for the position you left behind. People would be lost in that frenzy of violence, some driven by fear of dying, others by the thirst to kill. All of them desperately searching for something, a symbol, an idea that could give them hope."

The hand that had once held her chin now trailed down slowly, exploring the contours of her body, fingers tracing along her figure with a calmness that felt out of place for the feverish moment they were in. Silco felt it when she tilted her head back, granting him access as she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"And?"

"And then, someone would become that symbol. It wouldn't matter whether it was through peace or through fear. They would become something for people to believe in, an icon, an idea. And ideas..." she paused, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips parting just enough for a quiet sigh to escape. "Ideas are stronger than any power you could ever hold in your hands."

He moved closer, pressing her body against the railing of the balcony. The tension between them was palpable—every movement, every ragged breath filling the space like a silent duel. Her head tilted back even further as his lips found her neck once more. She let out a deep sigh, her fingers tightening around the cold metal railing as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored.

"Control the masses." she whispered, as if handing him a truth she knew he couldn't ignore. "Only then will you have your throne."

Silco's hand paused, his fingers hovering just a hairsbreadth away from the hem of her skirt, the anticipation of his touch a palpable, throbbing ache in the air between them. His other hand slid up her side, his palm cupping the soft swell of her breast, his thumb brushing teasingly over the hardened peak of her nipple through the fabric of her top. Silco could feel the way her heart raced beneath his touch, could hear the way her breathing grew more and more ragged with each passing second.

He nipped at her earlobe, his teeth tugging on the delicate flesh, his tongue soothing the sting with a slow lick. 

"How sure are you of this, dove?"

At the same time, Silco's hand slid a fraction of an inch lower, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her skirt, the tips brushing against the bare, vulnerable skin of her thigh. He could feel the heat of her flesh, the soft, silken texture that made him crave more.

"More than you think."

Silco felt a surge of triumph as he noticed her legs shifting, her thighs parting slightly to grant him access. It was a small concession, a subtle invitation. He didn't hesitate, his fingers sliding further beneath her skirt, his fingers trailing over the smooth, supple flesh until they reached the apex of her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, could sense the way her body trembled and ached for his touch. And as he slipped his fingers beneath the lace of her panties, Silco groaned at the feel of her, hot and slick and ready for him.

"Where did you learn such...things?" Slowly, almost teasingly, he traced the outline of her slit through the fabric. "Such dangerous, subversive ideas about power and control? Tell me, who put these notions in that clever, wicked head of yours?"

"At the Institute."

Her voice came out slurred, as if plucked from some distant corner of her already foggy mind. He didn't interrupt, nor did he rush her. He knew the value of well-placed silence.

"Piltover..."

She finished, her voice almost trailing off at the end. The answer hung in the air like an involuntary confession, and Silco felt the impact of it like an electric current running down his spine. Silco made a low, approving sound in the back of his throat as she blurted out her response, her guard clearly lowered by the haze of lust that clouded her mind. He filed away the information for later use.

He pushed the scrap of lace aside, slowly, almost reverently, Silco slid his fingers through her clit. He could feel the way her body clenched and fluttered around the sudden intrusion, could sense the way she struggled not to grind herself down against his palm, to ride his hand like a wanton creature in heat.

But even as he pleasured her, even as he felt her body start to tense and coil around him, Silco couldn't shake the dark curiosity that gnawed at him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"And what other things did you learn at that... Institute, dove?" he breathed, punctuating his question with a particularly hard, deep thrust of his fingers.

"I... I don't remember..." Her voice came out broken, a barely audible whisper, as her hips began to move against Silco, as if seeking an instinctive rhythm, something she couldn't control. "Everything was confusing..."

Then she turned her face toward him, her eyes red and bright, as if holding back tears she wasn't sure she wanted to let fall. The pleasure evident on her face seemed intertwined with something else—something deeper, darker. It was regret, he realized. Not the kind of regret that came from conscious choices, but the kind that grew from wounds that never quite healed.

"Please." she begged, her voice shaking. "I don't want to remember this."

For a moment, Silco didn't answer. He just watched her, his eyes roaming over her face, and he recognized that look, that mixture of pleasure and pain. It was all too familiar—he'd carried it so many times himself over the years. "You don't want to remember." he murmured, his voice low, like a secret shared only between the two of them. "But running away from it won't erase what happened." His tone wasn't consoling. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't cruel either. It was... direct. Ruthlessly honest. "However I can help you forget, at least for now."

He brought his fingers to his mouth, making a show of licking them clean, of savoring the taste of her arousal on his tongue, a heady, intoxicating blend of sweet and salt and something uniquely, devastatingly her. Silco groaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the taste, committing it to memory.

Then, he plunged his fingers back inside her, driving them deep and hard, the way he knew she needed, the way that made her cry out, a raw, primal sound that echoed through the night air. The balcony seemed to spin around them, the world fading away until there was nothing but the slick, obscene sound of Silco's fingers plunging into her dripping core, nothing but the way her body jerked and shuddered, nothing but the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps and ragged, broken cries.

"Remember, dove..." he breathed, punctuating his words with a particularly hard, deep thrust. "We're still in public, still out here where anyone could see..." He punctuated his warning with a slow, deliberate circle of his thumb against her aching, swollen clit. "All it would take is for someone to glance this way, to catch a glimpse of what I'm doing to you, and they'd know..."

The idea of ​​being caught, of putting on a public spectacle with his dove seemed torturously delicious. But even as he reveled in the forbidden thrill, Silco knew he had to be cautious, this sight of her was for his eyes only. So with a herculean effort, he forced himself to slow down, to temper the wild, reckless pace of his fingers with a more measured, deliberate rhythm.

"Shh... We don't want to give the crowd a show, now do we? No, this..." he breathed, his words a dark, sinful purr. "This is just for you and me. Our little secret." He nipped at her neck, his teeth tugging on the flesh gently, his tongue soothing the sting with a slow lick. "Now be a good girl, and keep quiet for me, hmm?"

Silco let out a low, dark chuckle as he watched she bring her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips in a desperate bid to muffle the wanton moans and whimpers that threatened to spill out. Even if the music was loud, and the people below them were completely oblivious, there was no guarantee that the noises wouldn't attract the attention of other people.

But Silco was not a man to rest on his laurels, to simply revel in the fruits of his labor without pushing further, without demanding more. No, he wanted to see just how far he could go, how close he could take her to the limit. With that in mind, Silco began to move his fingers with a newfound intensity, his hand pumping and thrusting and curling inside her with a fierce, relentless rhythm. He could feel her walls clenching and fluttering around him, could sense the way her body tensed and coiled.

And then, just as her eyes began to roll back in her head, just as her breath started to come in short, desperate gasps, Silco found it. That specific spongy, ridged spot. Silco angled his fingers just so, curling and stroking and rubbing against that spot. At the same time, the palm of his hand rubbed against her clit, always keeping up the rhythm.

He could feel her body tensing, her muscles locking, her legs in a failed attempt to close—pinning his wrist to her thighs, and her trying to pull her body away from his touch. Silco felt her flying over the edge into a mind-shattering, body-wracking climax.

Her scream of ecstasy was muffled by her own hand, her eyes squeezing shut as a gush of her hot, fragrant arousal flooded out around Silco's plunging fingers, soaking his hand, dripping down to splatter on the balcony floor below. Her body convulsed and shuddered, her hips bucking and grinding against Silco's palm as wave after wave.

But even as Silco revealed in his victory, he was not so cruel as to let her collapse in a heap on the cold, hard balcony floor. No, he gathered her limp, satiated body into his arms, cradling her against his chest, almost like a bride and taking her into the room to lay her on his bed. He would deal with the mess on his balcony later.

"Rest now." Silco murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble as he brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair from his forehead. "You've had a long day, and an even longer... night."

[...]

She had been growing more compliant with each passing week. Not in an obvious way, of course, but Silco recognized patterns better than anyone. It was subtle—the way her tone had lost some of its bite, how she no longer recoiled immediately at his orders, even the way her gaze held less defiance. He knew it was all part of a strategy. She was cunning, deceptive when she needed to be, and she knew how to play the game just as well as he did.

And yet, he had loosened her leash again.

There was a cruel logic to his decision—it was easier to keep the prey off guard when it believed itself free. If she truly wanted to escape, Silco knew there wasn't much he could do. Escorts, guards, traps—none of it would hold her. He had witnessed her skill before. So rather than force the situation, he simply returned the freedom they had initially agreed upon.

A month later, he knew he had made the right choice.

Of course, he never stopped watching. Carelessness wasn't in his nature, even when he made it seem otherwise. The guards' reports came in frequently, detailing her movements. Always out of her room, always walking around, observing her surroundings with an unusual attentiveness. Sometimes, she sat at the bar for long stretches, as if waiting for someone—or something. It was understandable, he admitted to himself. She had been kidnapped. Someone in her position would naturally carry a heightened sense of paranoia. Maybe that was what fed her restless energy.

But Silco knew it wouldn't last.

Not with Cayden in his hands.

Tracking him down had been a tedious task, but Marcus, as always, proved his usefulness. Memorizing his routine had been easy—he was predictable, a creature of habit. When the right opportunity presented itself, Silco hadn't hesitated to send a few of his men after him. The timing was chosen with precision—a moment of vulnerability, where any resistance would be futile.

But there was no resistance. He didn't fight, didn't beg, didn't even try to run. He simply surrendered.

That gave Silco pause. Either the man had seen this coming and accepted his fate, or—more likely—he had been instructed to let it happen. A sacrificial pawn on the board.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that Silco had a narrow window of time to deal with the situation. And, as always, he already had a plan. The incident would be framed as a botched kidnapping—an unavoidable clash with the enforcers, where both the victim and the kidnappers would perish. A tragic but clean ending.

It was then, in the midst of these thoughts, that Silco noticed Sevika's presence beside him.

Silco stood at the top of the staircase, leaning casually against the railing, but his gaze was fixed on a particular point. She had been sitting at one of the tables for about half an hour, a glass resting beside her, untouched since it had been set down. She was talking to the bartender, who was busy cleaning the floor nearby. She seemed at ease, almost relaxed.

And there was one detail Silco did not overlook—she was still wearing the necklace he had given her.

"He's not going to talk." Sevika stated, extinguishing the tip of her cigarette against the sole of her boot. The action was casual, almost indifferent, as if this were just another day in her life—and, in a way, it was. "That guy's too resilient to break. But he confirmed he was the middleman."

This only reinforced what Silco had already suspected: the boy had been discarded, nothing more than a pawn sacrificed by the true mastermind. A scapegoat loyal to a master who didn't even care about him.

"It's impressive how loyal he is." Silco mused. "Even knowing that keeping quiet means his death. Blind loyalty or stupidity? Hard to say." He paused, taking another drag from his cigar and exhaling a lazy coil of smoke that drifted up to the ceiling. "Either way, he's of no use to us if he stays silent."

"You want me to get rid of him, or do you want to handle it yourself?"

"Neither you nor I. This death is not ours to claim."

"Then who will?"

Instead of answering with words, Silco raised his cigar and used it to discreetly gesture in the direction he wanted Sevika to look. She frowned, clearly confused, before turning toward where he indicated, her gaze slowly traveling until it landed on the figure still seated at the table. 

His dove didn't seem to realize she was the subject of the conversation, but her head tilted slightly in Silco's direction, as if sensing the weight of his stare. And when their eyes met, she raised an eyebrow. The gesture was subtle, a silent question—what do you want? Why are you looking at me like that?

So dangerously unaware of what he was planning.

"She will."

Part 13

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I would be easily manipulated by him… By the way, did you know that the color purple has many meanings, including royalty, luxury, creativity, and mystery. It can also symbolize power, ambition, and independence. Just an addendum, Reader is not a completely good person, but I think you already knew that. So wait for the next chapters, there will be changes in our sweet dove... My classes are back, so let's hope I can keep up with the chapter frequency.

↓ ┊ TAG LIST ┊ ↓

@heidiland05

@defmxl

@rubyoff1cal

@silcoisatan

@edynmeyer1

@metamorphoserequiem

@casualunknownrunaway

@qlovalova

@kinavet

@aise-30

@bubbabobabubbles

@artist4theworld

@lovelyjulieee

@pollomoon

@celi-xxmoon

@starryhiraeth

@spntiel

@vxllys

@hotchners-wifey

@unadulteratedcoffeetastemaker

@ultrahoney

@mysteriouszer0

@thisisarcanereverie

@prettyrose189

@coffeesefied

@sarynnah

@apexie100

@mommymilkers0526

@mikimimic

@shugar0cone0alt

@sunshiines-stuff

@lynnieluvsu

@ficsamillion

@koshehehe

@hayleynott

@malkentaj

@twililty

@fandomsinthegalaxies

@mikuley

@anthy-j-ander

@angelsdemonsmonsters

@buggnuggies

@fudosl

@strwwbbrri

@taefect94

@angelzology

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I love your writing and I love that you post so frequently! Could you wrote a fic based on the scene in the finally in which Rupert tells West Ham's coqch to take Jamie out? Could be a separate story (maybe Y/N is Richmond's lawyer) and she finds out and wants to finish Rupert? Or in the P/A universe and Jamie teases her about being protective and caring about him after she stands up to Rupert?

Thanks!

Red Card

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes, angry Y/N, sexist joke from Rupert

A/N: I hope it's okay that I used your request for a Jamie Tartt x PA ff, I thought it fit so well. Thank you for the idea!

The energy in Nelson Road was electric. The stands were packed with Richmond fans, their chants echoing through the stadium as the team prepared for one of their toughest matches yet. The anticipation was palpable, the tension thick in the air, but none of it compared to the storm brewing inside her the moment she overheard Rupert Mannion’s words.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be standing on the sidelines during the match—technically, her job as Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant didn’t require her to be this close to the action. But after years of working with Jamie, she’d become part of Richmond’s inner circle, always hovering near the dugout with Roy, Beard, and Ted, ready to handle whatever ridiculous emergency Jamie threw at her.

But tonight? Tonight, she was glad she was there.

Because she overheard everything.

Standing just a few feet from West Ham’s technical area, she had no choice but to hear Rupert fucking Mannion—West Ham’s owner, snake, all-around waste of oxygen—lean toward his coach and murmur,

"Take Tartt out."

She had frozen, fingers tightening around the clipboard she had been holding.

"Hard. Do whatever it takes."

It was quiet. Calculated. Cruel.

Rupert’s voice was as smooth as it was poisonous, a quiet command given to West Ham’s coach, the kind of thing meant to be whispered in dark corners and carried out with no one the wiser. But she had heard it, and once she had, there was no way in hell she was going to let it slide.

It made something snap inside her.

Without thinking, she stormed across the grass, ignoring Roy’s “Oi, what the fuck are you doin’?” and Beard’s sharp “Y/N—don’t—”

She was already moving.

Marching straight up to him.

“Mister Mannion,” she said, voice saccharine-sweet with rage.

Rupert barely glanced at her. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Didn’t realize Jamie let his little assistant wander around unsupervised.”

She clenched her jaw. “I heard what you just said about Jamie.”

Rupert smirked. “Did you?”

“You told your coach to injure him.” Her voice was pure steel.

Rupert sighed, as if she were boring him. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Football is a physical sport.” He tilted his head, looking her over like she was some insignificant little thing he could swat away. “Though, I suppose you’d know all about being handled roughly. What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed?”

Y/N lunged.

Her vision went red as she launched herself at him, fully prepared to end him right then and there.

Before she could so much as grab the smug bastard, two line refs yanked her back.

“Let me go—” she growled, twisting in their grip.

Roy and Ted were already jogging toward her, Roy looking absolutely thrilled and Ted looking like he was suppressing laughter.

One of the refs shook his head. “Sorry, miss, but you’re outta here.”

She stood beside Roy and Ted on the touchline, fuming, while the referee held up the red card like she was some kind of violent offender.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Ted said, ever the peacemaker. “Now, I don’t wanna tell ya how to do your job, sir, but surely we can all agree that giving someone a red card when they aren’t technically a player is a little… excessive?”

“It’s the rules,” the ref said flatly.

“She doesn’t even play, mate!” Roy barked. “You can’t send her off!”

The ref shrugged. “Rules are rules.”

Roy, arms crossed, scowled so hard he looked ready to combust. “It’s a stupid fucking rule.”

“Stupid or not, she has to leave,” the ref insisted.

Y/N threw her arms in the air. “Oh, come on! I didn’t even do anything.”

The linesman coughed. “You tried to assault West Ham’s owner.”

“Tried being the keyword,” she snapped. “If you lot hadn’t held me back, I’d have succeeded.”

Rupert, still standing smugly nearby, let out a low chuckle. “My, my,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “I didn’t realize Jamie’s assistant was so… passionate about her job.”

Y/N whirled back toward Rupert. “You’re a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man,” she seethed.

Rupert only chuckled, waving his fingers at her like she was some little girl throwing a tantrum. “Run along now.”

The rage inside her burned.

“If anyone on West Ham lays a hand on Jamie, I swear to God, I will—”

Rupert tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “It looks an awful lot like you’re getting rather—” his lips curled into a smirk, “—emotionally involved with your client.”

The audacity of this man.

She felt the anger boiling in her chest, sharp and blinding, but before she could lunge, two line refs grabbed her arms, holding her back.

“Ohhh, I hate you,” she seethed.

Rupert just smiled, infuriatingly unbothered. “Careful now, boys. Wouldn’t want Jamie’s newest toy to get too scratched up before he inevitably trades her in for someone better.”

That was it. That was her breaking point.

She surged forward, only for the refs to tighten their grip, dragging her back toward the tunnel.

“LET ME AT HIM,” she yelled, legs kicking uselessly as she was forcibly removed.

“Jesus Christ,” Roy muttered, but there was unmistakable approval in his tone.

Ted just sighed. “Well, that went about as well as we could’ve hoped.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he dismissed her or the fact that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, but she let the refs drag her off, still spitting curses as Roy followed them, arguing the whole way.

Jamie, standing on the pitch, barely caught the end of it—just enough to see his PA being forcibly escorted out, Roy yelling at the ref, and Y/N looking ready to kill someone.

He frowned. “What the fuck?”

Isaac, jogging up beside him, snorted. “Mate, Y/N just got a red card. She got sent off.”

“Right. And… why?” Jamie blinked. “She ain’t even a player.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got more fight in her than half of us,” Isaac muttered.

Sam, ever the optimist, said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explana—”

“—Apparently she tried to murder Mr. Mannion,” Colin interrupted.

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuckin' hell.”

Jamie found her in the locker room after the game, sitting on one of the benches with her arms crossed, scowling at the floor.

She barely glanced up as he walked in.

He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirking. “So.”

She huffed. “So.”

He tilted his head. “Wanna tell me why my personal assistant got sent off the pitch? ’Cause, I gotta say, love, that’s a new one—even for you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Rupert told his coach to target you. To hurt you.”

Jamie felt something twist in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised—not really—but hearing it from her, hearing how angry she was about it…

It did something to him.

Before he could respond, she turned to face him fully, eyes blazing. “And then that prick had the audacity to say some sexist bullshit about me, and I—” She clenched her fists. “I snapped.”

Jamie smirked. “You snapped.”

“Yes.”

“And got dragged off the pitch.”

“Yes.”

“And got a red card even though you don’t play football.”

She groaned, rubbing her face. “Yes.”

Jamie couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Jamie.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

She scoffed. “Of course, I care about you. You’re my job.”

Jamie smirked. “And?”

“And nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Jamie leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You sure sure?”

Y/N shoved him. “Shut up, Jamie.”

He laughed, stepping back. “Alright, alright.” He crossed his arms, eyes still bright with amusement. “But just so you know—next time, if you’re gonna get sent off, at least make it worth it.”

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

And even though he teased her for it—because of course he would—he couldn’t help but feel something warm settle in his chest.

Because she had fought for him.

[theprioryorange]

team bonding - a jackieshauna x fem!reader series (part one)

pairing(s): jackieshauna x fem!reader

summary: in which jackie and shauna have been at each other’s throats for weeks now, bickering over the most insignificant things. one night after they have a ‘private talk’, they approach you with a confession & an idea which can help them bond and mend their friendship. (or! jackieshauna have a threesome with the reader to solve their issues because they both have been crushing on you for a while...)

tags ⎯⎯ ✦ best friends to lovers, threesome, rivals to lovers, smut, fluff, hints of angst, power bottom!jackie taylor, dom!jackie taylor, power bottom!shauna shipman, dom!shauna shipman, service top!reader, sub!reader, teasing, slight bullying, powerplay, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, degradation, praise, petnames, light bondage, slight voyeurism, edging 𝝑𓏲

warnings!: nsfw, graphic smut, explicit language, 18+ (minors pls don't interact!)

word count: 11.9k+

a/n: this is my first ever time posting any of my yellowjackets fics of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3, my username is jurinsanna if you guys ever read stuff on there :) w/ this fic although it's fem!reader i have tried to make it as inclusive as possible, there's no like super descriptive parts about the reader (their body type, skin colour etc.) so i hope nobody feels excluded

oh also the reader has glasses lol

It had been four weeks in the wilderness and Shauna was seriously pissing you off.

“I can’t believe we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and you’re still concerned about being better than me”, you groaned as you fed the fire more wood.

She looked at you and failed to see how you shifted under her gaze. “We’re gonna be rescued soon, asshat. I want to just keep up with my studies.” You tried not to laugh at how utterly ridiculous that entire sentence was; only a girl like her would be worried about her grades in a literal life-or-death situation.

Shauna’s most-likely snappy rebuttal was cut off as you both heard an impatient voice cough behind you. Jackie Taylor stood with all the confidence you expected of a popular high school soccer captain. She looked pissed off too. You fought the urge to roll your eyes but also bit back a little smile, it was always so funny when she was annoyed. She had been very annoyed recently, it seemed her and Shauna were arguing 24/7 about nothing and everything. Like fire and ice. They hadn’t seemingly meshed well in the past few days, it looked to be more than the fact the tensions were high and stress amongst the team was seemingly contagious.

“What are you two doing?” Jackie asked, eyes flittering between you like she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

“Sitting by the fire, what else would we be doing?” Shauna replied for the both of you, the fire hitting her eyes, giving the brown irises specks of gold that make you try to reign in the pull of desire you felt in your chest. Your classmate’s big brown eyes had been a weakness of yours ever since you had first met.

“I don’t know”, the confidence that seemed to be held in your captain dissipated in seconds. Jackie’s shoulders deflated and she uncrossed her arms like a child scolded. It seemed like only Shauna could do that, and maybe you, but there hadn’t really been  a chance for you to confirm that yet.

Captain Taylor was petty and bitter for a reason you couldn’t work out, you and Shauna could tell she wanted to say something else but couldn’t think of anything (much to her own embarrassment). You filled in the silence that was beginning to teeter on awkward: “Umm, well, do you want to sit with us?”, coughing awkwardly, you tried to avoid Shauna’s irritated glare.

“Okay”, the standing girl said with a voice that suggested she was pleased as punch, sitting directly next to you on the other side.

Sitting directly in between Shauna and Jackie was certainly interesting, the contrast between them always made you giggle, and shiver. Shauna sat with her legs apart, manspreading, her jeans splattered with mud and the blood of an animal you could not remember, her nails were short and blunt. They were painted as black as the abyss. Jackie’s manicured nails looked odd in comparison, and in general too, since you had been in the wilderness for around a month now. Her legs were crossed, and the shorts showed off the scrapes and bruises that littered her calves (her very perfect calves). Gulping, you looked ahead and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What?” Shauna asked you directly, fixing you with a suspicious glare, sometimes you wondered if she knew about the way you felt for her and her best friend. You tried to brush the thought aside, she was probably just being broody as usual.

“What?” You threw back, panic rising in your throat, “why are you looking at me like that?”

She doesn’t answer and lets up her gaze, instead staring into the fire once again, you try to push down the taste of disappointment. You had really wanted an answer to that question, every time the brunette looked you in the eyes it produced a feeling inside your chest that was akin to melting. The feeling of disappointment however was short-lived as soon you felt a weight on your other shoulder, the side that Jackie was sitting next to you; her head resting on your shoulder comfortably. Oh, Jesus Christ, you flushed bright red, sending a silent prayer to whatever God was listening that neither of them would notice how flustered you were from such a simple, friendly gesture.

It turned out either God didn’t exist, or if He did, that He was not listening, as when you gained enough courage to turn back to Shauna, her eyes met your own. You looked away quickly but didn’t miss the flash of something jealous that passed across her face. It at first made sense to you, really, she and Jackie were such close friends, or used to be, she was probably just jealous that you two were closer now. You and Jackie were childhood best friends after all.

Shauna currently hated the other girl though, so that jealousy was curiously placed. Or… you were just misinterpreting it.

“Dude, I’m so serious if we don’t get out of here soon, I’m gonna go insane”, Jackie’s voice penetrated the silence. She sounded stressed, a plausible reason why she was practically laying on you.

“We’re going to be fine, ok?”, you didn’t fully believe the words yourself but said them anyways as you gazed at her with concern swimming in your eyes, wanting to comfort your captain more than anything else. Shauna made a noise of amusement beside you, causing you to turn to her with a glare, it always seemed like they were unknowingly battling for your attention. Or at least you constantly struggled to decide who to give it to.

“What’s so funny?”, Jackie asked her best friend, voice laced with disgruntlement.

“I’m just thinking about how when we get back, I’m gonna kick Y/N’s ass on the midterm”, Shauna’s voice was light, and you could tell she was a) not intending to hurt your feelings and b) genuinely excited to compete against you again academically. It made you nostalgic somewhat, remembering all those times you compared test scores when you were little.

“You’re so not”, your reply came quickly and made the other laugh.

“I remember when we quizzed each other on enzymes, you barely got four out of ten”, Shauna was quick to remind you, making you flush. It wasn’t what she had said that had made you redden (seriously, you didn’t care all that much for biology right in that moment… at least not the stuff they taught on the Wiskayok curriculum), it was her tone. All playful and almost sultry.

Beside you two, Jackie groaned; “God, you two are such nerds.” She had never been interested in school as much as Shauna and you were – which was funny considering she did actually maintain straight As.

You and the other girl both turned towards your captain with matching twin glares, “We’re really not”, you protested.

She reached a hand up and playfully wiggled your glasses, “These tell me otherwise”,  you heard Shauna snort behind you and tried not to flush. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Shipman, you’re even worse”, Jackie laughed, carefully taking them off of you, you were about to protest, your vision already going a little blurry, but she soon was leaning over you. The dark blonde was pressed flush against you as she placed your glasses on Shauna, pushing them up the bridge of the brunette’s nose as she protested.

You tried not to squeal like a loser as you looked at Shauna, Jesus, the glasses were really cute on her.

“Looking good, Shipman”, Jackie teased. The taller girl huffed and took them off, handing them back to you with an apologetic glance. “Aww come on”, the popular girl protested. Jackie turned to you, a small smirk making its way gradually across her lips. “Don’t you think she looks good with your glasses, Y/N?”.

The question made you nearly faint, why was she asking that? It was clear Jackie knew what she was doing, from the way she was glancing at the two of you.

“Umm”, you hesitated, putting your glasses back on, of course you thought Shauna looked gorgeous no matter what, but it was embarrassing having to compliment someone so close to you. Especially when you had a massive crush on them and the person currently teasing you both. You turned to look at Shauna, instantly wishing you hadn’t, her big brown eyes held so much expectancy, she looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well? Did I look okay with them on?”,  she asked you.

The way she was looking at you made you want to cry. “Yeah, they look nice on you”,  your reply was quiet and nervous.

A small smile appeared on her face; you couldn’t see her teeth, but you could tell it was genuine. You couldn’t, however, tell that she was blushing. Jackie could though, ever so perceptive when it came to her best friend (and you, it seemed). “Aww, Shipman’s blushing”,  Jackie teased, she was still half leaning on you and didn’t appear to want to move anytime soon.

“I’m not blushing”, Shauna’s response was blunt but there was a hint of shaky embarrassment in her tone.

“Sure”,  Jackie drawled, not seeming to believe her. You didn’t know what to believe, mind too occupied with trying to figure out why Shauna cared so much about your opinion.

Soon they were both looking at you again, their gazes making you feel warm all the way down to your toes. Shauna took a moment to look at Jackie, before standing up, “I need to go help Taissa chop some wood, when it gets darker it’ll be too cold to do it”, her words made the feeling of desperation buzz in your chest. You didn’t want her to go, you wanted to stay there forever in between them on the cut-down tree trunk, saying nothing and doing nothing but listening to each other breathe.

“Duty calls”, you replied a little curtly, fighting the urge to lean into Jackie and fall asleep, she was so warm, and you were so cold.

Jackie stayed silent and Shauna made a move to leave, but not before pausing a moment to shoot a request to her best friend: “Could you meet me by the back of the cabin in like an hour? I need to talk to you about something.” The words made you nervous, even though they weren’t directed towards you, but Jackie didn’t seem to mind, instead giving her a thumbs up of approval before letting her arm drop again and wrap around your waist. After a moment she grabbed your arm and put it over her shoulder, your arm resting against her chest.

You and Jackie sat there for a while, your head leaned against hers, you could feel her heartbeat against the back of your arm, and it made you so tired you began to drift off. When you woke there was no one there but you, somehow the other had left without waking you up and had laid you down carefully on the log, leaving quickly, but not before laying a blanket over you.

The night air was cool, the fire had burnt out hours ago, and the hairs on your arms stood up as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you, standing to go inside. You could hear the other girls chatter inside and felt rather like you were about to go inside your home, it was odd how comfortable you all had gotten in that cabin. You wondered if in other circumstances the same sort of thing would have happened, the closeness. The door was opened slowly as you shivered on the porch, the girls went quiet at the site of you.

“Hey”,  Lottie spoke first, “you okay?”.

She looked concerned and you swallowed the feeling of affection that rose in your throat. These people were teammates, friends, fellow survivors, but they weren’t your family, you couldn’t think of them as such. The softness Van and Nat were looking at you with told a different story. “Uh, yeah, just fell asleep out there”, you said quietly.

Tai shot you a strained smile, “You want some food?”, she offered you an unremarkable selection of food: deer and berries. Your stomach made a sound as if it could see the food as well as your eyes could, Tai laughed a little, her smile real this time as she watched you grab a handful of berries.

Eating them quickly, you glanced around the room, “Where’s Jackie and Shauna?”, you asked.

Their places were empty and the girls around you shrugged, all except Misty, she regarded you with wandering eyes as she spoke; “They’re outside the back of the cabin, said they needed to talk privately.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; they had been there all this time? Surely you had been asleep for at least two hours, what “private conversation” took more than an hour?

“I’m gonna go look for them”,  you said, leaving no room for argument, walking past the girls and through the cabin till you were outside, this time leaving through the back entrance.

It was so dark you had to squint to see, even with your glasses on. Everything seemed still, all that could be seen was the lining of the forest. Trees for miles. You began to grow worried, searching with a little more fervour for the two girls as you realized it was way too cold and way too dark for them to be out here alone. Still not seeing much, you went round to the side of the cabin, near an area of forest, your ears were suddenly greeted with an assortment of sounds: rustling, heavy breathing, moans?

“Hello?”, you called out, thoroughly flustered.

The sounds stopped, before being replaced with muttered curses and panicked shuffling. “Shit, uh- hey”, Jackie appeared from behind a tree and approached you slowly, as if you were a feral cat and would run off with any sudden movement. She looked positively debauched, her hair was messed up and her t-shirt was scrunched halfway up her stomach. You could see a litter of badly hidden marks across her neck and chest. Questions were about to tumble out of your mouth, but you both were interrupted by Shauna coming out of the same private spot. She approached you two slowly, looking as roughed up as the other girl, her mouth was swollen and she was holding her flannel as if she had taken it off, she put it back on quickly, to you and Jackie’s shared secret delight.

“What are you guys doing out here?”, the question sounded shaky leaving your mouth and you thought you already knew the answer, but that answer seemed almost impossible, maybe even too good to be true - not that you’d admit to yourself that you’d think of it as that. It didn’t make sense, Jackie Taylor was the straightest girl you had ever met, and the most sexual interest you had ever seen Shauna show was towards her scientific calculator during the last physics test you had taken.

Not to mention the fact for the past week they had been arguing 24/7 and had been at each other’s throats since even before the crash. By the marks on Jackie’s neck though, you could guess this time they had taken the phrase quite literally.

“Oh, just uh, talking through some stuff. Working out issues, you know?”, Shauna sounded nervous, and it made you even more suspicious. But you probably had just read the situation wrong, right? You were cold and still slightly tired, the dark could have easily pulled tricks on you, especially with your poor eyesight.

“Right, um, yeah”, you replied, “you guys should probably come inside.” They nodded quickly and followed you round the side to the front of the cabin.

“But um, could we talk to you upstairs privately? Once we get inside?”, Jackie spoke from behind you as you approached the porch. You were flooded with apprehension and a twinge of excitement and pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Okay”.

The journey from the porch to the attic upstairs was eerily quiet, Shauna and Jackie seemed to be communicating in shared secret glances which made you feel twitchy and hot. What were they going to speak to you about? Did they not want to be friends anymore? The thought made your stomach turn. In just a few moments all three of you were standing in the cabin’s attic, the inside was a little warmer, so you dropped the blanket onto the floor where Shauna’s makeshift bed was. It looked oddly cozy.

Jackie spoke first, “So um, we wanted to talk to you about something, something we’ve uh… noticed.” Shauna nodded at her words, and they stepped a little closer to you, and each other.

You nodded, trying to keep calm, what the fuck was she talking about? “You know it’s, like, normal to have crushes on girls, right?”, she asked. The question was more rhetorical than literal, and it made your brain short circuit for a brief moment.

Your eyes widened. “What?”, the words were out before you could stop them. Shauna exchanged a glance with her best friend before elaborating.

“We’ve noticed you’ve been like, looking at us. I don’t know, I only noticed a few weeks ago when Jackie pointed it out to me, she said that you always stared at me. And then like, thinking about it, I realised you also always stare at her. You never really, like, show interest in boys or anything like that, so that’s the conclusion we’ve come to… and to be honest it’s the only one we can think of that makes sense.”

Jackie nodded with each word she spoke, seemingly comfortable with the idea that you had a crush on both her and Shauna or at least were somewhat attracted to them.

“We’re not mad or anything”, the light-haired girl rushed to clarify, anxious that you’d bolt off downstairs.

“Oh” was the only word that could come out of your mouth.

Shauna laughed a little, “I think we’ve broken her”.

Jackie laughed at that, before stepping a little closer to you with a teasing grin, “…We’re right though, about you liking us, aren’t we?”.

“W-what, I-I”, you stuttered before giving up on trying to talk to deny it, you moved for the door but were stopped by two hands on your chest as your captain stood between you and the door, blocking your attempts to flee.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, baby” Jackie pushed you roughly, laughing as you collided with Shauna, your back pushed against the brunette’s front as she held you in place.

“What?”, you were breathless, head turning to meet Shauna’s gaze - she looked almost ravenous. Turning back to Jackie, you realised she had a similar expression, one not too dissimilar from the one a wolf wore looking at its prey.

“You heard what she said” Shauna spoke from behind you, arms stilling your attempts to break free of her grasp. You didn’t really want to get away from her though, in fact, you wanted to sink into her arms as you felt Jackie’s soft wet mouth explore every yet undiscovered part of you. But appearances had to be kept up, it was a lot to take in all at once. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for you, they both saw right through you.

The girl in front of you laughed, “You know what me and Shipman mean, be a good girl and listen carefully now.” Jackie reached a hand out to trail drown your front, fingertips raising goosebumps down the soft flesh of your arms.

“Jackie and I, well, we’ve had some disagreements recently”, Shauna started to explain, but the cogs in her brain seemed to be whirring all too fast and she gazed at her captain slash best friend a little pleadingly, waiting for her to continue. Jackie seemed to notice her hesitancy and grinned, she moved closer towards you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She spoke then with a confidence Shauna currently did not have, or appeared to have anyway.

“I remember Coach saying one time that the best way two players could bond and fix whatever little problems they’d been having was by… actually, we want you to try and guess.” It was getting clearer by the moment that they were not going to make this easy for you.

You cleared your throat and tried to think back to what he had said, your mind came up blank, only thinking of the heat that Shauna’s front was producing by being pressed flush up against your back. You could feel how hard her nipples were through her bra. “I-I, uh, I don’t know”, your reply made them both laugh, Jackie smiled a little softer then, her eyes wandering to the girl behind you. You turned to follow her gaze, eyes meeting Shauna, the brunette leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel the warmth of her mouth near your neck and fought the urge to whimper. All composure was lost at the next word she spoke.

“Sharing”.

They let out twin sighs of desire as you made what seemed to be the most embarrassing and desperate noise of your life. “I think she likes that idea”, Jackie teased, running her fingers up to the hem of your t-shirt, they hovered there for a second before she grabbed hold of it, slightly tugging it up, exposing the skin of your lower stomach.

“Of course she does, she likes us”, Shauna grinned, her confidence seemingly growing by the second.

“Can I take this off?”, you were asked by Jackie, who was pressing her face into your neck. “It’s okay if you want to keep it on”. To them your comfort was more important than the amount of fun they got from watching you squirm, a small reminder that they had been your closest friends before anything else. They truly did care – a fact that made you comfortable enough to agree to their request.

You nodded. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your response though, so Shauna urged you further.

“Use your words, love”.

“Yes”.

“Good” Shauna hummed, moving back a little as Jackie pulled your t-shirt up and over your head. You could hear as their breaths hitched at the sight of you, you stood there a little nervous in only a black bra. “Wow” the girl stood before you spoke, always the first to give her opinion, “you’re beautiful”, she murmured.

“Jackie’s right, you’re gorgeous”, Shauna said, sounding almost out of breath - the brunette smiled a little and her eyes trailed down to the small of your back. As they took in your body you fought the urge to cross your arms across your chest, not because they were making you uncomfortable, but because you weren’t the most confident of people. Some people at Wiskayok had given you shit for your looks before, before joining the soccer team you had been pretty chubby, and none of the varying physical changes you had went through during your life had made a difference to the way you felt about yourself.

Jackie noticed your sheer nervousness, there was a glint of remorse and recognition in her dark eyes. “You don’t have to hide from us, ok? We love what we see, don’t we Shauna?”. Despite her shitty judgemental parents, and all the popular girl stereotypes Jackie fit, being cruel wasn’t one of them. Throughout your time being classmates and close friends with her she had always been in your corner. Right then was no different.

The same case applied to Shauna. The young woman in question nodded, moving forward so she could be pressed against you again. “Jackie and I are so excited to share you, just for us hmm?”,  the brunette was as close as she was before as her lips ghosted the side of your neck.

This time, Jackie moved closer as well, running a hand down your trembling body as she leaned in close to your face.

“Can I kiss you?”,  she asked, her voice was sweet, but her facial expression told a different story; it looked like she wanted to eat you alive. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let her. You would let Jackie Taylor and her very stubborn best friend do anything they wanted to you.

“Yeah”, it seemed right then you couldn’t give more than one-word answers, your voice trembled as she leaned in and kissed you sweetly, she tasted faintly like cherries. It was probably the lip gloss she still had some of, despite the fact you three had been in the wilderness for nearly a month.

Both of you heard the strange, desperate sound Shauna had made at the sight of you two kissing. Jackie laughed and turned to her best friend, “Do you like watching us? Being watched? I bet you wish she saw us outside earlier, don’t you?”, she asked Shauna as you turned to the brunette who was flushing profusely.

Your stomach was still buzzing from the kiss with your captain as you looked at the midfielder. “Yeah, I do”, Shauna replied, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught out, but mainly just wanton.

“Why don’t you give Shauna a kiss now, baby? She’s ever so good at it”, the shorter girl let go of you and gestured to Shauna, who stood behind you with a hand on your waist. You didn’t need to be told twice as you turned your head and took Shauna’s mouth with your own, the kiss was every bit as heated as your one with Jackie’s was sweet.

“Shit”, you, and Shauna could hear the light-haired girl beside you let out a noise of approval as she watched you two kiss. “Slip her some tongue, Shipman”, she ordered, the words made you almost choke, as well as the fact immediately after you could feel the other girl’s tongue swiping against your bottom lip for entrance. Shauna was always good at following orders and Jackie was always good at giving them - the girl was the captain of your team for a reason. The dark-haired girl tasted like the berries she had eaten that morning, there were also hints of… cherry?

Oh. So that’s why they were in the spirit of sharing. You hadn’t been mistaken thinking what you thought when you saw them outside earlier. The thought of the two of them together out there, kissing heatedly against a tree, made your knees weak - even more so when Shauna let out a whine into your mouth.

“You two are really enjoying yourselves huh?” Jackie observed, lust-blown pupils fixated on the point where Shauna’s mouth - and, god, her tongue met yours. You half expected her to pull up a chair and put her feet up to enjoy the show, but Jackie Taylor was never one to just observe, she loved to be a little more hands-on. So, really, you shouldn’t have been surprised when she approached behind you and moved your hair out of the way, exposing the soft skin of your neck. You moaned into Shauna’s mouth as Jackie began to place hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, she grazed her teeth against your throat and could feel your pulse against her tongue. You trusted her not to bite too hard if that’s what she wanted.

“Fuck”, you groaned as you could feel Jackie bite your neck lightly. Clearly the weeks in the wilderness had awakened some strange primal urge in the both of them, but you weren’t complaining. She didn’t bite you hard enough to draw blood, and kissed the mark she’d made on your neck to sooth it. Her lips were now at your collarbone.

“So cute”, Shauna pulled away from your mouth to praise you.

“I need you both so bad”,  your pleas were cut off by the brunette.

“Let’s take the rest of these clothes off, me and Jackie really don’t want anything in the way.” The dark-blonde-haired girl pulled away from your neck and tugged down your shorts, stepping out of them you noticed how fiercely they stared at your body. The idea made you simultaneously ecstatic and nervous, more so the former than the latter.

They moved you onto the makeshift bed Shauna had set up on the attic floor, it wasn’t the sort of thing out of a romance novel but the three of you really didn’t care, you all were too busy thinking about getting your mouths on each other.

“Why don’t we get out of these clothes too, Shauna?” Jackie suggested, stood above in front of you, she didn’t wait for the other girl’s response as she lifted the crop top over her head, throwing it carelessly to the floor near where your discarded clothes were. Next came her shorts, kicking them off like you had, they joined the small pile of clothes that had accumulated. Of course Jackie Taylor was wearing pink matching underwear, even when stranded in the wilderness fighting for survival, her bra had little love hearts printed on it, her panties however only had one small red heart right in the middle.

Shauna’s eyes were locked on her chest, and you fought the urge to laugh. Their desire for each other had been so obvious, even before you had nearly caught them earlier, or before they had made theirs for you clear, and you had been so oblivious to it all. The taller girl stared for a few moments longer before following suit, taking off her jeans, once she got to her flannel, both you and Jackie made noises of protest.

“Wait, wait, wait - keep that on, but take everything underneath off.”, you were relieved that Jackie was so outspoken in the bedroom, as you were thinking the exact same thing as she was. That damn red flannel would soon be the death of both of you.

“Ok”, Shauna murmured as she took off her t-shirt that was underneath and then put her flannel back on over her bra, she kept it open with the buttons undone so both you and Jackie could see her perfectly sculpted abs. Her bra was black like yours. You resisted the urge to look down, knowing if you caught a glimpse of her toned, long legs you would most likely pass out before you could get to feel them wrapped around your head.

Jackie grabbed her waist gently and pulled her close, leaning in for a kiss that was all tongue. She only pulled away for a moment to pause and muse over your lustful expression, “I think she likes watching us”.

Shauna laughed at her words before replying: “Let’s give our girl a show then”, she moved towards her best friend’s mouth with more fervour this time. You could both tell she was getting more desperate by the minute.

They were right of course, the sight of them kissing drove you fucking insane. You sat from your place on the floor and observed as they made pretty little noises into each other’s mouths, you wondered if today earlier was the first time they had kissed. Probably not. They were best friends after all. It seemed like Shauna noticed your desperation, as soon she moved out of Jackie’s arms and was kneeling in front of you, a hand trailing up your chest.

“Can I take your bra off baby?” She asked, you looked behind her to Jackie, who stood watching attentively.

“Please”, you replied, you wanted, no, needed, to feel Shauna’s mouth on your bare chest.

She unhooked the garment skilfully, leading Jackie to tease her. “Wowza, Shipman, you’re a bra pro.” Shauna rolled her eyes, flushing a dark crimson before finally removing your bra. You smiled at how flustered she got when Jackie teased her. Both of their eyes immediately went straight to your bare chest, “Holy shit”, Jackie breathed out.

Shauna hummed in agreement, a hand itching to reach out and grasp one of your breasts.

“You have like…really nice tits”, the standing girl sounded like she was going to pass out. You could relate to that feeling as Shauna gently moved her fingertips down your collarbone to the top of your right breast.

“Can I��?”, she trailed off. You nodded eagerly and soon Shauna’s warm hands were touching the most sensitive parts of your chest.

“Oh”, you breathed out as she thoroughly felt you up.

“You’re so pretty baby” Shauna’s voice was quiet as she leaned in and kissed you.

“Jesus,” Jackie said from behind the both of you, sounding the most turned-on someone could physically be. “Let me feel her now, Shauna”, her tone was barely controlled as she approached and Shauna protested a little, the noise being muffled by your mouth.

“Come on, Shipman, we’re supposed to be sharing her.” Jackie whined, and Shauna fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Fine”, she groaned as she pulled begrudgingly away from your mouth. It was flattering to watch them fight over your attention, a part of your brain was still convinced this was some elaborate joke – that all the rest of the team were about to jump out of the shadows and yell that you just got pranked. That hadn’t happened yet though, and didn’t look like it was going to anytime soon. They were serious about wanting you.

The realisation had your chest falling and rising quickly in the cold air but was soon warmed by Jackie’s breath. She sucked one of your nipples into her mouth, you gasped and tried not to moan, her muffled laughter causing vibrations through your body.

“You like Jackie’s mouth on you baby?”,  Shauna asked, sounding a little breathless herself. The midfielder opened her shirt so you could see her chest, she laughed when you flushed and looked away instinctively.

Soon Jackie was kissing up your chest, up your neck, and to your mouth: “Do you want us to touch you?”, she asked as Shauna moved to kneel on the other side of you. You nodded, too nervous and starstruck to form a sentence. “Hmmm, what do you think Shipman, should we give her what she wants?”.

The other athlete furrowed her eyebrows in thought, “I think she should work for it, like when we play soccer, you don’t just go for a goal immediately do you? You pass the ball, tire the other team out… that is if we’re still using the excuse that this is just one big team exercise for soccer.” Jackie cracked a grin at that. What Shauna was saying made you shiver, it was scary but exhilarating at how utterly powerless you were under their gazes.

Of course, you technically did have power and could stop at any time you wanted, but you liked feeling like they controlled you. “How can she work for it?”, Jackie asked, a cruel gleam in her eye.

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shauna turned to you then; pupils so blown with lust that her eyes looked almost black.

“I, uh, I don’t know”, your voice was unsteady, and you tried to hold back a moan as Shauna’s hands traced your breasts again.

“Aw, come on, I’m sure your slutty mind can think of something up”, Jackie laughed. Your face warmed and you shifted under Shauna’s hands, “I’m, “ - Shauna moved to pinch one of your nipples, “fuck, I’m not a slut.”

Shauna raised an eyebrow, “You’re letting your two best friends fuck you, that sounds pretty slutty to me”, her words made you squirm.

“It’s a good thing though, we like it”, Jackie added, moving to push your hair back away from your face.

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting to have you for literally forever.” Shauna’s words made you nearly choke on your own spit, how long had they been feeling that way? You imagined them sneaking glances at you in the locker room when you were all getting changed, or on the pitch when you would pour water over yourself to cool down during a drink break.

“Wait, fuck I’ve had an idea.” Jackie suddenly said, looking like a lightbulb had just gone off above her head. The amusing image was about to make you laugh until Shauna began to trace her fingertips lower down your body.

“What is it?”, you struggled to ask as Shauna’s fingers just reached the hem of your underwear, she looked up at you as if she was thoroughly pleased with herself. She was so mean, you loved it.

“You can put your mouth to good work.”

Oh.

“Shit”, Shauna laughed, “another genius idea I’m not gonna lie, I need to step up my game – poor baby looks like she’s about to pass out.” They teased you a few moments longer before Jackie began to grow impatient, needing your mouth on her.

“Is that something you want?” sure she was absolutely soaked through her underwear, but their priority right then was your comfort more than anything else. You were afraid if you opened your mouth you’d start begging, so silently (but very enthusiastically) nodded your head. Staying silent clearly didn’t save you from getting teased, as they cooed and giggled at your reaction respectively.

“Okay, baby, lie down for me”,  your captain instructed, the teasing tone from earlier being replaced with soft command. You wanted to ask how you could make her feel good with your mouth if you were laying down but trusted her enough to feel confident that whatever it was, was going to work out, so laid down. Shauna moved a few pillows behind your head, so that your neck wasn’t in an uncomfortable position, the consideration made your heart flutter.

“Shipman, help me take my panties off, will you?”, she asked a suddenly flustered Shauna as she unhooked her own bra and let it drop to the floor.

“U-uh, yeah, shit, sure.”

Next thing you knew, Jackie’s underwear was gone, and you were face to face with her pussy as she straddled your head. An embarrassingly loud noise left your mouth as you took her in. “You like what you see?”, she grinned from her position above you, you couldn’t see her face but could hear in her voice how much she was enjoying teasing you like this. Fighting the urge to immediately put your mouth on her, you bit your tongue and listened as they made fun of you.

“I bet she’s trying really hard to not taste you”, Shauna said, moving next to you so she could look at your face. “Jesus Jackie, she looks like she’s going to cry with how desperate she is”, she cooed.

Jackie laughed and wiggled her hips like she was taunting you. “Okay, okay”, she seemed like she was going to give you a break and lower herself onto your impatient tongue, “I’ll let her prove that she deserves to be fucked”. Your captain slowly lowered herself onto your mouth, with a moan she leaned her head back, pleasantly overwhelmed by the sensation of your tongue moving pressed flat against her clit. You moved downwards to her slit and prodded inside her with your tongue, hoping to find her g spot as soon as possible. It would be a complete lie to say you hadn’t given much thought to what your best friend would taste like, she tasted so good, and you knew you’d never forget her taste or her scent or the way her hands were now tangled in your hair.

“Shit, Shauna, she’s actually pretty damn good at this”, she spoke to you next: “have you had practice eating pussy baby?” You moaned into her and tried to respond but were too preoccupied with trying to get her to cum in your mouth as you needed to taste it desperately, your underwear was already soaked through but the things they were saying made them even more so.

“I don’t think she can talk”, Shauna chuckled, observing the way you kept going back up to Jackie’s clit to give it attention.

“Whatever, fuck, whatever she’s doing it’s- ugh- it’s working”, the girl above you sounded like she was drunk on your tongue, her words slurred and struggled. Shauna couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, of Jackie, of you? she couldn’t tell - but knew whatever it was, was outweighed by the sheer arousal that overcame her watching as her best friend rode your face.

Jackie began to grind into your face, deciding she couldn’t just sit still any longer, she needed to have control. You gave it up happily, as usual when it came to her, your hands reaching around to grab her ass and help her ride your face.

“Slap her ass”, the brunette ordered, you obeyed without hesitation and soon a small red print showed on the unmarked flesh of Jackie’s ass. Shauna moved around and kneeled so that her and Jackie were facing each other, almost face to face, she kissed her deeply.

“Fuck”, Jackie whimpered into her mouth, already close. The other girl grinned and tucked some of Jackie’s dark blonde hair behind her ear.

“I didn’t expect her to be so good at this”, the brunette mused, it was true, she knew you weren’t completely innocent but hadn’t expected for you to be this good.

“Well, she’s beaten your science test scores before so- “, Jackie’s broken words were interrupted by a moan as you began to suck on her clit, “I’d say she’s pretty much good, fuck, at e-everything now”.

The midfielder feigned offence, “Just because she’s good at eating pussy and science doesn’t mean I’m not”.

“Wanna prove it?” Jackie asked her through breathy moans with the hint of a smirk.

“Happily, but right now it’s about this little slut”, Shauna moved a hand down to stroke some of your hair surprisingly gently. Gentle was not a word to describe how Jackie’s fists were still gripping your hair though as she impaled herself on your tongue. They began to kiss again, and you’d have given anything to see them as well as hear them, the desperation didn’t last long as Jackie’s hips began to stutter.

“Fuck, Shipman, she’s gonna make me cum.”

Shauna laughed, kissing her again, “Go on, babe. Cum all over our best friend’s face.” It turns out Jackie Taylor could take orders as well as give them, as soon she was coming hard in your mouth with a loud cry. She tasted even better than you had imagined, Shauna had to steady her so she didn’t collapse on top of you, both of you calmed her as she came down from her orgasm.

“Holy shit”, the striker breathed out, legs shaking, you tried not to let out a noise of disappointment as she moved off of your face, instead opting to sit on your lap.

That feeling was short-lived though as she carefully bent down to kiss you. Jackie groaned as she tasted herself on your mouth, your other teammate watched for a moment before kneeling beside you so she could kiss you too. Shauna made a similar noise, “Fuck, Jackie, you taste really good.”

“Thanks babe”, Jackie grinned, still a little out of breath. She looked down at you with an expression of satisfaction, “I think you’ve proved yourself, what do you think?”. You didn’t nod or speak, still too dazed from your mouth being buried in Jackie’s pussy.

“I think she’s earned it”, Shauna spoke for you, kissing you sweetly on the forehead.

The other girl hummed in agreement, “How do you want us baby?”. A million images instantly flashed into your head, all more vulgar than the last - the sad truth was you wanted too much. Wanted them too much.

“She’s always been indecisive, Jackie. Let’s just make her take what we give her, hmm? I’ve got a few ideas.” Shauna’s words made your head swim, a few ideas could mean anything.

“Such as?”, her best friend asked, the brunette simply smirked and moved in closer to the other so she could whisper something into her ear. You tried hard to listen to what she was saying but couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your own heart.

The idea seemed to be a good one though as Jackie almost gasped with excitement as she turned to Shauna, “Oh, fuck, Shipman, you’re a kinky one aren’t you?”

The taller girl blushed to her friend’s delight, “Shut up”. Your eyes darted between them, what had Shauna suggested? The thoughts were interrupted as the midfielder began to take her flannel off, you bit your lip to keep from protesting, knowing seeing her bare chest would be worth the price to pay. To your surprise though she didn’t move to take off her bra, instead taking the shirt in her hands and adjusting the sleeves. Whilst she done that, Jackie got off of you and offered you a hand to help you get up.

“Get up and kneel”, she commanded once you were on your feet again.

You obeyed immediately and found yourself then kneeling on the floor of the attic, shaking with barely contained anticipation. Shauna stood only in her bra, the red item of clothing still in her hands, “Hands behind your back”. The young woman’s tone was blunter and more to the point than Jackie’s, less interested in teasing you and more interested in getting exactly what she wanted then & there.

A hint of confusion washed over you, but you trusted and  obeyed her anyways, moving your hands behind your back. The two girls observed you with mischievous smiles, “She’d do anything we’d ask, huh?” Jackie mused, sitting and watching as Shauna stepped forward.

The brunette took the flannel and began to bind your wrists with it, using it as sort of makeshift rope. Oh, she was tying you up. The fact it was with the flannel made it even hotter, Jackie thought so too; “We really like when you wear that, you know? It looks sexy on you.” Shauna blushed, it was a common sight with how easily flustered she got but never failed to make you and Jackie both smile. You unfortunately couldn’t see her face though in that moment, your face turned towards the wall as your best friend tied you up. Once she was satisfied with how tight she had bound your wrists and walked around you, so you were at eye level with her very toned stomach.

Shauna’s abs were a godly sight and you had to keep your mouth closed shut, scared of saying something incredibly pathetic about how much you wanted her inside you. She tilted your head up so you were gazing at her face, “My eyes are up here”.

You turned red as Jackie laughed behind you from her position on the blankets. “C’mon, stop teasing us and just take your clothes off!”, your captain exclaimed, her tone was playful, but it was clear she was growing impatient. You couldn’t help but agree, you had spent all too long fantasising about what the brunette’s tits looked like.

Shauna rolled her eyes, but her hands moved to the back of her bra to unhook it. She let the black garment drop to the floor and your breath hitched, you could barely handle the sight of Jackie’s chest, let alone hers as well as Shauna’s. They were going to be the death of you.

“Wow”, Jackie’s eyes raked over her best friend’s nearly naked body, “I mean wow”. Her words summed up your thoughts about your teammate perfectly.

Shauna shot her a nervous but appreciative smile, before looking down at you. “What do you think?”, it was like an odd mirror of your interaction earlier - except instead of asking how your glasses looked on her, this time she was asking how she looked without anything but panties on.

“You look beautiful”, you struggled to say, her whole body seemed to thrum at your praise.

“Thank you, baby… now”, she began to speak, glancing over quickly at her captain, “I was hoping you’d show me how good you were with your mouth, I mean Jackie got to feel your tongue, so it’d be unfair if I didn’t.” You let out a breath, cursing the fact your hands were tied as you felt the need to steady yourself. Her words made you lightheaded with desire.

“Please let me”, you spoke, trying to not ramble. She grinned and kissed you, guiding you back to where Jackie sat.

Shauna laid down, moving so that you were kneeling in between her legs. Jackie got up and kneeled behind you, beginning to kiss your neck, “Shauna was also thinking that whilst you showed her how good you were with your mouth, I could make you feel good with my fingers. It’d be cruel to make you wait longer, right?”

The idea made you shiver and had appeared before in some of your wet dreams. Jackie’s fingers were long, you had always bet that they could reach all the places deep inside you that needed to be reached.

“What do you say baby?”, the brunette in front of you asked, looking at you both for approval.

“Okay”, you nodded desperately, Jackie smiled against your neck and reached a hand around your stomach, moving downwards towards the hem of your underwear.

Just as she was about to move her hand inside, she stilled and pulled away, “Actually, let’s see you make Shauna feel good a bit first, she needs to take those panties off.” You could see Shauna try to hold in a grin at how mean she was being to you, you took in a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Can you take my panties off for me?”, your taller teammate asked you, moving her waist upwards so you could easily move the underwear down past her hips. You were going to joke that you couldn’t since your hands were tired (quite literally) but realised she hadn’t forgotten that. They meant they wanted you to take them off with your mouth. Jesus, had half the novels Shauna had been recommending you this entire time been erotica? Where did she get all these ideas from?

It wasn’t to say though that you were complaining, nodding, and wasting no time in getting them off with your teeth. Once they were off both you and Jackie let out a noise at the sight of her, yours more a whine, hers more of a groan.

“Shit, baby, I’m jealous you’re going to get to taste her”, Jackie told you, trailing her tongue lightly against your pulse point. You squirmed at the words as well as the sensation, as they put the idea of Jackie eating out Shauna into your head. You prayed to whatever God that was listening that there was a chance you could see that in the future, no matter what happened to you guys out there after that, you’d die happy.

Shauna leaned her head back against the pillows, “Don’t worry you’ll get your chance”, she told her so matter-of-factly it made your stomach tingle.

Captain Taylor pulled away from your neck, “Good”, her reply was blunt, but you could tell on the inside she was ecstatic. Who wouldn’t be excited at the idea of a chance to eat out Shauna Shipman? You certainly were.

“Bend over then and tongue fuck her, or are you going to stay there all day?”, Jackie moved back and was growing impatient by the second. You were a little nervous but weren’t taking your time on purpose, just more in awe at the sight of a very naked Shauna Shipman, you liked it when your captain snapped at you though.

Shuffling back a little, you bent down so your face was in front of Shauna’s cunt. The brunette let out a half moan, half sigh as you licked a long stripe from her entrance all the way up to the top of her swollen clit. “I’d let you use your fingers on me too, pretty girl, but I really like the sight of you tied up. Bet Jackie does too.”

Jackie hummed in agreement, letting one of her hands trail across your ass. She was itching to get her fingers inside of you, but didn’t want to let you know that. Suddenly, the sound of a loud slap rang across the room as Jackie’s hand connected with the left side of your ass.

“Fuck”, you cried out, voice somewhat muffled by your best friend’s soaked core.

Shauna barked a laugh, “Oh fuck, she likes that, hit her again.” The striker slapped you again, the brunette in front of you closed her eyes and savoured the sound of Jackie’s palm making contact with your soft flesh. There was no denying your teammate had a hunger for violence, from her dangerous plays on the pitch, to her short temper and tendency to get into fights. So, there was little surprise when the discovery was made that Shauna Shipman was a bit of a sadist in the bedroom.

Jackie regarded the sight with equal lust and fascination, she was excited to figure out all the things that really made you melt. Things that would make you squirm, all your weaknesses that would make you do anything she asked you to. That would make you hers.

“Suck on my clit, baby”, Shauna moaned, her hips bucking up so her cunt could meet your mouth. You did as she said, taking her clit in your mouth and sucking firmly, your hands desperate to move around to her pussy, but the efforts in trying to untie the flannel were futile. Plus, you couldn’t risk ripping the fabric of that thing, it was the best thing in Shipman’s entire closet.

Shauna tasted amazing; they both did. You came to the realisation that you could do this for hours, days even, if they’d just let you.

“Do you want my fingers now?”, Jackie asked, watching as Shauna whined and writhed under your mouth’s ministrations. You pulled away for just a second to answer your captain with a plea, but Shauna still groaned in protest and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back down again. She never was patient.

Jackie took a hold of the hem of your underwear, pulling them down, she was going to ask you to move so she could take them fully off, but glanced at the almost feral expression that Shauna had and decided otherwise. If you were taken away from her at that moment the brunette would’ve most likely committed murder.

Jackie took in the sight of you and sighed, “God, you’re so fucking pretty”. The praise made your heart flutter and heat flood in between your legs, which were trembling from sheer desperation and adrenaline. You wanted badly to thank her, but your tongue was too preoccupied moving inside Shauna. It seemed you had found her sweet spot, as she began to squirm even more, her gasps and moans rising rapidly.

“Jesus, Shipman, you’re already close and I haven’t even stuck a finger inside of her yet. Don’t you want to cum together?.” Her words made you smile, it seemed like you really were good at getting them off, it made pride swell inside your chest. From now on, your biggest achievements weren’t going to be soccer championships, perfect test results, or all of that crap. They were going to be how fast you had made Shauna and her equally sexy best friend cum.

“Uh, fuck- “, the midfielder was about to retort something back but was cut off as you began to suck on her clit again, “I recall you didn’t l-last that long either, bitch.” Ah, she could deliver a good come back even in the midst of being given oral, your admiration for Shauna grew daily. The sting of the insult was mainly lost though this time as her voice shook, it was slightly shameful how something that felt like a bolt of electricity shot straight down to your core when you heard Shauna say the word “bitch” too.

Jackie seemed to notice your reaction, “Oh”, she laughed, a hand palming your now bare ass.

“What?”, the other grunted, breathing getting heavier as you took all the wetness she gave you.

“She seemed to like it when you called me a bitch”, the shorter girl said, soft fingertips trailing down to ever so gently brush against your slit.

“Of course she did, the little slut.” Shauna teased, she began to pinch her own nipples, rocking her hips upwards as you got her off with your tongue.

“Gosh, she’s pathetic”, Jackie breathed out, tone half fond and half in awe as her finger moved down and under to slowly circle your throbbing clit.

“Good with her mouth though”, the other replied. She had certainly found a great way to pass the time in the middle of nowhere. Shit, even if you guys were back in civilisation your tongue was certainly something Shauna would forgo a study session at yours for.

Your captain finally showed you mercy as she applied pressure directly onto your sensitive bud, moaning into Shauna’s pussy, you shifted so that by some luck her finger would be pushed into you.

“Want me inside?”, Jackie asked, begrudgingly moving her hand to tease you further, nearly as worked up as you were from all the teasing. Keyword: nearly, the lucky bitch had already came, she was already wet again though. Your captain knew you couldn’t reply, she was asking not for an answer, but to rile you up even further, she wanted to see you to beg for it.

“She’s been a good girl, Jackie, just fucking give her what she needs”, Shauna said, you knew she was only defending you because she was desperate to cum and right then only your tongue could get her there. If the brunette wasn’t so desperate, she’d definitely tease you along with her best friend.

There definitely was something stirring about her calling you a good girl though, since you were academic rivals as well as close friends, compliments from Shauna were scarce, the sappy side of her only coming out when she was drunk. You knew she loved you both, and knew that she cared, she just usually showed it in quieter, more subtle ways. Like driving you to and from school, picking up your favourite snacks, and always bringing an extra pen in case you needed to borrow it during the English class you shared together.

It seemed Jackie had agreed with the other girl’s statement as soon you could feel her index and middle finger enter you slowly. You moved back onto her steadily, she grabbed a hold of where your hands were tied together with Shauna’s flannel and used it to pull you onto her long fingers, controlling how fast or how slow the drag of them inside you was. “Shit, you’re so wet”, she whimpered.

Your tongue flicked against Shauna’s clit as Jackie let go of your tied wrists to play with yours. “You’re so good at eating me out baby”, the brunette praised, moving some of your hair out of your face, not wanting it to get in the way and bother you. The way she was caressing your face made you feel loved, it was a feeling that burrowed itself deep inside your chest. “I’m gonna cum”, the midfielder whimpered, basically riding your face now. You desperately needed to breathe but didn’t dare pull away - scared that you’d ruin her orgasm.

Plus who needed oxygen anyway? Your best friend’s pleasure was way more important than breathing.

Shauna came with a scream, her thighs keeping your head there as her cum flooded your mouth. God, even then you wanted more, it was scary to think you might never be sated no matter how many times she came. You eased up a little and licked her gently as she felt the aftershocks of her orgasm, moaning as the dark blonde girl’s fingers still worked inside you.

“Fuck”, Jackie groaned and to your disappointment, stopped moving her fingers, “that was like the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”. The other girl laughed, very much dazed and out of breath. You kissed Shauna a few times on her clit and inner thighs before deeming it okay to move your head away. You caught your breath as you rested your forehead against her thigh.

“You done so well baby”, the taller girl muttered, eyes closed as she ran a hand through your hair.

“Thank you”, you said, trying not to smile. You would’ve let the compliment override your brain completely, however your mind still was preoccupied with Jackie’s fingers that were still inside you.

“No, thank you”, Shauna’s voice was soft, “Babe, stop being so mean and let her cum - she deserves it”, she continued. The post orgasmic daze was making her softer, it seemed.

Jackie huffed fondly, taking the opportunity quickly to help you remove your underwear fully. They joined the pile of other clothes on the attic floor. “You’re going soft, Shipman. Of course she deserves to cum, but it’s fun to play with her”. With the words ‘play with her’, the striker began to move again and curled her fingers upwards deep inside you. You let out a strangled moan against Shauna’s thigh.

“There we go”, Jackie cooed, moving her other hand around so she could continue to play with your clit. It was as if she had done this before to someone else, as she knew exactly where to put pressure and where to just graze gently. The thought of either of them with anyone else made jealousy burn hot in your blood, pushing away the thought, you focused on what was happening now. Shauna observed a few moments longer before getting up so that she was sitting in front of you, holding you up, she kissed you soundly, groaning as she tasted herself on your tongue.

“You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?” Shauna asked as Jackie put more pressure against your clit, rubbing small circles as the fingers of her other hand reached near your g spot.

You nodded, struggling to speak, a flurry of whimpers escaped your mouth as the sound of Jackie fingering you rang out across the room. The three of you knew the girls downstairs had definitely heard at least one of you by now, but you didn’t care, the only things on your mind were Jackie, who was now hitting your g spot, and Shauna, whose tongue you took into your mouth greedily. “God, you’ve always belonged to us”, Jackie spoke this time, her voice was unlike you had ever heard, it was as if something raw and primal was rising in her throat.

“Even before now as we’re fucking you”, she continued, every thrust of her fingers causing the familiar sensation in the bottom of your stomach to tighten. “I bet you’ve been waiting for us to do this, huh? Waiting around, following us everywhere like a lost little puppy, hoping we’d fucking notice you and just-“, she groaned as she felt you tighten around her fingers, “just fucking wreck you. We’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t we?” Her words made you melt into a puddle of desperation.

Shauna pulled away from your mouth, you could tell by the expression on her face that she absolutely loved the things her best friend was saying. “Shit, you’re right”, the brunette agreed, “I wanna know how many times you’ve touched yourself thinking of us baby, I wanna know when you do it.” She was practically whispering into your ear now, filthy words only you and Jackie could hear. “Every time after practice? When you see us in our soccer kits and just can’t help yourself? After we hang out or after our study sessions? I bet you’ve imagined me just swiping all the fucking flashcards off our desk and throwing you on there instead”.

Jackie laughed. “I wish that was on the biology curriculum, wanna let everyone know your ours”.

It seemed as if Shauna was working herself up again with the things she was saying: “I bet you’d love us to fuck you all in front of all of them downstairs, hmm? Let Tai and Lottie and the rest of them know you belong to us”.

At her words, and the mention of your teammates (who, despite your heart belonging to the two girls you were with, you were also desperately attracted to), you let out an obscene sound which could be only described as you losing whatever shred of self-respect you had left. Moving back and forth on Jackie’s fingers, you leaned forward and crushed Shauna’s mouth against your own, not only needing to feel her lips against your own and her tongue in your mouth. But to also get her to shut up because if she kept saying things like that, you’d either cum embarrassingly quickly or pass out and die.

Your efforts proved futile though as Jackie kept hitting places deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “Are you close?”, she teased, knowing you were about to cum all over her hand. Whining against Shauna’s mouth, you tried to squeeze your thighs and keep her hand there, knowing what she was probably going to do next. Just as you reached the edge, you felt her pull out of you. Her laughter rang in your ears as you teared up with frustration.

“Fuck, Jackie, that was so mean”, Shauna’s words seemed angry, but she was laughing, secretly just as deliciously cruel as her best friend.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was just too tempting,” she apologised to both you and Shauna, knowing how much you had wanted to cum, and also knowing how much Shauna had wanted to watch you cum. Mainly to you though, as she could definitely see how wet you were from her position kneeling on the floor behind you.

“Please”, you pleaded, “I need you inside me, Jackie.” She let out a sigh of affection, rubbing your back a little whilst she contemplated whether she was going to let you cum this time, or be even crueller and deny you for a second time.

“Fine, my sweet girl. You’ve got me going soft for you, so better appreciate it.” She entered you again, instantly pressing up against a spot she knew drove you wild. You rambled gratitude to her as she used the fingers of her other hand to flick your clit.

Shauna peppered kisses across your face, glad that her best friend had finally decided to show you some mercy. “You’re taking her fingers so well, my love”, the midfielder said, grasping your face gently with both hands. You seemed to melt under both of their touches, Jackie’s more so literally as wetness ran down your inner thighs.

You were close again already, struggling to not cry out so loud the entire wilderness could hear you. The girl in front of you helped muffle your desperate whimpers as she kissed you again on the mouth with so much fervour your teeth nearly knocked together.

“Back onto me, yeah, just like that”,  you could hear Jackie demand. “Cum for me, please, fucking cum all over my hand baby”, she was begging now.

The words sent you tumbling over the edge and your vision nearly went blurry as you came all over Jackie’s hand, your wetness running down her forearm. Shauna had to hold you gently to keep you steady, so you didn’t fall face-first onto the floor, she chuckled and kept kissing you to drown out your moans.

The striker ceased her ministrations on your clit, not wanting you to become oversensitive to the point of pain, instead fingering you slowly as you came down from your orgasm. “That’s it”, she gently guided you, running a hand up and down your back as Shauna kissed your forehead sweetly. A few moments were taken as you caught your breath, basically sandwiched between them.

When you seemed steady enough, Jackie pulled out of you and moved to untie your hands. You grunted as you stretched them behind your back in relief, trying not to grin as you realised that meant you could now pull her and Shauna closer to you. You, having grown a lot bolder, sat up and reached behind you, gesturing for Jackie to come and kiss you from behind.

She did as you had hoped, wrapping her arms around your waist she placed a kiss against your neck, kissing her way up to your cheek and then across to your mouth. Soon you could feel Shauna’s mouth on you too, kissing your cheek sweetly, Jackie pulled away so that the brunette could kiss your lips too.

“Well shit, that was fun.” Jackie laughed, Shauna moved from you and captured Jackie’s mouth with her own. They kissed with closed mouths for a minute or so before Shauna got impatient and opened her mouth so she could feel Jackie’s tongue against her own. The sight of them together made your heart swell, a pang of regret seized you that you didn’t get to see them make each other cum, but that was quickly soothed realising that tonight was about you. You’d get plenty of opportunities to see them together in the future.

“Sure was. What did you think baby? You enjoy that?”, Shauna asked you, you lowered your head, flushing.

They laughed, “Don’t act all shy now”, Jackie teased. You didn’t reply, fearing that if you opened your mouth, you’d say something incredibly cheesy.

“The girls are all probably asleep, we need to get some sleep too I think.” Shauna’s voice was gentle as she pulled away from you both and stood up, gathering all your discarded clothes as well as her red flannel that had been untied from your wrists. She took some time folding them neatly as you and Jackie sat as she held you.

You were secretly glad that they didn’t seem to be making a move to put anything on, you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of being naked around one another. Your confidence still wasn’t ideal, but they had just proved to you that they loved every part of you no matter what. You could tell Jackie felt the same way too, with the quiet way she had kept looking down at her body when she had first taken her clothes off. She acted confident but she was just like any other young woman.

It was relieving to believe someone when they told you they loved you, let alone two someones. That night when you, Jackie, and Shauna fell asleep in each other arms, not even the dread of tomorrow could creep into your chest, as it was already full of love and comfort and a warmth so unfamiliar it made you want to cry.

The next morning wasn’t much different than usual, except for the fact all of the girls couldn’t stop staring at you, when you would catch their eye, they’d look away quickly as if they were embarrassed.

Shit, they had definitely all heard you three.

a/n: welp, that's it for now goobers, tune in for part two (and possibly three ;))

[patchwork-crow-writes]

(tags by @festbug)

First off, thank you for the tag ramble! lots of interesting additions to my original post, which I appreciate :) Regarding Alvin and his potential role as the Knight, one detail I always think about is how a lot of people think his name's an anagram for "Vilan" (as in, Villain), but I actually think it might instead be an anagram of "Anvil" - as in, the big block of iron you hit with a hammer - a hammer not unlike the one that Gerson was buried with - in order to shape metal into a more useful form, usually a blade - that could perhaps be used to make future dark worlds. I think that's an interesting detail if intentional, and indicates if nothing else that Alvin and more than likely Gerson's hammer are going to play a not-insignificant role in a future chapter.

Ralsei's surface-level similarities to Asriel is something I deliberately omitted from this post, and from a lot of my work actually. I'm very much in the camp of their supposed similarities being a big misdirect, and that Toby is relying on people familiar with Undertale to make those connections themselves. Thing is, once you start scratching the surface, you realise that Ralsei actually has much more in common with Kris than any incarnation of Asriel, which I think is pretty telling, especially when you consider the likelihood of Ralsei being related to Kris's old horned headband. You are correct, however, in saying that Ralsei does indeed struggle to distinguish himself from Asriel in the eyes of much of the fanbase. You do wonder how much of that is intentional, haha.

Deltarune's Asriel, on the other hand, is another really interesting facet of this idea of "legacy", in exactly the way you describe in your tags. He's lauded as the town's golden boy, universally popular, good at everything, and it's clear that image has persisted long after he's left for college. But as you say, it's not likely that he'll live up to that image by the time he does appear in the story proper. It's the classic "big fish in a little pond" problem - Asriel's an ace at everything compared to the relatively small population of Hometown, but at college, where he's probably going to come across hundreds of people just as smart and talented as he is? I would be surprised if disillusionment doesn't set in and he begins to see that his role as Hometown's star pupil is just that - a role that others put upon his shoulders. A role he was happy to play, but one that may no longer ring true for him.

And this was kind of what I was getting at with a character's legacy becoming a limiting factor in their growth. I would be interested to see how he relates to his former status back home, whether he'll embrace it again or grow resentful of it as people see what he was and what he represented at that time, rather than the person he is now, whoever that might be. And that's really interesting to me.

Thank you again for the thought-provoking tag rambles! It's always appreciated :D

Deltarune is about many things - about growing up, about fantasy and reality, about games and how we as players interact with them... but it's also about legacy.

Yes, in the big meta sense, it's about how this game is following up from Undertale, one of the most beloved and successful indie RPGs of all time. But also you have Kris learning to live outside of Asriel's shadow, you have Noelle struggling to cope with her sister's disappearance and her father's illness, Susie flailing around for a foothold in a new town with peers who don't like her very much, Berdly doing his utmost to live up to his "smart genius" label so he can actually be known for something.

You have Ralsei who finds himself at a crossroads between fulfilling a predetermined prophecy to save the world, and forging his own identity separate from his willingness to serve any "higher" authority. You have King, a ruler who became a tyrant so that his people could be free.

You also have Alphys, struggling to fill the rather large boots of her predecessor, Gerson Boom, who had a career in smithing, wrote a series of hit fantasy novels, and was an excellent teacher according to his son Alvin. (I wanna talk more about this, but it's going in its own post because of reasons)

A character's legacy, the thing that they will be known for, the thing they struggle to actualise so that people will like and accept them, can be a powerful driving-force, giving them agency to fulfill their ambitions. But that same legacy can also be a millstone, forcing them onto a narrowly-defined path through life, burdening them with the crushing weight of others' expectations, and trapping them into a version of themselves they may not wish to be.

Legacy can be difficult to escape from, perhaps even impossible in some cases. It can feel like there's no other choice but to press onward, to be what others want or expect from you, to do what you are told, to try and live up to a golden predecessor who could do no wrong in the eyes of their admirers. It can feel like what you want, what you choose for yourself, doesn't actually matter, because in many ways that choice has already been made for you. And to rebel against that choice risks disappointing the people closest to you, risks losing your reputation, risks the comfort of a predictable path forward, and in extreme cases risks losing your own sense of identity.

I think this theme is going to continue to develop throughout Deltarune, and I very much look forward to seeing how it all plays out!

[andorology]

Sanguinity: Chapter 9 a rebelcaptain regency au

As spring approached its last month before finally warming up to the summer, the world all around Endor Village now seemed to be in full bloom. The vibrant beauty that its sceneries had grown into, to Jyn and Cassian, at least made the passing of time much more bearable. Three weeks had passed since their conversation in town, and in these three weeks alone, much had happened to their separate lives.

________

In the time that passed since their heated row, and Jyn and Cassian are now learning to live their lives without each other in it. But the terms of their fallout will soon be tested, when the unthinkable happens.

You can read a preview of Sanguinity: Chapter 9 below the cut and read the rest on ao3! Rating T.

It was recorded somewhere, within one of Jyn’s journals of general observations from her earlier youth, that “between Lah’mu Hall and the great house of Vallt Park, there was an estimated distance of two miles. If viewed from atop the mountain behind town, it would seem as though this length was insignificant, but to actual scale, the two houses stood so far apart from one another that one could easily assume that the one they were in was the only one there was—and that the other did not exist at all.”

Jyn had made this observation precisely one day when she endeavored to attempt getting to Lah’mu Hall from Vallt Park by foot alone. Little had she known then, that the isolation afforded by this distance, something which she had previously viewed as an inconvenience, would later prove to the present her to be a clemency in disguise; due to the fallout between her and Lah’mu Hall’s new master, Cassian, she had since then treated any remoteness from the place to be a kind of relief—the farther she was from it, all the better. 

But the present Jyn was still yet to find out another thing which the future version of her would already know: she was yet to discover the irony of it all—for how much apart these houses were, the lives of the people who lived in them were now more and more confined to each other’s fates. 

It was the kind of lesson her books could not teach. 

As spring approached its last month before finally warming up to the summer, the world all around Endor Village now seemed to be in full bloom. The vibrant beauty that its sceneries had grown into, to Jyn and Cassian, at least made the passing of time much more bearable. Three weeks had passed since their conversation in town, and in these three weeks alone, much had happened to their separate lives:

The Andors’ acclimation to the village went along, despite it being a rocky one right off its genesis, especially if not exclusively, on the part of Cassian who continued to carry by himself the dread of living so close to the Krennics. However, as reluctant as he might be in maintaining such a proximity with the family, there was a fixedness to his situation that he simply could not, at this point, ignore nor reverse; he had already bought the estate, and had since then finally settled himself and his sister into it. 

He seriously pondered on the possibility of selling the property and finding a better home elsewhere, but knew to himself that until he had a solid course of action to implement it, it was not a current prospect he could look forward to. So it seemed, for the moment, that the best thing he could do was ride the tide.

[khrysalisposting]

gonna try to rationalize a timeline rq

so p101’s battle of trafalgar was against the armada.

irl battle of trafalgar was in 1805.

valencians and monquistans in novus basically state the armada is a thing of the past, so we can assume that marleybone as a world is specifically within the 1810s time period.

HISTORICALLY, rococo fashion came into popularity in the 1730s and died in the 1770s (and probably even before the 1770s in Britain). it is also originally from france (so polaris).

rococo is very pastel and has all the gold accessories/frills/etc purely for the glitz and glam of it all. ESPECIALLY venetian rococo.

venetian -> venice -> italy -> valencia.

who is the ONE PERSON in novus who wears pastels w/ gold accessories and white frills and all that.

so not only is rottingham an imperialistic dick, he’s wearing polarian/valencian (his enemies) clothing, and he’s OUT OF FASHION. BY AT LEAST 30 YEARS. pick a fucking STRUGGLE

[unaarista]

Since my blog is literally plastered with images of the man himself it's no surprise when i admit that Blurg baldursgate is my favourite character by far lol. There are other really close contenders, but if i must pick one absolute favourite it would certainly be him. Something about a person from purely militaristic society straying off the predetermined path his gods and ancestors paved for him, and living up to an old age with the pacifist mindset is doing things to me, idk, idk, it's just to good to pass. AND his closest partner is a mind flayer! Talk about xenophilia lol. And he's still a hobgoblin, with all the hobgoblin boons, and they don't normally live alone and away from their society. Was he too stubborn to obey his commanders' order and banished for insubordination? Did he leave willingly, in a pursuit of knowledge rather than bloodshed? Was he just not a good soldier and set to be culled, but escaped? Maybe he grown tired of his kin's lust for battle and sought another way for himself? Maybe he done what he can't forgive himself for, and went into voluntary exile? Why is he so set on "not causing trouble", is he afraid?

Love him, obsessed with him, he's a little insignificant trader with a few spoken lines, but there's so much to be spun from what little is laid in the story. Here's a little sketch of him i did based on In The Shadow Of The Maple Tree story

BG3 Positivity - Tell me about your favourite!

Tell me something you love about your favourite Baldur's Gate 3 character! Tell me lots if you like! Bonus points for: - NPCs and lesser known characters - Villains - Characters many people hate

IMPORTANT RULES:

- No negative talk about any character - Be kind about others' likes!

I really want to see what people like most about their favourites, but I am going to be strict on that rule - if you don't like a character, and/or don't agree with someone's take, that's fine! But just keep that comment on the inside, let's be nice and share joy, support enthusiasm, and have fun!

[hey-hey-j]

sleepover at the bunker

(★my Ko-fi) | (★commission info)

[cannot-be-cyn]

me, engaging in other media be like:

[greenfiend]

"You're not thinking fourth dimensionally."

Excuse you, I’ve been doing nothing but thinking of the fourth dimension as a Byler. 🤨

I can’t stop thinking about how a wheel represented time freezing around Will. Likely representing a Wheeler.

[starringmycoffee]

i didn't know there was a word for this, but it's something that's really gotten on my fucking nerves lately that i haven't been able to pin down. excuse my hyperempathy and cola-induced rant incoming. lots of swearing ahead. i am angry but not at manic, rather this specific issue. anyway, buckle up.

i have a bachelor's degree. that's great. that's fine. a big issue arises when my peers who also have bachelor's degrees treat those who don't as if they're lesser humans. it really became prevalent in my workplace lately. i am a manager at a bookstore/cafè. a not-insignificant amount of our employees are immigrants and high schoolers who don't yet have their diplomas. (i believe we have a couple of dropouts as well but that's not my business and i'm not gonna ask them because there's no point. they do their jobs just fine and they're good people, and that's all i as their supervisor can ask for.)

unfortunately, they are often treated like they're not worth listening to. literally at all. they are sometimes blown off by other management staff even though their ideas are genuinely very often some of the best when it comes to how we should do things or new ways to accomplish our tasks. they have to run it through me and i have to communicate it to other managers as if i came up with it for their ideas to even be heard sometimes and the only difference is that i happen to have a very expensive piece of paper with my name on it. (i guess also i'm their boss, but other employees who do have their diplomas/certifications/etc. do not have to use me as the store carrier pigeon, so my position really has nothing to do with it.) it's been pissing me off for months and i haven't been able to put a name to it beyond "prejudice with a dash of some other academia flavor of privileged asshattery".

a degree or diploma is great if you can afford it and higher ed is a good path for you. however, it's also just a piece of paper that has absolutely no bearing on your worth as a human being overall and i've been sick of people acting like this towards my staff. they're not any less capable than i am of having a good idea or valuable insight. they're not lesser humans whose every word should be ignored.

the same goes for children and how we as a collective society treat them. kids are brilliant and creative little people. just because they're small and less educated does not make them any less worthy of your attention and it certainly does not make them any less deserving of kindness and respect. what are we teaching people by being cruel to those who haven't had the opportunity to learn yet?

anyway. all this to provide an anecdote with a reiteration: it's such a prevalent issue! thank you for spreading the word (literally) because now i can call it out for exactly what it is.

Educationism

Here's a word I learned recently that I want to share with tumblr. Educationism is the word for discrimination against less educated and uneducated people as well as the biases that higher educated people have against less educated and uneducated people.

Educationism is something I have experienced for a long time (first as a SPED kid and then as a highschool dropout with no diploma or GED) but never had the words to talk about and that really frustrated me a lot.

Educationism is something I wish more people would talk about. It's something that comes up all the time even in casual conversation, and even moreso in more heavy or discourse-y conversations.

Often I even see people trying to be allies especially to queer or trans or intersex folk and they end up engaging heavily in educationism - which is really draining for me as a queer, trans, intersex person who is not formally educated. (For example - "I bet TERFs didn't even pass highschool biology", a statement which both fails to acknowledge and hold accountable that TERFs make an active choice to be bigoted and frames not passing a class in highschool as the reason why TERFs exist, which gets tiring very fast as someone who very much did not get good grades or pass classes in highschool and yet is very much not a TERF.)

Being less educated or uneducated is constantly used as an insult and education is used as a measure of how much worth a person has and how good of a person they are, I am constantly put down for not being formally educated. Being formally educated, especially on a college level, also provides value to one's words and thoughts - Nobody wants to hear what a highschool dropout has to say, because they assume we simply aren't worth speaking to or hearing out.

When others learn that I am not formally educated, immediately they assume that I am lesser of a person than them, that I am lazy or simply don't try hard enough to become formally educated, that my life does not matter as much or is not as good as theirs, and that I am not to be taken seriously.

Additionally, I don't think higher-educated people really realize how little rights you have when you are not formally educated. It doesn't matter how much I actually know in practice, how much I read and study, how much unpaid labor or volunteer work or community work I perform, because I do not have a highschool diploma or equivalent the amount of things that I am allowed to do is severely limited.

Many areas of life, including large ones like getting a job or going to college, are largely not accessible to me because I do not have a highschool diploma or equivalent.

I also have to deal with quite a massive amount of social stigma and discrimination, and it feels isolating to not see anybody in my communities talk about it, especially in communities which are otherwise very welcoming and accepting and anti- various forms of bigotry.

So, here's me putting myself out there a bit in hopes that educationism as a term might be picked up and passed around more and maybe others might discuss it and learn something about it.