#his gentleness his thoughtful nature--quite the opposite

[sweetnothingtm]

every man gets his wish // simon riley

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ "i learned how to make love from the movies" ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing simon x fem!reader

content pure unadulterated smut, maybe a daddy kink?

summary the one where ghost is obsessed w a camgirl

note based off my drabble, thank you for the love ♡ lmk if you want a part twooo

There’s a special place in hell for people like Simon Riley.

He could’ve gone to heaven - but he won’t.

Simon has vices. He has anger issues, and he doesn’t like to share. He doesn’t take precautions, he’s cocky with his wallet and he most certainly doesn’t take orders from anyone.

He’s impulsive, abrasive, and most importantly - Simon Riley only thinks with his dick.

You’re the opposite of him. Careful, gentle and patient, you come across as bubbly and approachable. The sparkle in your eyes just never seemed to die, and an innocent smile is always playing at your lips. You seem to embody everything that Simon could never be.

Not that he would know - you’re just an eager camgirl with a big audience.

Every night, Simon Riley comes crawling to you like a stray dog. It wasn’t meant to be this way, so vile and naughty and delicious. He swore it would only happen once, and yet here he is, pining after the taste of you. He always finds himself with his cock in his hands, eyes rolling up to the ceiling and filthy curses slipping past his lips.

You’ve already started - much to his disappointment.

He’s usually so punctual. Never wasting your time. Always appreciative of the way your eyes sparkle with adoration when he joins the stream. Today was no different - he was just a little too eager and spent the last hour jerking off to the thought of you.

And he’s gonna do it again

The room is cast in a soft glow, your legs tucked beneath you and the soft hum of music playing in the background. Your soft skin is covered in red lingerie, pillowy tits covered by the lace that he bought.

It’s a damn shame - the way Simon can’t be there to take it off himself.

In contrast to the natural shine you give off, Simon is drowned out by the dark moonlight. His body casually leans back against the headboard, eyes trained on the illuminated screen that separates you from him. While he is adorned in shadows, you shine with the soft glow of your exposed skin.

Your lips, pulled into a little pout. Your delicate fingers, dipping between your plush thighs. The ebbs and flow of your body, curves and blemishes that he’s memorized like he owns you.

It’s quite pathetic, really - how infatuated he’s become with a camgirl. But he can’t help himself. He’s got all your videos saved in a folder that he opens at every opportunity.

He’s cum to you more times than he can count, always groaning as the hot ropes of white liquid splatter against his skin. He’d tip you relentlessly, always accompanied by a foreboding message that sent chills along your spine.

Missed you, princess. What a good girl. Finished so soon? What a beautiful little slut.

Your hands are wrapped around a little pink toy that you push between your thighs. It hums against your skin, causing Simon to angrily palm himself through his pants. The sickeningly sweet sound of your gasp has him reeling, cock already beginning to twitch and drip with precum.

His hand continues to palm at it, ignoring the little stain that starts to form on his pants as you continue to stimulate yourself. You gently part your thighs, hair framing your face as you give him - yes, him - a little preview of his deepest desires.

You’re already wet, and he curses himself for being late today. Simon is memorizing the little bow on your panties, the way you push the vibrator against the soft fabric and let your little plump lips part for a moan.

He’s got a toothy grin, rubbing at the tip of his cock and imagining that it’s your delicate hands struggling to wrap around him.

You’d blink up at him with full and eager eyes, lip pulled between your teeth. You’d gently unzip his pants, fingernails dragging against his skin and causing his dick to perk up. He’d rub the pad of his thumb against your cheek, a nasty smirk plastered across his face.

Simon imagines that your tongue would give gentle licks against his irritated tip, that you’d hollow out your cheeks and suck him off until his cum is coating your throat. He would continue to lazily fuck your mouth, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as you hummed against his cock.

The sound of your little gasps pulls him from the daydream, eyes sharply trained on the screen as you pull your panties to the side and rub the vibrator against your clit. Your chest is pressed outwards, nipples hard against the red lace that separates him from you.

Before he can stop himself, with his cock twitching underneath his touch and thumb rubbing softly over his tip, he absently clicks on the keyboard. It’s a good thing he’s got his card number memorized.

$250 from Ghost_Stalker

-smile pretty for me, princess.

You pause your movement, vibrator stuck between your folds as you writhe and twitch against it. You squint your eyes, rolling over the message once. Twice. Three times before a smile is tugging at your lips. A hand comes up to squeeze your tit, fingernails dragging against the lace as you lean into the camera and smile sweetly.

“hi ghost - i missed you.”

His belt hits the floor before you finish your sentence.

Your voice is thick like honey, laced with desire that Simon is convinced was meant just for him. The vibrator begins to move again, pressing into your wet core with a little squelch as you mewl out in pleasure.

He follows your pace, eyes fixated on the pink toy that dips in and out of your little pussy. It stretches you, pushing against your folds and humming against you.

Simon is messily jerking himself off as you roll your hips against the vibrator, letting soft pleas fall from your lips. He spits on the tip of his cock, palm rubbing it against his shaft as he grunts happily. The slick and lazy strokes mirror the way you rub the vibrator greedily against your clit, thighs parting like the gates of heaven.

He wants in.

When you pull the toy away from you, the sound of your dripping cunt follows along with it. You wiggle closer to the camera, eyes blown out with pleasure as you press the pink toy into your mouth and lick. Tongue sloppy, eyes rolling in ecstasy and hips bucking against the pillow underneath you.

$300 from Ghost_Stalker

-i missed you more princess. missed your pretty little pussy.

“prove it,” you challenge.

His head slams against the back of the chair, cock covered in his spit as the sounds of your soft laughter that plays from his screen. He bucks his hips up with his movements, imagining that your body is curled around him and bouncing on his lap.

Your nails would drag against his skin, leaving harsh red lines in their wake as he’d let his hand fly to your ass with a sickening smack.

You’d jump, grinding your mound into him with desperation as your perky tits rub against his chest. Simon imagines himself nipping, licking and biting at them, his dick throbbing at the way you’d drool out his name.

In his dreams, you’re an obedient little slut. Ever a tease, you’d bounce on his dick one minute and beg for a kiss the next. He’d wrap his hand around your throat, choking you until you’re seeing stars and begging him for more.

You’re chatting away with sleazy men who can’t afford you, and it makes Simon enraged. It’s him who matters. It’s him who should have your attention. It’s him who you should open your legs for. His stroking gets aggressive, jaw set and hardened as you blow kisses and make false promises. Simon is rubbing himself raw, his free hand going to cup his balls and gently squeeze.

And then someone asks you where you got your cute little outfit. And like the vixen you are, you smile sweetly into the camera and push your tits together.

“Oh? these? they were a gift from someone special.”

And it’s true. He’s your favorite. He’s the one who you’re dreaming of - and it’s embarrassing to pine after a man you’ve never met. But it’s washed away by the burning desire to please him. Only him.

He’s trying so hard to hang on. To regain some sense of normalcy as his dick continues to twitch and warmth spreads throughout his body like an inferno. His eyes are trained on your curves, the way you’ve got a smile lighting your face up as your hips grind into the soft pillow below you. He’s slapping the tip of his dick against his abdomen, letting the beads of precum splat against his skin and forever stain him a sinner.

Here he goes again, thinking with his dick.

$500 from Ghost_Stalker

-put on a good show for daddy.

And you do. The red lace has been slipped off of you, tossed to the side as you reach over and off the screen to grab something. A perfect angle of your tits in full view. Simon follows every movement. He licks his lips in anticipation, stomach heavy with desire.

You sheepishly pull the dildo out, smacking it against your outstretched tongue and dipping a hand between your legs. Dripping, wet beyond comprehension and Simon is lucky enough to watch as you curl your fingers inside your pussy and mewl.

His hips are rutting up, hand fisting his cock in desperation as you suck on the dildo while fingerfucking yourself. His chest is tight, sweat glistening against his skin while he watches intensely. So fucking wet.

You hope he’s watching. You’re praying that he’s jerking off to the sight of you. That you’re both staring up at the ceiling, eyes searching for the constellations that brought you together when the stars aligned.

Is it wrong? To want something that you’ve never known?

Simon can tell you’re becoming undone. You always get riled up with his words, eyes full of excitement as he showers you with attention every stream. In his fantasy, Simon thinks you wished that your delicate fingers were his. That you wanted him to slowly rub at your bud of nerves and press his fingers into your cunt. And then he’d have you sit on his cock and make him watch as he licked his fingers clean.

He can’t help himself when you’re like this, messy and needy on screen with your wet pussy smearing against the pillow that he wishes was his face. You’re whining and panting, fingers dipping in and out of your core as Simon picks up the pace and lets the heat travel up his skin and light him ablaze. Your voice is music to his ears.

“i’m so close- fuck. please, i- gonna cum.”

When you climax, your chest is heaving and a layer of sweat has covered your soft skin. Your hands are dancing across your soft tits, twisting at your hardened nipples that all but scream bite me. He’s smearing more spit all over himself, breath coming out in short pants and eyes dark and heavy.

The dildo rests against your folds, almost as if it’s taunting him. And so what if he blows all him money in one night? It’s going to a good cause - at least, that’s what he’s convinced himself.

$2500 from Ghost_Stalker

-again.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth at the message, ignoring the chat as it blows up at the extra show. You’re already eager, smacking the tip of the dildo against your folds and rolling your hips upwards.

“a little desperate tonight? i don’t mind - anything for daddy”

It takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. Simon feels like he’s died and been reborn. Like a siren has sung him to a peaceful sleep. Like the explanations for his bank statements are worth it. And when you press the tip of the toy into your dripping wet hole, it feels like Simon can practically smell your sickeningly sweet pussy.

He thinks it smells like candy.

You wince at every inch of silicone that slides into you. Your thighs are trembling, an arm propping yourself up as you whine and mewl like his favorite little kitten. The camera is shaking from your movements, head hung back in ecstasy as you bottom out the dildo and sigh happily.

Such a dirty slut, Simon muses. So nasty. At this point, his strokes are quick and methodical. Tugging at his tip that’s still producing precum, almost as if it’s desperate for release. His balls ache, his eyebrows are knitted in concentration and his abs are tight with anticipation.

“m’ so wet,” you gasp, the sounds of your pussy flitting against the dildo playing on repeat in Simon’s mind. Your thighs are spread fully, and your pillowy tits are jiggling with the movement of you fucking yourself. “are you watching?”

There’s a frenzy in the chat, a hundred eager men thinking that your words are meant for them. You raise yourself to your knees, angling to toy to press against your folds as you bite your lip. “i bet you are. guess what?” You breathe, eyes twinkling with mischief. “i wish you were here.”

Oh, how wrong they were.

He's close. The edge that he’s built is about to fall beneath him, collapse into a million pieces while you get drunk off the way the dildo slips in and out of you. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your chest is heaving, lungs struggling to take in air as you climb that high once more.

You whine and beg to yourself. Simon curses and lets his hips snap up against his stroking. His cock is unbearably hard, skin tingling with the sensation of pure lust that consumes him. You bounce and grind on the dildo with need, hair falling back against your bare shoulders as Simon drinks in every ounce of you.

Legs shaking, tits bouncing and hands coming up to play with your nipples, you look like a goddess. He’s never been so entranced, so enthralled and so obsessed. The way your nails dig into your skin, squeals of pleasure ripping through your stomach as you cum around the toy. You roll your hips greedily, savoring the orgasm and rubbing quick circles against your clit.

It’s all that it takes to have him squeezing the tip of his cock and shooting hot cum all over his stomach. It’s shameful, pathetic and downright heavenly. He promises that he’ll never cum to anyone but you.

The overstimulation has you reeling, chest heaving and eyes watering in excitement as a wave of pure bliss is crashing against you. The chat is singing praises to you, falling on deaf ears as you lazily still your hips and lean forward - dildo still firmly shoved in your pussy.

“are you satisfied?” You ask innocently. No, never. You don’t say his screen name, but it doesn’t matter, he knows it’s him you’re talking to. He knows by the way you slide off the toy, hair sticking to your skin as you slip on the red lace as a sign that the shows coming to an end. He knows by the way you dip your fingers between your wet folds, gathering the sticky cum around your digits - before you lick it off them like such a good girl.

He has to have you.

$5000 from Ghost_Stalker

-i’ll double it if you do it again

[kingconia]

VIL SCHOENHEIT, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND MALLEUS DRACONIA WITH READER, WHO IS ALWAYS IGNORED BY THEIR FATHER...

(...Who happens to be the headmaster himself.)

Bonus points: reader studies in the Diasomnia.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When he heard for the first time that the new student of the Diasomnia, is the children of the Dire Crowley, he had a very low expectations, to be honest. Not like he hated on you beforehand or something, more like he was too aware of headmaster's character...

— So, he was pleasantly surprised to see that you are completely the opposite of your father. Responsible, hardworking—if not for you being a crow yourself, and having the same surname, he would never guess that you were raised by this man;

— However... It was clear as day that the reason why you had nothing common with him, was because he hardly payed attention to you. You tried so hard by studying diligently and achieving the first places in different school contests, and yet... He didn't really care?

— Malleus had never met his father, but Lilia made sure he would never feel neglected in the way you were. And the mistreatment towards you hurt him even more, than it hurt you.

•

”Shit,” you groaned, baring your teeth in unhidden displeasure. ”Headmaster will not approve seeing that that these students broke the window.”

Malleus gazed at you curiously—both of you were sitting on the roof, talking about everything and nothing—and the question left his lips by itself.

”We are all alone. Why are you still calling him a headmaster?”

As you brought knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, you shrugged. With voice impassive and eyed cold, you explained:

”I don't have a particular way to call him. He is either headmaster or Crowley. So...”

Malleus's heart squeezed instantly of the thought of that.

It sounded so unbelievable.

He grew up witnessing how gentle Lilia was to Silver, and how the latter called him a father. Their bond, a sincere and tight one, was always an example for Malleus of how families should like. And here you were, ignored by a man, who was the reason you were in this world. How unfair.

”Y/n?”

Malleus thought, if you asked him to fulfill your wish—to make your father love you—he would. Without a doubt.

”Yes?”

But for some reasons, you never do.

”I hope, you understand, a precious raven of mine, that Diasomnia is your family, too.”

So, he can only offer you an alternative. An alternative, where you need to accept that despite not having your father's love, you had all of them—him, Lilia, Silver and Sebek.

”...Thank you for that. I... I try to keep that in mind.”

Yet, you still need some time to comprehend that.

He could wait. They all will.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— He was naturally suspicious of you. It is not a secret that Vil hates privileged kids—such as Leona, for example—and for him, it was logical that you were the one, too;

— However, he started to doubt about that after observing you more closely;

— You never skipped lectures, always did your homework and participated actively in the classes. And not only that! Your achievements weren't passing through him—he was quite aware of all your wins in competitions, and a good reputation;

— So, to the moment, when you came to ask for his help for your talent show, Vil already admitted to himself, that despite having a privilege, you were a high achiever, who knew how to work. But, oh, little did he knew, that you were an opposite to the privileged person...

•

“Y/n-san,” Vil frowned deliberately, glaring at you with a genuine concern in his eyes, ”I think, you should take a little rest. Please.”

With your shoulders shaking, hands being red, and legs hardly keeping you up, you looked awful.

Vil knew how exhaustion looked—he wore it on himself all the time, after all—and he could say for sure, you were too close to the meltdown. If not to the overbolt...

”I can't. I should try harder,” you murmured, voice raspy. ”Only this way I can...”

The desperation in your eyes were so familiar that Vil almost flinched from it. Carefully, afraid of doing the wrong choice, he put hands on your shoulders, squeezing them softly.

”Y/n-san, you are one of the best students of our school. Even more, you are standing on the same place in the world, along with Leona and Malleus,” he reminded, lips slightly brushing your hair as he spoke. ”What else are you trying to achieve?”

”His attention, of course!" A sob that escaped your lips were too gut-wrenching to hear. ”What else I can need, if not a father?”

Vil didn't even try to conceal his own genuine sadness as he heard you saying that. Almost instinctively, he hugged you tightly, allowing to hide in the crook of his neck.

It was the moment, when he regretted that his assumptions about you being spoiled, were wrong. It would be much healthier for you, if he was right.

”Oh, darling,” he whispered gently. ”Cry all you like. You are allowed to.”

And so, you did.

When on the next morning you pretended that nothing happened, Vil wasn't mad at you for that. If anything, he was merely happy that he was able to help you for a while.

...If only you understood how worthy you are.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— The unbothered king had only two complaints to you, and both of them sounded ridiculous. Because, he was unhappy with you being a part of Diasomnia, and he couldn't settle with a fact that you were a crow. The end of the story;

— Leona truly couldn't care less about you or your father. What he cared was the fact that you were a powerful rival in the Spelldrive Tournament, and he was slightly bitter to losing both to you and your housewarden;

— Overall, he respected you. And that was why when you offered him to play chess together, he didn't say no. Since that, you became close, always playing together, in the same time and place;

— As Leona became closer to you, he obviously realised that your family relationships were fucked up—takes one neglected kid to recognise the other—but, decided not to pry out. If you want to talk about it, you will. Otherwise, he will not do anything.

•

”Huh?”

Leona blinked, not caring to mask his astonishment as he saw you sitting in the botanical garden, with chess board being set up, ready for another game.

”Hi, Leona,” you raised your head at him slowly. ”You are late.”

He weren't late, he just didn't know that you will be here.

The school was on the winder holidays, and the prevailing amount of students already left to their houses. As far as Leona had heard, the headmaster was the first one to leave, since he had a special vacation somewhere in the Shifts. Of course, Leona expected you to go there with him.

”...What are you doing here?” He asked bluntly. ”Shouldn't be you on holidays, or something?”

”My house is too empty,” you shrug, the slight frown indicating your irritation by this question. ”I decided, it would be better to stay.”

”...And the vacation?”

”Oh, Crowley never takes me with himself,” you huffed easily.

Leona had no idea that your relationship was that bad. Even Falena always invited him everywhere, just in case if Leona suddenly decides to agree.

”Well?” You rushed him. ”Are you going to play with me?”

There was nothing Leona could say to console you, words never being his strongest quality. But as he slowly made his way to the armchair, he couldn't help but being hit by the wave of the sheer madness towards your father.

How could anyone neglect such an ambitious and perfect kid as you?

”If I win, you are celebrating New Year with me,” Leona finally spoke up, moving the white piece of chess.

Well, it didn't matter. Not like Dire Crowley deserved you anyway.

”And if I do?”

”Then, I am celebrating New Year with you.”

You smiled at him, before concentrating on the game

”How cruel. I am in.”

He couldn't help but feel proud that the smile on your face was his doing.

Perhaps, you had not the best father, but... At least, Leona will make sure, that you will have a perfect holidays for once.

And that was fine, too.

[cupid-styles]

daisy 3 - the epilogue (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)

the final part!! sorry it took forever for me to finish this series. I really hope you guys enjoyed it and like this little part that wraps everything up :)

part one | part two

word count: 2.9k

content warnings: inappropriate relationship, minor age gap (4 years), not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N and Harry shift into a relationship — or what feels like one — faster than either could have ever anticipated. 

In hindsight, Y/N supposes it makes sense. They’d been suppressing romantic and intimate feelings for each other and now that it’d all come to a peak (no pun intended), tangled between Y/N’s cotton sheets, it felt oddly… natural.

The entire thing made her warm with happiness, a busy kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through her tummy every time she even thought of waking up next to Harry. They hadn’t had another sleepover since that evening, and admittedly, she’d been a bit scared that she would wake up to rushed apologies and explanations of “I need to get out of here, this was a mistake”, but it had been quite the opposite. 

The following morning, when her sleepy eyes cracked open, she felt a warm weight pressed up against her back. It took her a moment to come to, but when she did, she remembered the strenuous activities from the night prior, and blushed and rolled over to find the object of her affection waking up from his own deep sleep. 

“Morning,” he’d croaked before smiling through puffy eyes. “Can I make you breakfast?”

That had been two weeks ago, and it seemed like the cotton candy cloud they were floating on had yet to touch the ground.

It went without saying that they were still extremely careful on campus — however, now that the temperatures were shifting into a more comfortable number, jackets were being shed and bright tulip bulbs and crocuses were beginning to pop up from the moist soil. They were telltale signs that spring was steadily bolting their way, which meant that the end of the semester was, too. Between the hopeful weather and the pastel-hued beginnings of a relationship between the two, it was enough to pull Y/N from the inklings of her seasonal depression and Harry from his own existential dread. 

In short: It was good. Things were finally good, even if they hadn’t talked things through or officially decided on what they were doing yet. Y/N thinks she was okay with that, as long as it meant she was on the receiving end of Harry’s gentle kisses or his sweet goodnight texts. 

Yeah. She could most definitely live with that.

. . .

“I found a kitten last night.”

The words make Y/N blink her eyes open. Their lips hadn’t even been fully disconnected by the time his words were ghosting over the seam of her mouth, an apparent eagerness to verbalize this new development from the past 24 hours. 

“Oh?” Y/N asks with a quirked brow, fingertips focused on the feeling of his soft knit cardigan. 

“When I was taking the garbage out,” he quickly explains. “She was hiding behind the trash cans.”

“She?”

Harry shifts from foot to foot and Y/N immediately identifies his body language as nervousness — he’s nervous to tell her about this cat he found near his building complex, and the thought, for some reason, makes her body bubble with giggles. 

“I looked to see if she had a collar or tag or anything and she doesn’t. I took her in and washed her off. She was starving, but I was thinking of taking her to the vet when I leave campus today.”

Y/N hums, “Well if she was starving and dirty, it’s a good thing she found you.”

A pinkish flush flowers over Harry’s cheeks and he shrugs his shoulders. “The vet in town is always swamped with college kids impulsively adopting animals. I was thinking of taking her to the one a bit further away.”

“Oh, that’s smart,” Y/N nods, tugging the strap of her tote bag a little closer to her body. Harry normally isn’t so slow in his goodbyes to her, and she really needs to get to the library to work on an essay outline. 

“Will you come with me?”

Her eyebrows nearly fly up to the ceiling. They’ve never done anything in public together — not since they saw each other at Target a few months back, and that doesn’t even count because they weren’t seeing each other back then. It was something that made Y/N toss and turn at night. She knew that in the eyes of the university, their relationship was forbidden — neither of them were that dim to understand that — but in any other context, there was no reason why a couple of their age couldn’t be together. It sometimes made her wish that they did meet under different circumstances, like at a bar or even swiping right on a dating app. 

“I was thinking maybe you could stay over afterwards, because the only appointment they had available for this evening was at 7 pm and I’m not sure how late we would get back,” Harry tacks on, and the addition only makes her stomach continue to swarm with nervous butterflies. “You can say no. I just thought it would be nice. A stay-at-home date, maybe.”

She’s nodding like a robot before her brain even allows her the opportunity to think it over. And yeah, call her childish, maybe, but the thought of him calling it a date — she supposes this is the closest they can get to one in the near future — makes her heart skip a beat.

“That does sound nice,” she agrees with a smile. “Do you want to pick me up at 6? I’ll… I can pack a bag and we’ll go from the vet to yours later on?”

He nods, mirroring her own enthusiastic grin. “Okay.”

. . .

After a marathon at the library (she was in the beginning stages of doing research on a comparative essay on Emily Brontë’s work), Y/N trekked back to her apartment, stuffed some food down her throat, showered, and packed a bag for Harry’s. 

She was a little nervous — okay, maybe fairly nervous, considering the last time they did anything close to this, it had all been very spur of the moment. Things weren’t awkward because of it (it was the opposite, actually), but the rest of their relationship had been spent in Harry’s tiny office. They played footsies while they graded, ordered takeout to the English building while they spoke about their days, and snuck loved-up smiles when they passed each other on campus, but this felt more… finite, maybe. Real. Like they could exist outside the confines of their university.

Harry texts her when he’s on his way and then when he’s downstairs at 6 o’clock on the dot (here xx, which makes Y/N’s heart flutter). She has her usual purse on one shoulder and a tote bag on the other, where she’s packed pajamas for the night, an outfit for tomorrow, and all of her toiletries. She swallows as she locks the front door and turns to see the familiar navy sedan parked right outside, biting her lip when she sees the curly haired brunette in the driver’s seat. 

“Hey,” he greets the second she gets in the car. She flashes him a smile, though his own facial expression exudes an air of nervousness, “Do you know much about cats?” 

“Um, my sister brought a stray in when we were kids. We only kept her for a few days, but I guess I know a little.”

Harry nods, “I’m scared she’s anxious back there. I tried to make the carrier as comfortable as possible for her, but she’s probably nervous, right? She’s in a weird guy’s car and she doesn’t know where she’s going.”

Y/N breathes out a laugh as she twists her body to look in the backseat. Low and behold, there’s a brand new carrier with a small kitten inside. She coos at its salt and pepper fur as she unlocks the gate, gently reaching in to grab the cat. She can’t be larger than a few pounds, and Harry’s right about her being nervous — she’s trembling, whether it be from the confusion of the situation or an issue the vet will likely tell them about. 

“Here, I’ll hold her for the ride,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of her head, “She just needs some love, hm?” 

“She kept slipping on the hardwood floors in my apartment last night. I felt so bad.” Harry replies as he puts the car in drive, a slight pout on his lips. Y/N laughs lightly at the thought, stroking her forefinger over the kitten’s back. 

“Poor baby,” she glances up at Harry, blinking when she realizes he’d been glimpsing down between them and the road, “Did you think of any names for her?”

He coughs and flicks his right signal on, “Um, yeah. I thought of a few. Haven’t really decided on anything yet, though. I guess it depends on whether or not the vet thinks it’s a good idea to keep her.”

“Sure,” Y/N hums, though she can already tell from her brief knowledge of pets that the likelihood of this little kitten having a home is slim. She’s tiny and underweight and doesn’t have a collar, which means she probably isn’t chipped, either. “I think you’d do well as a cat dad. Maybe you can adopt if this little one doesn’t work out.”

“You think so?”

A small smile cracks at the edges of Y/N lips. It’s apparent that Harry’s scared and needs some sort of reassurance from someone, and she’s happy to be the provider. “Of course I do. I think you have a lot of love to give, Harry.”

She watches as his throat bobs before his own lips form a gentle smile. 

“Yeah. I think I do, too.” 

He reaches over and carefully intertwines their fingers together. When she gives his hand a small squeeze, she thinks she sees his body visibly relax. 

. . .

As Y/N anticipated, the kitten Harry found doesn’t belong to anyone. 

The vet does a thorough check-up and the results are relatively positive; she’s just on the malnourished side and will need a lot of food, love, and care to get her to a place where she’s considered to be healthy. She advises Harry to bring the cat back in a month to do another weigh-in just to make sure her diet is nutritionally-dense enough, and he has no problem agreeing. 

Y/N scoops the kitten up and gently scratches and pets at the back of her head as Harry talks to the receptionist, supplying information about his name and phone number for the follow-up appointment. It’s only when he’s asked for the kitten’s name that he somewhat freezes. Y/N peers up, assuming he’s just nervous because he hasn’t settled on anything yet. It’s understandable, she supposes — if her parents had let her and her sister keep that kitten from their childhood, they probably would have named it “Princess Muffins” or “Little Lady Kisses”, which Y/N just thinks is embarrassing for the cat.

“Ophelia,” he murmurs lowly before coughing into his hand. The receptionist doesn’t question it as she quickly types it in, but it makes Y/N’s eyebrows raise. She continues scratching at Harry’s newly named cat, using her blunt fingernails to slowly rub the patches of fur behind her ears. She’s not sure if she’s being too fussy and self-centered, but if she remembers correctly, the first time she and Harry met, they talked about how Ophelia from Hamlet was a big inspiration for Y/N’s capstone project. She shrugs it off, especially when they’re done at the vet and they step into the low light of the evening. Silently, they walk side-by-side and back to Harry’s car. 

Daylight savings, despite being a stupid concept, arrived just a few weeks prior, which means they’re now privy to a few more hours of daylight before night stretches over the sky. It’s nice — spring hasn’t completely sprung up yet, but there are little reminders here and there that it’s coming. It isn’t freezing tonight but there’s a slight chill in the air, so both she and Harry are bundled up beneath cozy crewneck sweatshirts. He pulls the sleeves of his over his knuckles and the small action makes Y/N’s heart squeeze.

“Are you fine to hold her on the drive back?” Harry asks once they’re back in his car. She nods happily, content with having a small, cuddly kitten curl up on her lap for the next 30 minutes. The evening sunlight bathes the interior of the vehicle as Harry pulls out of his parking spot, flicking on his left blinker to take them back to his place. 

“D’you wanna get Thai for dinner?” Y/N asks, suppressing a yawn as she turns her head to look at the male beside her. Again, she watches as his muscles melt a bit, less rigid than they were just a moment or two before, and a smile edges at his lips as he nods his head. 

“That sounds great. Could go for some pad thai.”

“Mm, me too,” she agrees, taking her phone out to pull up the ordering app, “Can we split some dumplings, too?”

“I’d love that.”

She smiles to herself and they chat aimlessly and quietly about their respective orders, each of them deciding on noodle dishes (Harry opts for a veggie-only option while Y/N picks shrimp) and an order of mushroom dumplings. She asks if he’s vegetarian or trying to be — she presumes it’d be a rather important thing to know about the person she’s… dating? Casually seeing? What were they doing? — but he shrugs noncommittally, as he does for many questions she asks. It’s almost as if he’s not used to people asking him about his likes and preferences, and she thinks that’s dumb. She wants to know everything there is to know about him. 

When she prods him about his vegetable forward habits, he finally explains that no, he’s not a vegetarian, but he likes to eat meat-free when he can. This prompts her to ask him about his other tastes: His favorite ice cream flavor (Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food, which she approves of), his favorite flowers (pink tulips because his mom used to grow them), and his go-to drink when he goes out (“I never go out, I’m an old man, but I am partial to a tequila soda”). 

Her time playing 20 Questions is finally up after he picks up their food and they arrive back at his place. By now, the sun has fully retreated and Ophelia is sound asleep in Y/N’s lap. When he puts the car in park, he stops her before they go inside. 

“Why are you asking me all these things?” he asks with a wrinkle between his eyebrows. She resists the urge to reach out and smooth it with her thumb.

“I just wanna know. I’m curious.” she replies, shrugging.

“You wanna know about the first album I ever bought and how old I was when I had my first kiss?”

“Of course I do,” she pauses, confused. “Why? Do you not want me to know those things?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I just… I don’t know. I’m surprised.”

“I don’t know how much more forward I can be with my feelings,” she says softly, nibbling on her bottom lip, “I know this is technically against the rules or whatever, but… I like you. You know that, right? That what I feel for you goes beyond sex and some silly fantasy.”

She watches as he swallows tightly. 

“I like you too,” he murmurs, reaching out to take her free hand into his. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities get the best of me but it’s just… odd, I guess, to imagine that you really, truly like me. I sound like a middle schooler, god—”

“Don’t do that.” she quickly shakes her head. If it weren’t for Ophelia still perched atop her thighs, she’d reach forward and take his face between her hands. “Don’t belittle yourself. I like you, Harry. So much that I’m willing to risk my status as a student. You get that, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he nods swiftly, “And you understand what I’m risking, right?”

It’s not meant to be a one-up — it’s genuine and it’s real, and she nods her head and swallows the small lump of tears that’s developed in her throat. It’s the reality of their relationship and it’s necessary to address, especially if either one of them wants to go any further. 

With Harry, he has more to lose. He’d be fired, of course, but his degrees could be taken into question, too. His license as a professor. Everything he’s worked for, all potentially wasted on Y/N.

It’s a heavy weight for her to wear.

But, as if he can read her mind (or maybe he can just read her facial expression), he gives her hand a squeeze. 

“And you’re more than worth it, Y/N.” he says with soft eyes. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she blurts out without thinking. Her eyes immediately widen while Harry’s crease with happiness, and she’d contemplate taking back if not for the massive grin that stretches across his face. 

“Truly, I thought you’d never ask,” he replies cheekily, and Y/N responds with a gentle swat to the chest. He laughs. “I did name my cat after you, after all.”

. . .

That night, when Harry has Ophelia tucked into one side and Y/N into the other, and she’s half-asleep as they watch another episode of whatever docuseries she convinced him to turn on, after they’ve eaten themselves into a Thai food coma and talked about the latest books they’ve read with promises to exchange them, he realizes he’s never been so happy in his life. 

Y/N can comfortably say the same. 

[r4izx]

Worth more than what you take me for.

ayato x gn!reader

summary: in which he had to choose between two people including you, in a life and death situation.

disclaimers: swearing (there's like one lol), kidnapping, ooc traveler.

4,032 words and 21,895 characters.

a/n: dayum. this took a while and i did not expect to write this much.

you've known ayato since childhood. your parents has been serving their clan for generations, being one of their most trusted allies. and you're no exception.

growing up with people with high authorities was such a privilege. you remember when you first met lord ayato and lady ayaka. they both were very the same yet so different. so elegant, disciplined and was well mature for their age. you felt some kind of barrier between you and the siblings but they turned out just as kind as they look. they were easy to converse with. naturally, after some time of serving them, you would have gotten closer. and in fact, you did. although you thought, you and ayato's relationship was... rather special.

for some reason, ayato treats you very differently compared to others. not in a bad way. he often calls you to his workplace, make you sit there and drink tea with him. he takes you out to go eat dinner at uyuu restaurant when you both have finished work. he requested you to be his personal assistant while ayaka had thoma. and because of this, you get to spend more time with him than anyone else. at the beginning, you always thought ayato would be a cold and strict person. but it turns out to be quite the opposite. okay- maybe he is more quiet and colder than others, but that's towards other people. especially to those he only has business with.

ayato is surprisingly different to what you originally thought. he would try to match your humor, often speaking informally like the way you would around your closest friends just to match with you. lately he's been spending his free time with you too. he noticed you liked tea a lot, much like him. so both of you had made it a habit to have tea at the estate's balcony while the sun is going down. watching the sunset together. it felt really romantic for you- but you quickly shook your head and remembered that to him- you're just his work partner. but is that really the case for him? because he was much more observant than you thought. especially about you. he notices any slight change in the mood with you. so there was a particular day when you were gloomy because of being so tired. but he noticed this immediately.

"Shall we take a break?"

-- and you don't know why but your heart skipped a beat when he said that. you thought it was funny-- how he would do all of this for you. and at times like these, you start to feel like a special person to him. just because he always relies on you compared to others. you thought you were special to him. until she came.

who is she? she looks so... bold and pretty. just one look at her and you can already tell she has a strong personality but has a gentle aura. her blonde hair swaying so glamorously in the wind. her otherworldly clothes making her stand out among people. the way she moves makes it embarrassing to stand beside her. she seems so... perfect in everyone's eyes. unfortunately, that includes ayato's. you don't remember having a guest in ayato's schedule when you were fixing it, so why's she here?

you found out the answer really quickly. everyone at the estate has been talking about her and... ayato lately. you don't know why though, which is weird- because as his assistant you should be the first to know about things regarding him. it's even weirder that ayato had not summoned you after work has ended. 'is this where our afternoon tea sessions end?' you thought to yourself. so you found it upon yourself to just be straightforward and ask others what's the gossip all about. luckily, there was another servant nearby. she quickly leaned closer to you and whispered.

"h-haven't you heard?... it seems that lord ayato had taken a liking to lady ayaka's guest."

you were surprised. really. it wasn't even his guest yet he bothered to entertain her. just who is she?

"who-... who is her lady's guest?" you nervously questioned.

"I heard it was... the traveler? was it? lord ayato visited her personally! they're just so perfect with eachother!- i can't help it." the servant squeals in excitement, contrary to your look in horror. you try not to make it obvious though. but you shouldn't even be feeling this way. why does it hurt? there's a sharp feeling on your chest that you just can't get out of. it just hurts to know the reason why he stopped your afternoon tea sessions, dinner hangouts, or just even talking with eachother is because of another girl! you were in no place to get frustrated since you were just a servant. nothing more, nothing less. to him.

you only see him through work now. the urge to invite him to a tea break and have a conversation with him while watching the sunset is getting stronger everyday. and who are you to resist?

"lord ayato... wou-" before you could even finish your sentence, he stopped you. your heart was beating so fast. 'oh no. did I do something wrong?' thoughts like these were circling through your mind.

"i told you to just call me 'ayato' y/n"

--and he chuckles a bit at the end. and so do you. you felt so... relieved. your worries instantly washed away. you felt at ease knowing that you are special to him. i mean- he doesn't do this with others does he?

"ah- my bad... but as I was saying, would you like to have some afternoon tea break with me? I mean, we used to do that everyday but it has been a while since we last did soo..."

and at this point you were so sure he wouldn't decline. he's been less busy this week, what could he possibly do that's far too important to even refu-

"my apologies, y/n. i've already scheduled a tea break with someone else this afternoon. maybe next time if i have the time. i promise i'll make it up to you. however, you could accompany us if you would like." and your mind. empty. the world seems like it stopped for you. not only was your only time to hang out with him gone but you were also replaced. all this time... he was with someone else. you had a gut feeling of who that someone else might be. but you couldn't hold a grudge, you have no right to.

"i-... i look forward to it." nope. you absolutely don't, look forward to it. that day will eventually come though. you just didn't expect it to come, three days later. how quick. you were filled with mixed of different emotions. you hate to admit it- but... you are jealous of who this person might be. but at the same time you're glad to just see ayato again! sadly, for work. when he summoned you, you thought-- 'oh is this finally it? will we finally hang out together again?' until you realize it's just that you will just accompany him to go to a somewhat date with someone else. compared to you and ayato just drinking tea at the estate's balcony, he had prepared so much as to have tea and snacks at the shore. alas, you could finally meet this person. once again. as you realize it was her. the traveler.

"traveler, did you wait long? i'm sorry, you could've ju..."

and their conversation went deaf on your ears. the ayato kamisato. speaking informally, and giving out tea invitations to the traveler. when it used to be you... why are you feeling like this? isn't it obvious. the traveler is way prettier, stronger and better than you. comparing yourself to the traveler is already such an embarrassing thing to do. no one could compare to her. she's out there defeating monsters and fighting archons. while you're here holding a grudge on a person who doesn't even know you just because you're jealous you were easily replaced. but who were you to be replaced when you weren't even his to begin with. this is why you feel guilty. because you think that you have no right to feel this way. it's just now that you realize how much of an overthinker you are. however your thoughts were cut short when you hear ayato calling out your name.

"y/n, i'll go to to the comfort room for a bit. please entertain the traveler while i'm away."

he says.

"understood." and so you take a seat at ayato's chair before. and despite not wanting to have a talk with the traveler, it is still your duty and you would not abandon it for just some mere feelings.

"greetings, i'm y/n. it's a pleasure to meet you traveler." you bow slightly and give the smile you usually show to guests. a smile you practiced countless of times infront of a mirror. "you might have not heard about me though. so allow me t-"

"oh i know. you're ayato's personal assistant. he mentioned it to me before." the traveler states. and you were genuinely shocked but also... curious.

"is that so?... then, has he said any other things about me before?" you nervously asked. though the nervously part may not be obvious to others. the traveler sees right through this. and she giggles. but nods. "would you mind serving me some tea? the tea ayato has been serving me is delicious however i've tasted it countless of times from our past tea parties. so I would like to have a different flavor this time."

the word 'countless' implies that they have been doing this for a while now and you already know that. but it still stirs a feeling of jealousy inside you.

"of course. luckily i brought a different tea flavor for myself as well. let me go get the ingredients from my bag." you return after brewing the tea and pouring it into the cups. how thoughtful that the traveler had already prepared the cups for you.

"this tastes a lot like lavender... melon." the traveler says.

"hm. because it is. you have a great sense of taste." you reply. from this point and so on, you don't really know what to talk about. the atmosphere is really awkward. but you still try to strike up a conversation because she is a guest.

"s-so... what brings you here to the kamisato estate?" you ask. in which the traveler replied with "originally, ayaka invited me. and ayato next." you don't know if it's just your eyes playing tricks on you or did the corner of her mouth raise upwards for a bit. you brush it off. maybe the grudge you have on her is going too far. i mean, it's not like you hate her though. but it's also not like you like her.

by now you've almost finished your tea. same goes for the traveler. you only had to endure a little bit more of this atmosphere and her because ayato should be back soon. so you lowered your guard and relaxed a bit. this whole time you only stared at your teacup, but it wouldn't hurt to take a glimpse at the traveler right? so slowly but hesitantly, you lift your eyes up to see her. already staring at you. but you couldn't break away from the eye contact. especially because she just asked you something you're also asking yourself.

"y/n. tell me. do you like ayato?"

despite having a smile on her face as she asked this, her tone was rather cold. it sent shivers down your spine. you don't know why she's asking this. but you also don't know the answer to that question.

...do you like ayato?

"I'm..."

that was the last thing you said before you went unconscious. before that, your vision went blurry and your head was getting dizzy. how could this be? all the years you've spent serving the kamisato clan, this has never happened.

a loud ringing on your ears forced you to wake up, you could hear numerous voices as you slowly opened your eyes. your vision was still blurry but you could figure out that someone was huge was standing before you.

"it's awake."

'it's? what do these people take me for'. --is what you would have thought when you realized you've been kidnapped and the kidnappers are a group of nobushis. you look at your surroundings, counting just how many they are until you finally notice someone beside you. the traveler. she's still unconscious. looking at her made you realize that you're also tied up and is unable to speak. screaming is no use. you seem to be in a... cave? you're not so sure because you don't remember a cave this huge at inazuma. you try to recall what happened and why you ended up here until you heard something a nobushi said.

"ya think he's coming here?"

"i heard he fancies these two. of course he will."

he? who's he? considering they kidnapped you and the traveler, don't tell me they're talking about him. not lord aya--

"oh well look who's here."

your eyes widen in shock when you turn to the direction they're facing. he's standing right there. ayato kamisato has come to save you. ...and the traveler. something moves beside you and you see the traveler, already awake, with tears in her eyes. isn't the traveler supposed to be strong and mighty? you don't understand, how were they able to kidnap her. in what situation was she in for her to become so vulnerable and be captured? i mean before all of this she was only with you-- !! your eyes widen. you saw ayato, ...glaring at you.

why was he glaring? you were in a pitiful situation right now, yet he glares at you as if you commited a crime. you can't believe it but... 'don't tell me thinks... i poisoned the traveler.' archons. he definitely thinks just that. the way his eyes softens as he looks to the girl beside you confirms so.

"give us the document. maybe we'll let both of them go." one of the nobushis spoke up. documents? what documents are they talking about? you handle all the documents for ayato, could it be he's been keeping something from you? are they comparing lives to a piece of document? surely ayato would-

"no. ...who sent you?" his voice cold as ice. the world has been surprising you a lot today. how important could that document be for it to be able to compare to a person's life. "straightforward i see... too bad, if you don't give us the documents any time we'll kill both of your precious little friends and this place will blow up soon." one of the nobushis spoke up again, it was the same guy as earlier. normally, ayato would be able to beat a few nobushis on his own. but he's way outnumbered right now. for some reason he knows that you and the traveler was taken here, yet he still came alone. you look beside you and see that the traveler is now crying. compared to the mighty traveler you seem to be too calm. you shouldn't be, in a situation like this. is it because ayato is now here? although he probably hates your guts already. but you just trust him way too much.

"...not giving in eh? then let's see..."

the nobushi paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about another way to make ayato give in and for them to gain something out of him. the nobushi smirked.

"...if you give us some mora... we'll let ya choose one of them to go with. give us the documents, you all can go home safe and sound. give us none and... you'll die with them." and finally, you felt... fear. your heart was racing. you didn't know it was this bad. earlier you already knew that you're this close to death's door but you weren't panicking at all. you also don't mind dying if it was for ayato. from an early age you already knew that you had to serve and protect their clan no matter what-- even if you have to pay the price of your own life. so why panic now? is it because the nobushis are going to far with their negotiations? is it because you're knocking right at death's door? or maybe it's because you're afraid that ayato will abandon you. choosing someone else, right infront of you in a critical situation like this. but surely he wouldn't, right?

" ...traveler," he throws a pouch of mora to the ground towards the nobushis. you remember when you both were strolling around at inazuma city after dinner. when he mentions that ever since he saw you looking through the stalls but not buying anything, he figured he'd buy them for you. so he always carried a pouch of mora. for you... and not for anyone el-

".. let's go." what? are you hearing things right? but judging by the way they pull the traveler and untie her, it seems that you are. but you wish you weren't. it turns out he really would choose someone else. the traveler lunges to embrace ayato. seeing ayato slowly hug her back, patting her back to calm down her tears and letting her cry on his shoulder just made your broken heart break even further. you get it. with the traveler's back facing you as they embrace, you take a glimpse of ayato until his gaze lands on you.

" ...y/n..."

his tone was somewhat... soft. you assume on a lot of things and right now you don't wanna expect but, you are. is this his last words to me? is he telling me he's sorry? is he gonna tell me how he regrets doing this? and that he never really wanted this to happen? and that i'm someone special to him, viewing me more than just a serv-

" --how dare you."

...and his gaze turns dark. what for? you didn't even do anything. his eyes glares at you as if you both were never friends. or maybe you were never really a friend to him. and he always thought of you as a mere servant. just like the rest. you were just- too naive. so foolish. thinking you were special. special just because he went looking for you and bought medicine and special rare tea in a day when you were sick for work. special cause he always invited you for tea breaks, conversing with you and only you. special because he always relies on you, and you allowed yourself to be relied on, --when you had no one to rely on for yourself. was those years of being with him nothing for him? was it that worthless in his eyes? that you could just be replaced and abandoned any time? you thought you were someone special in his life when he treated you differently compared to others.

but what about the way you treat him?

you treat him as if you were nothing without him. because he was everything to you. you were only this happy with him. only him. if you think of the most memorable memory you've ever had, it would include him. the day you first met him, and today. the last day you're seeing ayato. you watch them slowly turn their heels to leave. and all of a sudden you spoke. you couldn't help it, you spoke without even thinking. and now you don't know what to say. or maybe-- you just don't want to say it.

"a-ayato..." 'did you ever think if me as more than a friend?'... heck- more than a worker even. you wanted to ask just that. but you wouldn't. cause you couldn't. "...thank you, but I did nothing wrong." you say as you smile. that was your final words before the traveler and ayato takes more steps towards another path, probably leading to the exit. you hesitantly and slowly lift your eyes up to take one. last. look to ayato and... the traveler. and last time your eyes were playing tricks on you, but now you realize it wasn't. cause she was smirking again. smirking at you. leaving you to death.

anger. shame. resentment.

fury rises inside of you. you were raised to be patient with others. it was your job. so you've never felt this way for someone before. you wanted to scream but you couldn't. all you could think about was the traveler.

...the traveler!! the traveler!! the traveler.

it was all because of her that you're in a state like this. ever since she came, things changed. she was the person ayato replaced you with. the person he chose to spend the rest of his life with. and the reason why he threw away all of his memories with you and treated you like nothing. he chose a girl he just met instead of a childhood friend companion who has done nothing but pledge loyalty to him. now that you think about it... for ayato you would risk your life for him, die for him even. but he wouldn't do that for you. he only showed up for the traveler when you thought he came to save you.

it felt like your world was crumbling right before your eyes, watching them walk away, leaving you to death. you could mean that literally since anytime now you might be reduced to nothing but also... ayato is your world. to you he is everything. growing up with him, growing with him. he really is that special to you.

too bad,

he doesn't even see you as anything more than a servant. to him you were, not. special. at. all.

their footsteps has slowly faded away. they left. they've left you. behind, to die. it seems... this is it. you hear the nobushis chuckling and talking amongst eachother,

"geez... what a show! anyway.., are the preparations complete?"

"really? then we could go!"

"where did she say we would meet her again?"

"that bitch... making us do all of this. if it weren't for the mora then I wouldn't have agreed."

her? who's her? who's she? these thoughts seem all too familiar, and once again, you got your answer quickly.

"oh the traveler asked us to meet her at jinren island." a nobushi replied. just when you thought your hatred for her couldn't get any worse. however your thoughts were completely cut off when the nobushis all started leaving you. not even batting a single eye. you remembered them mentioning something that would leave you to ashes here. what was it again? if you recall quickly it was probably a-- "a bomb," --a nobushi says to you. as if he could read your mind. "a few minutes from now, once we all leave, this place will get wrecked. including... you." the nobushi laughs. you have never been this lonely before. i mean, you always had ayato beside you. but now that he personally left you for someone else- who do you have now? you have no answer for that. or maybe it is the answer. nothing. no one is there to help you. your reason to live is gone. atleast, you served your life's purpose before you die. you were never really that close to others including your family because of ayato. so you have nothing to lose now. but... you wish you could atleast take revenge on the traveler... even though you hate that idea. revenge isn't something you would even consider but.. the traveler is a different case.

today has given you particularly a lot of last things. like your last thoughts just now. before feeling a strong burst of energy and the brightest light you've ever seen. and everything turns dark.

...your eyes are closed and you can't move your body. but you're hearing something... footsteps? oh, a voice.

" ...how pitiful,"

you fall into deep sleep once again after feeling such an electrifying strike on your back.

... just who was that?

[luveline]

hello lovely, I was wondering if I could ask for a soft remus request. maybe loser!reader where someone made them feel invisible and remus comforts them? I hope that makes sense ily <3

ily ty for requesting!! <3 fem, 1.3k

“Come on, poppet,” Sirius says in one of his teasing tones as he puts a hefty looking glass of pale ale in front of you, “cheer up and get sloshed.”

“Oh, I really don’t want to drink tonight,” you say, surprised he’d get you something. 

“That’s for me. This,” —he puts a short glass to the pale ale— “is for you. From him.” 

You look up from the dark table to spy said him across the way. Remus stands behind the bar with a relaxed smile, arms holding himself up and biceps just that little bit tight against his sleeves. You send him a shy smile. 

It’s an ice cold mix of your favourite. You send him another smile as you drink it, not sure how to cope with the fact that he’s still looking at you when you do. He raises his eyebrows a touch before a customer steals his attention. 

“He should really quit,” James says happily. “He’s enabling me.”

You push the bowl of roasted peanuts toward him. “Abstinence,” you say. You’re still feeling wobbly, not quite happy, but better to move forward then dwell on things. Plus, Remus’ nice smile reminds you that he’s on your side.

“Remus gives you a Help to Stop card every time you buy a second round,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. 

“But Marlene lets me drink as much as I want.” James waves at her. She blows him a kiss from the table she’s bussing two chairs over. “Bad place. Takes advantage of me. And there’s too much riff raff.”

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right.”

They chat to each other enough to make up for your silence and Remus’ absence. He’ll be off any minute now, joining you for a quick drink if he’s awake enough to manage it before you head home. You can’t bring yourself to watch him, knowing he’ll be chatting, giving pretty girls polite smiles and prettier boys their refills. He can be charismatic when he wants to be. He’s a natural flirt deep down. You hope he doesn’t flirt with other people. 

He wouldn’t. 

Or maybe he would? You’re not exciting like that. 

“Penny for your thoughts, lovely girl?” 

He says it quietly, pressing his pet name into the side of your head as he slips into the chair next to yours. Suddenly he’s here. He sneaks up on you too often. 

“Not worth the penny,” you murmur back. 

“I don’t think that’s true. Do you want another drink? I’ve closed my line, but I–”

You shake your head, not having finished the first one he sent over. He smells like the too sweet cloy of beer, but his breath is minty on your cheek. “Fine, be that way. You make it hard to spoil you.”

“Yuck.” 

“Ew,” he agrees. Remus gives the top of your shoulder a gentle shake. “Not feeling well?” 

“She was attacked, Moons, I told you this,” Sirius says.

You glare at him as Remus says, “Mm. You okay?” 

“I wasn’t attacked, that’s– you know. It was the opposite of an attack. I was–” Ignored. You attempt to shove it down even as the memory surges up, the heat of knowing you’d been deemed a loser, the shrug off, the giggling. “Sirius.” 

“What? If I didn’t tell him he would’ve been pissed off with me and you know I can’t afford butter right now. I need my toast fix.” 

James and Sirius are nice, good guys, but Remus is the only person who can really make you feel better. He knows it. You all know it. But it’s too embarrassing to divulge the details of what happened. You’d told Sirius and James in a strange flustered panic as you sat down, and you don’t fancy telling the story again. 

In the bathroom, there had been a group of girls taking photographs. You didn’t know them, but they were around your age, beautiful, and giggling at not being able to fit in one photograph. 

I can take it, you’d offered. That way you can all be in the frame? 

One girl smiled at you but the rest didn’t even look up. You know you’d said it loudly. You seem to have this effect on people. Total invisibility. 

“Can’t afford butter, can’t afford his own pints,” Remus says, reaching under the table to touch your thigh. His fingertips dig into the softer part of the inner thigh as he brushes downward to your knee. “Next I’ll be paying his rent.” 

“It’s the least you could do,” James says. “Do you think they’ll put the rugby on if I ask?” 

Remus stands and beckons for you to come with him. “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Home?” He holds out his hand for you to take. “The shop first.” 

He twines your fingers and waves to the boys. You’ll see them again in an hour or two when they come home, but as soon as you and Remus leave the pub, you might as well be all alone in the world. It’s dark as pitch despite the early evening hour and twice as cold, wind like needles thrown at your hands. Remus puts his open hand out to pull your empty one into his side. It’s a funny way to walk. 

“Are you terribly upset?” 

“Mm… no,” you decide. 

“James said you,” —his voice turns soft and careful— “looked a little bit welled up. Like you might cry. It’s okay if you were upset.” 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“Dove, if you were to be believed, everything is embarrassing. But you’ve never done anything to be embarrassed of.” You take your hands back. “Oh, except that.” 

You laugh as he snatches your hands back, your laughter whipped away with the mean winds as you make your way through the alley that leads to the small corner shop on the way home. “No one sees me like you,” you say. 

“People are fucking rude,” he says with a shrug. “They could’ve at least said they were fine.” 

“I don’t know if it’s rude–”

“It is–”

“I’m a stranger and they were probably fine without my help. But it was weird to have nobody say anything. It made me feel so silly.” 

“If it were you,” Remus says, weight in his words as glances at you from the side, his hair dancing away from his ears, “you would’ve looked them in the eyes and said no, thanks. You would’ve acknowledged them. It’s not kind to treat people like they don’t matter.” 

“I don’t matter.” 

Your weak tone slows his pace. 

“I mean, not to them,” you correct. 

Remus slides an arm over your shoulder, humming from his chest. “Yes, you do,” he says, kissing your cheek, “of course you matter. You’re everything to the people who love you. You’re more than that to me. Please don’t think otherwise.” He presses his lips and chin to your temple. “Yeah?” he asks quietly. “You matter, dove, you do.”

“Why does this happen to me so often?” you ask in a similar quiet. 

“You’re not like everyone else.” He grins at you. “We’re not like other people. Thank god.” His lips press again to your cheek. “I hope all their pictures turn out shit.” 

“Sorry if I’m overreacting.” 

“I think you’re underreacting. I think I should go back and have them banned.” Remus gives you one last kiss before he steps back, ushering you down the pavement to the neon lights of the corner shop. “But I’m going to buy you some chocolates instead. Is that alright? Should I go back?” 

He starts walking back the way you came. You catch tight to his hand and force him into the shop before he can get too far away. 

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  having a secret enemies to lovers relationship with them 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Jayce Talis, Vi, Ambessa Medarda, Mel Medarda, Ekko

content: f!reader, nsfw content, mild violence mentions

notes: this was commissioned by the most lovely @angelltheninth !! thank you so much again!! 💜

Honestly, JAYCE refuses to admit just how much he finds himself drawn to you. You're everything he's not, working in the shadows for Silco while he's Piltover's golden boy, the Man of the Future, and yet there's some odd tension between the two of you that he can't deny. He aches to label it as natural hate, though that couldn't be further from the truth. The catalyst for your eventual growing fondness of each other is when he's got you pinned down, imposing hammer so close to obliterating you and, God, he can't do it. You're his enemy, certainly, and yet he finds himself absentmindedly brushing some dirt off your cheek, touch gentle despite those huge hands.

After that, things go all too fast. One moment you're kissing, you softly moaning into his mouth, the next you try and sneak into the Academy, trying your hardest not to appear suspicious and, well — if you end up making out on one of the tables he usually does science stuff on, who can blame you? It feels all too nice to wrap your legs around his wide waist, pulling him closer while his dick pushes into you, calloused fingers roaming over your skin as if he's desperate to feel as much of you at the same time as somehow possible. It's all too good, until the sound of approaching footsteps, accompanied by the rhythmic thumping noise of a cane, makes both of you flinch, and you're forced to hide in an empty storage room, still dripping with need.

“Fuck, talk about horrible timing—, quick, in here, in here. God. Hopefully he'll leave real quick again, I'm stil hard; don't you worry, we'll continue just where we left off in but a moment. We just can't get caught.”

There is no word for what VI feels for you other than 'hate'. How could she not? As an Enforcer, you're her complete opposite, you're used to the riches and comfortable life of Piltover and, well, she would've never thought she could ever grow fond of you, but it turns out you look awfully pretty underneath her, pinned to the ground of Zaun. There's mud caked to the side of your face and a stray trail of blood runs down your forehead and, oh — for some reason, you don't do anything but moan softly when she leans down to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, her thick thigh spreading your own apart.

It's adorable how your cheeks flush when she calls you a teasing nickname; it's downright sweet when you whimper and press your body against her own. Your very reactions make you so very human, so very much like her. You're not that different from her at all, it appears, and that realisation itself makes things complicated. Vi swears she despises you, hates you with all her heart, but when she sneaks away to your usual meeting place, the sixth time this week, rough touches having turned into loving embraces along the way, she can't say she's being entirely truthful.

“Hey, sugar! You made it. Fuck, I'm always so happy to see ya, it's ridiculous. My heart's beatin' all fast. Oh—, hey, you're eager today, hm? Wanna continue that badly where we were interrupted last time? Fine by me. You gotta spread those cute legs of yours then, darl.”

It comes as no surprise that a powerful woman such as AMBESSA has quite a lot of enemies. There's all too many people who wish her death or worse for the countries she's conquered or the people she's slayed — and yet you're the only one who has ever caught her eye. It's all too easy to have you brought to her luxurious chambers, and even when you're glaring at her, eyes narrowed with nothing short of hatred, she doesn't care, really. Her fingers come up to grab your chin, keeping your head in place as her gaze rakes over your face, taking every feature of your face in.

You're not sure whether to be enraged or relieved that, apparently, she's satisfied with what she sees, though it's a lot preferable when, minutes later, she seats you on one thick thigh of hers rather than having you beheaded. Really, you couldn't stifle your mewls and moans even if you tried when she grinds said leg up against your already dripping folds. Over time, you grow fond of her — something you hadn't thought possible —; your relationship stays a secret, but your smile at her praise is honest, your laughter joining her boisterous one is not an act at all. She's surprisingly sweet for such a bold woman and, well; the fact that she leaves you unable to walk for a day or two whenever she's between your legs is a pretty convincing factor to stay with her, too.

“Aren't you just the sweetest little one? C'mon, now, no need to be shy. You've been grinding against my thigh like a bitch in heat before, haven't you? Surely you can do it again. Though, if my leg isn't good enough for you, maybe you're just not as desperate to cum as I thought.”

There's always been tension between you and MEL; how could there not be when you were anything she didn't stand for, being her political enemy and everything? Really, the amount of bickering you two did was close to ridiculous, and yet neither of you seemed to mind it all too much. Even though you don't make a pretty picture up on a stage or behind the council roundtable, you look all too ethereal on her bed, legs spread wide and arching your back while slender fingers alternate between gently rubbing and meanly pinching your throbbing clit.

Really, you'd worry about it being all too obvious how often you search up her quarters, though she's quick to distract you with soft kisses and the occasional cruel graze of teeth against your neck. There's no need to worry about anything, truly; when Mel wants your relationship to stay between the two of us, it will remain a secret at all costs.

“My, my. You're quite adorable today, hm? So very needy for my touch, and yet I remember quite clearly how you've challenged me in front of the rest of the Council. Love, it almost looks like you were aching to be punished by me. Is that not the case? I might go easier on you if you at least admit it.”

EKKO despises you. There's no way around it. Ekko despises you and, if needed, fights you with all his might, and yet his expression, Firelight mask long knocked off his face, softens oh so visibly when he, one day, meets you at random, your injuries awfully bad. He's not sure what he's thinking when he takes you in and cares for your wounds, nursing you back to health; you're his enemy, damn it, and he should act like it, but the only explanation he has for how he's acting is that empathy is an all too human trait he can't seem to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. He can't just leave you in the Undercity to rot.

By the time you're back to full health, you can't deny that, even though you're supposed to be enemies, you've bonded quite a bit. He's funny and loving, protective of you, even; and even though your relationship has to stay secret at all costs, given how he'd otherwise lose credibility with the Firelights and you'd be called a traitor, you both can't help but sneak away at night to see each other, you embracing him in a loving hug and his lips pressing against yours all too eagerly. With Ekko, it takes a while until it gets to making out and getting even more intimate, but that's quite alright. There's no need to rush it; you're both more than happy to lose track of time while cuddling and kissing.

“Would've never thought that, one day, I'd be kissin' someone like you like this. Hey—, in a positive way. Don't get me wrong on purpose. Y'know I love everything about you. Yeah? Good. It's almost sunrise, though. 'm afraid you'll have to go back soon.”

tags: @vislovelywife @Mamanaga @vaemadz @cicada-teeth @jinxsslut @silcosnumber1 @coochie-intervention @inertiacreams @shinwifexx @rhaeena @bumbookitten @greeniegreengreen @my-awakened-ghost @afidiofobia @helloyellowsheeps @yuuotosaka3 @sccarymonster @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @artsyxabbyx @ cyan-skulls @arboranimus @marina-and-the-memes @holysmokesblog @twilightdollie @kaaylvst @definitely-not-v @innerstrawberrypolice @misty-q @perylinsus @pleasemakeitgayer @imaginesbymk @meimayooo @doxmino @smolbeandrabbles @darknessbyme @darthkenobii @mars738 @cupcakkesinflatedwetbussy @illicittete @lemzhargreeves @festivalthrash

@savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @user4837 @Nervousartisanheart @mikariell95 @mechmoucha

@silcobrainrot @Medeaa5 @nocturnal-onlooker @modernamilf @catsaiem @t0r @beyondblissxoxo @zillahvathek @brainrottingrn @klaudia7 @okura-s

@666abby6666 @ironnieincarn8 @watercolourdreams @scturne19 @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @cowboykiri @soullessbody @thottywizard @celebrity-crushes27 @ygrworld @sevikasslvtt @chaoticevilbakugo @trashbod @MiloMalaise @berywritesstuff @alice0blog @gooseberries88 @s1t1n0ny0url4p @black-rose-29

[therealpie02]

Peace through struggle

Pairings: Yunho x fem! reader

Summary: You had a fight with your boyfriend. But you haven't seen each other for a long time, and if words can't resolve your conflict, then another way will help.

Genre: smut 18+

Word count: ~2k

Warnings: it’s just a fiction! soft dom!Yunho, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, squirting, let me know if I missed something

A/N: friendly reminder English isn’t my native language <3 my first work on the new acc ^^

———————————————————————

You haven't seen each other for about three weeks. Constant departures and training, Yunho stayed in the dorm with Yeosang because it was more convenient for him to get to his bed to sleep for 4 hours at most and start a hard day again. You've missed him so much these days, but that didn't mean you'd let him act like a complete jerk.

And after your quarrel, you were lying on the bed with your back to the window and hugging your pudongie. Yunho remained sitting in the kitchen finishing his dinner. "Well, go to hell," you thought when you heard sounds from the next room. Yes, your boyfriend is the best, sweetest and most gentle in this white world, even a golden retriever is not as good as him. However, there were days when (as you say) his stubborn Aries nature breaks out and he insists on his own.

Maybe it's because you're both tired, you came home after a hard shift at work, Yunho just recently got off the plane to the ground. Nevertheless, you didn't want to think about anything, just look at the darkening sunset.

After a while, you heard Yunho's footsteps coming into your bedroom. He dragged his bag, put it on the sofa and began to put his things on the shelves of the closet. During all this time, you didn't even turn to look at him, although you felt his burning gaze on your back. At some point, the mattress of the bed bent and you heard the sound of unlocking the phone. Anger was raging in you, the blood was boiling in your veins. You lay there and slowly went crazy, no one knew how much longer you could hold out like that, so that right now you wouldn't lie on top of him and start asking him to fuck you while he was just listlessly flipping through his tape on the phone.

It was already dark outside the window when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You instantly jerked and threw your boyfriend's hand off you. Your body's reaction was the opposite, you wanted Yunho to touch you again, but you couldn't let him get out of this situation so easily. Yunho moved to your side of the bed so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. This feeling ignited a fire inside you that demanded attention, but you couldn't give up so quickly.

His fingers began to slowly stroke you from shoulder to hip. Why was it so unbearably pleasant? You squeezed your eyes shut and brought your legs together, almost lying on your stomach. You let him stroke you further until his fingers got under your T-shirt and traced circles on your back, which made you exhale loudly. Gathering up his courage, Yunho approached your ear.

"Y/n, look at me, please," he whispered, starting to kiss your ear, face and neck. A long kiss on the neck knocked all the air out of you, and his bite after that made you moan softly. But you immediately fell silent, pretending that you didn't care about his manipulations.

"Y/n," he said again and tried to turn you around so that you could look at him, but your grip on the pudongie was strong enough for him to be defeated. The fingers finished their machinations with you, and his warmth next to you evaporated in the same second. Well, apparently he decided to talk to you tomorrow.

Thoughts of sleep were already creeping into your head when suddenly strong hands grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to fly into the air and kneel. Pudongie fell off the bed altogether. Out of surprise, you didn't even notice how those same hands got under your T-shirt and were already squeezing your boobs quite hard.

"You're so stubborn," your boyfriend's deep voice came from behind. Yunho pressed your back against his chest so that you could feel his hard cock with your ass even through your clothes. You swore under your breath, damn it, you really wanted him, and he knew it perfectly well.

"Honey, I don't need your words today, so you can keep quiet as long as you want while I fuck you."

With that, he bent you down so that you had to get on all fours. He left kisses on your neck, long fingers hooked the elastic band of your pajama pants along with your underwear and pulled down. He waited a bit to get a reaction from you that would allow him to do what he was going to do. You nodded at him without looking. The cold air made you shiver and clench your legs, which your boyfriend didn't like. Yunho didn't bother to take off your pants and underpants to the end, but forced you to spread your legs wider with the force of his hands. He froze for a second and stopped doing anything to you, thoroughly enjoying the view. You wanted to turn around and look at the expression on his admiring face, but his hand on your neck stopped any of your attempts.

"I'm going to fuck you so that you forget the reason we had a fight," he said, taking off his clothes along the way. To tell the truth, you've already forgotten what you quarreled about, but you won't spoil your pleasure. It wasn't every day that Yunho found the strength to have aggressive sex. But when he found it…

"Oh.." you moaned when you felt two of his fingers enter you and quickly move deeper. You were already wet enough, but the lack of constant practice could hurt you. However, no matter how good your boyfriend's intentions were, you desperately wanted his cock. The other hand was tracing circles on your clit, and this is the symphony you missed these days of separation. It seems you whimpered, realizing that you wouldn't last that long.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to say anything anymore, I just want you," Yunho whispered into your back and straightened up. He took his fingers away, and you could have cried on the spot, until a strong push into you almost knocked you off balance. You could have sworn that you tore the pillow you were clutching into when Yunho gave another quick and deep thrust.

"Fu-.." another one, his big cock felt so good in you, he filled you all over, the speed of his thrusts did not allow you to think clearly. You fell on your elbows when Yunho grabbed you by the waist, holding you in place, and continued to push into you with the same frantic speed. Your screams and his moans filled your bedroom, you were both wet with sweat, besides you couldn't control your tears from the approaching orgasm.

"Tell me when you..."

"Yunho, now!" He pulled dick out and continued to fuck you with three fingers. More, more and more, you were stunned by the pleasant feelings that rolled over you, so you couldn't hear how loudly you screamed, stopped feeling how violently your pussy was squeezing around Yunho's fingers and completely did not notice how everything became wet under you.

You were still regaining consciousness when your boyfriend gently turned you over, laid you on your back and whispered right into your lips.

"I missed you" his moist and soft lips were so close to yours, but he barely touched you. That son of a bitch was being played by you when he was so devastatingly handsome, wet hair stuck to his forehead, ears turned charmingly red, and his bottomless eyes looked straight into your soul.

"Me too," there's not a drop of pride left in your body after this round. Your hands stroked his broad shoulders, you put one hand on the back of his head, slightly squeezing his hair into a fist, trying to pull him towards you. He smirked insidiously, but obeyed and kissed you the way you wanted.

A second later, you feel how he directs the head of his penis back into your orgasm-sensitive entrance. The kiss was interrupted by your prolonged moan. You squeezed your eyes shut from the intense stimulation, it was between unbearable pain and complete bliss. Opening your eyes, you found Yunho kneeling and looking down at you. He looked at you with a face full of satisfaction and power. His hands took your hips and pressed them against his waist so that you could fix them. You could tell by his look and smile that your end was coming. He grabbed you by the waist again, but this time his grip was much stronger so that traces could remain and began to pound into you with all his strength. A stream of curses came from your mouth, your sensitive pussy sent waves of his thrusts all over your body. You wanted to hold on to the blanket so you wouldn't try to escape, but the man pulled your arms over your head with one hand.

"Fuck Yunho," you continued to scream and moan incessantly. "I can't take it anymore!"

His response was a deep and fast thrust into your sweet spot, then he repeated it again and again, again.

"Yunho, I..."

"Come on," he replied, pressing his thumb on your clitoris, which made you feel like you were breaking into fucking pieces of the remnants of your consciousness.

After a couple of seconds, you could feel his cock expanding inside you and shooting hot cum. Yunho moaned and tried to catch his breath with deep breaths, drops of sweat dripped on you and his hands threatened to crush you.

He pulled out his cock and you felt cold and empty, as well as his sperm began to pour out of you. With his fingers, he gathered what came out of you and brought it to your mouth. He lay down next to you and watched as you licked the cum off his fingers under the onslaught of his dominant gaze. He smiled wearily.

"How about falling asleep in a hug now, we'll think about a shower tomorrow?"

You couldn't do anything but kiss him gently, hug him and fall asleep on his chest.

[heytherelysia]

creep!yan x shy loner reader

in the name of messy format

male yan, gn reader, semi proofread, set in a school environment, stalking, threats of violence (not directed to reader), possessiveness, a hint of non consensual kissing.

creep!yan who has earned the reputation of being so eccentric, constantly giggling for no reason, his head always slightly ducked and his iconic hand fidgets. majority of the students understandably don't like him and would prefer not to be in the same place he's in. nobody knows why he is the way he is.

creep!yan who is okay with having no friends. he understands that the nature of his personality is... disturbing, but lately he's been lonely! he feels like he's ready to give his love to someone but the people in the school are sooo boring!

but then he finds you eating your lunch in an isolated bench. he's never heard about you, let alone even see you, but you have him intrigued, so he giddily walks up to you.

nobody has ever sat right next to you during lunch break, so for him to be so close to you is a surprise. having company is not a bother, but the way he just stares at you with a smile that practically reaches his ears without even muttering a word is very eery. "...can... i help you?..."

your words got a reaction out of him as he lets out a giggle that eventually turns to a maniacal laugh. what is wrong with him? it's a good thing that you chose such a deserted area to eat in, so many people could've seen and heard the two of you, but is it really a good thing?

he slams his hands on both sides of your thighs, snapping you out of your thoughts as his face is so close to you. you can almost see his eyes glisten.

"you're really fucking cute!"

"oh... uhm... thanks."

out of embarrassment, you turn your head to the side to avoid eye contact with him. you don't know that you're making him want you more.

"tell! tell! what's your name!?"

"..."

"... it's (name).."

"(name)... hehe, i like it! i like you!"

you didn't see it coming as he swiftly licks your cheek. he walks away giggling and gives you one last glance, it's that eery face again.

creep!yan who stalks you everyday from then on. he doesn't even hide it that he's stalking you. when you lock eyes while he's eyeing you by the corner of the wall, he just gives you a big smile.

he tries his best just to be in the same class as you (preferably sitting right next to you), even if he's not interested in such subjects. he will put his hands on top of yours, and if you flinch away, he'll just grab it and never let go.

in times that he is not stalking you or in the same place as you are, you'll receive sticky notes in your table. these notes would range from gentle reminders, such as the time when a lunchbox was on your desk with a note that says "i made you lunch cutie! hope you eat well <3". you didn't eat the lunch he worked hard on in fear that he might've poisoned it. if he had known you threw it in the trash, he would've had a tantrum.

and speaking of tantrums, he doesn't throw a fit often, he won't take a no from you and he takes what he wants. the only time you've seen him have a tantrum was when a fellow student approached you. they had the intent of befriending because they think you look very lonely and you were about to accept their offer until you heard footsteps with such vigor. you knew it was his, the amount of times you've heard him trail you behind tells you so. he grabs them by the collar and moves them away from you, "you get the fuck away from them or i'll tear you limbs off, they're mine." he spits with such venom, quite the opposite of how he talks to you. they frantically walk away while nodding but he had more to say. "tell anyone about this and i'll gut you like a fucking fish."

he shifts to to another facade by the time he looks at you. forcefully cupping your face, he apologizes for displaying such an aggressive behavior. he tells you that he was doing it for you, that he's doing you a favor because they were no good for you, nobody else was no good for you. "you understand... right?"

you don't give him a reply as you are frozen in fear. you can't even tell an authority figure about this. even with airtight proof, you've heard that he has the privilege of having dirty money provided to him by his family. it makes sense why he never takes a no from you or anyone else, he was spoiled rotten the very second he was born until now.

as a result of his delusions, he thinks that you two are dating despite your obvious protests. "you don't want me to kiss you? too bad, 'cause your lips are so kissable!" he runs up to you and walk with you to school as he grabs your arm, he urges that you two eat together, study together, and do everything together, just like couples do! maybe he'll take you to his home and introduce you to his family one day.

i've spent most of my energy to this and it still feels short AUGH 😿

[soulofapatrick]

I Like Your Mind - Edward Cullen x female reader

Summary: As soon as you meet Edward, you're both drawn to each other with an intensity you never expected

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I step into the Cullen house, my heart racing in my chest, and my mind filled with a mixture of fear and fascination. Bella has brought me here, introducing me to the family of her new boyfriend - Jasper Hale - and I can hardly believe where I find myself. I know their secret, the one they’ve been hiding from the world, the fact they’re vampires. And I know Edward can read minds which makes the whole situation even more daunting. But, as Bella races off to find Jasper, I’m left alone I the living room, taking in the stunning surroundings. 

The Cullens’ house is unlike any place I’ve ever seen. The air is heavy with an unspoken history, and everything within is both timeless and modern. A grand piano rests against one wall, a dark mahogany masterpiece, and the soft notes of a melody linger in the air, a testament to the musical talents of the family. On the opposite wall, a massive bookshelf houses an impressive collection of novels and ancient texts. Their spines form a spectrum of human knowledge, artfully arranged. 

My gaze drifts to the floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the room, offering a breathtaking view of the dense, ancient forest that surrounds the house. The trees stand tall and proud, their branches intertwined like guardians, protecting the Cullens from prying eyes. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that dance across the polished wooden floors. 

As my eyes linger on the tranquil forest, my imagination takes flight. I envision myself running through the woods, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath my feet. The leaves would crunch softly with each step, and the intoxicating scent of pine and damp earth would fill my senses. My heart would race, and a rush of adrenaline would surge through me as I lose myself in the untamed beauty of the wilderness. But, what captivates me the most is the idea of running through the forest in the rain. The thought of raindrops falling like liquid diamonds from the heavens, pelting the leaves and creating a gentle, rhythmic melody, sends a shiver of delight down my spine. In my daydream, I am drenched, my clothes clinging to my skin as I twirl and leap through the woods, liberated and carefree.

The rain washes away all my worries and fears, leaving only the exhilaration of the moment. It's as if the world, with all its complexities and complications, has melted away, leaving only the simplicity and purity of the rain-soaked forest. It's a feeling of utter peace, a sense of being one with nature and the world, a sensation I've longed to experience again. 

Lost in the serenity of my daydream, I sense a subtle presence to my right. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a strange but not unwelcome shiver runs down my spine. Slowly, I turn my head to see one of the Cullen brothers standing there, a striking figure with sharp, chiseled features. He exudes an air of quiet strength and confidence, and I can't help but admire his physical appearance.

As I take in his feature, I quickly realise that this isn’t Jasper, as Bella would undoubtedly be with him if he were here. Besides, Jasper is known for his blond hair, which contrasts with the dark brunette locks of the Cullen brother beside me. His eyes, however, remain a shimmering gold, and their intensity is captivating. 

Going over Bella’s description, I recall that she mentioned Emmett to be big and buff. Emmett is tall and muscular. He has dark curly hair and dimpled cheeks. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is light-hearted and carefree. This man in front of me is almost quite the opposite with perfect and angular high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips causing my heart to quicken with a sudden realisation. In a hushed voice, I tentatively ask, “Edward?” 

The name hangs in the air between us, my uncertainty evident in the way I speak his name. The Cullen brother gives a small nod, his eyes holding a hint of amusement and there’s a small smile on his pretty lips as he says, “Hello.” His voice is a velvet whisper that sends a shiver down my spine. My cheeks heat up in response, and I can’t help but feel flustered by his presence. Turning my face away from him, I gaze out at the enchanting forest, using the breathtaking view to regain my composure. 

But just as I start to calm my racing heart, I sense his movement. Edward is moving closer, somewhat hesitantly as if he’s scared to do so but he moves so close I can feel the coolness of his chest against my back. The physical proximity is both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and I can’t help but wonder what his intention are as I continue to look out at the tranquil forest. 

The peaceful silence in the room is broken by Edward’s soft voice, barely above a whisper, “I like your mind,” he admits, his words sending a rush of warmth through me, “It’s quiet.” 

His words wash over me like a gentle caress, and I can’t deny the intrigue of his interest in my mind. It’s a compliment I could never have anticipated, coming from a vampire who can hear the thoughts of others. The intimacy of this moment is palpable, and I can sense the internal struggle within him, as if he’s torn between his desire to touch me and the realisation that we’ve only just met. 

Despite my rational thoughts screaming at me to maintain my distance, I surrender to the magnetic pull of Edward Cullen. My back leans into his cool, sculpted chest, and the sensation of his icy hands on my hips sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through me. It's as if the enchantment of the Cullen house, the breathtaking view of the forest, and Edward's irresistible presence have combined to create a spell that I am unable, and unwilling, to break. 

Closing my eyes, I allow myself to become completely enveloped in everything Edward. I’m hyperaware of how he feels behind me, the firmness of his chest pressed against my back, the subtle rise and fall of his breath against my neck as if it’s a force of habit for him despite vampires lack of need to breathe. His scent, a delicate blend of lilac, honey and sunshine, fills my senses and intoxicates me, wrapping me in a warm, inviting embrace. 

The moment feels intensely romantic, the air electric with the unspoken connection between us. I know that Edward can read my thoughts and perceive my view of him, and in this vulnerable instant, I choose not to resist. I grant him access tot he unfiltered depths of my desire, allowing him to see and feel the passion that simmers beneath the surface. 

The tension in the room crackles, the rain outside intensifying as if mirroring the fervour building within us. It's a clandestine dance of two souls drawn together by an unexplainable force. In this silent, electrifying embrace, I become an open book for Edward, my thoughts and desires laid bare, and I can only wonder what he'll make of the desires that race through my mind like wildfire

With a slow and deliberate movement, Edward turns me to face him, his eyes open and unguarded. They flicker with a hint of vulnerability, as if he, too, is uncertain of the depth of this connection. His gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as he hovers close. His fingers twirl my hair around them, an intimate gesture that feels like an attempt to memorise every part of me that he can reach. The air crackles with anticipation as I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this electrifying moment. 

Edward’s gaze remains locked on mine, a silent promise of the depths of emotions and desire that lie beneath the surface. In the hushed room, our shared anticipation and vulnerability create an electric tension that’s impossible to ignore. His lips are tantalisingly close, and I can feel the coolness of his breath as he hovers near. It’s as if he’s about to kiss me, his intentions clear in the smouldering depths of his golden eyes. But he hesitates, his voice barely a whisper as he mumbles something about not being able to stop once he starts, a confession laden with both longing and restraint. 

Unable to resist any longer, I tangle my fingers in his tousled hair, an intimate gesture that communicates my desire and intent. With a gentle, yet urgent push, I guide his face the rest of the way down until his lips finally meet mine. 

As our lips meet in a hesitant and guarded kiss, a complex swirl of emotions and desires floods the space between us. Edward, despite his initial restraint, can’t help but respond to the fiery connection we share. His lips, cool and soft, brush against mine with a caution born of a lifetime of self-control. The kiss begins with a tentative exploration, as if he’s testing the boundaries of this newfound intimacy. 

The initial hesitancy slowly gives way to a growing intensity, and I can sense his need for more. His grip on me tightens ever so slightly, fingers digging into my hips, a delicate balance between desire and restraint. His response is careful, as if he’s constantly aware of his vampire strength, wary of causing any harm to me. The kiss deepens, his passion building, and the chemistry between us becomes an irresistible force that pushes us further into uncharted territory. 

With a slow and deliberate movement, he begins to walk me backwards, his lips never leaving mine, until my back makes contact with the cool glass of the windows, drawing a gasp from me. It has Edward smiling softly, golden eyes a little glazed as if in a trance of disbelief this is happening before his cold nose bumps my neck, making my pulse jump. I should be scared by how close he is to my jugular but I don’t feel any fear or anything, especially when Edward places a soft kiss on my jugular, a silent acknowledgement of the temptation that throbs beneath my skin. His lips are cold, but their touch is gentle, sending shivers of desire coursing through me. 

My hands tangle back in his soft locks, guiding his lips back to mine, their coldness a stark contrast to the burning passion that courses between us. In that moment, I am both vulnerable and empowered, willingly allowing myself to be drawn further into this intoxicating dance of desire. 

Each kiss makes me feel more alive, more connected to a world I never knew existed. The world outside may be drenched in rain, but in this electrifying embrace, a different kind of storm rages, a tempest of emotions and desires that we can’t control. His lips, cool and velvety soft, meet mine over and over again in a symphony of fire and ice, a fusion of elements that ignite a burning desire deep within me. 

His body presses against mine, a solid and unyielding presence that leaves me feeling both vulnerable and empowered. The contrast between his cool skin and the heat of my own sets my senses ablaze. As we deepen our connection, the room seems to spin around us, and I lose myself in the feeling of everything Edward. 

The room is charged with our passion, and I can feel it deep in my core. Every kiss is like a secret, a stolen moment in a world that is entirely our own. We lose track of time and space, our lips locked in an intimate dance that only intensifies the fever that has drawn us together in the first place. 

But then, like a bolt of lightning in our own private storm, I hear Bella’s joyful squeal. Edward pulling away from me, and I let my face fall into the warmth of his chest, overwhelmed by embarrassment. As I hide from the world, I can feel the soft rumble of amused laughter in Edward’s chest, a sound that both soothes and electrifies me in equal measure. 

“Fuck yeah!” Bells shrieks with joy and I flip her off over Edward’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around me, stifling a laugh as he can probably hear all of my silent insults and embarrassed thoughts thrown Bella’s way. 

“It’s okay.” He murmurs, fingers carding through my hair and I just hum, letting my eyes flutter closed in contentment. I don’t care how quick this is happening, all I know is I need Edward and no-one else so I’ll live with the embarrassment if it means I can have Edward. 

“You have me.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

Twilight Masterlist

[irndad]

Flower prompt request for Spencer Reid please!!!

Arbutus combined with Freesia.

And if you wanna add in something suggestive or downright filthy, there will be no complaints! (Or just a heartfelt fluff fest)

Thank youuuuu! (Will totally understand if you aren’t interested though!)

-🌕

hi!! this is sfw but here u go!! i hope you enjoy!! requests r open <3 flower prompts

Something’s wrong with her.

Not wrong, of course. Quite the opposite, really. She looks beautiful, a swipe of a purplish red on her pretty lips, a cowl neck dress wrapped around her form like a well-made glove. She’s a vision, and he adores looking at her- he doesn’t get the chance as often as tonight. While they get the chance to talk on the plane (when no one else is sleeping) or at the bar after cases, but this- this is an entire night she’s spent by his side. 

He normally doesn’t like when the FBI does these galas, but they’re fundraising, and now his beautiful coworker who’s a little more than that is drinking rosé out of a thin stemmed wine glass. He adores the sight of her.

“You okay?” He hears himself say, and there’s a beat of silence before she looks up from her beverage, and smiles a false grin at him.

“Right as rain, Spencer.” She grins back at him, leaning back on the table they were standing by.

“You’re acting different,” he says, “You’ve been quiet, and you seem distant from the team. You didn’t have any of the cupcakes Penelope brought in, either.”

“I didn’t want too much sugar in the morning!”

“Now, that is a lie.” He finds himself smiling at her when he says it. Things move naturally with her, have a flow of conversation that takes no effort, only gentle enjoyment. 

She really does look so pretty. This is a factual thing Spencer has noticed- a fact of her that he would be blind not to see. It’s evolutionarily advantageous to want to look at beautiful things. It doesn’t mean anything. 

She sighs fondly down into her glass, her breath causing ripples in the wine.

“Can I tell you something?” She says, and it shocks him. He feels a bit like an insider, and adores the feeling of being on the inside of a secret of hers. He’d like to be someone she tells things to. 

He nods, awaiting with baited breath.

“I went out with this guy who’s here tonight. 

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so warm. 

Except, it shouldn’t bother him- they’re not dating. She’s beautiful, all soft lines and curve, lovely blooming smiles and kind-heartedness, and he’s a pipe cleaner with eyes. It’s not a thought he’s entertained-

But still, in this moment, Spencer’s not blind to the image they’re projecting. Hanging back at a party, low lighting and hushed conversation, her in a beautiful dress and him in a rented tux- he could see how someone could mistake the two of them for- for something. 

Did he want that? 

“Spence?” She shakes him out of his thoughts, warm tone punctuated by her adorable head tipping to the side. Had she always been that adorable?

“Sorry, sorry,” he rambles, “You went out with an FBI agent?” His tone is incredulous. She jokingly slaps his arm, and he fills with affection.

“Don’t be mean! It was literally one date, it was before I knew how obnoxious Agent Bennet was. Believe me, he made me realize about ten minutes in.”

She tells him the story of their first and only date, and while he is sure it’s full of anecdotes that are effervescent and hilarious, all he can think about is date with her, date with her, date with her. 

He’d be on time, if they went out. He’d be well-dressed, put together and polite. She’s so lovely, so kind and so sweet and it’s only now he realizes that this is something he can want. 

“So you’d go out with another federal agent?” It’s clumsy and awkward of a question, but it seems the only time it would ever be appropriate to ask it. 

She shrugs, smiling at him.

“If it was the right person, sure.”

“And Bennett wasn’t?”

“No, I don’t think so. I like a different type of guy, you know. Kinda nerdy."

Even despite this, when Spencer spills his coffee on Bennett's legal pad the following week, he can't drum up even a little bit of remorse.

[delululand]

txt ideal type (and what are they like in a relationship?)

don't take it too seriously, these are just my observations based on analysis of their words, interviews and behavior in general

p.s. i lived in Korea for a few months and it gave me some impressions too

soobin

he often said that he like cute type of beauty and he don’t like too sexy type like yeonjun hahaha

and even if it’s not 100% true, i think he really prefer more cute than sexy girl kind of innocent vibe, aegyo and all like that, but more sociable than he

he natural shy, introvert and doesn't look like someone who would be active in relationships? he himself said that he doesn’t like it when he has to choose or decide something, so I think he would like a sweet, but despite this, a girl who can be active and take initiative? oh guys i’m sorry I just immediately imagine that type of girls in Korea, they look veeery very cute, but they rule their boyfriends with an iron hand hahaha not like a bad way but their boys listen to them well

overall he seems like someone who is easy to get along with but not so easy to get close to? like yeah, he'll be nice, but you won't be best friends right away. so I really see him in the friends-lovers trope, maybe even after a few years

yeonjun

oh that guy it’s opposite

I think he would, on the contrary, like a very bright, noticeable, socially active girl with sexy vibe

he’s himself very sociable and sometimes he can be a natural flirt? like he doesn't do it intentionally, but he literally communicates this way so I think he would like a girl who could accept it? I was in such a relationship and I really see him in something similar, like he doesn’t have the goal of offending or hurting his girlfriend with his behavior, but this happens every time and there are only two options, he’ll date a girl who will don't be jealous or it will hurt them both

however, he is very gentle in relationships, very caring and I think he would really do a lot for his partner

I would say he is one of the most caring members, he is always worried about their health, even that situation in one of the to do episodes when Kai fell from laughing from his chair and while everyone was laughing, yeonjun was the only one who stood up and holding kay’s head helping him rise up from the floor with the words “hey your head, head, be careful. everything is fine?"

beomgyu

ohhh guys i know he often has a reputation as a clown, but behind this he actually hides a lot

firstly we know that he is an introvert and all the members said that he usually sits at home alone and is not very active outside of filming and even in last live he said how much he likes be home and hate go outside

secondly, if you pay attention to how he seriously talks about relationships, about love, about partnership it’s always 🥺😭 boy is sooo soft and gentle plus how he treats taehyung…

this may sound obvious, but I think he would like a gentle, caring girl who would not let him doubt himself and their relationship

for him, it’s quite difficult for me to single out a specific type of girl or something like that, he would like a fairly ordinary (???) girl like not too sexy, not too cute, just someone with whom he had a real understanding, whom he could trust and confide

I thought for a long time whether have i including nsfw things and how you can see it’s not there, but I CAN’T be silent how much he has dirty mind pervert gamer boyfriend vibe (and THAT photo with anitta….)

so I think one of the important things in a relationship for him would be sex and matching with his partner in this question? because I'm sure he would like to try a lot...

taehyun

this guy has two distinct sides

sometimes he is super sweet, cute, he lets beomgyu do literally everything to him and can show affection himself

and sometimes he's very serious and collected, like he keeps everything under control and all that. he has a very manly vibe at this moment like with what voice and face he usually says 아빠 왔다 (daddy came) and even this phrase itself…. (I also study psychology and we could go over mean this phrase, but today we won’t)

I think in real life the second side is more inherent to him, but with close people, including in relationships, he is more open, so the first side appears more often

he didn't talk much about his preferences in girls, but he talks pretty serious about relationships in general so I think he’s not type to like one-night stands. I think he's a very reliable guy in a relationship, he's responsible I think he's the kind of guy who seems pretty cold and reserved in public but super cute when you're only together

in one of the old videos, all the guys except him answered that they would ask to go out their crash, can showing affection and say "i love you”, but he said “i’m just a coward, not a loser” and yes, it’s all what you have to know hahaha

idk is this still relevant for him, but it may well be, so I think that he would also be comfortable with a relationship that would grow from friendship so that he doesn’t have to confess first and everything happens naturally

huening kai

i don’t know he’s just so cute, romantic and gentle

he has mentioned more than once that he likes girls with short hair and because of this I’m a little vague about the image of a girl he would like i don’t know why, for me his ideal type is pretty obvious in character, but not in appearance

he is literally the king of untouchable among all the group members, even soobin said that it was very difficult to make friends with him and he literally overpowered him for several months until kai let him closer to him

soobin also mentioned that from time to time he tried to introduce him to his friends and other people, but Kai did not make friends with any of them. we can’t know why exactly this is happening, perhaps they were not interesting to him, perhaps he is embarrassed to communicate with strangers, perhaps he has high standards for friendship and many other reasons, but we can draw one conclusion, it is really difficult to get close to him

I think he would have liked a girl who was a little more persistent? not intrusive, but one that can be okay with the fact that he won’t open quickly

It's also known that he has some issues with accepting his appearance and would benefit from someone who knows how to support, praise at the right time and generally be gentle with him, this guy is literally the softest marshmallow pls love him😭

p.s. I would also be very interested to hear your opinion on this matter, maybe you have something to add?

[faulty-writes]

Maybe some headcanons where Bakugou, Tamaki, and Mirio are hit by a quirk that makes them behave mostly the opposite of themselves for a few days to a week.

Bakugou is kind and gentle towards the reader and so visibly in love. He's become quite the gentleman!

Tamaki is super energetic, extremely romantic, and declares his affections in front of at least his entire class.

And Mirio is so very, very gloomy but he's practically attached to the reader and says they're, "One of the precious few rays of light left in this gray, gray world."

[ I really like this request. Hah, personality changes are the best! ]

Katsuki's behavior shocked everyone, including you. Being his usual hot-headed self, he ended up in a quirk accident that changed his personality. When Mr. Aizawa assured you, the effects would be only temporary, you were grateful because Katsuki acting so…sweet, and gentle was just as frightful as when he was his usual self.

Normally, he would be protective of you, but now it's different. "Here, I don't want you to get wet," he said, holding the umbrella over you while he got soaked. "Nothing will happen to me, but someone like you shouldn't be caught out in the rain," he smiled sweetly at you while you trembled in response.

If someone talked to you in the wrong way, he'd pull you close and say, "Please don't speak that way to Y/n, they mean a lot to me, yeah?" Despite this, his loving gaze resembled his angry one and you tried to believe that the real Katsuki Bakugou was still somewhere inside him.

"Let's cuddle!" he would announce bluntly, no matter who was around. If you didn't respond fast enough, he'd pull you into his lap by force. He'd have his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

There was more thought put into your dates and he showed a greater interest in your hobbies. He would take you to your favorite restaurant or spend the evening in the dorm reading or watching a movie. He didn't get angry when others commented on how romantic or sappy he was, unlike before.

He could only react in anger when the effects of the quirk wore off and everyone shared the stories of what he did. "What the hell do you mean I did all that!?" He demanded, explosions sounding from his hands. It was only natural for you to smile because you missed the hotheaded Katsuki.

"Stay close to me, I love you so much…you're so kind and sweet and I can't bear to be apart from you!" To say Tamaki's reaction was surprising would be an understatement. It was like his hero persona times a thousand when he talked so bluntly about his affection for you. But his sudden personality change was credited to a quirk incident.

"I got these for you! They're so gorgeous, just like you. I…I just wanted to thank you for being my biggest fan and….love. I love you so much! I don't care who knows it!" He said after marching over to your desk in the morning and presenting you with the largest bouquet of flowers you had ever seen.

"Wow, another love letter for you! Guess this quirk accident brought out the more loving side of Amajiki, huh?" Nejire teased. It was clear she meant no harm, but Tamaki's love letters were beginning to get out of control. Since the incident, you must have found one to two in your locker every day.

During training exercises, it was normal for friends to cheer for you, but Tamaki took that to another level. The fact that he shouted your name enthusiastically and formed letters with his tentacles was endearing, but it was also distracting.

"Don't rub it off this time, okay!" He said, pressing a small kiss against your cheek. "I just want to kiss you forever!" he exclaimed trailing kisses across your reddened face. You hoped you wouldn't have to adjust to his lack of shame when it came to public affection.

"T-that's horrifying! W-why would I d-do all that!?" He squeaked out, hiding his face behind his hands as he appeared to be close to a panic attack. While part of you missed the proud and outspoken Tamaki, this version was the one you loved.

A quirk incident transformed Mirio into an emotional rollercoaster in a whole new way, and all the good parts of his personality vanished, leaving only doom and gloom behind.

As a result, he lost all his confidence and motivation, not to mention he questioned his purpose as a hero. "Don't get me wrong…having a quirk is great…but…my quirk is just so lame compared to others and if I don't have a cool, flashy quirk..then what's the point?" You wondered whether those were his real thoughts or if his mind was also thrown back to middle school.

"You're truly my only source of sunshine…the rest of this world is…dull and gray to me…" Mirio sought your company whenever and wherever he could, he didn't care if others were watching when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, almost as if he was trying to hide from the gray world he described.

As his self-confidence dwindled, he refused to attend class and skipped hero training. To your surprise, he began discussing new dreams unrelated to his previous lifelong dream of becoming a hero. These included exploring new interests and hobbies and you could only remain supportive.

"I can't stand this gloomy world without you. If you left…I don't know what I'd do…I'd just wither away," you assumed this was his way of expressing his gratitude that you hadn't abandoned him during the long week following the quirk accident.

"Hah! Wow, really? I can't believe that quirk accident made me think so negatively about becoming a hero and yes, my quirk may not be flashy but I can still save the world," he said after all the quirk effects wore off. Then he poked your nose and with a cheesy grin said, "Thanks for putting up with me! I totally owe you one!"

[ghouljams]

but witch having a bad day bc somethings upset her n wanting price? Like n she struggles so much bc she knows if she was scared or hurt she'd pull bc shed have to and he'd be happy to help her out but rn she just wants price, not needs him. And price would be so over the moon when he feels the most tentative tug on the tether.

Istg thats how they finally become closer, when witch starts calling him when she wants him not just needs him

God I'm so fucking feral for them, they want each other so badly but neither of them wants to say anything for fear of scaring the other away. Even Price's flirting is such a cleverly disguised misdirect of his feelings. What do you mean he's in love, no no he's just flirting because it's fun, he's just naturally charming like this. And Witch literally can't stop her care from bleeding through into her spells, everything she gives Price is such a declaration, but God forbid she say she likes him or she might burst into flame. Anyway, here's some fluff for them, lowkey inspire by this video

People always assume that magic makes everything easier, that if they had access to the power you do they'd never have another bad day. The reality of magic isn't quite so... magical. It makes life easier sure, but only if you've prepared for the bad days in advance. Even then it's balm on a wound, an extra dose of ibuprofen for a migraine, another chore to upkeep if you want it to do anything to soothe the ache.

You can chart all the sigils you want onto your skin, but it doesn't unburden the ache in your chest. Doesn't relieve the burgeoning sadness or the sticky fingers of anxiety. There's no good reason for the dark cloud over your head, your day was hectic but you've handled worse. It's your hormones making your usually warm house feel cold and cavernous, making everything feel bigger and more terrible than it actually is. They make you curl into the corner of your couch, lonely, as you tuck your knit blanket under your feet.

There was a time that being alone didn't bother you. You've spent most of your adult life alone, content with phone calls and the occasional visit from your loved ones. Now your thoughts hover around wanting someone nearby, wanting to be held and comforted with physicality instead of words. You can't ask anyone for that.

Well, you suppose you could. You know one person who would gladly give you that. The idea of calling him is more embarrassing than calling one of your friends. You can't ask Price over for something so small, so self indulgent. Besides, you'd so quickly brushed off his concern when you saw him this afternoon. You'd feel like a liar asking for him now when you could hardly spare him time between the day's appointments. That doesn't stop you from wanting him, as much as you chastise yourself for it.

Your fingers toy with the tethers the lay against your skin. They're so gentle, hardly a spider's strand to their weight, easy to ignore. It's silly feeling your heart clench just thinking of how easy it would be to call him here. He's likely busy. The world outside your front window is dark, it wouldn't be worth his effort to even knock on your door. Wanting is so pesky. Your magic feels muddled, responsive to your desires but caged by your self imposed limitations. You try to think of something that could replace the feeling of having Price around when your ears pop. You tug sharply at your tethers as you turn to see what your wards are decidedly not biting.

Price rolls his shoulders with a pleased groan, "There it is, barely felt the first one." You untangle your fingers and wipe them against your blanket, as if you could erase the evidence of your wanting. Price walks around the couch to sit on the side opposite you. He drops heavily onto the plush cushion, leaning against the back with a sigh. He looks tired. You feel worse for having called him, you weren't trying to.

"I didn't mean to call you," You tell him. Price hums, his eyes closed as he rests his head against the afghan thrown over the back cushions. Having a guest in your house makes you feel restless. "I'll put a kettle on," You unbundle yourself, and slip your feet back onto the floor.

"Sit," Price tells you, commands you, as you start to stand. Your butt hits the cushion again in record time, the after effects of foreign magic shaking your fingertips as you draw your feet up again. "What do you need?" He asks.

You sigh, try not to feel like a huge fucking burden for a man who's really been nothing but helpful and understanding to you previous requests. You prop your cheek against your hand, going for casual. You're not sure if you sell it. "Nothing," you lie.

As if he'd believe that. Not when he could feel the soft pangs of loneliness with each brush of your fingers through the tethers connecting you. Price watches you tug your knees up to your chest, feels the lingering want on his skin, the clutch of his heart at the gentle look in your eyes. You're truly a terrible liar. Even if he hadn't felt your desires, he'd know you wanted something. You hardly look at him.

What about what he wants then? Is it easier for you to blame him?

He wants to hold you, wants to comfort you in the way you seem so desperate for. Why shouldn't he? Feeling you pull for him had tipped the rest of the world off his plate, it's just you, you're all he needs. All he wants.

"C'mere sweethear'," He holds a hand out to you, feeling your gaze touch his fingers. Your hesitation betrays you. "Unless you want me comin' over there," Price warns. You jump to take his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as his hand grips your hair, your nose presses to his shoulder as you curl your legs to lean against him.

You smell like burnt magic, bitter and smokey. His hand digs under your shirt to rub your back, his lips insistent against your shoulder, your neck, your hair. You relax against him like unspooling thread, each muscle and line going slack in his hold. He can feel the crisp edges of whatever cage you sealed yourself in, his fingers starting to scratch at the dark swirls of it. You'll feel better if he pulls you out of it.

"Don't," You hum, your voice so sweet and tired, muffled against him.

"Not meant to keep everything cooped up love," Price reminds you. You make a quiet 'mmph' sound, arms starting to unwind from your tight grip on him. A threat you'll make good on if he isn't careful.

"Safer like this," You jerk a little closer when his blunt nails dig into the charcoal ink, the shiver of his attempts at breaking your magic making you feel electric. "Just hold me, please." You try a different approach. His fingers still, before every inch of his hold tightens on you.

"Thought you'd never ask," He mumbles. It feels like he can't get close enough to you, and after some maneuvering you're laying on top of him.

This you can do. You stretch out your legs, feel him shift underneath you, making sure you get as much contact with him as he can manage. Price bends his knee, the leg on the outside of the couch boxing you in carefully as you settle against his hip, your legs falling on either side of his thick thigh. He tugs a blanket over the both of you, keeping an arm around your shoulders. You forget sometimes, the way he dresses, that he is a well muscled man. You can feel the way each of them move and flex, the soft layer over them hardly disguising the raw strength that lays underneath.

You're safer like this, you think. Safer with him, always. Safe to want things without feeling like a burden. And even if you were a burden, he seems to say with a smile, I'd gladly carry it.

[ghostlychief]

So I read your simon riley “ghost” scary dog privileges, but may I present to you……the idea of simon being the most terrifying in combat but when he goes home it’s his wife you should fear more. Looking all sweet and innocent like she could never hurt a fly because she’s so tiny, and then they see the rbf and someone flips the bitch switch. Can be whatever scenario 👀 I just thought it would be funny because that’s exactly how it is with a friend of mine and his girlfriend 😂

HELLO! This is such a funny concept to me, so it was very fun to write! I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and thank you for your request!! <3

-Lee

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Counterpart

Oneshot; Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

wc: 932

warnings: none

--

The irony’s in life are assuming.

Because whatever force, god, or being, thought it would be funny for Simon Riley, aka “ghost,” aka one of the “scariest members of task force 141”, to finally meet his match, and fall in love with said match, were having too much fun with the precarities of his life.  

Ghost certainly has a reputation at the base, and in his world. His peers respect him, his enemies fear him (let’s be honest, his peers also fear him). He was an accomplished lieutenant, with many awards for all the brave, but terrifying work he accomplishes frequently. He earned his reputation. For the longest time, task force 141 was the most afraid of Ghost, that was, until they met you.

Everyone knows the saying that you never really find love, it finds you. For Ghost, love didn’t really find him, it more so smacked him upside the head.

You were completely removed from his world, something he was grateful for. You had a simple 9-5 job, with regular amounts of stress, but you were never in danger or putting your life on the line, something that eased Ghost’s mind when you guys first started dating. The contrast in your realities is what actually brought you closer together, finding solace within each other’s worlds that the other could not ever think to visit.

You offered him normalcy and calmness, something he only ever dreamed of obtaining. He offered you excitement and a sense of security. You always picked his brain about the technicalities of his job, always fascinated by the missions he goes on, and impressed with his combat abilities.

Besides your jobs being contrasts from one another, your personalities were also different. He was quiet, sure, and patient. You were more strong headed, impulsive, bursting with energy and assertiveness that left people intimidated of you. You guess that’s one thing you and Ghost had in common: intimidation.

You didn’t let anything slide, nor take shit from anyone, something that helped gain success throughout your academic years and the early days of your professional career.

You and Ghost made quite the pair.

When task force 141 found out Ghost had a girlfriend, they didn’t really know what to expect of you. They figured you must have had some thick skin to be able to date Ghost. However, they would never know, nor see the gentle side that Ghost practiced towards you. He was a giving, and gentle lover. Something you know is solely because of the devastating world he is subject to through his job. He wanted peace outside of work, and he provided you with a sense of that, and you did too.

The first time you met task force 141, they were shocked to find out that you were completely opposite of Ghost, both in personality and in physical features. He towered over you at his whomping height of 6’4, you barley reached his shoulders. While he held a gaze of indifference, yours was stern, eyebrows naturally furrowed, and a permanent scowl was left on your lips, until you smiled or started talking.

To put it simply, they felt a little uneasy at first, and it solidified when you opened your mouth.

“What? Are you all just going to stand there and gawk at me, or introduce yourselves?” With your hands on your hips, and a slight tilt to your head you managed to intimidate the squad 141, even though you were the least threatening person in the room, physically. Ghost snickered next to you as he watched his teammates take the blow of your statement, your presence filled up the room. Their wide-open mouths shut instantly, and they all lined up to introduce themselves. You found it hard to hide your smirk.

After your first meet and greet with the team, you found yourself spending more time with them, with Ghost of course. You would occasionally meet them at a bar for a round of drinks, or go out to dinner. Though they got more comfortable around you, you never failed to surprise them with your demeanor. Always demanding, that people respect you, specifically men.

One night you all were at the bar, celebrating the end of the week. You got a phone call from a colleague, something you didn’t appreciate on a Friday night. However, you knew it had something to do with your client, and it wasn’t your teammates fault for having to call you this late.

You took the call regardless, and the team hushed when they heard your conversation. “I don’t care what the client said. They gave us a deadline for next week, and the fact that they’re requesting the report today, a Friday night, is laughable. Tell them either accept the fact that the report will be delivered to them next week, or tell them to find someone else to do all their work for them.”

You abruptly ended the call with a sigh, and you noticed the silence around the table. The men tried to act like they were just all sipping their drinks with no thought, but you knew they were listening to your call.

“This client always tries to push up deadlines, even though in our contracts, we state the official deadline. Official, as in, cannot be changed. They’re just a bunch of idiots who think they can push me and my team around because I’m a woman leading this project.”

With a shrug, you say, “I have to stand up for myself and my team.”

Task force 141 wasn’t going to argue with that one.

--

hope you enjoyed! <3

[6lostgirl6]

Can you do an headcanon about Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Yandere Will Graham x Reader,please? (Poly relationship)

Yandere!Hannigram HCs

TW: yandere-trope, kidnapping, forced-cannibalism, Stockholm Syndrome 

Mentioned previously in Will’s yandere headcanons, he would feel extremely guilty about the obsessive feelings and dark thoughts he had of you. 

Hannibal is quit the opposite, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he feels and doesn’t mind doing anything he can to make sure they had you. 

Therefore, Hannibal would heavily influence Will and encourage his obsession. Will’s guilty conscious would practically melt away quicker than if he wasn’t in a relationship with Hannibal already.

Telling him that it was natural and keeping the one you love locked away is simply because you want to make sure they were safe.

And there's nothing wrong with wanting your loved ones saved, correct?

With Will taking pictures of you while stalking you and Hannibal keeping notes about you, they basically make their own little (y/n) scrapbook.

They would team up when it's finally time to kidnap you and bring you to their home.

Hannibal is not afraid man-handling you if things went south. If you struggled or fought against them, he would quickly take you down.

Will still feels guilty of the bruise you had on your head. He hates having you hurt, especially when it's caused by him and his husband.

Hannibal's love languages are gift giving and quality time but that doesn't mean that he cannot be affectionate.

Even though Will is the most affectionate between the two, however, Hannibal is more subtle about it.

Lingering touches and quick forehead kisses are Hannibal's way of displaying affection.

Will would feel horrible about giving you punishments when you try slipping away.

Therefore, Hannibal would be the one in charge of disciplining you properly.

Most of them would be spankings and no, he is not gentle about it.

Will would definitely comfort you afterward while Hannibal would leave the two of you alone to make dinner.

Will would pull you close and whisper softly in your ear, stroking your hair while you sobbed into his shoulder.

Speaking of which, you will be following Hannibal's diet.

Will has gotten used to it already by this time, but he didn't want you traumatized by you seeing Hannibal cook.

Therefore, you are not allowed in the kitchen until everything is done.

Hannibal wouldn't tell you that you were consuming human flesh.

He's smart and knows that you would be more than freaked out if you found out the hard way.

However, he wouldnt deny it if you began to grow suspicious.

After being in captivity for almost a year, you have finally developed Stockholm Syndrome.

Hannibal and Will would be thrilled when you finally began returning their love.

However, Hannibal would know that it's simply because you have nobody else to be around and you were simply adapting to your situation.

He wouldn’t like it that you weren't naturally and truly in love with them but he would make do.

Will wouldn’t care.

They finally have your love and that's something he wouldn't waste.

Taglist: comment if you'd like to be added!!

@patient1666074 @rottent33th @slaasherslut

[tarjapearce]

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 4)

Ranchero AU! Miguel x f! Reader

WARNINGS: clasism, Telenovela level Drama, fluff.

Summary: Against all odds, a new life starts ahead with Miguel.

Intro:

Ever since Miguel had came into your life, it felt like a new perspective of how to truly live was revealed to you. He was a simple yet hardworking man. He was everything you weren't. An opposite really.

He had his temper, he knew hardwork possibly from a young age, he knew patience, he knew how to enjoy the little things and appreciate them. He enjoyed his life, his work. Enjoyed you.

Contrary to him, you were sometimes spoiled, Luis your horse was the proof, you were treated like a porcelain doll and not allowed to do hard work, possibly getting too comfortable in the fact that you'd always have what you currently did, you were a socialité, an expensive doll according to some rejected marriage prospects, that if you wished you could get a whole stable full of horses within days.

And of course, the Pastor's daughter. You were immaculate, pure and a perfect soon to be wife. You didn't know hardships, the only outstanding thing that made you "different" was your good aim at shooting. Your ex fiancé, a man from another wealthy family, was the one that taught you that out of boredom. He was the only most exciting thing that had happened in your life so far.

Till Miguel came.

He had swooped off your feet, showed and taught you so many things you were good at, but none really had taken their time to teach you. Not that he minded you being a spoiled princess, like some workers called you behind your back. You liked animals, being around them, but your ever perfect mother was always prying you from that. From anything that involved looking imperfect really.

Ah your mother.

The natural enemy of everything Miguel rendered. Perfectionist, shallow, clasist, oh but never racist. Like if that feature alone saved her from the rest of her twisted virtues. She took her role as a socialité seriously, more than you ever did. Parties were the only sort of meaningful thing you had, you could have fun, be yourself for a bit and forget about being the Pastor's daughter and setting the example within your circle, as usual.

Not that you minded, God and church had always played a huge part of your life ever since you had conscience. But in reality, you never really meddled too much in it, it was just for the sake of pretense.

Pretension, that's what your life really was about.

Friends weren't really friends, just acquaintances that you stumbled upon often, playing their part in the game of conceit. Just approaching you when they needed something, like everyone really. Your father was always busy, more married to church than your own mother. You didn't know if your mother resented it, neither cared.

All you could think was how this tall, tanned, strong, mulish, resolute, terse of a man was gentle, loving, unabashedly in love and oh so hot and bothered for you. You still couldn't quite believe that he was in love. At first you thought it was a game, something to just get his spite out from the constant implicit belittling your mom and sometimes your dad partook in.

But the way he held you, the way he looked at you, kissed you, touched you, made love to you, had proved you wrong. He knew what he wanted out of life.

"Solo imagínate, Cerecita. Tú, yo, una gran finca, muchos animales e hijos." (Just Imagine, Cerecita. You, me, a large estate, lots of animals and kids.)

He used to dream about it during pillow talk. You'd lie on his chest while he talked about his dreams, and the very thought would make you giggle and kick your feet.

Miguel was a certified farm manager. After all, you parents estate produced pure breed horses, foods like cheeses, milk and seeds.

You knew how to manage the food area since, your mother though it suited you more, instead of having back breaking and skin burnt jobs like the men. But once you entered the mid twenties, your 'work' turned strictly executive. Helping your parents with the office automation of the whole management.

So far a good job, but you knew it was only a deceit to make you look more suitable for those that showed the littlest of interest in you. Sometimes you felt your parents were offering your hand in marriage to anyone with enough money on their pockets.

Although their steadfast resolution to get you a good husband never died, you didn't want any strangers and play date with them. You wanted Miguel.

He had treated you like a normal person, not like a China doll, not someone fragile. He taught you things that you didn't even know you could do. You were good at gardening, feeding the animals, small little tasks that people around you had denied or thought you too dumb to do.

He had expanded your prospect of just being a trophy wife. You were always learning from him, but soon, harvest season and renovations around the farm started and you saw him led  You also had your own share of work.

Work that somehow had made your stress levels to rise so high that your period had been delayed. You still wished that you could repeat the last session you had in his room in the barn weeks ago. The mere though of his display of prowess in bed had made you clench.

No other man could compare him really. You sometimes daydreamed about having more time alone with him, talking about your fears and hopes, everything that made you both who you were.

But a hurling wave of nauseas shot through your system as you rushed to your bathroom, emptiying your stomach's content down the toilet. And still no sign of your period.

---

You thought that avoiding certain foods would actually make the sickness that sat heavily on your stomach to go away, but it had only turned worse. You'd have these spasms of nausea through the day. And your suspicions only grew one day that one of your friends had gotten an apple pie nearby you. The smell so pungent to your senses that made you retch a little while after.

"Migraines for the strongest smells are the worst" one of them commented, trying to not pry too much on the obvious. It wasn't the time to prey on gossip.

------

You had woken up nauseous and queasy, for the third time in a row, at this point your mother was concerned. Had something made you sick? Food poisoning?

Of course the kitchen staff would hear a mouthful of her concern. She was stricter regarding the way your foods were made. Unavoidable realization hit harder than your mother swatting your head when you ogled at Miguel a second too longer.

Swallowing hard after retching in the bathroom again, the moment you smelled your morning soup, filled your eyes with tears.

How could you not notice? How could've you be so stupid? Sure stress had made you sometimes cause an anomaly in your cycle, and you though it was the case, but seeing the two positive parallel lines on the pregnancy test, only made your eyes turn glossier and wet.

You were pregnant.

Almost two months and counting. You barely had the chance of seeing Miguel anymore. Oh, Miguel. What would he think of it? Would he be mad? Sure you were his girl, but nothing else had been spoken further. Would he still want you?

God, you were so scared. You knew how your parents thought of him, and for all you knew, they still thought you were pure, immaculate, a good example to every lady in the little town.

They'll find out.

Of course they would. Sooner or later they'd find out. Probably kick him out and you'd be forced to marry a guy that looked like him to make pass the child as his. Right?

No. Your parents wouldn't be that bad. Nah, knowing how your father had done so many shotgun weddings because of sinful pregnancies told you that everything was possible. They were none to be underestimated. The thought scared you shitless, so you washed your mouth, bathed, got dressed and went to him.

The more you approached the antsier you got. He was talking to another helper, the talks of a new mare being brought spreaded through fast in the estate. However upon noticing you, he cut the conversation short and came to you. Like a magnet.

His smile faltered when your whole frame came into view, solemn look, and red nose by the constant sniffling.

"Hey, hey. Come here. ¿Qué le pasa a mi chula?" (What's wrong, gorgeous?)

You whimpered and buried your face in his chest. He held you tightly.

"It's fine, yeah? Wanna talk about it?"

You clung to him.

"You mom got you on another date?" He rolled his eyes and you shook your head with a shaky sob.

"Your dad tried to sell Luis again?" Another shake of your head.

"Then what is it? You gotta tell me, princesa."

He cupped your face gently and wiped your tears.

"I..." You hiccuped, "I think I'm pregnant."

You could feel him tense and he made you look at him directly. A glint in his eyes shining brighter than when he was popping your cherry.

"¿Voy a ser papá?" (Am I gonna be a dad?)

He questioned with a excited yet strained voice. You just stared at him and he kissed you, deeply.��

"¡Me vas a hacer papá!" (You're making me a dad!)

His hands shook you softly. He could stop marveling at the fact that finally one of his dreams were coming true. But you seemed off, shut off to his joy.

"Why... Why are you crying? You don't... want it?

" No, no. It's not that, Miguel. I'm... scared. I'm so scared" You sniffed and he kissed your forehead.

"Dad will kill you."

He chuckled and nodded

"Might as well chase me down with a gun." His hand was placed on your lower belly.

"He might kick you out and..." You hiccuped and he just held you with a smile.

" Ps, que me eche. And if... things get bad, you'll come with me. Okay?" He squeezed you tightly and grunted happily, "Dios te vas a ver preciosa con esa panza toda grandota y redonda. Te voy a cuidar, vas a ser mi reina. Ya vas a ver."

(He can do that.) (God, you'll look gorgeous with that big and round belly. Imma take care of you, you'll be my queen. You'll see.)

He just kept rambling things you couldn't understand, but seeing him overjoyed made your aching heart to relax.

"I'll talk to him. I... Le voy a pedir tu mano." (Imma ask him your hand in marriage)

"W-What? are you sure of it?"

"You thought I was kidding when I told you that I wanted you for myself?"

His eyes softened

"I might not have much, or give you this kind of life you're so used to, yet, but... You have me. I want this with you." The steadfastness in his words made your heart leap and flutter.

"What if he says no?"

"You're coming with me anyways. Can't leave my future wife here knowing what they are capable of."

"God help us. Mom will be...-"

"Don't worry your pretty head over it."

"I do worry. She's... you know how she is. And what he thinks of you."

"Eso es lo de menos." (That's the least of my concerns)

"How far are you?"

"Seven weeks."

He cradled you. Arms full of love and devotion.

"They're coming back tomorrow"

"I know. Pack whatever you think is worth packing, and try to rest."

He slept with a smile on his face that night.

-----

"Papa?" You knocked and he called you in. Miguel awaited outside the office. To your surprise your mother was with him, discussing something. Mid day sun hid behind heavy dark clouds.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I... eh. Wanna talk to you both."

"Oh?"

"You alright, Mija?"

You nodded and sighed.

"You know how... you are always talking about me getting married, serving in church and the like, right?"

"Of course dear. We wouldn't want it other way."

Your mother gasped as excitement crossed her features

"You... You want to get married?! Oh dear.! I thought I ever hear that from you! I was growing concerned, really. Thought that... farm boy had done something to you."

"Mom-"

"I know he is wicked!"

"Let her speak. Don't take inspiration from her." your dad grumbled and the nausea crept up to you. Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but you were already here and see this through.

"What kind of man you both envision for me?"

"A hardworking one, that fears God, that treats you like we have, spoils you, that he knows your worth."

Ironically they had described most of Miguel's traits.

"Someone who knows that you aren't cheap. That isn't afraid of investing on you like you deserve"

Someone wealthy, of course that's what your mom would say.

"What about someone different?" Your hands fiddled nervously as your eye casted down.

"Different how, sweetie? You deserve better. Not different."

"Maybe I do want different, Papa"

Your name was chided as he looked at you with sternness.

"Different how?"

Sighing you stood and motioned for Miguel to approach. Your parents face fell instantly as he crossed the door.

"W-What is this?" You mother mumbled with a gasp as you sat with Miguel across your parents, entwining your fingers together.

"You're always saying that... You want a hard working man for me, right?"

"Yes, but not him." your dad nearly hissed through gritted teeth, "Do you know how many others are waiting for you to just look their way?"

Miguel chuckled and removed his hat.

"Too bad for them" You grumbled.

"Sir, suegrito, with all due respect your daughter-" (Father in law)

"Jesus Christ... How can you be so condescending?! Know your place!" Your mother shrieked.

Miguel's eye twitched slowly but remained shut.

"You think you can give her what we have? What could possibly a man such as yourself could provide her?"

"More than all those pretty boys that parade around but are useless for working, that's for sure."

"We'll too bad, cause she's already settled for another date!"

"I don't want another of your dates, mom."

"What did you just say to me, little brat?!"

"That I don't want dates! They're boring, they always talk about money and they're so shallow! I have enough of that kind of people"

Your mother prayed as your father rubbed his face in frustration.

"Like... You're always saying how you want the best for me, how you want a hardworking man for me. Miguel is that. He just... he is so smart and has given me a chance to try things I have never done before! I am good at things you said I wasn't! He... he loves me."

His grip on your hand tightened for a bit, reassuringly despite your mother's mocking cackling.

" He loves you?! Cariño... He's only been here for six months and you think this... man, loves you? Don't be ridiculous. He just wants your money. You think I don't know people like him?!"

Your eyes were slowly drooping and blurring with angry tears.

"Evidently not, cause if you gave him a chance to-"

"Never. You are not staying with him. Look at you, sweetie. You are pretty, you are young! Rich! You can have anyone you want"

"If that's so, won't you let me have him then?"

"This is just another of your whims. You're dragging him to this." You dad gestured to Miguel.

"It's not! I'm old enough to make my own choices-"

"And what could you possibly know about life?"

"Certainly more than you actually think. And I would've known more if all this time you wouldn't have treated me like I was fragile and stupid! I wanna be more than just... a stupid trophy wife"

"What would be the difference with him?"

"That he actually teaches me how to work, dad. I know I am pretty, but that won't take me far. Beauty fades, but... knowledge in life is something you earn, that you shape. And Miguel has helped me realize that. That's why I love him."

"You don't love none-"

"Don't project on me, mom."

Her dolled up eyes widened in disbelief at your words.

"You brat!"

"Look at you. Is this what he has taught you as well? To disrespect your mother?"

"Oh please! Don't talk about respect when even you at times give him a bad time unnecessarily. Look at what he has done so far! Look at Agustín! None wanted to be near him and you even wanted to sacrifice him cause you couldn't handle him!"

"This conversation is getting tiring."

Your stomach bubbled.

"I will marry him. With or without your blessing."

"No. You won't cause you will marry a decent man! Not this... This..."

"Say it" Miguel growled as his arms crossed. He'd do things his way anyways. He was just being civil and respectful enough about the whole thing.

"A Nobody" His fist clenched.

"Stop." You stood in between them, "Stop." your tone warning.

"Or what? Just imagine the scandal!! You are shaming us! What would the people say?!"

"Shame us? Are you serious right now? You deserve to be shamed! You profess about God and his love at your church and how much we gotta love eachother yet you treat people like shit. You specially mom."

A slap. Hard, burning in your face.

Shock plastered in your crying face, Miguel stood and prowled your way, your mother recoiled at him approaching.

"See? You can't teach me about love cause you love none!" Miguel held you in his arms as you tried to get to your mom.

"Take all the money from me if you want, but I refuse to marry someone for the money like you did. I refuse to be like you and this loveless marriage you have!"

Now it was his turn to try and stop your mother getting at you. Your dad shot in the air, startling everyone in the room. The rushed steps of people outside scattered around. Even the staff could hear everything that was happening.

"Don't touch me!" She pried herself away from him.

All the emotions made your head spin, Miguel pushed gently your mother away to hold your careening form before you could actually collapse.

"Cerecita!" You held onto him, then held your mouth. You guided him to your dad's office bathroom to just spill the contents of your upset stomach.

"Dios mío..." The annoying voice that always belittled him broke, realizing what was going on right away.

"No... No no. You... You couldn't. Why?!"

Your mother shrieked in horror. So many emotions were going through your father's face. Disappointment and a silent rage. The latter aimed at Miguel.

"¡Ya cállese, señora!" (Just shut up already) Miguel roared and your mother stood frozen in the spot. Too angry and stunned to actually do something.

Miguel helped to clean up after yourself, then you stood, facing your parents. You had expected them opposing, but not this bad. Not like this.

"Are you okay?" His eyes softened as he cupped your cheeks with concern. You just nodded, still feeling weak.

"I'll marry him. And that's not up to discussion. And I will do it, with or without your blessing. Understood?"

"Since you are making your own decisions now, I'll have to ask you to pack your things and leave tomorrow morning with your... man. You want to get married? So be it. You see... When you are going to venture in these sort of things, a house on your own its the first thing you must have.-"

"Don't worry about that, Patrón." Miguel's voice laced with venom, "It might not be like this pompous state, but at least it's mine. And none shall ever disrespect her or me again."

"You're fired."

Miguel smirked

"I expect my complete payment in my account then. Wouldn't like to return for a check."

You were taken to your room by some of the staff. As they prepared you something to eat. Your mother, Rosaura, was long gone from the scene.

"Too bad you're too stuck up to actually see that I did try and make the right thing with your daughter. I might not be what you wanted for her, but... I am what she wants and that's more than enough for me, sir." Miguel's voice only matched the steely glare your father made his way.

"Don't expect to see your grandchild."

"Don't worry. That wretched child is none of my concern"

"No le escupa al cielo, suegrito." (Don't spit to the sky)

His tone a warning as he tipped his hat and left.

-------

Morning came and some people of the staff were helping you pack things, Pastor William refused to wed you. Rosaura had barely showed up, just gave you a quick despising glare.

"You're really leaving miss?"

"Yeah. I can't stay here."

"Wouldn't that be harmful for the baby?"

You shook your head.

"It'll hurt more if I stay."

"We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you guys too. Thanks for... teaching me so much."

Your dad was a silent spectator, Miguel helped to put your things in his old truck. There was a genuine smile on your face everytime you looked at your future husband. William could've married you, but of course he was petty. For once your words had marked him.

It wasn't easy for Miguel either, Agustín seemed restless that day.

"I'll come for my horse later." You spoke as you gave the last suitcase at Miguel. William just gave you a dismissing nod.

Words were stuck in his mouth. He had never seen you this determined towards something. A sudden change he truly wasn't used to. Changes didn't sit well at all to him.

You didn't look back, instead just got in the car with Miguel and left. Leaving everything you knew behind. the thrill of a new adventure buzzing through your body. Miguel took your hand and kissed it with a puppy love eyes.

"Let's get married, Cerecita."

----

Taglist:

@thebettybook @allysunny @v4leoftears @brooklynscherry-z @lovingarcardeprincess @pinkiemme @bigbassbug @ceoofmiguel @loonalockley @nine-of-cherries @saph-cyare @mintqueenjo @arrozleche

Sorry if I forgot someone 😅