#its so hard to explain but she looks at you and treats you like youre dirt on the bottom of her shoe

[aroacesigma]

i cant take thi anymore i genuinelly cannot why the fuck am i living with someone this awful why cant i have a sister who treats people like fucking people

[noemilivv]

What the…

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …

PARTNERS !! (and before that!)

Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute

Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread

Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!

Charlie Morningstar

Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…

Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.

Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc

Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.

She believes that it has its perks, which it does.

Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.

But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …

Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!

You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!

Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.

Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.

You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.

And yes, you do feel the same.

Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.

GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!

GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.

At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.

But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)

GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!

On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things

But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha

At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol

Vaggie

When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?

Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.

Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.

The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her

Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.

So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.

When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!

Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!

GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)

You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha

At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.

Angel Dust

Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.

But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?

Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.

Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…

One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!

And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…

Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?

And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.

“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.

The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.

“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”

The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!

Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.

BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!

And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.

Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.

And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.

Alastor

When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.

He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.

Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.

He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.

Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!

So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.

BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.

But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.

If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.

But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.

By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.

BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.

And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.

Sir Pentious

Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.

But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.

You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.

This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.

Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.

“Pen.”

“I like you too.”

“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”

Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…

Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!

BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!

So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?

BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!

BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!

Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!

Husker

Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.

Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?

You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.

It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”

And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.

So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”

And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!

BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.

BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.

He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.

‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.

Niffty

Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.

Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.

So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.

GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.

She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.

Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.

Lucifer Morningstar

Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.

You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.

Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.

Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.

BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.

BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.

BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.

If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.

Adam

Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…

Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).

During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…

Hey hot babe,

wanna do more than just fuck? (date)

And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.

BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.

I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!

At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)

Lute

Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.

And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.

Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.

But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.

And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.

GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)

Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!

— END.

Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! First i loved the reader + cannibal works you did.

Second, you could write small or big idk pieces of reader and him having their bond and seeing others react to it. It would be funny to see some of them go "excusme this not high blood claimed CANNIBAL?"

And Cannibal just there like "its my human, shut up before i eat you"

Also, HC that Cannibal would totally take the reader to a different place since he finds the rest of humans so 🙄🙄🙄🙄 and 100% sure he was touched when reader bowed to him :,)

Cannibal will always be my favourite dragon, Balerion coming a close second but come on! A dragon who never had a rider cuz no one was worthy?! Imagine the history you’d make when claiming this absolute unit!

You wouldn’t say that you claimed Cannibal like most people have assumed, if anything you’d describe what you and the behemoth mad was more of a connection, a bond that went deeper then that of dragon and rider. It was rather difficult thing to explain to people because the only people who would understand had a hard time themselves coming to terms with the fact that someone without a single trace of Valyrian blood in their body had accomplished what many could not; claim Cannibal.

You truly believed that everyone had the ability to be a dragon rider but the unfortunate reality was that half of them ever would was incredibly rare. So for those that were dragon riders, it was the highest honour imaginable and you were now one of them!

Your bond with Cannibal was unlike any other, it was almost as if this spark, this fire, connecting the two of you to a point where you didn’t know when you began and where Cannibal ended. You could sense Cannibal’s distrust for all humans, especially those who had Valyrian blood running through their veins no matter how small it may be, he hated them all as equally as he did the other humans. With you however Cannibal harboured a deep possessiveness over you. You were his rider after all and he didn’t like it when people like Aemond, Daemond or Rhaenyra got anywhere within distance of you and would blow fire at them without an ounce of hesitation.

‘Cannibal.’ You hissed after Cannibal tried to roast Rhaenyra alive for merely touching your arm in congratulations. The dragon only kept his piercing green eyes on the silver haired woman in red next to you, looking at her with hostility and contempt.

‘It is..quite alright my dear.’ Rhaenyra tried to console you but the daggers your dragon was driving into her back was enough for her to take a step back, she had the blood of the dragon and therefore didn’t fear them but Cannibal was a dragon of unpredictability and therefore must be treated with caution. ‘No harm done.’ She flashes you a smile before departing back to the castle. You sighed before looking at your behemoth of a dragon whose eyes dilated upon seeing you finally pay attention to him, his tail wagging slightly behind him.

‘You are more than your worth sometimes.’ You murmur as you scratched his head before swiftly mounting him as he flew you both off of DragonStone and elsewhere where you wouldn’t be disturbed, but you couldn’t help but thank moments like those that were just for yourself and your dragon as you do tend to get tired of getting asked the same shit ten times over. Yet you swore you had claimed an antisocial cat instead of a dragon whose whole reputation was eating dragons, humans and dragon eggs alike. This was merely one example of how possessive Cannibal got, it was far worse when it was a man like Aemond, then that’s when Cannibal became far more hostile than usual.

For the moment the dragon saw the one eyed prince approach you, his tail immediately shielded you from view while roaring at the prince to fuck off back to his fossil of a dragon, huffing smoke from his nostrils and baring his teeth. ‘I’m going to call you Cannibal the cat if you keep this up.’ You told the dragon as you moved from behind his tail to greet Aemond, who was looking at Cannibal with an unreadable expression. ‘Fascinating.’ He muttered softly as he looked at you.

‘What is?’ You asked.

‘The fact that the first person to ever claim Cannibal is someone with no Valyrian blood nor ancestry to speak of.’ Aemond replied and you couldn’t help but scowl at this, feeling as though this was meant to be some sort of dig at you, but then again the joke was on him because he wasn’t the only one to ride with a dragon of legend anymore.

‘Can you blame me? I don’t rest dragons like their weapons to be used to threaten people in bending the knee.’ You spat back. ‘Sounds to me like you are compensating for the fact that you would’ve been viewed just like any other house in Westeros had it not been for the very Dragons you ride, and yet here you are, treating them as though their disposable while pondering why it maybe that their dying out.’ You added, staring Aemond down as his jaw twitched, you had struck a nerve but all you did in response to that was shrug your shoulders. ‘Sounds a bit hypocritical dont you think my prince?’

‘You know nothing of the word.’ Aemond said lowly as he stepped towards you, only to be greeted by Cannibal’s shadow looming over you both, lowering his head to glare at Aemond from behind you while you looked directly at the prince; unbothered and calm by the whole thing.

‘I wouldn’t but I’m sure your bloodline is more familiar with the misuse and treatment of Dragons than I am.’ You said, feeling no fear with Cannibal having your back, literally, as you looked back at your companion with a smile. ‘Let’s us go somewhere else Cannibal, I fear we may have overstayed our welcome.’ Cannibal only made a sound akin to that of purring and taking that as your que to bid Aemond farewell and mounted Cannibal once more and left.

You had Cannibal’s back and you knew he had yours as well and that’s what you prided your connection on, never had you ever known a more peaceful nights sleep, not until Cannibal draped a protective wing over you to keep you warm during those nights where you just wanted to stay beside your dragon as you cuddled into his warm scaly belly. Your heart and his were one and you feared that without Cannibal, you’d loose apart of yourself forever and you’d treasure every moment you had with your dragon, no matter what may come for either of you in the future.

Now for some character reactions;

Aegon shits himself. Enough said. He will not go near you especially if Cannibal was constantly on the verge of wanting to eat him whole.

He doesn’t care of how you claimed him like others would, he’s terrified of Cannibal and doesn’t want to stay for long enough than he had to, he’s not about that life despite the family he’s reluctantly born into.

Aemond on the other hand was intrigued on how you managed to do such a thing, it was feet unheard of and yet you did it and without being eaten on top of that.

He also would view this as something that was predestined by fate or something like that. You and him being the riders of the largest dragons left alive in Westeros, imagine the destructive force the pair of you would be if you were to be wed to one another. It’s a thought that hasn’t left his mind since the day you claimed Cannibal and while the bitterness of your words stung him, that didn’t mean he wasn’t about to put an end to his dreams of you and him flying together on Vhagar and Cannibal in happy union.

He’s delusional but a dangerous kind, so Cannibal is always on high alert with him.

Otto would try pull out all the stops and arrange a marriage between you and Aemond, feeding into his grandsons dangerous delusions, claiming that you were only this way to see whether or not he would love you at your most stubborn. Besides what’s greater than having one large dragon on your side? Two large dragons!

So Otto doesn’t care about how you claimed cannibal but only the benefits for the greens of you doing so would be enough to have Rhaenyra’s forced yield and pledge for Aegon or die fighting, either way works out for the greens in the end but all he needed to do was get you with Aemond.

Rhaenyra found you claiming Cannibal to be a once in a life time miracle as it wasn’t often that a dragon was claimed by someone who wasn’t a descent of Old Valyria. For you had to be truly something for a dragon as stubborn and dangerous as Cannibal to agree to be yours and knows of the target that you have placed on your back by doing so.

To put it simply, she wants you on her side of the war when the time comes as a last resort should she need you in her most dire of times. You and Cannibal had a connection unlike any other she has ever seen and that makes you an essential asset that everyone will want. She wanted to get to you before the greens do and will try her hardest but it would take some time considering how on guard Cannibal is to anyone who wasn’t you.

He knew what she was doing but with time she hoped that you would get Cannibal to understand because if she nor the greens couldn’t get to you, then there would be another level of uncertainty in knowing that a nomad dragon rider and their dragon were taking to the skies with leisure. You and Cannibal were a lot more dangerous than you may think and that’s what scared her the most; you not understand the power you now hold with cannibal at your beck and call.

Jacaerys thought that someone who wasn’t of Valyrian decent couldn’t claim a dragon nearly as successfully as those of Valyrian descent could. However you managed to defy all expectations that were previously set and proven that the impossible could be possible through the right circumstances.

He had so many questions on how you did it but Cannibal would always stop him and take you away before he could. He had read stories about cannibal and knew better then to hop on Vermax and chase after you, and so he would just allow his mind to ponder on how it was that you managed to claim Cannibal without being consumed.

He too feared the eyes that you have no attracted to yourself by doing such a thing and would try his best to protect you no matter what but Cannibal was proving it very difficult to get close to you without fire being out at him. However Jace was determined to make sure that no harm came to you, even if he had to do so from afar.

[capquinn]

I really want fries as a finishing the week treat but it’s so cold out and I’m too lazy to get them. But I was thinking about Quinn and pregnant reader in that situation. Quinn would give her that 🫤 look and sigh after she’s been going on and on about her pregnancy craving and no matter the weather or time of night he always goes out to get it or find the closest thing to it. He’s such a softie and drops everything to do anything for her

It starts off innocently enough — just a passing comment as you're cooking dinner.

You’re standing at the stove, stirring a pot of soup, when you spot the empty pickle jar on the counter. The sight of it stops you mid-stir, an ache blooming in your chest that you hadn’t even realised was there. The sharp tang of vinegar was just a memory now, thanks to Quinn, who had polished off the last one earlier. You stared at the jar for a long moment, then inhaled deeply as if to steel yourself, catching the faint scent of peanut butter still lingering in the air from his afternoon snack.

“We’re out of pickles,” you announce, the words coming out sharper than you’d intended.

Quinn doesn’t even look up from where he’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone.

“We’re going grocery shopping tomorrow,” he replies casually, like it’s no big deal. “We’ll grab some more then.”

You nod, swallowing down the disappointment. Of course, it’s fine. Quinn already does so much for you — too much, honestly. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up in the middle of the night to rub your back, doesn’t bat an eye when you cry over commercials. The least you can do is manage a craving for one night.

But by the time the soup bowls are empty and the dishes are drying in the rack, the craving is no longer something you can brush aside. It’s no longer just pickles. It’s pickles and peanut butter. Crunchy peanut butter, specifically, the kind you already have in the pantry. And the thought of it — salty and tangy and just a little sweet — is like a loop stuck in your brain. You can feel it growing, blooming into an obsession you can’t shake no matter how hard you try.

So you finally bring it up as you’re both clearing the table.

“You know, pickles and peanut butter would taste so good right now,” you say, hoping maybe speaking it out loud will get it out of your system.

Quinn pauses, plate in hand, and gives you a skeptical glance. “Pickles and peanut butter? Together?”

You nod, setting down the glasses you’ve just picked up from the table. “Yeah. Like, on the same spoon. Or maybe a pickle dipped in peanut butter,” you add, tilting your head thoughtfully.

He squints at you like you’ve just suggested something completely alien. “You don’t even like pickles.”

“I know,” you say, exasperated, “but it’s a pregnancy craving. I can’t explain it.”

Quinn smirks, a playful glint in his eye. “So, the baby’s got you craving… that?”

“Apparently,” you say with a shrug, trying to sound casual, though you can feel the craving getting worse now that you’ve spoken it into existence.

It comes up again later as you sit cross-legged on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while Quinn flips through TV channels.

“Pickles and peanut butter,” you murmur under your breath, almost to yourself and from the corner of your eye, you catch Quinn’s side-eye, his brow quirking as he lowers the remote slightly.

“You’re still thinking about that?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement, though there’s a hint of skepticism, like maybe he’s hoping this craving had run its course.

You glance up, shrugging as you bite your lip.

“Yeah,” you admit, and then, add quickly, “but it’s fine. I can wait until tomorrow.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you for a beat, and you can feel the weight of it. He’s studying you, half waiting for you to crack and half trying to decide if he needs to intervene now or risk hearing about pickles and peanut butter in his sleep.

“You sure?” he says finally, his tone light, but there’s something else beneath it — like he knows you’re holding back.

“Positive,” you say, nodding firmly.

And for a while, you convince yourself that it's true. That you're completely, utterly and positively sure that you can wait until tomorrow.

So you curl up under the blanket with Quinn, his arm draped loosely over your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm — a quiet, familiar rhythm that usually soothes you without fail. The TV hums softly in the background, and his chest rises and falls against your side, steady and warm. It should be enough.

But it’s not.

The thought of that perfect salty-sweet combination gnaws at you, persistent and unrelenting. You try to distract yourself, to focus on the show Quinn seems semi-invested in, but every passing second feels like the craving is growing claws, digging deeper into your resolve.

You take a deep breath, glancing up at him. His profile is soft in the glow of the TV, his expression relaxed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he absently strokes your shoulder. He’s content, comfortable. You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do.

Almost.

“Before I say something,” you start, your voice tentative, measured, the prelude to what you know is a plea, “just remember that I’m carrying your baby.”

Quinn doesn’t even blink. His lips quirk into a small smile, his thumb pausing mid-circle on your arm.

“Our baby,” he corrects gently, his tone warm, teasing, like he knows exactly where this is going. Of course he knows. He always knows.

You hesitate for a beat, building up your courage before blurting, “I’m really, really craving pickles and peanut butter.”

His head falls back against the couch, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he drags a hand down his face.

“Baby,” he says, his voice full of mock exasperation, “it’s pouring outside. You said it could wait until tomorrow.”

“I thought it could,” you insist, sitting up straighter, as if that’ll help your case. “But I’ve been thinking about it since dinner, Quinn. I don’t think I can sleep until I have it.”

He looks at you, his brows furrowing just enough to show he’s debating his options, though you both know there’s only one.

“I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate,” you tack on, your tone earnest as if that might tip the scales further in your favor.

Quinn exhales a long, dramatic sigh, one that would almost sound convincing if not for the way his lips twitch at the edges, betraying the affection underneath. There’s no real frustration in him — just the soft resignation of someone entirely smitten, hopelessly incapable of saying no.

“You haven’t even asked me anything yet,” he points out, tilting his head as he meets your gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a flicker of amusement he’s trying not to show.

It’s infuriatingly endearing.

“Will you please go get pickles?” you ask, your tone so sweet, so endearingly earnest, that he doesn’t stand a chance.

That gets him.

His lips twitch, fighting off a grin, as he pushes himself to his feet, stretching with a dramatic groan.

“The things I do for you,” he mutters under his breath, the corners of his mouth betraying the tease.

He disappears down the hall, and you hear the faint shuffle of a jacket being pulled off a hook, the jangle of keys being found. When he returns, he’s already slipping his arms into the sleeves, his shoulders settling with the kind of resigned acceptance that says he knows this is his life now — and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He moves toward the door, stooping to pull on his sneakers, the drizzle outside faintly tapping against the windows. Just as he’s tying the laces, he glances back over his shoulder, one brow quirking in that playful, knowing way that makes your heart squeeze.

“Anything else while I’m out?” he asks, his tone warm and teasing, like he’s already resorted to a grocery list. “Ice cream? Chocolate syrup? A gallon of peanut butter to get us through the next week?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you peek over the back of the couch.

“Just the pickles. And maybe… the good kind?” You ask innocently, like maybe you’re asking for too much at this late hour.

Quinn groans, a sound full of exaggerated exasperation, but the grin tugging at his lips gives him away.

“The good kind,” he repeats, his tone dripping with mock seriousness, like the words themselves are some great inconvenience. “I’ll see what I can do.”

But there’s no hiding the fondness in his eyes as he steps closer, moving behind the sofa. He plants his hands on the cushions, leaning over until his face is just above yours. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin with a quiet kind of devotion. Then, he presses a kiss to your temple, lingering just long enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the steady comfort of his presence.

“You owe me for this,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to that warm, teasing tone that makes your heart flip.

You tilt your head toward him, grinning as you meet his gaze, your affection spilling over. “I’m giving you a baby, Quinn.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes like he’s indulging some monumental injustice. But the way his lips twitch, the faint curve of a smile tugging at the corners, gives him away.

“Yeah, you are,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a gesture so instinctive, so achingly gentle, it makes your chest tighten.

There’s a flicker in his eyes of pure adoration that doesn’t even try to hide. It’s the kind of look that says a thousand things he never could — about how much he loves you, how much this life you’re building together means to him, how he’d cross any distance, brave any storm, just to see you smile.

And then he huffs, a soft sound somewhere between affection and surrender, before leaning down further, his breath warm against your skin. His lips brush against yours, soft and deliberate, the kind of kiss that’s all tenderness and quiet longing. It lingers, unhurried, his hand cupping your cheek as if to keep you right there, as though this moment is his anchor before he steps out into the cold.

“Be right back.”

[eva-does-its-best]

Going from "I'm not one of those trans people who do x or y" to "I am so one of those and I should have not judged them and I am glad that I got rid of the normative judgemental attitude I used to have".

Going from "I'm just a lesbian so liking trans men is wrong i don't want to deny their manhood" to "My sexuality is weird and that is fine, I like who I like despite the theoretical implications of it and I am not denying anyone's identity because I like them for who they are and respect them no matter what".

Going from "I'm just a regular binary she/her woman" to "I'm a girl and a woman but my dissociation and life experiences also make me feel impersonal so I can use it/its and I'm not weird for it, i wouldn't even be weird if I had no justification either, I can even use doll pronouns because I like them and they make me feel warm and happy and that is what matters".

Going from "Ok so these are all the labels with their very clear definitions and meanings and everything else is internet quirky stuff" to "I literally would not know how to explain what you are and I won't force you to explain it if you don't want, I don't need to understand it to accept you, you are valid and loved. If you instead want to explain it to me I'll do my best to learn and defend it whenever I can".

Going from "I am so sad, frustrated, angry and in pain because I will never be or look cis" to "I actually don't like the cis normative look, I don't want to cispass, I like trans beauty but specifically I like me beauty, the one where I am still myself but a more me version of myself. The world constantly told me what I should aspire to be and look like and like and I was brainwashed for so long but now I've broken free and am free to fully love myself and everyone else in this world who ever thought they were weird or ugly because my eyes find so much beauty in everything and everyone!"

Going from "Ew furries" to "I don't want to make fun of people who deviate from the norm because that is exactly what happens to me and we should all be together or else we are treating ourselves as exceptions and exceptions are easily revoked, I will learn to love everyone against a brain poisoned with conservativism and "normality". I like rats I should make a rat fursona or smth it would be so cute it'd so represent me :3".

Going from "I am useless, lazy, falling behind, a disappointment" to "I am physically and mentally disabled, there have never been accomodations for me in any aspect of my life and the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, economical situation, etc. have made my life extremely difficult, I forgive myself for both failing and for blaming myself, I will seek help and advocate for myself to the best of my abilities and I will respect my limits in this world that was not made for people like me".

Learning is hard, changing is scary, but it's mostly just your brain being a conservative for the sake of commodity, safety and self-preservation, sometimes you need to fight your brain in a war of attrition but when you finally win you'll be so much happier.

I am so much happier now, my world is bigger and brighter and I see everyone and everything with a new, beautiful light. I look back on how I was and how I thought and how the world works and it all looks so much worse and grey, I am not going back there, this new mind is my home now.

And the best part is that I know I will keep learning more and changing more and the world and this life will keep getting better and better🥰.

[stylesispunk]

"You're the loss of my life"

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part 2 here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers.

w.c: 5k>

Warnings: angst, implications of cheating, mentions miscarriage. Perhaps some grammar mistakes because no proofreading oops!

a/n: I know everything I write is angst but is what it fits in my mind right now. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The day you killed yourself, you woke up. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why. 

You didn't want to talk, even less to answer the pitiful comments from people who thought they had a say on all this.

You remember the fall. You remember Joel running to Sophie to save her life instead of yours, instead of both. You and the baby who was inside you. The one who wasn't there anymore because of its tiny form didn't resist the impact of your fall.

What a tragedy.

Sadness overcame you in the aftermath. In a world like this, treating your wounded body wasn't as hard as treating your heart, which became a frozen glass shell.

The days that followed were a blur, each moment blending into the next, a never-ending cycle of grief and numbness. You avoided mirrors, hating the reflection of a person you no longer recognized. The hollow eyes, the lifeless expression—they belonged to a ghost, not to you.

Joel tried to talk to you, his words a constant hum in the background. "I'm sorry," he'd say. "I didn't know what to do." But his apologies were meaningless, lost in the chasm that had formed between you. He perhaps saved Sophie because he loved her more, because in that split second, she was the one who mattered.

Not you anymore.

You spent hours in the nursery, the room you had so carefully prepared. The crib, the tiny clothes, the stuffed animals—all mocking reminders of what could have been. Your hands would linger on the soft blankets, tears falling silently onto the fabric. It was in that room that you felt the closest to the baby you had lost—a place where the field of dreams you had died.

One night, as you sat in the dark, the pain was too much to bear, and you decided you couldn't go on. The world was too cruel, too indifferent to people's suffering. You wrote a letter, your final words, to those who might wonder why. It was brief—just a few sentences explaining the unbearable weight of your grief and the unending ache in your heart. Meeting your family and beloved ones in heaven sounded better than keeping yourself prisoner in a world that would never be a safe place for anyone.

You took the pills, each one a step closer to peace. As you drifted off, you felt a strange sense of calm, a release from the torment that had consumed you. You hoped that in death, you would find the solace that eluded you in life.

But then you woke up again. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why.

Waking up again felt like a cruel joke. You were back in the same world, with the same pain. But something was different. Joel was there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He took your hand, his touch hesitant and afraid.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The wound was still too fresh, and the betrayal was still too raw to face them.

Joel's gaze burned in your back, and the smell of death was in the room. You held your breath for a moment. You wanted to smell the flowers and the baby smell of the little head of your baby, which you would never get to meet.

"Why?" he questioned, and for the first time, his voice did soothe your wounds; instead, it caused your blood to boil inside you and irritated you.

"I want Ellie here, not you."

"Baby- “

"Go." Your voice could slice Joel’s skin.

He recoiled as if struck, his face crumpling with pain. He stood there for a moment, looking lost and broken. "Please, don't push me away," he pleaded, but you couldn't hear him through the rage and grief that consumed you.

"Leave," you repeated, your voice cold and final.

Joel's shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating, a void that threatened to swallow you whole. You curled into a ball, the tears flowing freely now—a torrent of pain and loss.

“Go to Sophie,” you whispered to the void, allowing yourself to cry.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment; your sobs were the only sound in the quiet room. You didn't know how long you lay there, but eventually, you heard a soft knock on the door.

Ellie's voice was hesitant when she called out your name, filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can I come in?"

You didn't answer, but she opened the door anyway, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She looked at you, her expression torn between fury and sadness.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you try to leave me too?"

You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and mirroring your own. "I... I didn't think I could handle it anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I lost everything, Ellie. I lost you, I lost Joel, and I lost the baby. I didn't know how to go on."

Ellie walked over to you, her steps hesitant. "You didn't lose me. I'm still here," she said, her voice softening. "But you almost did. And I'm so mad at Joel. He should have saved you both. He should have done more."

“Do you think Joel doesn’t love me anymore?” you sobbed.  The pain in your voice broke Ellie’s heart.

She kneeled beside you, taking your hands in hers. "I don’t know what’s on his mind now," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I do know he loves you. He's just... broken too. We're all broken."

You pulled her into a tight embrace, both of you crying together, sharing the weight of your grief. “I lost my baby because of him.”

Ellie held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours. "Cry,” she said softly. "Blaming him won't bring the baby back. It won't help us heal. We have to find a way to forgive and move forward."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, finding strange solace in each other’s arms. The pain was still there, raw and overwhelming.

You were standing in the small kitchen of your home in Jackson, the dilapidated walls a far cry from the security of the life you once knew. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to dream of something better. Your hands trembled slightly as you held the small, worn piece of paper—a positive pregnancy test, a symbol of new life in a world consumed by death.

Joel walked in, weary from a long day of patrol. His eyes lit up when he saw you, but they quickly clouded with concern as he noticed the look on your face.

"What's going on?" he asked, setting down his backpack and walking over to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, I have something to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Joel's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to something darker—fear and maybe even anger.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "In this world? How could you be so irresponsible?"

The words hit you like a physical blow, your earlier excitement and hope crumbling into dust. "Irresponsible?" you echoed, your own voice rising defensively. "It takes two people to do this, you know.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know what it’s like out there! Every day is a fight for survival. We can barely keep ourselves alive, and now you want to bring a baby into this?”

“I know this is not the best way, but what do you want me to do?” 

“You know what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought them back, unwilling to show weakness at his suggestion. "I know it's dangerous, Joel. But it's also a chance for us to have a future. To have a reason to keep going."

Joel's face softened for a moment, but then the hard lines returned. "And what if we can't protect it? What if we lose it? Bringing a baby into this world... it's a death sentence."

You turned away, unable to look at him. "I thought you'd be happy," you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. "I thought this would be something good for us."

He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, but the damage was done. "I just... I can't see how this can work."

You clutched the pregnancy test to your chest, tainted by doubt and fear. “Are you mad because of the baby, or what would Sophie think of this?" you questioned quietly.

Joel's expression faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. The mention of Sophie seemed to strike a chord, bringing a new layer of tension to the room.

"Sophie has nothing to do with this," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

"Doesn't she?" You pressed, your voice rising. "She's always in the back of your mind, Joel. Every decision you make, every risk you take, it's always about protecting her."

"She's my partner in patrol,” he shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m just as protective as I am with everyone here! I can't fail her, or you. But this world... it's no place for a child."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know you're scared, Joel. So am I. But we can't live our lives in fear. This baby is a chance for us to have something real, something good. Don't you see that?"

Joel's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I do see it," he admitted quietly. "But it doesn't change the reality we live in. I just... I don't know if I can take that risk."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. You turned away from him, your heart heavy with a mixture of hope and despair. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect this baby," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "With or without you."

Joel looked at you, pain and conflict warring in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, shaking his head. He turned and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, your heart breaking as the small symbol of hope in your hand seemed to grow heavier by the second.

The “I do” and vows seemed so foreign in the back of your mind now.

A week had passed since your almost-death. The days were a blur of grief and small steps toward recovery. Ellie remained close; her presence was a constant reminder that there was still something worth fighting for. In your head, you felt guilt and pity, not strong enough to keep believing you were the same woman who arrived here. You were the gosh of a lively fighter who became a lifeless frame.

Maria approached you in the cafeteria, where you were trying to busy yourself. She had always been a pillar of strength in Jackson and a calming presence for you since the day you, Joel, and Ellie arrived.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle. "How are you holding up?"

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. Maria sighed, pulling up a chair beside you. "I know it's hard. But you need to take things slow. You can't rush healing."

You nodded, though her words felt distant. The weight of your grief was a constant presence, making everything seem surreal. "I just... I don't know how to keep going. I don’t know how to do this again," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as Sarah’s lifeless frame came to your mind.

You had lost another child.

Maria reached out, squeezing your hand. "One day at a time," she said. "And remember, it's okay to lean on others. You don't have to do this alone."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain was too fresh and overwhelming. As the days turned into a week, you forced yourself to go through the motions, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. One afternoon, you found yourself in the cafeteria of Jackson. The noise and bustle were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Maria was there, talking to a few people, and she caught your eye, giving you an encouraging smile. You tried to smile back, but it felt forced. The weight of your loss was a constant shadow, making everything seem heavier.

As you moved through the line, Maria came over, her expression concerned. "Hey, remember what I said. Take it slow. You don't have to do everything at once."

Something inside you snapped. The pressure, the grief, the guilt—it all came crashing down. "Take it slow?" you repeated, your voice rising. "How am I supposed to take it slow when everything is falling apart? How am I supposed to keep going when I not only lost my baby but also my husband?!”

The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes turning towards you. You could feel the weight of their stares, the shock, and the pity. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as the enormity of your outburst sank in.

Maria reached out, but you recoiled, your emotions spiraling out of control. "I don't need to take it slow!" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "I need... I need..." You didn't even know what you needed; the pain was too overwhelming to articulate.

Joel was there in an instant, his face etched with worry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, reaching out to you. "It's okay. You're okay."

But you weren't okay. You felt like you were drowning, the weight of your grief pulling you under. You shook your head, backing away from him. "Don't touch me for fuck's sake! I don't want your dirty hands on me!”

Joel’s eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the best of the man you had married ten years ago.

Joel's eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the ghost of the man you had married ten years ago.

He froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. The cafeteria's silence deepened, the tension thickening. You saw the pain in his eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil, but it did nothing to quell the anger and sorrow boiling inside you.

"I can't do this," you said, your voice breaking as you took a step back, your chest heaving with sobs. "I can't keep pretending that everything is going to be okay. Because it's not! Nothing is okay!"

Ellie pushed through the crowd, her face pale but determined. "Mom," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We're here. We're all here. We'll get through this."

Joel looked helplessly at Ellie, then back at you. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just let us help."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your rock, now just a shadow of the person you had relied on. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but Ellie’s presence brought a flicker of something else—a reminder of why you needed to keep fighting.

Ellie wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder. The room remained silent; the weight of your grief was palpable. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that you weren’t alone and that you had people who loved you and who were willing to help you carry the burden.

Joel stepped closer, his hand hovering uncertainly at your back, not daring to touch you without permission. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "For everything. I’m so, so sorry."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You killed him," you snapped, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I can’t forgive you.”

Joel's face crumpled, the weight of your words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. The silence in the room grew heavier, and the tension was palpable.

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I know I can never undo what I've done. I live with that guilt every day."

Your anger burned hot and fierce, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. "You killed him," you repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And you expect me to just forgive you? To move on like nothing happened?"

Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "No," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. But I want to try. I want to make things right as much as I can."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your partner, your confidant, now a stranger in the wreckage of your shattered life. The anger still burned hot within you, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—pain, sorrow, and a desperate longing for the life you had lost.

"I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength to forgive you."

Ellie's arms remained wrapped around you, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. She gently guided you away from the cafeteria, her touch reassuring as you stumbled through the hallways of Jackson. The weight of your grief felt heavier with each step, but Ellie's presence gave you a glimmer of strength.

As you reached the door, Ellie helped you inside, guiding you to the small couch in the living area. She sat beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

Ellie reached out, taking your hand in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I promise."

You squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She leaned in, wrapping you in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom," she said softly. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you hugged her back, her words echoing in your mind. "I love you too, Ellie," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

As you and Ellie held each other close, the weight of her love and support was a balm to your wounded soul. But amidst the embrace, a knock on the door interrupted the moment, causing both of you to startle.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with concern. "Should I... Should I get that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

You shook your head, wiping away your tears as you tried to compose yourself. "No, it's okay," you said, your voice still shaky. "I'll go."

Ellie nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the couch. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said softly, giving you a lingering look before leaving the living area.

As Ellie disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With trembling hands, you made your way to the door and opened it, revealing Joel standing on the other side.

His expression was a mix of worry and remorse as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, the memories of your outburst in the cafeteria still fresh in your mind. But despite the anger and pain, there was a part of you that longed for closure, for a chance to understand.

"Okay," you said finally, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel entered the house, his footsteps hesitant as he crossed the threshold. The living room felt suffocatingly small as you both stood there, the weight of your shared grief hanging heavy in the air.

"I... I don't even know where to start," Joel said, his voice strained with emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I just... I need to understand," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to know why you did what you did."

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of the city. You and Joel had been scavenging for supplies, your footsteps echoing in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the world.

You had felt uneasy all day, a knot of jealousy and insecurity twisting in your stomach at the sight of Sophie, her laughter ringing in your ears like a taunt.

You had implored Joel to come. You just wanted to feel as worthy and important to him as you used to, even in your state. But despite your misgivings, you had pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable and worthy of Joel's love and attention.

And then it happened.

If Joel had been more careful, he wouldn’t have allowed you to come. But he didn’t want to make you feel worthless.

A horde of infected had descended upon you, their snarls and growls a chilling symphony of death and despair. You had frozen; your mind was unable to comprehend the danger until it was too late.

But Joel had acted, his movements swift and sure as he pulled you away from the oncoming onslaught, his grip firm and unyielding.

And then he had seen her.

Sophie was trapped beneath the rubble, her screams echoing in the chaos as the infected closed in, their hunger insatiable.

And in that moment, something inside Joel shifted.

He had hesitated, torn between saving you and saving her, his eyes flickering with indecision, before he made his choice.

He had chosen Sophie.

He jumped off the horse, leaving you alone. You had watched in horror as he raced towards her, leaving you behind, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces as the truth of his betrayal washed over you like a tidal wave.

You had screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of the chaos, your tears mingling with the blood and dust that coated your skin.

And then the world went dark.

You fell from the horse, hitting the cobblestones hard. The pain was sharp and intense, searing through your body like a white-hot flame. You could hear the distant sound of screams and growls, the world around you spinning in a haze of confusion and agony.

Through the haze, you could dimly make out Joel's voice, calling out your name in desperation. But his words felt distant, a mere echo in the darkness that threatened to consume you.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on you like a weight. You tried to move, to call out, but your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your world went black.

"I need to know why, Joel," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you choose her over us? Why did you leave me behind?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you waited for his answer, the weight of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, a wound that refused to heal.

Joel's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his guilt. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I panicked. I made a mistake."

Anger surged within you at his words, a fiery rage that threatened to consume you. "A mistake?" you repeated, your voice rising with indignation. "You left me to die, Joel. You left our child to die. How could you call that a mistake?"

Joel flinched at your words, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. You were my wife; I should.”

"Were you my wife?” You sobbed, “Since when is that in the past, Joel?”

Joel's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, his admission of guilt and regret piercing through the veil of anger and pain that enveloped you. But amidst the turmoil, there was a flicker of something else—a longing for understanding, for closure, for a chance to heal.

"You are my wife," Joel repeated clearly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. But I failed. I failed both of you."

His words stirred something deep within you—a wellspring of grief and longing that threatened to overwhelm you. "And now?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "What am I to you, Joel?"

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. Not uttering a word.

“Do you have feelings for Sophie?” You asked, fear creeping to your bones, not wanting to hear the answer.

Joel's silence spoke volumes; his hesitation was a weighty presence in the air between you. You held your breath, afraid of what his answer might be and of the truth that lay hidden in the depths of his gaze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his words heavy with uncertainty. "

“You love her,” you stated. “That’s why you chose her.”

Joel's silence in response to your accusation only confirmed your worst fears, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a heavy ache in your chest. The truth hung in the air, stark and undeniable, like a shadow cast by the setting sun.

Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to process the betrayal, the pain of Joel's admission cutting through you like a knife. The realization that he might love Sophie and might have chosen her over you and your unborn child was a blow that threatened to shatter you completely.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely more than a broken plea. "I can't stay here, knowing... knowing that I'll never be enough for you. Living in a world like this is already hell, but you made it even worse. You made me feel disgusted by myself, worthless, and ashamed," you shouted. "You're a fucking coward."

Joel flinched at your words, the truth of your accusations cutting through him like a knife. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, might try to defend himself, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Hate me; I'll wait. Until you forgive," he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your pain. "Forgive you?" you chuckled bitterly. "I won't."

There are two types of grievances. The one who met the spirits in death and the one who met with the ghosts of someone who should have died in front of you. You still couldn't comprehend which one was worse. Both were painful, and both watered your eyes. But having the ghost of someone who brought you warm, freezing your aura while slipping from your grasp, leaving you crying to yourself till your head tired up and there wasn't anything left that fell into the voiceless world of sleeping, where in your dreams, you were still the same woman in the white dress, marrying the love of your life.

"I needed my husband! I need him now! And the worst thing is, I still need you, but you're just a fucking phantom."

"I'm still here," he exclaimed.

"No, you're not.".

"It wasn't even born!" Joel said.

The silence met souls leaving the lovers's bodies.

You were left speechless, tears ricocheting. Your heart was clenched in pain, and your throat felt like it was being torn apart by a monster.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," you spat. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt so much that you couldn't even feel it beating anymore. "Sorry if grieving my baby was such a burden to you."

As you turned back to face Joel, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the gaping chasm of loss that lay between you.

"Let me remind you of something, Joel," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Losing Sarah was the worst thing that happened to us, and just imagine how it is for me to know I carried her and this baby just to lose them both."

Joel's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his features as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"I'll move out," Joel said suddenly, his voice tinged with resignation. "So you can bring your new lover here and make all the babies you want."

His words cut through you like a knife, a painful reminder of the irreparable rift that had formed between you. "You know what really broke me?" you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "You... you're the biggest loss of my life, but as much as I love you, I despise you the same. You're the loss of my life I will be yours. There's no way back from this, Joel."

As the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, you reached for the wedding band adorning your finger, a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable but now lay shattered at your feet.

With trembling hands, you removed the ring, feeling its weight in your palm as you stared at it, the memories of happier times flashing before your eyes like a cruel mockery of the present.

Without a second thought, you flung the ring towards Joel, watching as it spun through the air before landing at his feet with a soft thud.

"There," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "Take it. Take everything that remains of us."

Joel looked down at the ring, his expression unreadable as he reached out to pick it up and his fingers trembling as he held it in his palm.

"I don't want this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stared at him, the pain of his betrayal a raw wound that refused to heal. "I don't want it either," you said, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. "But it's all we have left."

And with that, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his presence any longer. The wounds he had inflicted upon you ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.

[prettiedup]

gojo and fucking his babygirl till she cant walk since she keeps stomping off when she has an attitude

satoru has noticed that you’ve changed. while you’re still his sweet girl, your attitude has gotten worse and worse. it really only comes out when he says something that you hadn't anticipated on hearing. 

after a long exhausting day of being the school’s golden boy and being recorded and having to talk rehearsed lines (‘perks’ of the gojo family funding a sufficient amount towards the school) it was all over. much to his luck, the frat house was completely void when he finally came home一well almost. you were sitting on the L shaped couch, waiting for him like an obedient puppy. he does little to hide his smile when he sees you jump to your feet once you realize he’s home. 

“hi, toru!” you’re smiling so hard and your arms are wrapping around him before he has the chance to fully respond.

“hey, babygirl.” he allows you to hug him. he pats the top of your head while basking in how comforting the interaction feels. “how’d you get here?” he asks. he remembers vividly dropping you off at your section of your dorm two nights ago.

“suguru dropped me off.” the smile quickly washes off of his face. a displeased scowl substitutes the once there smile. 

“i thought i told you to stay away from him?” not only did he tell you to stay away from suguru, but sukuna, choso, and mahito too. it’s not like he didn’t trust you, it’s them who he didn’t trust. innocent, naive, good girls; you’re their type. they would possibly do you even worse than how satoru treats you, and he knows that. that’s why he strives so hard to keep you separated from his friend group.

“he came up t’me, toru.” you explain. “‘nd i told him that i wanted t’see you ‘nd he told me that you were busy but he could drop me off here ‘nd i wait in your room until you came back.” 

even though your explanation seems logical and realistic, he still didn’t want the two of you to interact. no matter the circumstances. he lets out a frustrated groan. he’s too tired to lecture you. he’ll talk your words with a  grain of salt this time. 

“c’mon, baby. ‘m tired.” even with the two of you traveling a short distance upstairs and into his room, you still hold his hand. he doesn’t fight you on it, opting to allow you to do whatever keeps you satisfied.

you sit happily on the edge of the bed while satoru begins stripping out of his clothes. you’re shameless as you take peeks at his body, when did his little shy girl grow so confident?

“uhmm toru, while we were in the car suguru told me about the party that’s happening this saturday.” you comment. your words are hesitant as you bring up the new topic.

“yeah, ryomen is throwin’ it this time.” he nods his head mindlessly. he’s pulling out clothes through his drawers, searching for his plaid pajama pants that aren't folded and tucked in its usual spot.

“he invited me to go.” you squeak out.

satoru chuckles at your admission. “‘m gonna be busy this weekend, so..” he trails off.

“who’s gonna take me to the party then?” you ask in worry.

“no one. ‘cus you’re not going.” satoru pauses his rummaging to look at you. the expression on your face is almost comical. a mixture of shock and confusion is displayed.

“uh-huh, toru. i already told him i’d come.” you say in retaliation.

satoru makes a mental note to address suguru inviting you places without his agreement. usually, satoru usually doesn’t care when suguru offers to the girls he sleeps with, but you’re different.

"you're not going."

“...yes i am.” 

“no you’re not.” satoru replies, sarcasm is etched into his tone and he’s looking at you as if you have three heads.

“why not?!” your voice is rising and you jump up from your spot on his bed. you look up at him with a frown as you question him.

“cause ‘m not gonna be there.” he says it as though it is the clearest thing in the world.

“why does that matter, toru? i can handle goin’ alone.” you’re now defensive and upset. satoru can tell from your tone that you’re about to throw a tantrum and can only sigh as he prepares for the inevitable. 

“‘m not allowin’ you to go to a party thrown by sukuna alone.” he contradicts. 

“toruuuu.” you whine. “you’re being unfair!”

“am i?” he laughs.

you huff and whine some more. satoru ignores your whines, continuing to scavenge for his pants. the pile of clothes on the floor is growing increasingly larger and his drawers are growing bare.

“where the fuck is it?” he says aloud, his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. 

you stop whining once you realize he’s ignoring you. frustration grows throughout your body as you look up at him with a scowl. you had grown used to satoru caving in quickly and to see him withstanding your antics absolutely enraged you.

“you’re so一stupid! i hate you!” you scream. you stomp towards the closed bedroom door while continuing to utter insults at him. 

there goes the new attitude, the loud yelling, the stomping, the insults. you’ve only done it twice before and satoru has had to put you in your place both times, this time is no different.

before you could even twist the knob, you feel a strong hand grasp the back of your neck. a sharp breath manages to escape your throat when you’re suddenly yanked backwards. it feels like your world is spinning when your back suddenly hits the mattress. 

satoru is quick to climb on top of you, his legs slot on either side of your body. 

there are angry tears pouring from your fierce eyes that soften up once you see the stern expression on his face. 

“t-to-”

“shut up.” he’s pulling your dress up to your stomach and shuffling to move to the side of you. he forces your legs open, his crystal blue eyes take notice of the way your panties hug your pussy. he could see a small wet spot seeping through your panties. he roughly yanks your panties down to your  ankles.

“t-toruuu..” you mewl. you know whats about to happen next and you try to brace yourself. 

the wind is almost knocked out of your chest when you feel his rough palm slap down onto your pussy. you flinch and kick your legs out of reflex. you squirm to move away from him which only makes him use his other hand to grab you by your throat. 

“fuckin’. rude. girl.” with every word, he’s slapping your pussy. loud screams escape out of your mouth, you try to shut your legs so that he couldn’t have any more access, satoru huffs out a breath and forcefully opens your legs back up. 

“stop.” his voice is deepened and the solidity is hard to disobey.

you could do nothing but lay there and take the slappings. every time his hand would strike down onto your pussy you would flinch and let out a weak moan. 

“of course you’d start moanin’.” he tuts. he moves from his position and stands at the edge of the bed. he grips your panties that are hanging loosely around your ankles and throws them elsewhere on the bed. he grabs you by your thighs and scoots you until your ass is hanging off the edge.

“i was jus mad, daddy, i didn’t mean anything i said.” you sniffle as you watch his cockhead rub against the entrance of your throbbing pussy.

“jus’ mad, huh?” he mumbles. he rubs his through your wetness for a few moments before sliding inside of you. on a regular day, he would’ve prepped you and made sure you were prepared enough for him to sink his lengthy cock into you. but its hard to be kind to you when you act like such a fucking brat.

“mhmm, d-daddy. was jus’ mad.” there are still tears lingering in your eyes that satoru ignores. “i don’t hate you, daddy.” you add on.

“‘s too late to apologize, babygirl. you know what happens when you act up like that.” 

you bite down on your lip while looking at him with a look of confliction. “‘m sorry.” you whimper. “are you一really mad at me or just a little?” 

“absolutely pissed, babygirl.” he says before snaking his hand back to your neck. he slams your head down onto the mattress and squeezes. 

his hips snaps into you, your wetness is already getting all over his cock and heavy balls <3. from his slapping, you feel sensitive, way more than usual. loud struggling mewls escape from your mouth as his hips speed up.

he keeps his hand around your neck but stops squeezing once his other hand goes to cover both your mouth and nose. “you’ve said enough today, babydoll. shut. the. fuck. up.” with every word, he grinds his cock deeper into your pussy. 

“rude little girl. gonna show you what happens t’girls who piss their daddy off.” he promises.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

——————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (7) II a.putellas

filling the void masterlist filling the void (7) II a.putellas

"te quiero mucho mi fresa, tanto tanto tanto hermana."

"i love you too, can i breathe now please?" you wheezed out with a little difficulty, exhaling as alexia let go of you and wiped the corners of her eyes with the pad of her thumb.

"tan blandito." you teased with a soft smile, your sister rolling her eyes and pushing you gently. "can i ask you something else?" you braced yourself but nodded, having hoped this little heart to heart might be over so the pair of you could move forward.

"mariona-" alexia started as you sighed, cutting her off. "mami told me that she already told you and alba what happened with her. ale i really do not want to explain it again, no i don't know why it happened, yes it hurt, yes i probably should have seen it coming but that was my first real relationship. well, i thought it was anyway." you mumbled, chest tightening at the memory of the humiliation, cheeks burning red and the laughter of those you'd considered peers and friends ringing in your ears.

you were brought back to earth by a hand on your shoulder, looking up to meet your sisters concerned frown. "no hermana. i was just going to ask, does she still live in the same house?"

~

"is this really a good idea? you are a public figure around barcelona alexia and you are the captain of the spanish national football team if we get caught-" you whispered as your sister waved off your concerns and shushed you.

"we will not get caught fresa relajarse, and that pendejo mariona has it coming." alexia mumbled, hand tightening around the carton of eggs in her grip.

"ale this really feels like a bad plan." you chewed on your bottom lip, the two of you camped out in some bushes awaiting the last light in the house to go off before you launched your attack.

"you said you and mapi egged that other puta's house, sí? well she got what was coming to her and now its marionas turn. nobody messes with a putellas hermana." alexia whispered poking your shoulder and turning her focus toward the house again.

you regretted telling her about that now, having recounted the story of how you'd gone to mapi after the humiliation of the fake relationship and the girl had seen red, packing you into her car and driving the pair of you to the store and then your ex 'girlfriends' house.

luckily she'd been away on vacation with her family for a couple of weeks and the two of you had both egged and tee pee'd her house entirely undetected.

but of course having heard this story alexia was drowned in a sea of guilt that you hadn't felt like you could come to her, though grateful you'd at least had mapi in her place and hadn't had to go through it alone.

so swallowing the bubbling jealousy at the fact and reminding after all it had been her fault that you'd not felt like you could go to her in the first place, this seemed to be how she was determined to make up for it.

"we've done this before alexia and it didn't go well!" you reminded, grabbing her arm before she could leap out of her hiding spot, eyes wide with worry as your sister sighed, the memory fresh in both your minds.

you'd been only ten years old, alexia twenty three and alba twenty. alba had just been cheated on by her latest girlfriend, a fact you hadn't quite fully understood but you knew she was upset and alexia was ropeable.

it had been a common theme throughout the years that you'd never really liked any of alba's partners, which was perhaps alexia's influence given she'd been vocal that she always felt alba settled for girls who didn't deserve her or treat her as such.

but this particular girl alba had fallen head over heels for hard and fast and learning that she'd not been loyal, crushed her more than she cared to admit but it was easy enough for both you and alexia to see just how much she was hurting.

"fresa despertarse. hermana. fresa!" you blinked as you awoke, groggily wiping your eyes and exhaling, vision adjusting to the dark to notice your eldest sister hovering over you.

"qué?" you mumbled tiredly, your sisters hands on your shoulders pulling you into a sitting position. "is it time for school?" you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes again and frowning as you noticed it was still dark outside.

"no. i need your help with something, but you have to be quiet pequeña and you are not allowed to ask any questions until we are in the car, vale?" alexia whispered as you nodded still half asleep, slumping over as the older girl moved to grab you some clothes.

"no no fresita, hora de despertarse!" alexia chuckled as you started to doze off again, catching you before your head could hit the pillow. "but its dark out." you yawned, shivering lightly as your covers were tugged away.

"i know. i will explain in the car hermanita, just get dressed please." alexia placed down a bundle of clothes beside you, flicking on your lamp before slipping back out of the room and closing her door behind her.

hopelessly confused you'd done as she'd asked, dressing yourself in the all black outfit she'd chosen, alexia joining you in a few minutes time also dressed all in black with a backpack slung over her shoulder.

"what are we doing?" "shh." "but its dark and-" "fres i said no questions till we get to the car!" "but-" "fresa." "fine."

"why do we need eggs?" you whispered with a frown, falling silent at the look your sister flashed you as she very quietly closed the fridge and motioned for you to follow her.

alexia held her breathe as she slid open the back door as quietly as possible, ushering you out and wincing as she slid it back closed with a click.

grabbing the back of your hoodie and holding you alexia watched eli's room with baited breath, sighing when the light didn't turn on. "vamos." she whispered, nodding for you to follow her down the back steps and around the side of the house.

"i'm not allowed to sit in the front." you reminded as your sister opened the passenger door and gestured for you to sit inside. "well tonight you are, get in."

once again as alexia started her car she paused, watching eli's window and only backing out of the driveway once the light remained off. "thank god mami snores." alexia mumbled with a shake of her head and a sigh of relief.

"can i ask questions now?" you asked eagerly, properly awake and almost vibrating in your seat as alexia exhaled and nodded her head, still driving to a place only she knew.

"where are we going? what are we doing? why do you have eggs? why did we use the back door? why isn't alba coming? why did we not tell mami? why are we wearing all black? why am i in the front? am i in trouble? are you in trouble?" you rambled out all nearly just in one breath, finishing and inhaling deeply, chest heaving.

"jesus you ask a lot of questions." alexia grumbled not having expected all of that, but with a shake of her head she gave you your answers.

"alba's ex girlfriends house. defending alba. they're for throwing. the front door squeaks. alba needs some sleep. mami wouldn't understand. so we blend more into the night. because i said so. no and no."

"i am still confused." "you'll see when we get there pequeña."

and that you had, the two of you pulling up to a house you'd not seen before in a street that wasn't familiar to you, not a soul in sight given it was around three in the morning.

"i don't think i can throw that far ale..." you chewed your bottom lip nervously, your sister chuckling and ruffling your hair. "thats fine hermana i will be throwing. your job is to hand me the eggs and keep a lookout, vale?" your sister instructed as you nodded, determined frown on your face.

so unloading a carton of eggs onto this girls house you both managed to sneak out undetected, proud grin on alexia's face as you rambled on and on the entire way home about how cool she was and how cool this was.

but you deflated slightly when you were sworn to secrecy after making a comment about how you couldn't wait to tell your friends at school about your adventure, pinky promising alexia you wouldn't tell a soul bar alba.

but there had been a reason you'd gotten away with it, and that was that despite thinking you were defending your sisters honour and practically falling asleep in your cereal that next morning, you and alexia had egged the wrong house.

"how was i supposed to know she moved house! i dropped alba off there when they were still together." alexia huffed, back in present time as the two of you crouched down in the bushes.

"you could have checked!" you rolled your eyes as your sister gave you a look of disbelief. "oh so true you are so right fres, maybe i should have gone and knocked on the front door and checked she still lived there?" alexia whispered harshly as you pulled a face.

"that wasn't what i meant." you mumbled, alexia handing you a carton of eggs. "vamos! its time hermana." and before you could even say another word alexia was leaping out of hiding and you were stumbing after her.

"least you can throw them now!" alexia teased as you both hauled egg after egg at your ex best friends house, admittedly feeling quite a sense of joy as they cracked and exploded all over it.

"mierda, go go go!" alexia almost shouldered you to the ground as the lights all turned on in the house, the pair of you sprinting away into the night, a belt of laughter leaving your lips as your sister glanced over her shoulder with a grin, the pair of you stopping once you were a safe enough distance away.

"feel good?" alexia asked with a smile once you'd caught your breath. "sí." you admitted, unable to argue her point that this would help you take back closure you were never given. "told you." your sister nudged her shoulder into yours.

"there is one other thing that would make me feel better." you added meeting her gaze as she frowned but nodded on encouragingly for you to continue.

but much to her shock what followed wasn't words, rather it was a cold egg smashed against the top of her head, your sister gasping in surprise as your lips curled into a grin.

"muchas gracias hermana, i feel much much better now. about everything!" you smiled happily, alexia wiping away the yolk which dribbled down her face with a hum. "i guess i deserved that." your sister sighed in acceptance given how she'd treated you the last year.

"but...as la hermana mayor." you recognized the glint in her eyes right away but before you could run her hand grabbed your hood, an egg smashed against your forehead. "alexia!" you gasped, wiping yolk out of your eyes as her laughter rang through the night.

"qué? you used to always want us to match, no?" the blonde grinned wickedly, shoving your head with a wink and rummaging around in her pockets. "fresa!" alexia groaned pushing you off as you wiped your face on her jumper.

"diablillo." your sister grumbled, huffing as she checked her pockets time after time. "did i give you the keys?" alexia asked as your eyes widened. "no. you had them, did you lose them? ale we need to get out of here we can't be found at the scene of the crime with egg all over us!" you hissed at the older girl.

"you can't find them. can you?" "they must have fallen out while we ran. hijo de puta!" "do you have a spare?" "sí...at home." "alexia!" "relajarse, i have to make a call."

you perked up as headlights appeared at the end of the street, hood pulled over your head and hair matted with egg as you counted down the minutes until you'd be back home and in a hot shower, a familiar car coming to a stop in front of where you and alexia sat on the curb.

"honestamente. do you two idiotas ever learn?" alba sighed, rolling down the window and holding up alexia's spare car key, twirling it around on her finger.

"we got the right house this time?" you shrugged as alexia snagged it with a grateful smile and a mumbled thank you, kissing your sisters cheek in appreciation.

"one day i'm going to get a call to bail you two tontos out of prison and it will be for...eggs."

~

you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you as you lay on alexia's couch watching a movie, your sisters settled on the other side of it allowing you the space you needed, though things were on the mend they weren't fixed.

but you'd be lying if you said that it didn't feel good to get a sense of normalcy back, watching movies and staying up late with the two of them just like you used to before everything changed.

especially given everything going on with your mami you did need them more than you realised, the thought of laying in an empty house by yourself while eli was in hospital not something you wanted to experience as much as you thought you could handle it.

you needed them, and you'd been needing them, but you were growing tired of pretending you didn't for the sake of saving your own feelings. your walls were still up but with your mami's words ringing in your ear you knew you didn't have to knock them all down but you needed to start lowering a draw bridge at least.

though between all of your thinking and the emotional exhaustion of everything catching up to you, it wasn't long before your eyes started to grow heavy and you dozed off.

"ale." the blonde looked away from the screen at the knock of alba's knee against her own, the younger girl nodding to where you were dead asleep, sprawled across the end of the L shaped sofa.

"some things don't change." alba chuckled, the pair of them now staring at you soundly sleeping, chest rising and falling. "just like when she was a baby, never makes it through a movie." alexia smiled fondly, getting up to grab a blanket and draping it over you, tucking in the sides like she knew you liked.

"she's still a baby, even if mami says we're not supposed to tell her that anymore." alba smiled, catching alexia's eye who chuckled, hesitating for a moment before leaning down and softly kissing your forehead.

"sí, our pequeña."

~

"so she can come home on tuesday? they're sure?" you asked in disbelief, alexia having just returned from the hospital and picking you up from work.

your eldest sister worried about you returning even just for a half day, but the clinic was rarely open on saturday and they were only testing all day, and your boss had reached out offering if you felt up to it it would be a good learning opportunity.

so trying her best to let you take the lead in letting her know what you needed alexia had taken you to see eli this morning before dropping you off to work and returning to the hospital, picking you up afterwards firm in her word you weren't taking the bus.

"they're keeping her for observation over the weekend but things seem to be stable. she just needs to avoid anything that brings her stress, watch her cholesterol, go for her check ups, take her medication and if anything feels weird she has to go back to the doctor to let him know." alexia recounted the instructions from the doctor as you nodded along.

"did you tell her about the game?" you winced as alexia sighed with a nod. "sí, it did not go over well with mami but the nurses agreed, its too much stress." alexia explained, the two of you and alba having yesterday discussed with one another your mami's game watching tendencies and how it would spike her stress too much for her to even watch on television.

"maybe they can just sedate her during the game." you mumbled rummaging through your bag, alexia chuckling in agreement as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

"i thought i was staying at home tonight?" you frowned confused at the change of the plan as alexia pulled into her own driveway. "tú eres, alba is already there but there is something i need to give you first." alexia motioned for you to follow her inside as your frown deepened.

much to alexia's surprise you'd planned to go to her game tomorrow, already having had breakfast plans with alba and brushing it off as being easier to just go to the game with her after rather than making her take you home, alexia forcing herself not to make a big deal over the obvious steps forward not wanting to scare you off.

none the less you left your bag in the car and followed her out of the car, still in your scrubs from work and curiosity peaked as alexia let the two of you inside and called out for her girlfriend.

"hola ol." you greeted the older girl with a smile and a kiss to the cheek as she appeared, kissing alexia when she thought you weren't looking, the habit making you roll your eyes.

but before you could have a chance to properly speak to olga, alexia was pushing at your shoulders and nodding for you to go to her bedroom, olga shrugging as you gave her a curious look.

"you're being weird." you sighed as she told you to take a seat on the bed, ignoring your comment and disappearing into her wardrobe, returning a moment later with a large bag and dropping it on the bed beside you.

"hermana, i know you asked not to speak about it anymore and i will not make this a big thing but-" she paused to tug open the strings of the bag as you peeked inside and frowned again.

"-i know i have not been around and i ignored you and made you feel pushed aside, i acknowledge that. but, you were not ever not on my mind. which is why i kept all of these for you, and i admit i should have maybe just given them to you and made time for you and maybe some of this might have been avoided." alexia explained softly, eyes flickering to read your face but struggling to find a story.

"some are from champions leagues games, the game i scored my first goal back since my injury, the first game i played the full ninety, the captains armband when i first wore it again for barça, my first national game back for españa-" alexia pulled out the shirts one by one, your face still unreadable as your hand ran over the material.

"you kept these for me?" you asked, finally looking up and meeting her gaze as she nodded.

"por supuesto. fresa i have always given you jerseys which are special to me, you might have stopped coming to my games which i understand. but me wishing you were there and wanting you to have these, that never stopped, and you will always mean more to me than any camisa, any game, anything." your sister spoke firmly, a nod all you could manage at the emotions which cascaded down on you.

but never the best at expressing these your sister cleared her throat, quickly packing the jerseys back into the bag and pulling the drawstrings tight again, grabbing it and making a beeline for her bedroom door.

"vamos fres you must be tired from work, i will drive you home."

[aspenmissing]

Congrats on completing all those requests!

So, pretty please could I request the usual guys with a reader who’s a runaway bride? Like they were in an arranged marriage and fled because they wanted to be with their true love! Just something a little angsty and cute :)

Thank ya kindly <3

ʀᴜɴᴀᴡᴀʏ ʙʀɪᴅᴇ ᴘᴛ 1

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 12881 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, ꜱʟᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴍɪᴍɢ/ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠɴᴇꜱꜱ/ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ (ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴇᴇᴇᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪᴅᴇᴀ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ 2 ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ…ʙɪɢ (ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜʏ, ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜɪʟᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜɴᴀᴡᴀʏ ʙʀɪᴅᴇ). ʙᴜᴜᴜᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ ᴍʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ! <3 <3

ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

JAYCE

Y/N had met Jayce in his lab, though she had known of him long before that day. As a student at the Academy, she had heard his name murmured in hushed conversations—his talent, his ambition, the way he had shaken the very foundations of hextech research with his ideas. But she had never expected to meet him like this, entirely by accident, wandering too far from the pristine halls of the upper districts, drawn in by the vibrant energy of the lower city.

She had always been curious about the world beyond her lectures and neatly organized textbooks. It was one thing to study hextech in theory, another to see it come to life. And it was in that search for something real, something beyond politics and academia, that she found herself standing in the doorway of a dimly lit workshop, its walls lined with half-finished blueprints and shelves cluttered with spare parts.

Jayce had been hard at work, his sleeves rolled up, arms streaked with grease as he adjusted the settings on a complex contraption. The soft hum of hextech energy filled the air, the glow of blue runes casting sharp shadows across the cluttered workbench. She had lingered there, mesmerized by the sight of him—by the sheer intensity in his gaze as he worked, by the easy confidence in his movements. He muttered something under his breath, tightening a few bolts with a practiced ease, utterly absorbed in his task.

He must have sensed her presence because, without looking up, he spoke. "If you're going to stare, you might as well come in."

Y/N startled, instinctively taking a step back. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Finally, Jayce turned to face her, wiping his hands on a cloth, his expression more amused than annoyed. "You’re a student, right? From the Academy?"

She nodded hesitantly. “I am. I’ve read some of your work.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Oh? And?”

She hesitated. “Your theories on stabilized arcane energy are… ambitious.”

Jayce laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s a polite way of saying reckless.”

Y/N couldn’t quite hide her smile. “Maybe.”

That was all the invitation he needed. His face lit up with excitement as he beckoned her forward, stepping aside so she could get a better look. "Then you're in for a treat. This—" he gestured to the intricate device on the table, "—is going to change the world. Or at least, that's the plan."

Y/N stepped closer, her curiosity outweighing her caution. "It doesn’t look like much."

Jayce let out a mock-offended gasp. “Ouch. That’s because you’re seeing it in pieces. But once it’s all put together? This could revolutionize the way we harness energy.”

She glanced at the blueprints scattered across the table, trying to make sense of the carefully drawn schematics. They were complex, but the ideas were bold, innovative. She could see the brilliance in them, even if some of the calculations looked… unstable. “And you… you built this?”

"With a little help." He grinned, leaning against the workbench. "Though if you ask Viktor, he’d say I mostly break things until they start working."

She found herself smiling again before she could stop it. "Sounds efficient."

"Painfully."

That day, Jayce had eagerly explained his vision of a brighter future for Piltover, his words brimming with an enthusiasm she had never seen in the stiff, political conversations of the upper districts. His passion was infectious, and for the first time in a long while, she had felt truly captivated by something—not by duty or expectations, but by someone who believed in something greater than himself.

She hadn’t meant to return, but she had. Again and again, always with the excuse of academic curiosity, though deep down she knew it was more than that. Jayce was unlike anyone she had ever met. He challenged her, made her think, made her question the rules she had always lived by. And before she even realized it, before she could even name the feeling, she was falling for him.

=

Months passed, and their connection deepened. Their meetings became more than discussions about hextech or theoretical debates on Piltover’s future. They turned into stolen moments—late-night conversations in the glow of flickering lamps, laughter shared over hastily prepared meals, whispered confessions under the hum of hextech cores.

Jayce made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. He listened—not just to her words, but to the hesitations, the things left unsaid. He saw through the carefully composed façade she had perfected for the Academy, for her family, for the suffocating expectations of the upper city.

There were nights when she stayed too long, only leaving when the city bells signalled the deep hours of the night. Jayce would walk her as far as he could, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes lingering on her as if memorizing every moment before she disappeared back into the world that wasn’t theirs.

“You ever think about running?” he asked one night, his voice quiet in the dark.

She hesitated. “Running?”

“From all of it,” he said. “The expectations, the duty, the future someone else planned for you.”

Y/N swallowed, looking at him carefully. “And what would I do?”

Jayce gave a lopsided smile, but there was something serious behind his eyes. “Whatever you want.”

She wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe in the freedom he spoke of, in a world where she could choose her own path. But she wasn’t brave enough.

Not yet.

But she would be.

At least, that was what she told herself as she lay awake in the grand, suffocating silence of her family’s estate, staring at the carved ceiling above her bed. The echoes of their conversation haunted her, as they always did.

What if she could be the kind of person who chose herself over obligation? What if, for once, she let herself want without guilt, without fear?

The thought sent a spark through her chest—one that burned with longing and terror in equal measure.

Jayce made it sound so simple. And maybe, for someone like him, it was. Maybe that was what she admired most about him—the way he stood so firmly in his convictions, unshaken, unwilling to let the world decide his future for him.

She wished she could be that way.

One day, she hoped, she would be. One day, she would look him in the eyes and tell him she was ready. One day, she would stop being afraid.

But until then, all she had were stolen moments and the quiet, aching hope that maybe, just maybe, she was brave enough to try.

=

One evening, as they stood on the balcony of his workshop, the city lights glowing below, he had turned to her with a quiet seriousness in his gaze.

“Y/N… if you could choose your own path, what would you want?”

She had swallowed hard, staring at the twinkling lights below. “I don’t know,” she had admitted. “But I know I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be a pawn in a game I never agreed to play.”

Jayce had reached for her hand then, his fingers brushing against hers in a silent promise. “Then don’t let them decide for you.”

It was in that moment she had realized she was falling for him. Not just for his mind or his idealism, but for the quiet strength in his voice, the way he looked at her as if she mattered—not as a tool, not as an obstacle, but as someone who deserved to choose her own future.

The wind curled around them, carrying the scent of metal and ozone from his lab, but all she could focus on was the warmth of his touch. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from something far more dangerous—hope.

“What if I don’t know how to choose?” she murmured, the vulnerability in her voice barely above a whisper.

=

Y/N had known something was wrong the moment she stepped into the grand hall of her family’s estate. The air was too still, the heavy chandelier casting long, wavering shadows across the marble floors. Her parents sat waiting for her, their expressions unreadable, their posture rigid with the weight of something inevitable.

She barely had time to sit before her mother spoke.

“It’s been decided,” she said, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her gown. “You’ll be engaged to Latimer’s son.”

The words fell like a gavel’s strike. Cold. Final.

Y/N felt the world tilt slightly beneath her feet. “What?”

Her father let out a measured sigh, as if speaking to a wayward child. “This is what’s best for you—for all of us. The Latimers are influential. This match will secure your future, ensure your place in the city.”

“My place in the city?” Her voice felt small, lost in the vast emptiness of the hall. “What if I don’t want it?”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t have to want it. You just have to do it.”

A cold numbness seeped into her limbs. She had known this day would come, had spent years preparing for the inevitable. And yet, sitting here, hearing it spoken aloud, it felt like something inside her was fracturing.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to tell them that she wasn’t some bargaining chip to be traded for power. But the words stuck in her throat, swallowed by the crushing weight of expectation, of duty, of the quiet, suffocating knowledge that there was no escaping this.

So she didn’t argue.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she rose stiffly, keeping her expression neutral, controlled—just as she had been taught—and left the room without another word.

But the moment she was out of their sight, she ran.

=

Jayce’s workshop was the only place she could breathe.

She didn’t knock, didn’t announce herself—just pushed through the doors, her heart slamming against her ribs, her pulse a frantic drum in her ears. The familiar scent of metal, oil, and ozone filled her lungs, grounding her for just a moment.

Jayce looked up from his workbench, confusion flickering across his face at the sight of her. But then he saw her expression—saw the way her hands trembled at her sides, the way her breath came too fast, too uneven—and he was on his feet in an instant.

“Y/N?” His voice was gentle, careful. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth, but the words tangled together, a mess of emotions too heavy to hold back. So she just said it.

“They’ve arranged my marriage.”

Silence.

Jayce’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists before he forced them open again. “To who?”

“Latimer’s son.” The name tasted bitter on her tongue.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he turned away for a moment, as if trying to get his thoughts under control. “And you’re just going to let them do this to you?”

Y/N flinched. “Do you think I have a choice?”

“Yes.” His response was immediate, fierce. He stepped closer, eyes searching hers. “You do have a choice, Y/N. You don’t have to go through with this. You can tell them no.”

She let out a sharp, hollow laugh. “You think it’s that simple?”

“I think it’s worth fighting for,” Jayce shot back, his voice rising. “You hate this life. You’ve told me yourself—you don’t want to be their pawn. So don’t be.”

“I can’t.”

The words came out too fast, too raw, cracking at the edges. She turned away, arms wrapping around herself as if she could hold herself together. “You don’t understand, Jayce. If I say no, I lose everything. My family, my name, my place in the world.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, “Would that really be a loss?”

Her breath hitched.

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell him that it mattered, that she wasn’t strong enough to throw it all away. But deep down, a small, terrified part of her knew the truth.

She wasn’t afraid of losing everything. She was afraid of what it meant if she let herself want something else. If she let herself want him.

Jayce sighed, running a frustrated hand over his face before stepping closer, his voice gentler now. “Y/N… I know it’s not easy. But if you want out—if you want something more—you don’t have to do this alone.”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, she let herself imagine it. A different life. A different future. One where she was brave enough to choose for herself. But she wasn’t. Not yet.

“I can’t,” she whispered again, and this time, it felt like she was breaking.

Jayce’s expression softened, but there was something else in his eyes now—something sad, something aching. He reached out, hesitated, then brushed a hand against hers, his touch warm despite the cold that had settled in her chest.

“Then tell me,” he said quietly. “If you could—if none of this mattered—would you stay?”

Her throat tightened.

“Yes,” she admitted, barely more than a breath.

Jayce closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. Then he nodded, his grip on her hand tightening briefly before he let go.

“Then that’s enough for me.”

For now.

And for the first time, she wished it wasn’t.

=

After that night, things changed.

Y/N and Jayce didn’t talk as much.

Not because they fought, not because they had parted in anger—but because there was nothing left to say. She had made her choice, or at least, she had let one be made for her. And Jayce, for all his passion and conviction, couldn’t fight a battle she refused to step into.

Their stolen moments became fewer and fewer, their conversations shorter, more distant. The space between them stretched, quiet and aching, filled with all the things they no longer dared to say aloud. He still looked at her the same way, still lingered just a second too long whenever their paths crossed, but there was a quiet resignation in his eyes now—one that haunted her, one that said I would have fought for you, if you had let me.

And so, she forced herself not to think about it.

She had a role to play, a duty to fulfill. And so, she buried herself in preparations, in fittings and formalities, in endless rehearsals of a future she could barely imagine living.

Until now.

Now, she stood in her bedroom, staring at her reflection in the grand, gilded mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful. Flawless. A masterwork of silk and embroidery, the fabric flowing around her like liquid moonlight. The delicate lace trailed down her arms, the shimmering gold thread woven through the bodice catching the light just so.

It was everything it was supposed to be. She was everything she was supposed to be. And yet, she felt nothing.

Her hands smoothed down the front of the gown, fingertips ghosting over the expensive fabric, the careful stitching. Every bead, every intricate detail had been meticulously chosen to represent her family’s status, to showcase the elegance and refinement expected of her.

But nowhere in its perfection did she recognize herself.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring, searching for something she could hold onto—some part of herself that hadn’t been erased.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

She turned, her pulse quickening, half-expecting—half-hoping—to see him standing there.

But it was only a servant, their expression neutral, their posture straight and rehearsed as they bowed slightly.

“It’s almost time, my lady.”

Y/N nodded, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “I’ll be down soon.”

The door shut softly behind them, leaving her alone once more. She turned back to the mirror, her breath catching in her throat.

This is it. This is my life now.

Then why did it feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall?

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the smooth silk of her gown bunching beneath her grip. She wanted to move. To breathe. To run.

And then—her gaze drifted, landing on something out of place. Something small, something familiar. Sitting on the edge of her vanity was a small mechanical trinket, a delicate little thing made of brass and silver, shaped like a blooming flower.

Her breath hitched.

She knew this. Jayce had made it for her.

It had been one of the first things he ever gave her—a little prototype he had tinkered with absentmindedly one night, spinning gears and polished metal forming an intricate, delicate design. When he had handed it to her, he had laughed softly, almost embarrassed.

"It doesn’t do much," he had said. "But I thought you’d like it. You always seem like you’re waiting for something to bloom."

Her fingers trembled as she reached for it now, brushing against the cool metal. A small, hidden switch along its side clicked under her touch, and with a quiet whir, the petals slowly unfolded, revealing a tiny gemstone at its center.

A heartbeat. A memory. A promise.

"Then don’t let them decide for you."

Her pulse roared in her ears. She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t walk down that aisle, couldn’t stand beside a man who wasn’t Jayce, couldn’t trade away the last fragments of herself for duty and expectation. She would fall off that cliff. So she had two choices.

Fall.

Or jump.

The decision came before she could think. Before fear could creep in and stop her.

With shaking hands, she grabbed the hem of her dress, yanking it up as she turned toward the window. The air outside was thick with the scent of rain, the streets below dimly lit, quiet—waiting.

Her heart pounded as she unlatched the window, the cool night air hitting her like a shock. The silk of her gown pooled around her feet, beautiful and useless, not made for running.

She didn’t care. She climbed onto the ledge, looking down, looking forward. Then—she jumped.

And she ran.

=

The wind howled through the empty streets of Piltover, carrying the distant echoes of the grand celebration she had abandoned. The laughter, the music, the clinking of crystal glasses—it all felt like a cruel mockery now. Y/N’s wedding dress, once a masterpiece of delicate embroidery and flowing silk, was tattered from her escape, the pristine fabric now marred by dirt and grime. Her heart pounded as she ran, breath coming in sharp gasps, the weight of her decision pressing down on her chest like a vice.

She had fled.

A grand engagement, an extravagant future, a husband chosen for her by duty rather than love—she had left it all behind.

That was the moment she knew there was no going back.

Now, she pressed herself into the shadows of a narrow alley, her golden bracelet clinking against the stone wall as she hugged herself, trying to steady her shaking breaths. It was the last relic of the life she was meant to have. A symbol of her betrothal, of her father’s expectations, of the cage she had just broken free from.

She should have taken it off. She should have thrown it away.

But she couldn’t.

Not yet.

Because the part of her that had spent years trying to be the perfect daughter, the perfect bride, the perfect pawn—that part still lingered, whispering that she had made a mistake.

The city stretched out before her, its winding streets both foreign and familiar. She had nowhere to go.

No one to turn to.

Except him.

=

Her feet carried her through winding streets, past towering brass structures and shimmering lamps, until she reached a familiar workshop. Her trembling hand rapped against the wooden door, desperate but hesitant. What if he turned her away? What if he thought she was a coward?

The door swung open before she could dwell on those thoughts. Jayce stood there, shirt slightly rumpled, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but they widened the moment he saw her.

“Y/N?”

She shivered, hugging herself. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He scanned her from head to toe—her ruined dress, her bare feet, the way she trembled not just from the cold but from the sheer weight of her decision. His jaw tensed. Then, without a word, he pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her.

Jayce grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair, draping it over her shoulders. His touch was warm, grounding. He was always warm.

“You ran away.” It wasn’t a question, just a quiet observation.

“I couldn’t do it.” Her voice cracked. “I couldn’t marry him. Not when I—”

She hesitated, but she didn’t need to finish. Jayce already knew. His expression softened, and for a moment, the world fell away. There was no arranged marriage, no expectations, no family breathing down her neck—just Jayce, looking at her like she was something precious.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Y/N…” He took a step closer, tilting her chin up so she met his gaze. “You should’ve told me.”

Tears burned in her eyes. “And what would you have done?”

“Anything. Everything.” His hands slid down her arms, his grip firm but gentle. “I wouldn’t have let them take you away from me.”

A sob broke free, and she collapsed against him. Jayce caught her easily, wrapping his arms around her. He held her like she was something fragile, but also like he had no intention of ever letting go.

“I love you,” she whispered into his chest, finally saying the words she had swallowed for too long.

Jayce stiffened for only a second before he let out a shaky laugh. “You really know how to throw a guy’s life into chaos, huh?”

She managed a small smile against his shirt. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You chose me, Y/N. You walked away from everything for me. I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you.”

The weight of the night still hung over them—the uncertainty of what came next, the inevitable fallout of her decision. But right now, none of it mattered.

Right now, with Jayce’s arms around her and his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek, she knew one thing for certain.

She had made the right choice.

VIKTOR

Viktor had always been good with words. They bent to his will, formed theories, solved equations, built a bridge between ideas and reality.

But not with you. Never with you.

He had known you for years—since the very first time he had stepped foot in Piltover, a hopeful boy with a cane and too many ideas. You had been kind to him when others turned up their noses, when they saw only his limp and his shabby clothes. Where others muttered about a Zaunite who had no place among them, you had offered him a seat beside you.

And ever since, you had been at his side.

You were at his side now, sitting in his lab, idly flipping through one of his research notes while he worked. The warm glow of the lamplight cast golden highlights on your skin, and every so often, he caught himself watching you instead of his work.

He shouldn’t.

But gods, he couldn’t help it.

"Viktor," you said suddenly, breaking the silence. You stretched, groaning softly before tossing the notebook aside. "How long have we been friends?"

He stilled, fingers tightening around the piece of machinery in his hands. "A long time," he murmured.

"Years," you agreed, leaning back against the desk, watching him with a lazy smile. "Feels like forever."

It did. Viktor could hardly remember a time without you. Your laughter echoing through the halls of the Academy. Your voice teasing him when he forgot to eat. The way you looked at him—not with pity, never with that—but with something softer. Something kinder.

Something he would never deserve.

"You ever think about what life would’ve been like if we hadn’t met?" you mused, tilting your head toward him.

His throat tightened. "No."

You blinked. "No?"

Viktor exhaled, setting down his tools. "I do not wish to imagine such a thing."

Your smile faltered slightly, something unreadable flickering across your face. "Me neither," you said softly.

His heart ached.

He had loved you for as long as he could remember.

From the moment you had spoken to him like an equal, when no one else would. From the nights spent in the lab, when the world outside disappeared and only the two of you remained. From every touch, every glance, every moment where he let himself believe—just for a second—that maybe, maybe, you could feel the same.

But he would never tell you.

Because what good would it do? What life could he offer you? A man like him, with a failing body and a mind consumed by work? A man who could barely stand without his cane, who grew weaker by the day?

No. He would not ruin this.

Instead, he reached for his cane and stood, offering you the closest thing he could to the truth. "I am glad we met, (Y/N)."

Your eyes searched his face, as if looking for something. As if you knew. But if you did, you didn’t say.

You only smiled, gentle and warm. "Me too, Vik."

And that would have to be enough.

Even if it wasn’t.

=

The gala was suffocating.

Golden chandeliers bathed the grand hall in warm light, reflecting off crystal glasses and polished marble floors. The air was thick with perfume and wine, and the hum of conversation blended with the soft strains of a string quartet.

Viktor hated these events.

But you were here, and that made it bearable.

You stood beside him near the edge of the ballroom, where it was quieter. Your dress shimmered under the light, a thing of silk and elegance, and yet, you still looked like you—soft, warm, and a little out of place, just as he was.

"You look miserable," you teased, sipping from a glass of champagne.

He smirked, shifting his weight onto his cane. "Ah, yes, because these gatherings are simply my favourite pastime."

You laughed, light and familiar, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, as it always was. For a moment, he could pretend.

Your hand brushed his sleeve as you leaned in. “I’m glad you came, though.”

His breath caught.

“I—” But before he could finish, a voice cut through the air.

"(Y/N), dear!"

Your body stiffened, and Viktor turned just as your parents approached. Your mother was smiling—pleased, eager—but your father’s gaze was calculating as he flicked a glance toward Viktor before settling on you.

"Come," your mother said, wrapping an arm around yours. "There's someone we'd like you to meet."

Viktor saw it then—the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, the way your fingers tightened slightly around your glass.

You didn't want to go. But you let yourself be led away. And he let you go.

Viktor watched as they guided you toward a man standing near the centre of the room. He was tall, well-dressed, handsome in the way that Piltover high society admired. A man of wealth, of power. A man who could give you everything Viktor could not.

Something twisted in his chest.

You turned your head, just for a moment, catching Viktor’s eyes from across the ballroom. And in that fleeting second, he saw it—an unspoken plea, a silent wish.

But what could he do? What could he say? So, Viktor did what he had always done. He said nothing.

And he watched as the world took you away from him.

=

The lab was quiet at this hour, save for the soft hum of machinery and the distant rumble of Zaun beneath Piltover’s pristine streets. Viktor sat hunched over his desk, fingers absentmindedly tapping against his cane as he read through a set of schematics.

He hadn’t seen you much in the past few weeks.

Not like before. Not like the days when you’d linger in his lab, curled up in a chair beside him, teasing him for forgetting to eat while he worked. Those moments had become rare now, slipping between the cracks of time and obligation, buried beneath the weight of your engagement.

But you still came. Sometimes in passing, sometimes under the guise of checking in, sometimes just long enough to share a look—one that said all the things neither of you dared to speak aloud.

And yet, when the knock came—three soft raps against the door—his breath still caught.

For a fleeting second, he considered not answering. If he ignored you, maybe you would leave. Maybe you would walk away and let him fade into the background of your life, where he belonged.

But then your voice came, quiet, hesitant.

“Vik… it’s me.”

His resolve shattered.

Slowly, he set his work aside, gripping his cane as he pushed himself up. The floor creaked as he made his way to the door, and when he opened it, there you stood.

You looked different.

Not in a way the world would notice, but Viktor did. He always noticed. There was something hollow in your eyes, something weighed down by exhaustion, as if you had been carrying a burden too heavy for one person alone.

His throat tightened. “(Y/N)…”

Your lips parted, but for a moment, you said nothing. Just looked at him—looked through him—like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground.

Then, you whispered, “I need to show you something.”

=

The city was quiet this late at night, but the air inside your dimly lit bedroom was heavy with something unspoken. A single candle flickered on the nightstand, the glow casting jagged shadows against the walls. Viktor sat beside you on the edge of your bed, still as stone, his golden eyes locked onto the figure before him.

You.

Dressed in your usual clothes, but before you, draped over the vanity chair like a ghost of your future, was the dress.

It was exquisite—delicate lace embroidery, pearls sewn along the bodice, the softest silk cascading onto the floor in an endless train. A gown fit for the life that had been chosen for you. One you never wanted.

The gala. When your parents led you away. When you met him. The man they had chosen for you.

“That was what it was,” you had murmured earlier, when you first appeared at his lab, voice shaking with something exhausted, something broken. “When they introduced me to him that night… it wasn’t just pleasantries. It wasn’t just some nobleman. That was my fiancé, Viktor. That was the moment they decided my future for me.”

The moment they took you from him. And now, here you were. The dress draped over your chair like a cage waiting to be closed. The proof of your impending fate.

And you, sitting beside him, looking at him, as though he was the only thing keeping you from drowning. He should not be here. He should have let you go, let you slip through his fingers like all things meant for better men.

But he had let you take him

And now, sitting in the dim glow of your bedroom, with only the weight of what would never be between you, he found himself incapable of looking away.

You swallowed hard, eyes still fixed on the gown. “I can’t do it, Viktor.”

Silence stretched between you.

Viktor’s gaze flickered between you and the dress, something unreadable crossing his features. After a moment, he spoke. “They will be looking for you. If you leave, you know this, yes?”

“I know.”

“They will not let you go easily.”

You turned to him then, desperate. “I don’t want their life.”

A bitter chuckle left him. “And you think I can give you something better?” He shook his head, looking away. “I am no safe haven, Y/N.”

His words stung more than you expected. You had spent years at each other’s sides—laughing, talking until sunrise, lingering in spaces too small for two people who shouldn’t have been so close. And yet, despite everything, despite how much you knew he cared, he still wouldn’t say it.

Your throat tightened. “I would rather be ruined than live without love.”

His breath hitched, and when his eyes finally met yours again, something in them cracked.

Because he had spent years convincing himself he was not enough. That he had nothing to offer you but friendship. That the idea of keeping you was selfish.

And yet, sitting beside him with your whole future crashing down around you, you had never looked more his.

But still, he shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “I will not let that happen.” His fingers curled tightly around his cane. “You have to go through with this, Y/N. It is the only way.”

Your stomach twisted. “So that’s it?” Your voice wavered, sharp with disbelief. “You won’t even fight for me?”

Something flickered in his gaze—pain, hesitation, longing so raw it nearly shattered his restraint.

Then, abruptly, he stood. The floor creaked beneath his uneven steps, and for a brief, fleeting moment, his fingers ghosted over yours. A touch so light, so hesitant, that it almost wasn’t there at all.

“You deserve more than stolen moments in the dead of night,” he murmured, his words cracking at the edges. “You deserve more than someone who cannot even stand at your side without a cane.”

Your breath caught.

Viktor’s jaw clenched as he forced himself to take a step back, his expression unreadable—locked behind the same walls you had spent years trying to break down.

And then, softer, more broken than before—

“You deserve more than me.”

You didn’t try to stop him this time. You just stared at the dress, at the life suffocating you, as silent tears began to slip down your cheeks. Your shoulders trembled, and then, all at once, the weight of it crashed down.

A sob broke past your lips.

Viktor stopped. His fingers twitched against the head of his cane, nails pressing into the wood. He could feel the way his body ached to turn back, to wipe your tears, to whisper that he loved you, that he had always loved you, that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Because if he turned around now, he would never let you go.

And so, he forced his feet to move, each step heavier than the last, until the door clicked softly behind him, leaving you alone with the dress.

Leaving you alone with everything.

=

The cathedral was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense, curling through the vast stone chamber like a phantom, and the weight of a hundred expectant stares pressed against your skin.

You stood before the altar, the silk of your gown pooling around you like a cage, heavy and inescapable. Your fiancé was beside you, his grip firm yet impersonal, like he was securing a business deal rather than taking a wife.

The priest spoke, his voice steady, rehearsed. You barely heard him. The walls felt like they were closing in, the candlelight flickering against the stained glass, casting eerie halos around the saints above.

Your fingers trembled in your fiancé’s grasp. This was wrong. All of it was wrong.

Then came the question.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

The world went silent. Your lungs constricted. Your pulse pounded in your ears.

This was the moment—the point of no return. You saw the years stretched ahead of you, a life not your own. A home devoid of warmth, a man who would never understand you, a bed that would always feel cold.

Your lips parted. “I—” Your breath hitched. Your gaze flickered to the grand doors of the church. And then, clarity struck like lightning.

"I'm sorry."

Run.

You didn’t think. You didn’t hesitate. You ran.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, shocked murmurs rising like a wave. Your mother’s voice, sharp and furious, pierced the air, but her words barely registered. Your father called your name, and then the stunned, outraged shout of your fiancé cut through the chaos.

But you didn’t stop.

You lifted your gown, your legs burning as you sprinted down the aisle, past the horrified nobles and scandalized whispers, past the heavy wooden pews and the golden altar that was meant to seal your fate.

The moment your feet hit the marble steps outside, you gulped in the cool air like it was your first breath in years.

And then, you really ran.

The streets of Piltover blurred around you, your slippers slipping against the cobblestones, your dress catching on debris, ripping at the hem as you pushed forward, desperate, breathless, free.

People stared. They gawked at the runaway bride tearing through the city like a ghost fleeing its grave, but you didn’t care.

Because you knew exactly where you were going.

=

Viktor’s workshop was dimly lit, the glow of his blueprints casting flickering shadows against the cluttered walls. The scent of oil and parchment filled the air, the steady tick, tick, tick of his mechanical work the only sound.

He sat at his desk, hunched over his latest project, fingers curled tightly around his cane, as if he had been sitting there for hours—waiting, thinking, regretting.

And then—

The door slammed open.

His head jerked up, golden eyes widening at the sight of you standing in the doorway, breathless, wild, your wedding dress in ruins.

For a long, frozen moment, neither of you spoke.

The fabric of your gown was torn, dirt-streaked from the streets, and your chest heaved with exertion. Loose strands of hair clung to your damp skin, your hands trembling at your sides.

Viktor’s fingers tightened around his cane, knuckles white.

"Y/N," he breathed. His voice was hoarse, disbelieving.

You took a shaky step forward, and then another, and suddenly your knees buckled beneath you. Before you could fall, Viktor was there—his cane abandoned, his arms catching you before you hit the ground.

You collapsed against him, gasping, gripping at his vest as though you were afraid he would disappear. His scent—books, ink, something faintly metallic—was familiar, grounding. The world still felt like it was spinning, but in his arms, it didn’t matter.

His breath was uneven against your hair, his heart hammering beneath your palm where it pressed against his chest.

“You absolute fool,” he whispered, but there was no malice in his words. Only something raw, something breaking. His hands clung to you, one pressed firm against your back, the other gripping your waist as if he feared you would be torn from him.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your vision blurred with unshed tears. “I had to.” Your voice was barely a whisper, fractured and desperate. “I couldn’t—not without you.”

Viktor’s throat bobbed. His hands flexed against you, hesitant, as if part of him still thought this was a dream.

His golden eyes searched yours, wide and aching, as though trying to memorize every part of you—every piece of this impossible, reckless choice you had made.

“You left everything,” he rasped, his fingers ghosting along the curve of your jaw. “For me?”

Your breath hitched.

“For us,” you corrected.

A shuddering exhale left him. His forehead pressed against yours, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured.

And then, finally, finally—

He kissed you.

It was desperate, trembling, inevitable. A kiss that tasted of longing and missed chances, of too many almosts and a love buried under years of silence. His lips were warm, unsteady, but when you sighed against him, when your fingers tangled in his curls, he broke.

A quiet sound escaped him, something fragile, something relieved, and suddenly, he was clutching you—one hand cradling the back of your head, the other gripping your waist like you might disappear if he let go.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, voice trembling. “I have always loved you.”

Viktor sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening. When he spoke, his voice cracked.

“You are insufferable,” he murmured, a wry, breathless laugh escaping him. “Brilliant. Infuriating.”

He kissed you again, slow and lingering, as if he could pour all his unspoken words into the space between you.

And then, softer—softer than you’d ever heard him—

“I love you too.”

Your chest tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy.

You had run. You had abandoned everything for this—for him.

And Viktor, who had spent years convincing himself that he was undeserving, that he was less, held you like you were the only thing in the world that had ever mattered.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you dared to let go. Because for once—just once—this moment was yours.

And neither of you would let it slip away.

JAYVIK

The first time she met them, she hadn’t expected them to change her life.

She had been wandering through Piltover’s academy halls, drawn by the quiet hum of machinery and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the corridors. The walls, lined with polished brass plaques and intricate blueprints, seemed to breathe innovation, whispering of endless possibilities. It was a place where minds far greater than hers were shaping the future, molding science into magic. And yet, despite knowing she didn’t belong among these scholars, she couldn’t help but be fascinated by the impossible things that could be created with just ingenuity and the right materials.

She didn’t mean to intrude. She told herself she’d just peek, just steal a glance before moving along. But curiosity had a way of rooting her in place, of pulling her toward a partially open door where the glow of warm lamplight spilled into the dim hallway.

Inside, two figures stood in the midst of an animated discussion.

One was broad-shouldered, gesturing with an easy confidence as he spoke, his voice rich and full of conviction. He had a presence that commanded attention without effort, his movements fluid and expressive. The other was leaner, more reserved, standing with the aid of a cane, his brace visible beneath the folds of his coat. He twirled a small mechanical piece between long, dexterous fingers, golden eyes flickering with sharp intelligence. He followed the conversation with the kind of quiet calculation that suggested he was always three steps ahead.

Jayce and Viktor.

She barely had time to process before Jayce turned, catching sight of her lingering in the doorway. His dark brows lifted, but rather than irritation, his face lit with curiosity. “Hey, you lost?”

She froze, caught between the urge to flee and the realization that she didn’t want to. The warmth in his tone, the lack of immediate dismissal—it was enough to keep her rooted in place.

“No,” she said quickly, smoothing down the fabric of her sleeves. “I just—was passing by.”

Viktor tilted his head, assessing her with quiet interest. He was less overt in his scrutiny than Jayce, but his sharp gaze missed nothing. Adjusting his weight slightly on his cane, he studied her, his expression unreadable. “Passing by,” he echoed, his accent thick around the words. “And yet, you stopped.”

She felt her face heat under his watchful stare, suddenly hyperaware of how out of place she must seem. “I guess I got curious.”

Jayce’s mouth curved into a grin, arms folding across his chest. “Curiosity’s a good thing. You interested in tech?”

Her instinct was to downplay it, to say she was just a casual observer, but something about the way both men looked at her—expectant, open, intrigued—made her hesitate. She didn’t want to sound foolish, not in front of people who clearly lived and breathed this world.

“I mean… I don’t know much,” she admitted, “but I like watching how things work.”

Viktor’s lips quirked, an almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “An observer,” he mused. “That is often where all great minds begin.”

There was something about the way he said it—something validating, something that made her feel less like a trespasser and more like she belonged here, in this space filled with half-finished blueprints and sparks of invention.

Jayce stepped aside, nodding toward their workspace. “You want a closer look?”

Viktor shifted slightly, leaning more on his cane, waiting for her response with a quiet kind of patience.

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping through the doorway, crossing the threshold into a world she didn’t yet realize she would never want to leave.

And just like that, without even realizing it, she had taken the first step toward falling in love with them.

=

Time passed, and she kept returning.

At first, it was sporadic—an occasional visit, a fleeting conversation. But each time, she lingered longer. Jayce’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Viktor’s mind was an endless puzzle she longed to understand. They welcomed her as though she had always belonged there, offering explanations, demonstrations, and challenges that sparked something deep inside her.

It was Viktor who first noticed the way her eyes lingered on the complex schematics pinned to the walls, the way her fingers itched to trace the fine lines of the designs. One evening, after watching her hesitate by the worktable for too long, he slid a half-finished mechanism toward her without a word.

She blinked at him, startled. “What?”

“Try,” he said simply, resting his weight against his cane. “You are watching so intently. Perhaps your hands should do more than that.”

She hesitated only a moment before picking it up, feeling the cool metal under her fingers. Jayce leaned in, watching with interest as she studied it, testing the small gears with careful movements.

“You’re good at this,” Jayce noted, a grin forming. “You sure you’re not secretly an engineer?”

She scoffed, but there was warmth in her chest, a kind of pride she hadn’t expected to feel. “I just… pick things up quickly.”

Viktor hummed. “Quick thinking is valuable.” He nodded toward the blueprint on the table. “But understanding why it works—that is more important. Here.” He handed her a pencil and tapped the paper. “Explain how you think this functions.”

It started as a test, but soon, it became something more. With each visit, she grew bolder, speaking her thoughts aloud, questioning their designs, offering her own theories. And each time, instead of dismissing her, they encouraged her. Viktor would challenge her ideas with sharp precision, his golden gaze alight with intrigue. Jayce would grin, offer counterarguments, and praise her insight with genuine excitement.

She found herself thriving in their presence, her mind stretching in ways it never had before. They saw her not just as an observer, but as someone capable, someone intelligent.

And slowly, she began to see it, too.

=

The lab was unusually quiet that evening. The hum of machinery filled the space, but neither Jayce nor Viktor spoke. They worked, side by side, as they always did, the rhythm of their movements familiar, comforting. Y/N had always found peace in this—watching the two of them lost in their world of creation, a world she had slowly, unwittingly become a part of.

But tonight, that peace felt fragile, as if her words might break something irreparable.

“I have something to tell you both,” she started, voice careful.

Jayce looked up from his blueprint first, brows knitting together. “That sounds serious.”

Viktor didn’t glance up immediately, but the way his hand stilled over his notes told her he was listening.

She took a deep breath. “My parents arranged a marriage for me.”

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Jayce’s jaw tightened. Viktor slowly set his pen down, finally lifting his golden gaze to hers. “Arranged,” he repeated, his accent making the word feel heavier, as if he were weighing it, turning it over in his mind like an equation he couldn’t solve.

She nodded. “It’s… tradition. My family believes in securing beneficial ties. He’s from a respectable background. Kind, polite—he’s never been cruel to me.”

Jayce let out a sharp exhale, his fingers flexing against the table’s surface. “And you’re just supposed to accept that?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

“I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. “He’s sweet, Jayce. He’s not a bad person.”

Viktor hummed, though there was no amusement in the sound. “That is convenient,” he murmured, tilting his head. “If he were cruel, it would be easier to refuse.”

She swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “I just… I don’t want you to think this is some nightmare for me. It isn’t.”

Jayce crossed his arms, his expression stormy. His dark eyes locked onto hers, as if searching for something—an answer, a reassurance, anything. “That doesn’t mean it’s what you want.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. Because, deep down, she wasn’t sure.

Viktor exhaled slowly, tapping his cane against the floor as he leaned forward. His gaze was unreadable, but something flickered beneath the surface—something unspoken, restrained. “And what do you want, Y/N?” His voice was softer now, as if he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from her.

She looked between them—the two people who had become so important to her, the ones who had never looked down on her, never doubted her mind or her place among them.

The ones who made her feel alive.

She knew. She had known for a long time. But the words refused to form.

Jayce had always been warmth and fire, his passion as boundless as his belief in her. His confidence made her feel like she could do anything, like she belonged in this world, in their world. He was the one who had laughed with her, challenged her, made her feel like she was more than just a name, more than just a duty to her family.

And Viktor… Viktor, with his sharp mind and quiet, steady presence. He never underestimated her. He saw her—truly saw her—not as a curiosity, but as an equal, someone with thoughts worth sharing, ideas worth hearing. When he spoke, it felt like he was unraveling pieces of her she hadn’t even known were tangled.

They were everything she had ever wanted, and yet, none of them had ever dared to say it.

Because how could they?

How could she?

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to meet their gazes, to hold onto this moment for just a little longer before reality crushed it.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, the words a betrayal to everything she truly felt. But then, softer—so quiet she wasn’t sure if they heard—she admitted, “But I don’t think it’s him.”

Jayce let out a breath, his posture shifting as if he wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t find the words. Viktor’s fingers tapped soundlessly against the edge of the table, his golden eyes lingering on her as though memorizing every detail of her face.

None of them spoke the truth that hung between them.

But they all felt it.

=

Weeks later, the academy hosted a grand gala, an event filled with Piltover’s finest minds and most influential figures. It was here that she introduced Viktor and Jayce to her fiancé.

He was charming, well-mannered, and impeccably dressed, with the kind of polished refinement that made him fit effortlessly into Piltover’s elite. At first glance, he was everything a suitor should be—kind, attentive, even engaging in light conversation with Jayce about Hextech advancements.

But there was an edge to his words when he spoke to her. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless.

“You always did have a fascination with tinkering,” he remarked smoothly, offering her a practiced smile. “It’s sweet, really. Like watching a child take apart a clock and pretend to understand it.”

Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened ever so slightly. Jayce’s easygoing expression faltered, his jaw clenching.

She forced a smile. “I’d like to think I’ve learned more than just pretending.”

Her fiancé chuckled, as if amused by her response. “Of course, darling. But some things are best left to those who truly understand them, don’t you think?”

Jayce’s grip on his drink tightened, while Viktor’s golden eyes darkened. They exchanged a glance—silent, but telling.

She exhaled, the warmth and acceptance she had found in Viktor and Jayce’s lab suddenly feeling like a stark contrast to the cold, condescending words of the man standing beside her.

And for the first time, she truly questioned whether this was the future she wanted.

=

A week before her wedding, she hesitated before bringing up the idea to her fiancé. The weight of it sat heavy on her chest, suffocating. But she wasn’t afraid—at least, not yet. Up until this point, he had been nothing but kind to her, always polite, always well-mannered. There had been comments, little things that didn’t sit right, moments that made her pause.

You’re so bright for someone who never studied formally.

It’s adorable how passionate you are about things you don’t really need to understand.

I admire your determination. Even when it’s misplaced.

But he had never been cruel. Never raised his voice. Never done anything to make her fear him.

So she smiled as she brought it up, thinking nothing of it.

“I want to invite Jayce and Viktor,” she said lightly, swirling her tea in its porcelain cup. “They’ve been such an important part of my life these past few months, and I just know they’ll be thrilled. I was thinking we could seat them right up front.”

She looked up at him, expecting him to nod, perhaps even chuckle at her enthusiasm.

Instead, his entire demeanour shifted. His fingers stilled against the rim of his glass, his jaw tightening so subtly she almost didn’t notice.

“No.”

The finality in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.

She blinked. “What?”

His eyes were unreadable, his expression calm—too calm. “No,” he repeated.

Her smile faltered. “Why not? They’re my friends.”

He sighed as if she were being difficult, setting his glass down with deliberate care. Then, he reached for her wrist. The touch was gentle at first, the way he had always been with her.

But then his grip tightened.

“Because I said so.”

A strange, heavy feeling settled in her stomach. His fingers, once reassuring, were firm now, like steel wrapped in silk. She let out a quiet laugh, confused. “That’s not a reason.”

His grip hardened. Not enough to bruise—not yet—but enough that she felt the warning beneath it. A subtle, possessive force pressing into her skin.

“You spend too much time with them,” he said, his voice lowering. It was still smooth, still perfectly controlled, but there was something beneath it now, something sharp. “I see the way you look at them. The way they look at you.”

Her breath hitched. Had she been careless? Had it been that obvious?

“They’re my friends,” she repeated, her voice smaller now, unsure.

His thumb traced over her wrist, deceptively soft. “Stay away from them.”

The air in the room suddenly felt too thick, pressing against her lungs. “You don’t get to tell me—”

She didn’t get to finish. His fingers clamped down harder, yanking her forward with a force that stole the breath from her lungs. Her pulse spiked. Panic flickered in her chest like a warning bell.

“Do you understand me?” His voice was quieter now, more dangerous, more intimate in its threat.

She swallowed, her throat tight. “Yes,” she forced out, nodding quickly. Her heart was hammering so hard she thought it might burst.

He stared at her for a moment longer, his gaze sharp, assessing, searching. Then, as if nothing had happened, his grip loosened. He brushed his fingers over her wrist in a slow, mocking caress, as if smoothing over the damage.

“Good,” he murmured, before turning away.

She stood frozen in place, skin burning where his fingers had been, breath coming in short, shallow pulls.

The moment she was alone, she staggered back against the nearest surface, clutching her wrist. She could already see the faint bruises forming—shadows of his grip, a physical mark of the line she had dared to cross.

She should have fought back. She should have said something.

But all she felt was the overwhelming sensation of being trapped.

=

For the few days, she didn’t speak to Jayce or Viktor. Whenever they approached, she found an excuse to leave. It felt like she was constantly running, ducking out of hallways, slipping past the lab doors before they could call her name. Avoidance became second nature, but she could still feel them watching, waiting, their concern growing with every passing day.

Jayce was the first to try, his voice warm and inviting, the way it had always been. “Hey—Y/N, wait up!” He caught her just outside the Academy, his broad frame blocking her way. His smile was softer than usual, hesitant, as though he already knew something wasn’t right. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

She forced a laugh, shaking her head as she hugged her arms close to herself. “No, I’ve just been busy. Wedding preparations, you know how it is.”

Jayce frowned. “Right,” he said slowly, eyes flickering down to where her sleeve had slipped just enough to reveal the faintest glimpse of a dark bruise on her wrist.

His expression shifted in an instant. The easy warmth in his features drained, replaced by something hard, unreadable. “What happened?”

She quickly pulled her sleeve down, heart hammering. “Nothing. I—” She swallowed, forcing a breathy chuckle. “I fell. It’s not a big deal.”

Jayce’s frown deepened, skepticism clear in his dark eyes. He reached out, gentle but firm, fingers brushing against her wrist before she jerked away, stepping back as if burned.

“I have to go,” she blurted, turning so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. She didn’t look back as she walked away, feeling the weight of his stare follow her long after she disappeared into the city streets.

The next day, it was Viktor.

She had thought she could avoid them both, but Viktor had always been patient. He waited, watching, until the moment was right.

He found her alone in the archives, tucked between tall shelves of books, pretending to be absorbed in a text she wasn’t even reading. She barely had time to react before his cane tapped against the floor beside her, his voice quiet yet firm.

“You are hiding from us.”

She inhaled sharply but didn’t look up. “No, I—”

“Lying does not suit you.”

She flinched. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was something about the weight of his words that made her chest tighten. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and there was no mistaking the way his golden eyes settled on the faint bruise peeking out from under her sleeve.

Viktor didn’t reach for her, didn’t crowd her the way Jayce had. Instead, he simply stared, his mind clearly working, calculating.

“What happened?” he asked, softer now, but there was no missing the steel beneath it.

She forced a smile, trying to make it seem convincing. “I fell.”

There was a beat of silence between them, long and heavy.

Then Viktor tilted his head. “You are not clumsy.”

She let out a shaky breath. “I—”

“Do not insult my intelligence,” he cut in gently, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in his tone, a warning. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane, his gaze never leaving hers. “Tell me the truth.”

Her throat tightened. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to spill everything, to lean into the safety of his presence, to hear Jayce’s reassuring voice tell her that everything was going to be okay. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

She stepped back, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Viktor’s expression darkened, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. He inhaled as if about to speak, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“I have to go.”

And then she walked away. She felt his gaze burning into her back, the sound of his cane against the stone floor echoing in her mind long after she was gone.

=

The wedding day arrived, a day she had once thought would bring stability, duty, and an end to the expectations pressed upon her. But now, as she stood at the altar, her fiancé’s hand clasped over hers, all she felt was dread.

The grand hall was filled with polished faces, people dressed in their finest, murmuring their approval at what was meant to be the perfect union. Golden chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, but she felt none of its glow. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, suffocating. She had always imagined weddings to be filled with love, with warmth.

Instead, all she felt was cold.

Her fiancé squeezed her fingers, hard enough that it stung, forcing her to meet his gaze. His smile was as practiced as ever, but there was a sharpness to it, an edge only she could see. He leaned in, voice low, meant only for her ears.

“Pull down your sleeve,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly. “Cover those bruises. They’re disgusting.”

Her breath hitched, the words slamming into her like ice water down her spine. A chill crept into her chest, spreading outward, paralyzing. Her fingers trembled, the fabric of her dress feeling too tight, too restrictive.

Disgusting.

The bruises he gave her. The marks left behind from nights of soft-spoken cruelty, from fingers that gripped too hard, from reminders that she belonged to him. Disgusting.

She had lied to herself. Lied and convinced herself that this was just a duty, that she could endure it. That she had no other choice.

But she did. She always had.

Her heart pounded, blood rushing in her ears as she pulled her hand from his grasp, stepping back. The air shifted, whispers rippling through the crowd, but she didn’t hear them. All she could hear was the sound of her own breath, the way her pulse hammered as realization crashed over her.

She had to go. Now.

And then she ran.

Gasps followed her, voices rising in confusion, in outrage, but she didn’t stop. She lifted the hem of her dress and sprinted down the aisle, past rows of stunned guests, past the weight of expectation and control.

Someone called her name—her fiancé, maybe. Or her parents. But she didn’t listen. She shoved through the grand doors, bursting into the open air, the cool wind hitting her face like a slap.

She didn’t know where she was going.

But she knew exactly who she was running to.

=

The silk of the wedding dress clung to her like a ghost of a life she never wanted. A gilded cage of ivory lace and expectations. Her breath came fast, fogging the cool night air as she ran, the hem of her gown dragging through the grime of the streets. Her veil had been lost somewhere along the way, but she didn’t care. She was free. Or at least, she was trying to be.

Behind her, she could still hear the distant shouts of guards searching for their missing bride. The weight of her arranged marriage had pressed down on her for months, a slow suffocation, until she couldn’t take it anymore. Not when her heart belonged elsewhere—to two brilliant minds who had captured her in ways her fiancé never could.

Viktor and Jayce.

The thought of them made her chest ache, hope and desperation twisting together as she reached Piltover’s academy entrance. Her fiancé had always known of her affections, and that’s why he had forbidden it. Locked her away with threats of what he could do to them if she disobeyed.

But she was never the obedient type.

=

She pounded on the door to the lab, her fingers trembling from both the chill and adrenaline. Her lungs burned from running, her body aching under the weight of exhaustion, but she didn’t stop. She had nowhere else to go.

For a horrifying second, she feared they weren’t inside, that she had escaped one nightmare only to be stranded in another. But then—hurried footsteps. The familiar creak of the door swinging open.

Jayce stood in the doorway, his usual vest and rolled-up sleeves now slightly rumpled from hours of work. His eyes widened in utter disbelief as they landed on her.

“Y/N?”

She barely had time to speak before he pulled her inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. His warmth, his presence—it was a stark contrast to the cold, suffocating weight of her wedding day. His hands hovered near her shoulders, hesitant but protective, as he took in her dishevelled state. The torn fabric of her dress. The bruises peeking out from her sleeves.

“You—what the hell happened?” he asked, voice wavering between concern and panic.

She swallowed, shaking from more than just the cold. “Where’s Viktor?”

“I’m here.”

Viktor’s voice was softer, but no less urgent. He emerged from the back of the lab, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he approached. His golden eyes swept over her, taking in every detail—the ragged breaths, the way her arms clutched at herself, the marks on her skin that shouldn’t have been there. His jaw twitched, his fingers tightening around the handle of his cane.

“You ran,” he said simply. But there was something behind those words. Something raw. Something furious.

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry him.” Her voice cracked. “I needed to be here. With you two.”

Jayce exhaled a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, Y/N. He’s gonna come looking for you. He won’t just let this go.”

“I know,” she whispered, voice barely audible. “But I didn’t care. I had to take the risk.”

Viktor stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until he was within arm’s reach. He didn’t touch her—Viktor was always careful with his affections—but his presence was steadying, grounding. His eyes searched hers, looking for something, anything that would tell him she was safe now.

“You are hurt,” he murmured, his voice measured but tight. “Did he do this?”

She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. A barely-there movement, but enough. Enough for Jayce to curse under his breath, his entire body tensing beside her. Enough for Viktor’s grip on his cane to tighten so hard his knuckles turned white.

A thick silence settled between them, heavy and crackling with restrained emotion. Jayce’s breathing had turned unsteady, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he didn’t know what to do with the rage simmering inside him. Viktor, though quieter, was no less affected—his eyes burned with something dangerous, something deadly.

=

A sudden, violent crash shattered the fragile peace as the lab’s door was nearly torn from its hinges. The force sent sparks flying from the broken lock, the heavy metal door groaning as it swung inward.

Y/N’s breath caught as her fiancé strode in, flanked by armed guards, his expression twisted with fury.

“Y/N!"

Her fiancé. His voice carried the weight of humiliation, of wounded pride, of a man who had never been denied anything—until now.

Jayce was already moving, stepping in front of her with his hammer gripped tightly in his hands, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to strike. Viktor, though slower, lifted his cane just slightly, his golden eyes sharp with calculation.

“You think you can just run away from me?” Her fiancé’s voice dripped with venom. His gaze flickers between the two men before settling back on Y/N “Like some common whore scurrying off to her filthy lovers?”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at the insult, but she refused to flinch.

“Let me guess,” he sneered, taking a step closer. “You couldn’t wait to spread your legs for them, could you? You always were a little harlot, always chasing after men who have no future, no status. Do you really think they love you, Y/N? Or are you just a game to them?”

The sound of metal scraping against stone filled the air as Jayce shifted his hammer in his grip, his knuckles white from how tightly he held it. His entire body vibrated with restrained fury, muscles coiled as if he were moments away from striking. The air in the lab felt charged, humming with the tension of a battle waiting to unfold.

"Say one more word," Jayce warned, his voice low and lethal, each syllable laced with the promise of violence. "I dare you."

Viktor, though eerily calm beside him, was no less sharp. His golden eyes gleamed under the dim workshop light, his fingers flexing subtly against the head of his cane. When he spoke, his tone was smooth, his words cutting like a finely sharpened blade. "Your insecurities are showing," he observed, adjusting his grip with measured ease. "It is not a good look."

A laugh echoed from the doorway, but there was no humour in it, only bitter amusement masking barely-contained rage. Y/N’s fiancé took another step into the workshop, his sneer curling with contempt as he eyed her and the two men standing between them. His confidence, shaken but not yet shattered, dripped from every venomous syllable.

"You really think you can keep her?" He scoffed, his voice gaining a manic edge. "You think you can protect her from me?"

Y/N took a slow, deep breath, steadying herself before stepping forward, placing herself between Jayce and Viktor before either of them could make a move. Her pulse pounded in her ears, the weight of the moment pressing against her chest like a vice. She felt the heat of Jayce’s fury behind her, the quiet steel of Viktor’s presence beside her, but she did not waver. She would not let this man dictate her fate any longer.

"I was never yours to begin with." Her voice was steady despite the tremor she felt deep in her bones. Her eyes met his, unwavering, unflinching, burning with a conviction she had never spoken aloud before. "I belong to no one but myself. And I chose them."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, stretching unbearably as the weight of her words settled over the room.

And then—

"Enough."

The single word cut through the tension like a knife, sharp and commanding.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the guards at the doorway stiffened, stepping aside to make way for the man who had just spoken. A tall, imposing figure emerged from the dim light of the street outside, his heavy coat swirling as he stepped into the lab. His expression was unreadable, his face set in the kind of cold composure that sent a chill through the room.

Her father.

Her mother followed close behind him, her usual poise slightly cracked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as though trying to hold something together. The air shifted, the power in the room subtly tilting. Even the guards hesitated now, caught between their orders and the unspoken authority of the man before them.

Her fiancé, the arrogant, entitled man who had spent the night throwing insults like knives, suddenly found himself at a loss for words. His mouth opened, then closed, his gaze flickering between the older man and Y/N, realization dawning like a slow, creeping poison.

They had heard everything.

Her father’s gaze swept over the scene—the shattered door barely hanging on its hinges, the guards standing rigid at attention, Jayce and Viktor poised to defend Y/N with every ounce of their being. And finally, his eyes landed on his daughter.

"Y/N," he said, his voice calm but firm, betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. "Come here."

She did not move.

The command that once would have sent her falling into line now barely made her flinch. She was not a child anymore, not the obedient daughter who would bow her head and step forward simply because duty dictated it.

Her father studied her carefully, his sharp gaze piercing through the heavy air of the lab, and then, after a long pause, he let out a slow breath. His next words caught her completely off guard.

"Is this truly what you want?"

It was not a demand. It was not an accusation.

It was a question.

A choice.

Her hands clenched at her sides, not from fear, but from the overwhelming weight of the moment. She swallowed hard, turning her head slightly to look at Jayce, at Viktor, at the two men who had risked everything for her, who had given her a chance at something real. Jayce, all fire and passion, his heart too big for his own good, his unwavering belief in her stronger than anything she had ever known. Viktor, all quiet brilliance, his mind a fortress of calculated logic, but with a depth of understanding in his golden eyes that told her she was not just something to be protected—she was something worth standing beside.

She turned back to her father and lifted her chin. "Yes," she said, her voice steady and certain. "This is what I want."

Her father exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting away from her for the first time, moving to the two men at her side. And something in his expression—subtle, but undeniable—changed.

Because these were not nameless, lowborn men from the undercity.

Jayce Talis, co-creator of Hextech, the man who had revolutionized Piltover’s future, stood before him with an unrelenting presence, a man who had carved out his own legacy, who held power not just in name, but in action. Viktor, the brilliant mind behind it all, carried himself with quiet certainty, a man whose intelligence had shaped the very foundations of Piltover’s progress.

These were not insignificant men. They were innovators. Visionaries. Men of status. Men who had power in their own right.

Men who would protect Y/N from anything and anyone.

Her father turned back to her fiancé, the young man now pale and rigid, his confidence crumbling under the weight of the shift in power.

"The arrangement is off," her father stated coolly, leaving no room for argument.

Her fiancé gaped at him, his entire body going taut with disbelief. "You can’t be serious! She belongs to me—"

Her father’s gaze snapped back to him, sharp and unwavering. "She belongs to no one."

A tense silence filled the space, thick with the weight of finality.

Her mother finally stepped forward, her voice softer but no less firm. "You have embarrassed yourself tonight," she said plainly, her eyes sweeping over the room before she addressed the guards. "Escort him out."

There was hesitation—just for a moment—but then the guards moved. One by one, they turned on their heels, the power of status winning out over the remnants of loyalty.

Her fiancé’s face twisted in fury, his lip curling as he cast one last glare in Y/N’s direction. "You’ll regret this," he hissed, his words a desperate attempt at control.

Jayce stepped forward, his hammer still in hand, his body coiled like a predator ready to strike. "Try to come near her again and see what happens."

Viktor didn’t move, but his voice, soft and deliberate, held an edge sharper than steel. "I assure you, it would not end well for you."

The last flicker of arrogance drained from her fiancé’s expression. He had lost. He knew it. With a growl of frustration, he turned on his heel and stormed out, his boots echoing loudly against the stone floor.

The moment the door shut behind him, the room seemed to exhale.

Y/N’s knees felt weak, but before she could stumble, Jayce was already at her side, steadying her with a hand on her back. Viktor exhaled beside them, adjusting his grip on his cane, his expression unreadable but not unkind.

Her mother reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear. "You always were stubborn," she murmured. "You could have just told us."

A breathless laugh escaped Y/N’s lips. "Would you have listened?"

Her mother did not answer. But the silence spoke volumes. As her parents turned away, Y/N looked up at Jayce and Viktor. Relief, exhaustion, love—all of it tangled together inside her.

She had won.

She had chosen her own future.

And she had no regrets.

[gurugirl]

The Big Tease | bfd!harry

*photo is for t-shirt placement visual only. please picture who you like as reader.

best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au

Summary: based loosely on this request - Harry comes to your place to make sure you're taking care of yourself and you find that as hard as you try to tease him, he's not giving in to you and then some high emotions are exposed.

Word Count: 7.8k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, age gap, cheating

bfd!harry masterlist

You tried not to feel guilty about what you were doing with a married man. Your best friend’s dad. It was hard when it came to keeping it a secret from everyone. Keeping it a secret from Fae.

“Where’d you get this?” Fae brushed her fingers over the pretty little bracelet Mr. Styles gave you a few nights before. It was gold with three round light-colored opals in the center and two round-cut tiny diamonds on either side. It was dainty and sweet and you knew it was expensive after googling the brand and finding the exact item available online and in high-end shops nearby.

“Ahh… my mom and dad got it for me a while ago. Just haven’t worn it in a long time. Forgot it about,” you lied with a shrug. Lying to her made you nauseous.

“Really? How could you forget about this? It’s gorgeous! Looks really pretty on you too,” she complimented and you frowned as you looked down at it.

You hated lying to your best friend. But what could you do? You certainly wouldn’t admit to your affair with her father. And of course, you weren’t quite feeling guilty enough to put an end to it either. Mr. Styles was the best you’d ever had and you were completely smitten with him.

When you two finally made it back to your apartment after shopping and eating and stopping at the ice cream shop for a treat you’d also forgotten all the lovely flowers you had sitting around your living room and kitchen.

It had also become a thing where you’d get the most exquisite bouquets delivered to you every Monday morning. Peonies, roses, phalaenopsis orchids, and gardenias all stuffed with hardly any filler. You knew the bouquets he was sending you were hundreds of dollars a pop. But they were breathtaking.

You quickly assessed in your mind whether or not you’d removed the cards from them which would have given everything away should Fae see. Unlocking your door and letting yourself in first you quickly glanced around and the freshest bouquet clearly still had its card poking out of it. You made a beeline across the room as Fae closed your door behind her and plucked the tiny card out, crumpling it in your hand, and then bent down next to the table to pretend you were doing something else.

“Those are so pretty, Y/n. Oh my god. Do you have a flower service or something?”

You had three bouquets placed around your living room. One was clearly old and some of the flowers were drooping, losing their vibrant colors, while the newer ones were full of soft pinks and purples, crisp white and cream…

“Yes. I decided to start treating myself to nice flowers every week.” You smiled. Another lie. You couldn’t afford a weekly delivery of these kinds of flowers and if Fae bothered to research how expensive bouquets like this were she’d have questioned you further. But luckily she didn’t.

The bracelet, the flowers, your glow… all things she noticed, could have been an indicator of a lover but as far as you could tell she hadn’t connected the dots. Or at least she didn’t voice it to you.

Of course, everything could be explained. But she was your best friend. If you weren’t more vigilant, she’d be catching on soon, you were sure.

.           .           .

The following day after a morning shift at the restaurant you arrived home and collapsed on your couch. It was exhausting. The restaurant was only open for breakfast and brunch on the weekend (where normally it’s only a dinner spot the rest of the week) and it was slammed. Mimosas, eggs benedict, fancy French tarts, and pastries, huge parties of people, music, guests nursing hangovers… The restaurant was well known for its weekend breakfast and brunch with bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. The clientele were usually upper-class folks who didn’t mind spending $35 for their mimosa and then only ordering 2 when they could have had as many as they wanted. A local creamery provided butter, yogurt, and milk for your special breakfast dishes, and a bowl of fancy yogurt and some in-house granola was $15. The cheapest food item on the breakfast menu. The cheapest item on the menu was a cup of black coffee, refillable. Unless you ordered the free tap water.

You got lucky to eat anything while you served breakfast. It was typically too busy to take a bite of anything. But the tips were excellent because everyone was usually in a great mood.

You were startled awake by your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing you’d closed your eyes.

Pulling the phone out from under your body you realized it was Harry calling you (he normally didn’t call unless it was prearranged).

“Hello?” You sat up as you answered.

“Baby! I was worried. Are you okay? I didn’t hear back from you.”

Harry had a thing where he wanted you to text him when you got home from work to let him know you made it safely, even if it was a morning shift. He was always so worried about you but you kind of loved it.

“I’m fine. Sorry! I fell asleep as soon as I sat down on the couch. God, I’m so exhausted. Fae was here late last night and then I had the breakfast shift so I only had like four hours of sleep…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just worried. I texted you and then never heard back. Just started to panic. Have you eaten?”

You smiled and his soft deep voice made you feel so comfortable and safe, “I haven’t eaten yet. I had a bit at work but just passed out as soon as I got here.”

“So you’ve only had something to eat at work? It’s already dinnertime, Y/n.”

Harry did have a tendency to sort of scold you like he was your dad. Maybe it was ingrained in him in some ways. To try and take care of you and remind you to do things like eat.

“Geez, Dad. I’ll get right on it,” you teased.

Harry was silent for a moment, which had you worried. Perhaps calling him ‘dad’ had been unwise.

But then suddenly his voice broke through the line, “I’m coming over. I have a feeling you don’t have any groceries and I’m gonna make you dinner. Something to eat.”

You scoffed, “I mean… I have food here. I will eat. You don’t have–“

“I’ll be there within an hour,” he interrupted and you nodded to yourself.

“O… Okay. Um… yeah. In an hour.”

.           .           .

You quickly showered and tossed your dirty clothes into your clothes hamper so they weren’t strewn about your bedroom floor. You tidied up and kept yourself busy until he finally arrived. You were getting all worked up knowing he was coming over.

You didn’t know what he had been telling Mrs. Styles about why he was leaving or when he’d stay with you overnight, or spend hours in your bed every week. Though there were times he could only come over quickly, most of the time he stayed with you long enough that he’d need a good cover story. You kind of hoped you could have him for the night.

When he knocked at your door and you opened it up for him you saw he had his hands full. One arm around a sack of groceries and in his other hand the bag he normally packed for when he was staying the night.

You smiled when you saw his handsome face and ushered him into your small apartment. He leaned in to kiss you quickly, “Just showered?” He asked.

“Well yeah,” you spoke as you closed the door and followed behind him to your kitchen, “I didn’t have the chance earlier because I fell asleep as you know,” you laughed.

“Mmhmm…” he grunted affirmatively as he began to remove the grocery items from the bag one by one.

You saw tomatoes, fresh basil, flour, mushrooms, cheese…

“What are you making?” You picked up the container of buffalo mozzarella and then looked at Harry.

“Margherita pizza. One of my favorite little recipes my mom used to make.”

You placed the container down, pulled his arm to drag him toward you, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.

He immediately paused what he was doing and wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss and then giving you a taste of his tongue.

But then he pulled away with his signature teasing smirk and went back to his task.

“You brought your bag. Gonna stay the night with me?”

He nodded as he folded the paper bag up neatly and then looked at you, “If that’s okay. Have to leave early, though.”

If that’s okay.

You laughed to yourself and nodded, “Of course, it’s okay, Harry. God, what I wouldn’t give to have you with me every–“ You stopped what you saying when you realized how suddenly serious that thought was. You did want him every night. You wanted him to yourself but you hadn’t discussed that with him before.

Harry placed the neatly folded paper bag down on your little counter and then pulled you back toward him with his hands on your hips, “Yeah? Every…? What? Every night? Want me every night, baby?” That same sneaky, devious smirk on his face had you melting and warm.

“I just meant, you’re always welcome,” you slid your hands up his chest and bit your lip. You were a little embarrassed that you admitted that but it was obviously too late now.

“I’m always welcome or you want me every night? Which is it?” He gripped you harder so you couldn’t escape his questions, his gaze.

You puffed a breath out through your lips with a laugh, “Both.”

He loosened his grip and brought a hand to your face, his eyes fixed to yours, “Both. I’d much prefer to be here with you every night too. Would if I could.” The thumb that trailed over your cheekbone and to your temple was soft and loving. You knew he meant what he said.

Harry’s pizza was superb. Your oven wasn’t quite right, he kept saying as he baked it but to you, it was the best thing that had ever come out of that cheap appliance.

“Usually like to make this in a brick oven. The one I’ve got in my backyard, but this will do in a pinch I suppose.”

Your mouth was full as you nodded, “So good.”

Harry laughed at your stuffed cheeks and the way you were gobbling down what he’d made.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?” You asked him finally when you’d swallowed your bite. He’d only had one slice.

“Already had dinner. But I wanted to feed you. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

For some reason with a tummy full of Harry’s pizza and the kind gesture of his cooking to help take care of you had you reeling and needing more than just food.

Of course, it would have been impolite to just abandon cleanup but you were suddenly aware of how his sleeves were pushed up his forearms and how his dimples were extra deep accompanying his attractive smile. And his hair looked too tidy, you needed to get your hands in it. Needed to get him out of his clothes. Get those long fingers around your neck and touching your body immediately.

You set your plate down on the small kitchen table you were both sitting at and slid your hand up his thigh, “Oh is that why you came over here? The only reason?” You grinned and he leaned back into his chair and looked at you, keeping his own grin in check.

“Need to make sure my girl is healthy. Has everything she needs.”

“Yeah? And sometimes I need more than just food too, Mr. Styles.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs slightly as you continued moving your hand upward, “Oh I know, sweet girl. You need a lot of things, don’t you?”

You nodded, “What about you? Do you need things too? From me? Anything I can help you with?”

Now his grin was breaking out over his face but it was cheeky, playful, “Of course I do.”

But he wasn’t giving in to your little game. He liked having you be the one to ask for it. You didn’t know why but he loved hearing you beg him. You always resisted begging. At first anyway. Sometimes he’d give in without you needing to.

“And what do you need from me?” You stopped short of putting your fingers over where you knew he was tucked under his pants. The obvious natural bulge he sported giving away where he normally liked to position himself.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, love. But I’m here because you needed to eat first and foremost. And you needed some groceries.”

You laughed and skipped over his lovely cock and put your hand up to his chest, scooting your chair in a little closer, “I’ll give you anything you want, sir. All you have to do is ask.”

Harry smiled and licked his lips slowly, “I’m as content as I can be here with you right now. Could sit here all night listening to you talk. S’that what you want? Want to touch my chest,” he flitted his eyes down to where your hand was before looking back into your eyes, “and my thighs, and chat all night about my pizza making skills and your lack of healthy food?”

You folded your lips into your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. He was playing a game of chicken with you. You really wanted to win this time.

“Well, that does sound really nice. You’ve filled me up so good with your yummy pizza. Guess I don’t need anything more than stimulating conversation with you if that’s all you’re interested in.”

Harry swallowed and breathed a laugh out of his nose, “Fine. Pizza and conversation it is.”

You wanted to huff in frustration. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, just under where your fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t giving in. But you had a thought.

“I’ll be right back.”

You hopped up from the chair and pranced to your bedroom. If he wanted to tease so would you. Stripping off your sweats you dug out your thin white Hey Lover t-shirt and tied it up just under the center of your breasts, and black cheeky boy short panties. You’d pretend you were only getting comfy since it was already late in the evening. He’d know what you were up to but you could play it off like you just wanted to get into your comfy house clothes.

When you got back to the kitchen Harry was already cleaning up.

“Hey, let’s do that later. Wanna sit and talk a bit.”

Harry tsked you, his back still turned as he wrapped up the rest of the pizza in foil, “I worked hard on this. Don’t want it to go bad. You can go sit–“ when he finally turned his full gaze back to you he stopped mid-sentence. You saw his jaw clench and his nostrils flair.

Not fair. That was not fair of you.

You knew your top especially was going to drive him mad. It was thin and your nipples were poking through the material and he could certainly see the shadow of the deeper color of your areolas popping through.

And he did. You noted where his eyes roamed, pausing over your tits for a good few seconds before licking his lips and turning back around to finish his job.

“Go sit.” He said without a single note of sweetness or desire.

You smiled to yourself as you walked into the living room and sat on your couch. Putting on a little music you selected a good little playlist that you knew he’d like.

Trying to act as unbothered as you possibly could you found a comfortable position on the couch and leaned into your cushions as you waited for Mr. Styles to join you.

It wasn’t long before he was casually strolling into the living room and sitting on the couch, leaving a few feet between you two. He draped an ankle over his knee and sat back, looking totally cool and unbothered.

You stretched and gathered your hair into your hands to expose your neck as you spoke, “So, how was your day today, Mr. Styles? You already know all about mine.”

Harry nodded slowly as he looked at you, keeping his eyes on your face, “Normal. Woke up and worked out, read an article, and played some golf with a colleague. That’s it really. Now here I am feeding you and entertaining you with conversation,” he grinned and you saw his eyes quickly take in your neck.

You smiled and sighed, “Sounds nice. I’ve played golf a few times. I’m terrible at it, though. Once a guy who took me tried to straighten out my stance but it did no good. No matter how many times he helped me adjust my grip or pushed my legs to spread them out properly it just didn’t work,” you chuckled. It was true. You’d gone with a guy a couple of years back on a date. He was flirting with you when he tried showing you the proper way to stand and hold the club but it turned into making out in the golf cart and a quick fuck in his car before he dropped you at home.

“S’that so? He probably wasn’t a good player either if he couldn’t give you any tips to help you improve your game.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I think he was more interested in getting my clothes off than anything,” you kept your eyes on his to asses but there was nothing there that indicated jealousy.

You had to amp it up. Do something to make him lose it. Wanted to watch him thicken up in his pants.

Dropping your hair you tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face Harry. You knew he was trying his hardest not to let his eyes drop below your neck. He knew he’d be fucked if he took in the way the soft cotton stretched over your breasts.

“Anyway. Are you any good?” You allowed your own eyes to take him in fully. His composure was sure to falter at some point.

“Yeah. I’m all right. I can hold my own.”

His short answer was not exactly what you were hoping for but you didn’t let it deter you. For some reason, his standoffish behavior was getting you even more worked up.

“Bet you can hold your own. You’re just so naturally good at everything you do,” you moved your finger over your tummy, keeping your eyes on his, “I know first-hand.”

Harry raised his brows and the movement of your hand over your torso and then down toward the top of your panties had him dropping his sight to where you were softly ghosting your fingers along the elastic band. You tugged at the knot on your shirt before moving your hand back up toward your chest, your thumb pressed between your thin cotton t-shirt-covered tits.

He watched your fingers and then looked back up at you, “Do you? And what do you know of my skills?” He smiled softly. Still appearing totally unbothered.

You sighed and tilted your head, keeping your eyes on his before stretching your arms over your head and allowing your shirt to lift the tiniest bit, revealing the bottom of your breasts. You only put your arms down once you were satisfied that Mr. Styles had gotten a good look, “Well, for example, you just made me a pizza that was to die for. Also, you recently got promoted at work and now you’re some big shot,” you unfolded a leg from underneath your bum and stretched it out, pressing your bare foot onto Harry’s thigh, “And I’ve seen you work out,” you nudged his muscled thigh, “You put men half your age to shame. You’re so athletic…” you began to pull your foot away but Harry gripped your ankle and pulled your leg to drape over his thigh making you smile in triumph.  Though you’d not yet won this round, he was clearly giving in to you bit by bit.

“Hmmm…” Harry nodded and hummed quietly. He kept his hand on your shin and his eyes a safe distance from anything below your chin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things. Can make you dribble all over your chin by just pulling my pants down,” he licked his lips, “Feel like that’s a great skill of mine. What else…” his hand began to brush over your leg softly and you scoffed at him but of course, he was right. You both knew it. He made you drool and whiney and hot. He didn’t even have to do anything.

“That was one time. And you had your fingers in my mouth. It wasn’t because of your cock,” you lied. Well, his fingers in your mouth did have you drool down your chin and when he pulled his pants down, he teasingly pointed out how your chin was shiny and you’d dripped saliva down your neck and to your chest.

“No? Hmmm… but you were so desperate to get it in your mouth that you tried grabbing me and when I told you to be patient you whined and drooled all over the floor. You can pretend all you want, little girl. I see what you’re trying to do.”

You watched as his hand traveled up your leg and past your knee to your thigh, “Wearing this little getup… trying to seduce me. So desperate for me. But you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than this, Y/n. You can lie to yourself and pretend you're not bothered and change the subject and show me your pretty tits all you want. S’not gonna change the fact that you’re gonna wind up a messy little puddle begging me for anything I’ll give you. Isn’t that right?”

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock. He was right. But you weren’t ready to give up yet.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Styles. I know you like having your ego stroked. So go ahead and keep telling yourself that you’ve got the upper hand. We both know you’re already folding. I can sit here all night and chat with you like this if you want. Doesn’t bother me one bit.” You folded your arms across your chest with a grin.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head. You were fun. He loved these moments with you. Loved giving you a hard time. Loved when you gave him a hard time. He softly pinched the inside of your thigh and you laughed, attempting to pull your leg away but he held you in place, large palms keeping your leg over him, fingers digging into your skin.

“Darling, you forget who you’re dealing with. I’m not the one resorting to skimpy clothes and trying to hide how turned-on I am. I see you trying to keep your legs pressed together. Hiding something,” he jutted his chin toward you and looked over the spot between your legs where he knew your panties covered up a tiny secret.

You wore black panties on purpose. Any wetness would be easier to hide, but keeping your legs pressed together could ensure he didn’t see the wet patch that had begun to spread. However, the way he was holding your leg over his lap made it quite difficult for you to not open your thighs a little.

“You just love to imagine that you’ve got me all bothered. But you’re wrong. I’m totally fine.”

Harry smiled and pulled at your leg further, causing a small yelp to slip out from your mouth followed by a tiny bit of laughter at the way you lost balance when you were pulled toward him, your other leg being tugged at to drape over his thigh.

“Good. Then we can just sit here and talk about the weather and maybe politics if you’re into that. Or is there another topic you had in mind since you’re so keen on just sitting chatting all night?”

You steadied yourself, back against the cushion as you pressed your legs together again and looked up at him innocently, “Randy called me the other day. Said he missed me. Apologized for being rude when we were together. That was nice to hear. The apology,” you wiggled your hips to fix your seating so you could appear more casual, despite having your legs in Harry’s possession over his lap.

Harry’s large palms ran up the outer sides of your thighs slowly before dragging back down to just above your knees, keeping his eyes on yours, “Oh really? Thinking about getting back with him then?” He spoke trying to tamper the playful smile on his face.

You snorted a laugh and grinned teasingly, drawing your fingers across your breasts, “Nahh… I can do better. I mean… maybe if I’m desperate and just need to scratch an itch. You know? Being a single girl gets hard at times. My dildo is only gonna give me a small taste of what a man can. Even if he’s not great in bed.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he nodded with dark eyes, “Would be such a shame to waste a good fuck on Rudy like that when you’ve got me at the helm. Of course, you're too stubborn to admit it. All you have to do is ask.”

 You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap with a pout, “Randy. His name is Randy. But anyway… I don’t have to beg Randy to fuck me. He’s never pretended he was unbothered by me. Always quite straightforward really. If he wanted sex all he had to do was tell me. You on the other hand,” you poked your finger into his arm, “like making it hard for me, which is quite impolite. So I’m okay with not having sex if you just aren’t up for it.”

Harry pushed a laugh out through his nose at your tease, “Rudy sounds like a fucking bore. And he never gave you an orgasm. Either you have really bad taste or you’re just a tease. I have a feeling I know which it is, too. Little girl likes to play games. I can play games if you want. But you know I’m gonna win.”

You knew he was right. You wanted his cock but he wasn’t budging. All you had to do was admit it. Ask him politely. And you would when you couldn’t handle it any longer but you were having fun and the back and forth was like foreplay for you.

He kept one hand grasped around the outside of your thigh while his other smoothed inward, fingers pushing your thighs apart the tiniest bit and then gently dancing upward. If he moved his fingers too far up he’d feel how damp you were already.

“I’m not playing games,” you spoke matter-of-factly, watching as his hand traveled over your skin, “I can just tell maybe you’re tired Perhaps you’ve had a long day and it’s almost bedtime for you. I mean I get it,” you laughed in preparation for what you were about to say, “When you get to be your age things just slow down a little. It’s okay if you’re not up for it tonight, sir.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and closed his eyes as he laughed at your attempt to provoke him.

When he looked back at you his expression was serious as he pried your legs apart, swiping the pad of his pointer finger right over the wet material of your panties and raised his brows as if he was shocked. Though you knew he was goading you, “You know goddamn well that my age has nothing to do with my libido. Difference between me and you is that I have incredible willpower and I know that you’re gonna be begging me to stuff your pussy before the night is over.”

You laughed and shook your head, “Nope.”

Harry pressed his thumb right over where your clit was already aching and grinned, “Yep.” Popping the p for emphasis. “See I’ve already got you soaking your panties. Goosebumps on your legs. Your nipples are hard. Your face is warm. I bet your heart is pounding too, just wishing you were getting the life fucked out of you right now. And you could be,” he spoke lowly as he slid a finger under the fabric of your panties and smoothed it over your skin, but not touching your crease or your clit like you hoped, “If you just admit it.”

You noticed that his cock had plumped under his pants. A good sign, you figured, “Nothing to admit. I might be turned on but I can hold out. In fact, I’d bet you’re not in much better shape with your cock swelling up like it is. You need this wet pussy to soothe that big dick, don’t you?”

Harry’s undisturbed body language was a concern because even though his prick was growing harder by the minute, you were starting to boil while he still seemed unphased.

“Oh, honey…” Harry smiled at you like you were a pitiful thing, “I’m doing just fine. In fact, probably just gonna fuck my own fist before we go to bed since you’re so stubborn. Maybe I’ll let you watch me too. I’ll be just fine. Just love being here with you. We don’t always have to have sex.”

You clenched your jaw and huffed imagining that scene. Having Harry yank his cock with his big hand until he was coming on your floor. You’d want to lick it up off the floor too. Scoop it all up and swallow it down. He had you obsessed with his come. Well, with him in general.

You tried to think of something to say but your brain was stuck on the image of him slowly stroking his fat cock and saying filthy shit to you while you tried to hold it together and not give in to your own urges.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Harry lifted a hand to your face and brushed his thumb along your jaw and up over your cheek, “Need to tell me something?”

Your lips parted and you breathed out a small whimper and squished your eyes closed. Your determination was crumbling with his soft touches.

“S’okay. If you don’t mind,” Harry pushed your legs off of him and quickly began to unbutton his pants, “S’getting tight in there…” he pulled his pants down just a touch so that the bulge under his briefs was now poking out and he had a bit more space to breathe.

He pressed over his erection and straightened himself out and suddenly the tip of his cock was peeking out over the band of Calvin Kleins. You closed your eyes again and tried to will yourself to not give in to him. But what was fair was fair. You were teasing him with your body and now he was returning the favor.

When you heard Harry chuckle you opened your eyes to look at him and your head was fuzzy. He was literally mouth-watering. He’d unbuttoned his shirt so you could see his tattoos and the large erection poking out from his briefs was like an actual cherry on top of it all. You licked your lips and swallowed down your saliva as you stared at his swollen head. It looked like something you could just pop into your mouth and suckle on if you weren’t so stubborn.

But Harry loved how stubborn you were. You really did make him work for it. You were exciting and sweet and he loved the way you teased him.

“If you want some you can have some, sweetheart. I know you’d like a taste. S’right there for you if you just ask politely.”

You groaned and looked away from him but your eyes were burning and all you could think about was straddling his lap and pushing his briefs down so you could fuck yourself on him. You were actually vibrating and pulsing you were so turned on.

And when you thought about it all… how this was all just a game anyway. How you both knew you’d end up with his come dribbling out of your cunt and satisfied and fucked out before you went to bed you laughed, “Fuck it…” you said as you crawled yourself over his lap and Harry’s hands found your hips, “I want you. Okay? You win.”

He had a pleased smile on his face when he felt you press your soaked panties over his briefs and plaster your lips over his in finality.

He would have laughed and teased you for giving in but he was thankful you did. Because he was aching for you.

You were desperate too. You pulled away from the kiss and put your hands down to his briefs and pushed at the material before sliding the crotch of your panties to the side and letting your wet hole kiss his tip softly as you looked into his eyes, “Can I please have it?”

Harry’s smirk fell from his face the moment you began to lower yourself, coating him in your slick arousal, “Yes. Take what you want. Fuck…”

The music was soft and you could barely hear the lyrics as you began to work yourself down and up along his length. You moaned as you felt him poke deep and keened, sucking in a sharp breath, “So thick…” you panted.

You were wetting Harry’s briefs and the tops of his pants but he didn’t care in that moment. He’d take care of the issue after you were done, “Yeah? Needed to stuff yourself with my cock didn’t you darling? Feels good?”

You nodded and held onto the back of the couch as Harry moved his hands from your hips up to the bottom hem of your top and pushed the material up so he could finally look at your pretty breasts. His favorite. He leaned in and suckled your tit into your mouth and you gasped softly.

You began to ride him a little faster, sticky slick noises coming from between your bodies as you writhed up and down his cock.

“Harry!” You shouted his name in a desperate plea. You didn’t know what you were pleading for but you just wanted more. His tongue and lips and teeth on your tits and his heavy, hard dick inside of you were really all a girl could ask for.

Harry moaned and licked over the spot he nipped next to your nipple and moved his lips over your soft flesh as he spoke, “Poor thing… so needy for me. Should have just given in the first time I told you to, baby.”

The couch under you squeaked gently as you rose and fell over him. The relief of having him inside of you had you tearing up.

Harry tilted his head back to look at your face. And just as he expected you were completely insatiable. Your expression was hungry and lusty with your lips parted, a pained look across your features.

Harry cooed at you and slid his hands up from your soft breasts to cup your face and make you kiss him. Your mouths moved together slowly as you shifted over him, slowing down a little now that your mouths were connected.

Harry pulled away, keeping his hands at your face, “Slow down a little bit. Here…” he dropped one hand to your hip and stilled you, pushing you down all the way over his shaft until you were firmly seated in his lap and his tip was stuffed so far inside of you it hurt making you whine and quiver.

“Like that. Just sit and feel me. No need to hurry. Gonna always take care of you. Okay?” His lips pressed over yours again and you moaned into his mouth.

You acted as if you were starved. You canted your hips slightly to glide your clit against his pelvic bone and he gasped and pulled away again, “I know you need it, baby. Just slow down. You were so desperate weren’t you?” He thumbed at your cheek and wiped your tears with a grin, “Always my good girl. Aren’t you?”

You bit your lips and whimpered as you nodded. You felt like a pathetic girl. It was like the moment his cock was inside of you all your good sense flew out the window and you were a melty, needy puppy in despair, deprived of attention and love. You needed more and more and more every time he entered you. It only got worse as the months crawled on and your affair got more serious.

“I wanna be your only good girl. Please…” You slid your shaky fingers into his hair and smoothed your lips over his with a tremulous breath.

Harry rocked upward, dipping into your sensitive insides and you gasped again, parting your lips from his.

“Look at me, Y/n…” Harry spoke as he moved a hand to the back of your neck.

You locked eyes with him and your sad little pout had him leaning in to give you a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth before he looked back into your eyes, “You’re my good girl. No one else. Just you, baby. Understood?”

You nodded and sniffled, “But I’m not,” You jutted your bottom lip out like a child and felt ridiculous. You didn’t know what had you so emotional suddenly. Maybe it was the build-up and all the teasing. Or the way you always gave in to him and he was so cool and secure in himself while you were shaky and desperate.

Harry moved a hand down your back and kept his other hand brushing softly over your cheekbone, “Yes you are. You’re mine. You’re my only.”

You didn’t want to say it. Hated to bring it up but you couldn’t help it or you thought you’d explode if you didn’t tell the truth, “But you’re married. I might be yours but you’re not mine.”

He hadn’t quite expected it. You knew the situation. He couldn’t just leave his wife of 20+ years. It didn’t work that way. But to hear you say it was… well it gave him pause.

“Okay. I am married. But I’m here with you right now, Y/n. Because I’d rather be here with you. Wish I could be here every night. And I would if I could.”

You nodded. You knew he’d prefer to fuck you rather than his wife. That part was understood. But he’d never actually choose you over her when it came down to it. “I know. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just… I’m starting to…” You swallowed the words your heart wanted to reveal but you stopped, “Just want to see you more I think. Once a week or every other week isn’t good for me. Need you more. I think that’ll make me better. I’m sorry… I don’t know –“

Harry shushed you and stroked your back softly, “I want to see you more too, baby. Should we think of a way to make it twice or three times a week even? Will that make it better?”

You smiled and nodded, “Three times a week? Oh my god…” You kissed him and squealed at the idea of having him three times a week.

Harry laughed and nodded, “If it makes you happy. Didn’t know you needed more, honey. Didn’t want to make you sick of me.”

You laughed in return and shook your head, “I could never be sick of you, Harry. I’m…” You stopped yourself once again. The words on the tip of your tongue but that wouldn’t be fair. To you nor to him. “I’m happy you want that too.”

Harry’s fingers on your face felt soft and comforting, “Of course I want that. I want you happy. And that would make me happier too.”

You felt dizzy with love and excitement as you pasted your lips to his and began to rock your hips slowly again.

You knew you were selfish. Knew you were getting in too deep but you didn’t care. Maybe down the road one day it would hurt but for now, you would be happy with anything he gave you.

Suddenly Harry shifted and brought his arm to cradle you close as he laid you down flat on the couch, his thick cock still inside of you. But now he was hovering over you with a dark smile on his face, “I need to fuck you like you’re mine. Show you I mean it,” he said as he pulled your legs up, calves pressed over his shoulders, and began to roll his hips into you. The springs in the couch cushions danced under your back and creaked as he picked up the pace.

You coughed out a moan and squished your exposed tits together. You still had on your shirt, tugged up above your tits, and your underwear, and Harry still had his clothes on, while his shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were down past his bottom. You were both the picture of neediness, not even bothering to take the time to undress fully.

Harry held onto the back of your thighs as he plunged in and pulled back to his tip, before plowing his cock into the hilt again. Every time his hips met the back of your thighs the sticky sound of your arousal on his cock was unmistakable.

He swatted at your thigh when you began to slip from his hold, your leg wobbling free from his shoulder, “Stay put. Keep your legs up,” he grunted.

You gasped and nodded, “Yes, sir…”

Every dip of himself into you felt divine. His cock pushing into your insides and slipping into your guts repeatedly was noisy and delicious.

Harry moaned, unable to hold back how good it felt to be inside of you.

You looked up at him and saw how gone he was. His soft raspberry lips were parted and his eyes were dark as he gasped and panted. His thrusts were becoming harder and sloppier and he was breathing hard. You wanted his come.

“Need it, Harry. Give it to me…” you whispered as you brought a hand up to his jaw and he kept his eyes on you. He was shaking with desire you could feel it.

“Fuck, honey…” he groaned and clenched his jaw. He wanted to make you come first but his own emotions were getting him keyed up and he was already leaking a steady stream of pre-come into your pussy with each stroke.

He stopped his motions and sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered a hand to your clit, “Need you to come first, okay? Then I’m gonna fill your pussy like you need, baby.”

With his thumb on your clit you cooed in ecstasy. You had no idea what you were saying as you felt electricity begin to thrum through your body, winding its way around your ribs and down your spine, and into your tummy where sparks began to turn to fire as he began thrusting into you again.

“Want you to fuck your come deep into my womb. Breed my pussy, sir…” You moaned your words unable to stop it.

Harry grunted and he popped his eyes open to look down at you in shock. He knew you were on birth control and knew it was highly improbable but still, your words had him reeling and feeding his breeding kink, something that had been dormant for many years. You tended to awaken old feelings he once relished in.

And he wasn’t sure if he actually want to get you knocked up but just hearing that fed into something deep and instinctual that had been pushed down. Something primal. You had unleashed a tsunami of emotions and now this?

He began to hammer into you and your legs fell from his shoulders as he fucked himself down into you so hard you saw stars and you gurgled as you came around him, unable to voice your dirty thoughts as your pussy pulsed and squeezed around him.

“Fuck!” Harry barked loudly when he felt you come and he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you’d tapped into, “Gonna knock you up. Fuck you til your all bred and full with my cock and my babies. That what you want? Stuffed full of me in every fucking way?”

Harry throbbed as he finally poured into you, pushing his cock into you as deep as he could manage, balls tucked up against your bum as he whimpered with each tight roll of his hips upward. Imagining his come seeping into you and having it stick. Getting you pregnant. Making you his forever.

He collapsed over you and slid his tongue into your mouth as you brought your arms around his back to keep him close.

Pure hedonistic, rapturous oblivion.

Your heart pounded as he kissed you and you felt him trembling in your arms just as you were in his.

You longed to speak the words you knew you felt but it wasn’t right. You’d want him to say it first. Wanted him to admit it. Wanted him to want you.

But Harry was feeling it all heavy and deeply just the same. His own longing to show you exactly what he felt and that even though he’d play off those words he spoke as he came inside of you, he meant it in a way. He’d love to see you pregnant with his babies. Have you as his own for good. Tell you what he felt deep down.

You smiled into the kiss and Harry pushed himself up to look down at you.

“Just what I needed, Harry. Always know how to make me feel so so good.” You pushed your fingers into his hair and gazed into his pretty eyes and watched as his grin widened.

“Mmm… Ditto. Need you more than just once a week, baby. I did mean that you know.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes to let that idea sink in a bit. Harry grunted as he moved and you suddenly felt a pinch at the back of your thigh and you laughed, opening your eyes.

“Did you hear me?”

You nodded, “Yes, sir. Three times a week is what you said. That sounds like as close to perfection as I could ask for.”

Harry nudged his nose to yours and let out a soft breath, “Just want more of you, baby.”

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[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

[misserabella]

i want to hear you scream

tsunderes abby and ellie! x fem! reader

synopsis; strange and gory murders have been going on in your town. it’s one night alone at your home that you discover the reason behind this slashers, and the identity of those behind the mask.

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, murders of characters, description of stabbing and gore, slashers, knives, blood, death of fictional characters, chasing, fear, kissing, making out sessions, dirty talking, teasing, pleading and begging, prey kink (?), use of y/n (i’m sorry but it was needed) but mostly of nicknames like doll, princess and baby, threats, knife kink (?), dom! abby and ellie x sub! reader, nipple and boob play, fingering, face riding, oral sex (r and abby receiving), strap on use (r! receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, spanking, choking, sick obsession, abby and ellie are tsunderes for reader, abby and ellie make out (😍), degradation and praise, praise kink, cum eating, ellie and abby use reader like a toy…

a/n; i’ve spent three days on this. it’s been hard and i hope all of you really like this halloween special. have lots of fun and be safe this halloween! love you! also special thanks to @atomicami and @abbyscherry for cheering me up so much ily!!!🩷

“this is so horrible…” you told your best friend dina as you watched the news. harry, a guy from your high school had been murdered. he was the fourth victim in the hands of this terrible murderer called ghost face. your high school had cancelled its classes in hope to make its students safer, to no avail and luck it seemed, since every morning a new body appeared.

“shit! he gutted him up!” dina yelled, eyes widened as she stared at the screen, now showing harry with his abdomen open, intestines hanging and in full display. you looked away, incapable to look.

“why a he? it could be a girl.” you said, and dina looked at you.

“could you gut a guy up? are you the killer?!” she jumped and you shook your head.

“i slept with you last night!”

“maybe you snuck out and killed harry!” you frowned.

“why would i do that?”

“for how he treated you last year, remember? when you turned him down and then went bragging about having fucked you and saying ‘how much of a slut you were’.” she explained. “it seems reasonable to me.”

“you’re right… and you’re next!” you screamed as you jumped on her, making her laugh as you tickled her.

“okay, okay! i surrender!” she struggled in between chuckles and you pulled away, letting her breath.

that was when your phone pinged with a new notification. you sighed when you saw who it was coming from.

“who’s that?” dina inquired, peeking from your side to get a glimpse of the screen. “ugh. liam? again?! he is fucking obsessed.”

“i know. i don’t know why he keeps trying. i already told him i don’t go for boys but he won’t stop.” you rolled your eyes, leaving your phone aside. “by the way, didn’t you have to go meet up with jesse?” you remembered, to what your friend gasped.

“oh my god i’m so late!!!” she jumped out of the couch, putting on her shoes. “when are your parents getting home?” she asked.

“not for another couple of days.”

“wait. should i stay with you? i’m not sure you should be left alone… do you want me to stay?” you shook your head.

“no! no! i’ll be alright. i promise.” she didn’t move, to why you got up and pushed her slightly so she’d start moving towards the door. “go! jesse is waiting for you.”

she groaned. “okay! but promise me you’ll stay safe!” she said and you nodded, opening the door for her, your fuzzy socks against the hardwood floor.

“i promise. you too please.” she nodded, and gave you a tight hug.

“lock the doors!” she yelled as she made her way back to her car.

“don’t trust the love interest!” you yelled back and she funnily looked at you, rolling her eyes.

you waved at her goodbye and watched her drive away before closing your front door and locking it. you cheeked every door and window of your house, making sure they were closed.

you went back to the salon, getting snacks on the way to scroll through the different options of movies you had to spend your time with. you went ahead and picked one horror one, it was october after all.

you were mid-film when your phone lighted up with another notification from liam.

you rolled your eyes, taking a peek at the later and most recent messages he had sent you.

you frowned.

“what?” you muttered to yourself. was this a joke? was he playing with you?

next thing you knew your phone was ringing, liam’s name on your screen. you picked it up, an unknown voice coming through the phone. it was not liam.

“hello, y/n.”

“who’s this? where’s liam?” you heard a chuckle.

“asking about a man while talking to me? now you might make me jealous…” “liam can’t come to the phone right now. he’s… indisposed.” you looked out your windows, you could feel someone watching you. it was making your skin crawl. “what are you looking for, hm?”

“i’m gonna call the police.” you nervously said, and heard a laughter.

“ending our little play date so soon? we haven’t even played yet. do you want to play a game, y/n?” you were growing paler by the minute, your skin shining in a cold sweat.

you quickly hung up the phone, calling dina instead.

“come on, come on…” you muttered as it rang. “pick up, pick up!” you sighed when she finally did. “oh thank god, dina! there’s something wrong! i think there’s someone…” but all your words died on your throat when that same voice came though the line.

“did i tell you you could hang up on me?” this time it was rougher. your phone received a video, in which you could see dina and jesse laughing and eating popcorn. “dina seems pretty happy tonight, hanging with her little boyfriend. she really shouldn’t leave her phone lying around for anyone to clone…”

“what do you want?” you sacredly asked, throat dry.

“i told you, i want to play a game. horror movie trivia, three rounds. you call the cops, she and her boyfriend die. you get a question wrong, they die. i can be in that room in 15 seconds. you want a warm up question?” you were sobbing by the time.

“i don’t know much about horror movies!” you pleaded, hearing a chuckle.

“poor thing…” “in the fist stab movies, what woodsboro native was introduced as the franchise’s main character?” the killer completely ignored you, starting the game.

you though for a moment before the answer came up to your mind. “it’s sidney prescott!” you sniffled, quickly talking. “it’s sidney prescott and she lived on elm.”

“correct!” the voice cheered. “you see? you’re gonna do great at this! okay, question one—“

you frowned, quickly cutting them up.

“no, no, no, no… i got that one right. it should count.”

“that was your warm up question, sweet thing, anyone could have gotten that one right, it’s easy. sidney’s in every movie but the last one.” “question one. who wrote the book the shining?” the killer inquired and you quickly answered. you knew that one.

“stephen king!”

“correct. dina and jesse might live to see the sunrise.” “question two. how many people died at the hand of jason in the first friday the 13th movie?” your eyes widened.

“um… um…” shitshitshit.

“times ticking…”

you quickly left the call and entered google, searching the answer. once you came up with it with shaky hands, you answered.

“none.”

“correct! you seemed to pull that one off. let’s move to the last question…” “what is the number one rule on randy’s list for surviving a horror movie in scream?”

your face fell. “i…”

you didn’t know.

you were trying to find the answer but nothing was coming up. why was there nothing coming up?!

“no answer?” you swallowed your tears as you walked to the kitchen, taking a knife. you were getting ready for what’s coming.

“fuck you.” you spat, and heard a chuckle once again.

“close… but wrong. now, you might be able to answer to this one… am i inside the house or out?” your blood ran cold. suddenly, you heard a creek of the floor wood, and when you turned around, there it was, black eyes and white face staring at you in a scream.

you shrieked, and ran, hearing quick footsteps behind you. you ran was quickly as you could towards the entry door, which stood open, handle jammed, but before you could reach a couple of arms were engulfing you in a tight grip, and your knife was clattering on the floor.

you screamed, trying to fight off the masked killer, punching and kicking them as hard as you could, to no avail. they were too strong.

“shh, shh, that’s harsh baby. treating me so badly when the only thing i’ve done is treat you so right…” the modulated voice whispered on your ear, pulling you with them to your living room. “i even brought you a present!” the killer said, and in a blink the lights to your garden were on, showing who seemed to be liam tied to a chair, eyes widening in terror when he saw you, trying to free himself from the restraints, and scream thought the tape shutting his mouth.

but what really made your heart jump was the other ghost face standing beside him, who crooked their head to the side. “what’s the matter, y/n? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“there are…, two?” you inquired to yourself in disbelief, in fear. this made a lot of sense to why they couldn’t find the culprit to all these murders.

“oh, sweetheart, there’re always two.” the ghostface holding you muttered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “what do you have to say about your present, hm? isn’t it pretty?” your eyes drifted back to liam, who was already staring at you with a terrified look in his eyes. he looked beat up, nose broken and one of his eyes puffy and turning purple.

you felt your eyes pricking with tears at the thought that you could be next. “what do you want?” you wobbly inquired.

“you don’t like it? we did it just for you. we know how much he’s been nagging you. poor brain dead boy can’t take a hint.” liam grunted when the ghostface beside him gave him a smack in the head.

“we also found out something you’d like to see…” the ghostface behind you said, pressing the knife against your throat just a little tighter so you wouldn’t move as they freed you from one of their arms, their gloved hand dipping inside the pockets of their dark cloak and pulling out a hand of pictures. “why don’t you take a look?” your eyes drifted to the pictures they were handing you. they were all of you. in high school, at your home, sleeping, with your friends…

“what… what is this?” your fear coated voice asked, and the other ghost face chuckled.

“why don’t you ask, liam? caught him rubbing one out to them. seems like he likes you a little bit too much.” your eyes widened in horror. he had been stalking you?

“that’s a little bit serial killer of you, liam…” the ghostface behind you sarcastically said, clicking their tongue.

“liam…?” you called for him, and the other ghostface pulled the tape off of his mouth.

“i… i’m sorry! i couldn’t help it!” you felt sick to your stomach, the urge to puke deep in your throat. he stopped talking as the ghostface punched him in the face.

“fucking disgusting…” liam grunted when they took him by the hair, a knife on his throat. “you make me want to gut you up, like all those other pigs and bitches before you. they had it fucking coming by trying to hurt her, fuck her.” your heart seemed to stop, your eyes widened.

“wait…” you looked as pale as a ghost, blood frozen in your veins. “you did all of this… killed all of them… for me?” you suddenly stopped feeling those warm arms around you, letting you free. you were in shock, stuck in place.

“you seem surprised.” the ghostface beside you cocked their head, waving their knife. “what? couldn’t expect someone would kill for you? oh baby, we would do anything for you.” they walked away from you and towards the other ghostface. “sarah martins. bullied you all the way through your first years of high school. she made you so unhappy… we couldn’t let her get away with it.” they said. “bitch died like a fucking pussy, calling for her mommy.” they snickered.

“cole brown.” the other ghostface, who now you could see was much broader and taller than the one that had been holding you spoke. “really thought making fun of you at prom was ‘cool’. cool was the way his face caved in when i dug my fucking axe into his brains.”

“sarah smith. that bitch couldn’t keep her mouth shut, speaking badly of you to everyone. i made her eat shit, and then, her own puke before i turned her into a fucking strainer.”

“harry davis. sour motherfucker. couldn’t fuck you so he had to lie about it. gutted him like a fish.”

“and lastly, you…” the taller ghostface took liam’s face with one of their big hands. “what should we do with you?”

“let’s just finish him off already, i’m getting bored.” the other said, lifting their knife.

they had killed them all… for you. because they… loved you?

“who are you?” you inquired, the masks both looking back at you. you could almost feel their smirks.

“look at her. isn’t she cute? we killed 4 people for her and she’s already in deep.” the ghostface laughed. “is that it sweet thing? that’s why you ain’t running? you liked that we hurt these people for you?” you shook your head.

“no, i-“

“i think you do. i think you’re getting off on this. having someone so obsessed with you that they’d kill those that had hurt you.“

“that’s not true!”

“what makes you think you couldn’t be next?” the other asked, stepping closer to you, and you took a step back, their big figure intimidating.

“you love me.” you said, and they sighed.

“that i do. but that doesn’t mean that i couldn’t hurt you.” you took a glimpse at the knife in their hands. “do you want me to hurt you?” your legs shook. you could feel the eyes behind the mask trailing down your body, covered by your skimpy little pijama. “answer me.” the killer ordered, but you could only focus on the dragging of their knife up your stomach, slowly.

“no.”

“liar.” you shivered, gasping when a hand circled your neck.

“what do you want from me…?”

“you know what we want.” you gulped, thighs squeezing against the other. “and you seem to want it too.” you unconsciously bit down on your lip. why was this strangely turning you on? they were killers for god sakes, you should be calling the cops, running as far as you could. but suddenly they were pushing away. “but first… we need to take care of our little friend here.” they went back to liam, who looked terrified.

“please, please let me go, i won’t do it again!” he begged, and the other ghostface groaned.

“ugh. hate it when they start begging.” they said before stabbing him in the stomach, making him yelp in pain. you gasped, hands going up to your mouth as you watched the blood starting to pour down onto the floor of your patio. “don’t you get it?” they inquired, pressing the knife to his temple. “you’re not getting out of here alive.”

“no, please!” another stab, this time coming from the ghostface that had come up to you moments ago.

“should’ve thought it twice before messing with our girl.”

our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl. our girl.

you were their girl.

another stab.

and another.

and another.

you could just stand there and watch as blood sputtered from liam’s lip, as the life slowly left his eyes and he bled to death. one final slice to the throat was what finally ended his suffering, cascades of blood trailing down his neck and chest as he tried to breath in gurgles. with one last shaky breath, he was gone.

“one more, one less.” one of them said, before the two of them turned towards you, white masks splattered in blood. “now… what should we do with you?” you shivered as they stepped closer, you could feel their intense gaze on you.

“such a pretty little thing… look at her. i’ve waited for this moment for so long…”

they were caging you in between them and the exterior wall of your home like predators would with their prey. they thrived on this, on your terror, on this little sick game of theirs.

you gasped when your back hit the wall, cold surface against your burning skin. then, their hands were on you, and you were in flames. your skin grew in goosebumps.

“so beautiful…” you watched as the taller one took off their bloody gloves, one of their warm strong hands cupping your cheek. “can’t stain such a pretty thing with their filthy blood, right?” “now. why don’t you tell us what you want, hm?”

“your faces. i want to see your faces.” you begged, hands shaking.

“whatever my girl wants.” the other said, before raising their still gloved hands towards their mask, the one touching you did the same, and at the same time they let them fall onto the floor.

all breath left your lungs. they were beautiful. like angels of death that had come knocking down on your door. you were mesmerized. blonde strands with the bluest eyes staring into your soul, along with green ones with auburn hair that would shine like fire under the sun. you were mesmerized.

the freckled girl chuckled, her now naked hands taking your chin. “look at her, like a deer in dead lights. like what you see, baby?” your cheeks flushed. you did. you tried to look away, but there was the tall blonde to stop you, her hand back against your cheek.

“aw, don’t go and get shy on us now. you better answer ellie, princess.”

ellie. the green eyed was called ellie.

“i do.” you said, and their smirks only grew more.

“i bet you do, hm?” ellie hummed, her thumb pressing against your bottom lip, caressing it. “you know. i’m so tired due to all the killing and all… treated you so good… i think we deserve a thank you, don’t you think doll?” you nodded. god. her voice was doing things to you.

“thank you.” you breathed out, but she clicked her tongue.

“come on, i think you can do better than that, hm?” she stared at your lips, thumb pulling from your bottom one, and you gulped. you knew what she wanted. you nodded, and she smiled, wetting her own with her tongue as she leant in. you couldn’t help but stare at her lips due to that gesture, slowly closing the distance in between the two of you until her lips were on yours. she groaned, and your whole body shivered. it didn’t take long until her tongue was pushing inside your mouth, and you whimpered, your eyes closed shut as you kissed her back. once she pulled away, there was a string of spit connecting both of your lips. she licked at your bottom lip to get rid of it, making you slightly moan. “good girl.” she praised, and your cunt throbbed. “now, why don’t you thank abby, hm? don’t want her to get jealous.”

abby. ellie and abby. why did their names have to be as pretty as them?

abby bit down on her bottom lip, cunt throbbing at your half lidded eyes, dazed face and swollen reddish lips. she wanted to eat you whole. she didn’t waste time in pulling you by your waist, warm tongue inside your mouth as your hands clasped on her strong broad shoulders. they kissed so good… the kiss quickly escalated. she was hungry. you moaned against her lips as her hands took your ass, squeezing, pulling impossibly closer. “abby…” you sighed when you felt her lips on her neck.

“fuck. sounds even better than i expected.” she muttered, her name sounded heavenly if it came from your lips.

“now i’m the one getting jealous.” ellie said with a a smirk on her lips, obviously enjoying the little show you two where giving her. you pulled from her cloak closer, and her eyes fell as she leant in when you did, searching her lips once again. “oh, yeah?” her eyebrows arched and you nodded, kissing her. this time she wasn’t as soft as the first time, biting down on your bottom lip as your hands dipped in her auburn hair. she hummed. this was heaven. ellie’s lips on your own and abby’s on your neck, sucking bruises that you won’t even bother to cover —it’s not as if they’d let you—. suddenly ellie’s hands were on your boobs, and your back arched, her fingers pinching your nipples. “let’s go to your room, hm?” you nodded, fucked out look on your face, and took one of their hands in between your own to drag them upstairs.

you were on the bed as soon as you were stepping into your room, abby and ellie taking their cloaks of to show their jeans and wife beaters, along with the bulges resting in between their thighs. your mouth watered, and ellie chuckled.

“my eyes are up here, doll.” you blushed.

“needy little thing, you just need a good fuck, don’t you?” abby’s sultry voice went straight to your cunt, and you moaned, nodding. “of course you do, look at you. i bet that little pussy of yours is soaked, isn’t it?” you bit down on your lip, and nodded again. “why don’t you show us, baby?” suddenly, you felt exposed, their gazes on you making you shiver. you slowly took of your shorts, along with your cotton panties, which were now drenched in your slick. your whole body was burning by the time your thighs parted, your cunt on full display for the pair, who groaned at the same time. “open up for me, princess.” she muttered, eyes unable to move away from your soaked folds. you complied, two of your fingers dipping in between them to pull them apart, slick keeping them connected, and show your twitching entrance and puffy little clit.

“fuuuuck.” ellie moaned, one of her hands coming down to her crotch to palm herself, the back of her strap rubbing her own throbbing clit. “good girl.” she praised, and you whimpered, your hole twitching in need.

“please…” you begged.

“what do you want, princess? tell us and we’ll give it to you.” abby said.

“i want you. i want you to fuck me.” that was their breaking point. ‘cause who were they to say no to something they’ve been dreaming about for years. they were on you in a blink. hands all over your body. abby’s fingers dipped in between your folds, ellie’s hands got rid of your shirt, leaving you completely exposed and naked for them, and took a hold of your tits. your back arched, maybe at the tight circles abby was drawing on your clit, maybe at the feeling of ellie’s lips and tongue on your sensitive nipples. a pornographic drawn out moan left your lips, your eyes squeezing shut. “fuck.” you cried out. you’ve never felt like this. you’ve never been this wet.

“so fucking soaked, you’re desperate for it, huh?” abby groaned, and ellie bit down on your nipple. “gonna stuff this pretty pussy up.” you moaned.

“you want abby to fuck you baby? want her to stretch you open on her cock?” ellie taunted you. you nodded, and she smirked. “of course you do… why don’t you get on your hands and knees for us, hm?” your legs were quivering, arms wobbly as you pushed yourself to the position she had asked for, exposing your ass and wet cunt to the hungry eyes of abby, whose hands came down to squeeze your ass cheeks, making you whine. ellie’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, slightly pushing inside your mouth. “open.” she ordered, and your mouth fell ajar for her. “more.” you gagged as she pushed down on your tongue. “thaaat’s it.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a moan ripped your throat when you felt abby’s tongue licking a fat strip up in between your slick folds.

“fuck. tastes so good.” abby groaned, her fingers digging in your ass to push you back against her face.

you were in a daze, spit dribbling down your chin as abby ate you out.

“now. you’re gonna take whatever abby’s gonna give you while i fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, understood?” you nodded, and her thumb left your mouth so her hands would reach her crotch and unzip her jeans. she wasn’t wearing any underwear, just her black strap, which hung low on her hips once she got rid of her pants. you gulped. it was fucking huge. “open up for me, doll.” you complied, moans leaving your throat due to abby’s administrations. she was eating you out like a starved woman, tongue buried in your hole, slurping to every tiny drop you’d give her.

soon enough ellie was sliding down your throat, slowly. “atta girl. nice and deep.” and you tried your best to take it, to not choke and gag. but a harsh deep thrust made you, and ellie couldn’t love it more. “fuck that’s it. choke on my cock, baby.” she groaned. the sight was heavenly.

but you were the one in heaven. abby’s lips were around your clit, sucking, as one of her fingers probed inside your cunt, making you whimper. ellie continued her thrusts down your throat, making spit dribble down your chin towards your breasts. your back was arched in pleasure, your eyes watery. you were so turned on that you knew you wouldn’t last.

abby pushed another finger in, fucking them in and out of you, her thick fingers perfectly hitting your g spot. you were a moaning mess, doe eyes heavy as you stared up at ellie. “fuck. i want to fucking ruin you.” she muttered through gritted teeth, her hips snapping harder. you whimpered, your cunt clenching around abby’s fingers. you were gonna cum.

“you’re gonna cum baby? gonna soak my face?” you nodded around ellie’s cock, moaning. “go ahead, let me see this pretty pussy drip for me.” when her lips went back to your clit sucking, you felt it hit you. your walls squeezed around her fingers as you moaned, tears falling down your cheeks as abby fucked you through it, walls pulsing and soaking her digits in a creamy white that dripped down your seam. she sucked you clean, licking her fingers as she pushed them inside her mouth once you were done.

your ears picked up on the sound of a flyer opening, and your cunt throbbed. your back arched when you felt the tip of her strap gliding through your puffy folds. you whined.

“can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy, fuck.” she groaned. “gonna fill you up so good baby, gonna stretch you and mold you to my cock.” you nodded around ellie’s dick, whimpering.

“look at her, she’s begging for it.” she chuckled. “you better give it to her, abby.” she didn’t have to say it twice before she was pushing inside of you, all breath leaving your lungs. she was so fucking big.

“that’s it princess, open up for me. taking my cock so good. pussy so hungry for it…” you moaned, trying to relax so you could fit it all inside. you moaned when she finally thrusted herself inside your warm walls, a squelch filling the room along with abby’s grunt. the strap rubbed perfectly her puffy clit.

she pulled out just to thrust inside once again, and your back arched.

“good girl. you’re being such a good girl letting us use you like this…” one of ellie’s hands came down onto your head, slim fingers lacing on your hair.

“pussy so good is swallowing me all up. you like my cock baby? like it?” she groaned, snapping harshly her hips against your ass. you screamed, gagging around ellie’s dick.

they were harshly fucking you now, taking everything they could from you. you were gagging and moaning non stop, your mind feeling dizzy due to the lack of air.

every thrust hit your g spot, one of abby’s hands, that had been gripping your hips hardly enough to leave bruises, coming down in between your thighs to rub at your oversensitive clit. you tried to wiggle your way away from her touch, but her other hand came down onto your ass in a slap. “don’t run away from me.” she ordered and you whimpered. ellie pulled out of your mouth, and since she no longer was grabbing you by your hair, your arms wobbled, letting you fall against the duvet.

“look at you…” she cooed. “used like a fucking toy, hm?” she chuckled. moans spilled from your lips with every one of abby’s thrusts your sore nipples rubbing against the sheets at the strength of the snaps of her hips. “get up. we’re not done with you yet.” she pulled you up by your hair again, abby’s free hand and arm holding you form your stomach to pull you closer against her chest, making her cock slip deeper inside of you. you cried out.

“too much. ‘s too much!” you slurred.

“fuck abby, i can see your cock in her.” ellie moaned, biting down on her lip at the sight of abby’s strap poking through the skin of your stomach in a bulge. ellie’s hand took the place of abby’s against your clit so the blonde could drag you down harder on her dick. she was kissing your fucking cervix.

“i’m so deep in her she can’t even speak.” the other chuckled, groaning and grunting with each snap of her hips against you.

“i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum. i’m cumming.” you cried, fat tears spilling from your watery doe eyes.

“yeah? gonna give us another one, baby?” you nodded, moaning non stop. “of course you are. go ahead, baby. i wanna hear you scream.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your second orgasm of the night hit you. you were drowning on it, screaming, gasping on ellie’s mouth as she hungrily and wetly kissed you. you tried to kiss her back in between cries and moans to no avail, your tongue messily sliding against her own.

“good girl. good. fucking. girl.” abby groaned with each thrust, fucking all your cum out of your cunt.

once you came down from it, you were panting heavily, body completely limp in between abby’s arms.

ellie’s hand surrounded your neck, biting on your bottom lip. “you think you can give me one more, baby? gonna let me fuck you, hm?”

“i can’t cum anymore…” you cried, and she cooed.

“aw… aren’t you cute.” she falsely pouted. “that’s something for me to decide.” you whimpered. oh fuck, why was your clit throbbing again? “here’s what we’re gonna do.” she squeezed your neck, making you gasp. “you’re gonna open your fucking legs for me and take my cock while you eat abby out, hm? i think she deserves a little thank you for fucking you up so good, don’t you think?” you nodded and she smiled. “that’s my girl.” you whined as abby pulled out of you, the emptiness in between your thighs making you shudder and whimper.

“shhhh, don’t worry baby. ellie’s gonna fuck you real good.” she whispered, slightly pushing you so you would lay on your back on the sheets. you watched as she unclasped her strap, showing her blonde mound and shiny lips. your mouth watered. “gonna be good for me and make me cum?” you nodded, and she crept her way up your body until your face stood below and between her thighs. you moaned, shiny eyes glued to her perfect pussy. your hands gripped her strong thighs as you felt ellie’s hands part your own to get in between them.

abby lowered herself on your face, moaning when your tongue came out of your mouth to lick a strip up her clit from her leaking hole. you cried out. fuck. she tasted so good. abby groaned at the way you lapped at her slick, starved. “so fucking needy. you like my pussy baby?” you nodded, humming and moaning against her as you suckled on her clit. one of her hands came down on your hair, gripping it. you pulled away from her when you felt ellie entering you in a harsh and quick thrust, making you scream.

“fuck. she’s so tight…” she grunted. “she’s milking my fucking cock.” she thrusted inside, and you moaned, but abby pulled you back to her cunt.

“come on baby. use that pretty mouth of yours.” she grunted, her hips bucking against your tongue. you flattened it so she could ride your face. “that’s it. stick your tongue out for me. oh fuck.” she moaned.

your mind was fuzzy, your pussy drooling around ellie‘s cock.

your back arched. you were feeling so good. they were fucking you so good.

“my pretty little doll, hm? aren’t you baby?” abby groaned, watching as you sucked on her clit, your moans and whimpers driving her closer to her orgasm. “eating my pussy so good. you love it don’t you? love it that ellie and me are using you to cum like a little toy, huh? of course you do. fuck.” she moaned. your eyes opened, and you almost came at the sight of abby and ellie making out on top of you. the blonde’s head was turned to the side as ellie leaned forwards, hungrily kissing her in between groans and moans. you cried out.

“look at her, she likes it.” ellie chuckled, and abby looked at you, a smirk on her lips.

you moaned, watching as ellie kissed at abby’s neck.

“oh, she loves it.” abby teased you, ellie giving you a specially harsh thrust as her hands grasped at abby’s breasts, her hips slamming against yours, making the wet squelches of your pussy fill the room. “she’s fucking soaked.” she chuckled.

“then let’s give her a good show, hm?” ellie muttered against her lips, and abby harshly kissed her, making ellie moan.

you whimpered, watching as they made out on top of you, abby fucking your face. the kiss was hungry and angry, all tongue and teeth as abby pulled at ellie’s hair, making her fuck you harsher and faster. she was approaching her orgasm.

“i’m close.” abby groaned, snapping her hips harder against your mouth.

“me too, fuck. gonna cum so hard.” she gasped, and you moaned. “seems like she’s gonna cum too.” she smirked.

“you gonna cum, doll? gonna cream ellie’s cock?” you nodded, and abby moaned at the feeling of your nose bumping against your clit, pulling at your hair. “shit. go ahead baby, cum for us.” you moaned, your nails digging on her thighs as your own shook, your cunt pulsing as you came. you felt short of air, falling apart. you were fucking squirting. making a mess of the sheets and her cock.

“gonna fill you up. gonna fill this pussy up, fuck!” ellie groaned in between sloppy thrusts, finally cumming against her strap. abby didn’t take long to cream all over your tongue in a moan, thrusting her hips against your mouth to ride it out.

you were crying of overstimulation as they used you to fuck themselves through it.

when they finally stopped you felt boneless, completely spent. abby pulled away from your mouth, hearing a cry at the loss of ellie’s cock as she too pulled out of your drooling cunt. your cum had stained the bed sheets.

“poor thing. she’s completely fucked out.” ellie cooed, caressing your cheek.

“don’t worry baby. we’ll take care of you.” abby said. your vision was starting to blur, the exhaustion taking over your body. “we’ll always take care of you.” she promised. and with that, you passed out, feeling safe in between the arms of death.

-

a/n; 👻

[glossykissies]

i think this was like one of the first scott fics u posted but reader was in college for like fashion design? i think 😭 but anyways reader got a bad grade in one of her classes and scott says she cant touch him cos u cant reward bad behavior!!!

it’s funny because scott thinks he’s handling it the right way.

it’s how he was raised — it’s why he ended up in the working environment he did. his mother was a sweet woman, but his father was hard, never impressed, always pushing scott to achieve more. of course there were times he resented him for being so cold and unyielding, but he supposed he had him to thank for everything. now as a grown adult, scott saw himself in his old man, rearing his ugly head when least expected.

you’d come home to scott, all wired up and manic looking for a distraction. the project you thought you’d been slaving over ended up bringing you your worst grade yet. it wasn’t failable, and you knew you’d be able to pull yourself back — but it was certainly a wake up call. you felt ashamed.

you’d mentioned it in passing to scott as you were toeing your shoes off, thinking that if you treated it as a casual thing, it would be less damning. you were known to work hard, and you’d hate if scott thought any less of you. if there was anyone who’s opinion mattered to you over your professor, it was him.

“— and i’m gonna have to retake that class because i flopped so hard, anyway i had icecream for lunch—”

“hold on.” scott frowns, arms folded over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall, narrowing his eyes at you. “retake the class? explain.”

he makes note of the way you swallow and avoid his eyes as you gather up an excuse. “its fine, i failed the class. its fine.” you shrug a shoulder, and scott stares before shaking his head with a sigh.

“look — i told you, if you’re gonna be here all the time you can’t let it interfere with your projects. i think — i think it’s best if you start spending some weekends from home so you can get back on top of—”

“no!” you bark, eyes wide and desperate, which actually silences him in surprise. you are incredibly quick to adjust yourself, releasing a tense chuckle to let it be known that you were on your best behaviour, smile straining your cheeks and not quite meeting your eyes. “scott it’s not that serious, i swear. i’m passing all my other classes, this happens to everyone atleast once.” you figure your tone is reassuring enough, especially as he doesn’t follow you into the kitchen to make your daily green tea.

you spend a little longer than usual in the kitchen as you sip away at your drink, giving your boyfriend time to hopefully forget about the bad grade you received so you could potentially start the evening over, feeling things were a little chaotic. the hot liquid seems to soothe your nerves momentarily too, aiming to leave the day behind as you eventually slink out into the living room, eeking out your distraction as you join scott on the couch.

he’s watching some kind of documentary, naturally manspreading with that concentrated frown like a man much older than he was. you let a mischievous smile slip as you wriggle up to his side, stroking at his arm. this was nothing unusual from your usual behaviour, so scott doesn’t react — continuing on with his show.

“scotty.” you breathe in his ear, beginning to dot kisses gently along his jawline.

“hm?”

“missed you. needed daddy all day.” you pout as a manicured hand rises to rest on his broad chest before sliding slowly down his stomach toward his belt. you nearly jump out of your skin when he grabs your wrist and moves it away.

“no.” he hums, voice low. you blink your wide eyes at him in confusion — maybe you were just spoilt, because it wasn’t often you heard that word so firmly.

“huh?”

it’s only then scott looks at you, raising his eyebrows. “you think i’m gonna reward you for failing a class? you know, if i had been you — i’d already be at the desk with my laptop out, getting to work so i don’t fail my class again.” he’s stern, and whilst you’re used to his blunt ways you’re stunned by how cruel he was being. to him, he wanted the best for you and this was how he showed it in the moment, but to you it was the ultimate rejection.

it’s unnoticeable to the human eye, but he softens when you’re so quick to submit without argument despite his words, bashfully climbing off the couch to silently grab your bag and head to the bedroom where scott’s desk was. he watches you go, arms crossed — before he sighs, closing his eyes. that wasn’t him, it was his father. you didn’t deserve that.

he thinks up what to say to you, standing up to retrieve you approximately seven minutes later. he finds you at the desk where he suggested, laptop open on an empty document, crying quietly into your hands. scott closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath before starting towards you.

“hey. hey.” his voice is quiet as he scoops you off the chair, replacing you with himself as he cradles you on his lap. “c’mon.” he whispers, feeling you wrack with another silent sob into your hands.

“i’m sorry.” you squeak.

“you don’t have to be sorr—”

“you’re disappointed in me. i’m disappointed in me too i just wanted to forget for a few hours.” you cry like a baby, stripped down to your most vulnerable self and his jaw clenches, mad that he was the one to upset you like this. this relationship shit was harder than it looked.

“hey i’m not, okay? i’m not. i was… hard on you because i think you can be great. okay? i think you are great. most talented girl i know. i don’t wanna get in the way of that, you know?” his large hand slides up your back to pull you closer and he feels you nod.

“i know. i’m sorry i get so upset about stupid stuff. i tried to be a big girl about it. i tried to… start—” you pull away to gesture to the empty document and he breathes out a chuckle, pulling you back to his chest.

“i know. i see… and it’s not stupid. i was mean. you should have kicked my ass.” he shakes his head but hears you giggle against his shirt, likely staining it with tears and mascara.

“next time.” comes out muffled.

“great.” he sarks before pulling you back to mop up your face, trying not to grimace at any snot or drool as he swipes it away with his thumb. “look. get started on… all this tomorrow. i’ll help in any way i can. what do you need right now? hm?” he jogs you on his lap with his knee once to signify that he wants a verbal and decisive answer. you press your lips together, glancing down at his belt once more. “oh yeah?” he confirms in that deep voice that makes between your legs ooze. “still after that?”

you nod, and he squeezes you hip. “alright. i think i can provide.”

[weepingchronicles]

hii can you pls make a yandere caitlyn x reader where the reader tries escaping while cait isn't home but the reader obvi gets caught?? feel free 2 ignore💗💗

part one part two

❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x gn!reader escaping❞

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You had finally curated the perfect escape plan. You almost lost home, Caitlyn was too meticulous and could see through an act you put on no matter what. But when she got an emergency in Piltover, it was her duty as an enforcer to help. The spontaneity gave you the perfect opportunity to leave.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 After weeks of behaving, you secretly absorbed as much information as possible to bypass any security Caitlyn put in place.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 As soon as the warm sun hit your face and fresh air flooded into your lungs, you couldn't stop the happy tears building up in your eyes. You had forgotten what a privilege your freedom outside is. No more overbearing, clingy, protective enforcer as your side anymore! You'd change your name, your appearance if need be to escape her.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Everything was cut short when you found an enforcer. They'll help you! You were once an enforcer after all, they'd have to believe you even if its been awhile. Right?

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Ryan! You don't know how glad I am to see you!" You restrained yourself from clinging onto him into relief. It's been so long since you've finally felt free. You quickly explained him everything, how you've been entrapped by Caitlyn, not realizing you sound a bit delirious.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Ryan just nods, a uncomfortable smile on his face. "Great.. does um, Caitlyn know you are here?"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "What? No, of course not! I'm trying to escape her. You have to help me!"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁"Yeah, yeah, of course. But maybe we should get some backup first, okay?" He says soothingly but you're already scoffing at his comment. You recognize that tone, the same condescending and fragility that Caitlyn treats you with!

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Fine, but hurry!" You shout, getting anxious Caitlyn might've found out you're not at home still.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Just as you're about to shout again to announce your impatientness a white gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist with ferocity. It was Caitlyn.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 You look up at her like you seen a friggin' ghost, your heartrate dropping then picking back up exponentially like a rabbit.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Ah, thank you, Ryan for telling me to come pick up Y/N. I was really worried for a minute there, they are suppose to be on bedrest. For a very long time." Caitlyn's sapphire eyes snap back to you, almost signaling you to keep quiet. A warning. But you couldn't help but defend yourself.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "No, help! She's fucking crazy! She drugged and kidnapped me—"

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Both Ryan and Caitlyn have a conversation as if you're not even there. Like you're the ghost.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Yeah, it's been very hard. Ever since the accident she hasn't been the same, her memories are so backwards. She gets delusions that I'm Jinx trying to hurt her. It's so.." Caitlyn fakes a down cast look, making Ryan pity her and put a hand on her shoulder for comfort.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "Don't worry, I completely understand. You're doing a good thing, Cait. Do you need any help getting her back home?" Caitlyn quickly declines, flashing a discreet charming smile.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 After that it was hell. Caitlyn dragged you back home as if nothing was wrong and you didn't bother trying to escape again. She could restrain you easily, shoot you in the leg, anything. And her bruising grip on your shoulders was enough of a effective warning.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 The rest of the months was indeed spent with you on your "bedrest" even though you had no need for it. You were chained nearly 24/7 and when you weren't, Caitlyn was at your side. She'd bathe you, spoon feed you, make you succumb to her control in every little thing. Asserting that you have no power here, you can't do anything yourself especially when no one else on the outside believes you are mentally sound.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 The punishment was long but it eventually got easier, the more you let yourself accept it. You leaned into Cait's touch when she'd give you it and you didn't make a fuss every night when she put you down for bed with her. You got more freedoms, more time spent out of chains but still under Caitlyn's scrutinizing watch.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 But one thing was for certain from the bars on the windows and the locks on the doors, you won't ever be seeing a ray of sunlight again.

art credit: @/kulnifer on twt

[lunajay33]

Mothers Daughter🕊️

Summary: Being the youngest of the winchesters had its ups and downs, but being the only girl made you miss out on a female figure, so the only thing you can do is ask the men around you about your mother

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lil sister, Sam Winchester x lil sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

You never got to meet you mother she died 6 months after you were born, well when you and Sam were born, he was older than you by 5 minutes and still treated you like his little sister but you couldn’t ask for 2 better bigger brothers, they were always there for you and made sure you were okay

Being the youngest and only girl in the family it got hard sometimes, when you were little it wasn’t as big of a deal, John treated you like his little girl and loved you dearly always reminding you that you looked like Mary, your brothers treating you like a princess and let you play with dolls, but as you got older and you got more woman problems it was hard to handle since there was no motherly figure to turn too

You woke up in the motel you were currently staying at with John, Sam and Dean, late at night you got up feeling groggy and your stomach aching so bad, nothing like you’ve ever felt before, you got to the bathroom looking in the mirror seeing how pale you had gotten, thinking maybe it was just something you ate you went to use the washroom but when you pulled down your pants all you see is blood and you panic

You pull your pants back up dropping to the ground when another wave of pain hits your lower stomach

“DADDY!” You scream out scared you might be serious sick

He runs in frantic looking around for danger, probably thinking something supernatural was out to get you, he kneeled infront of you brushing your hair back

“Baby what’s wrong?”

“Somethings wrong, I’m bleeding a lot and….and it hurts so bad” you say breathing heavy just wishing for him to take you pain away

“Oh princess, it’s your period every woman goes through it, I’ll run out and get you some pads and pain killers, drink some water I’ll be right back”

When he left Sam and Dean came and sat with you on the bathroom floor, doing everything they could to comfort you, but you were still confused on what was happening

That happened when you were 14 and after John explained to you what a period was you felt so different from your brothers, every month you had to go through pain while they carried on with hunting, having to go through bouts of random emotions was irritating but what was worse was having your body change and not knowing what to do

“Damn sis your legs are just about as hairy as mine” Dean laughed as we were all sat around in another motel, you felt so embarrassed covering your legs under the blankets

“Dean enough” John said as he saw your bottom lip tremble

“Daddy I don’t understand why do I have to change like this my legs are hairy and my boobs are getting bigger and I don’t feel comfortable”

“Come on princess I’ll take you shopping”

He took you to a drug store find a training bra that fit comfortably and some razors, the drive home was a little quiet

“I’m sorry daddy, I don’t mean to inconvenience you I know you have a lot on your plate right now with this werewolf case”

“It’s not your fault, and you’re not an inconvenience, just wish your mother was here to help guide you on this”

Your mother was a sore topic for the family which is all the more reason you wish you knew her, they barely talk about her

You got back to the motel room and Sam was already asleep but Dean was up watching tv still, John got ready for bed while you sat at the little table working on some homework Dean coming to sit with you, he was 19 so he didn’t have to do any schooling anymore

“Dean can I ask you something?” You sighed putting your pencil down

“Sure kid, what’s got your little head worrying?”

“Do you….i mean I never knew her but…..do you like mom would have liked me?”

He looked surprised not expecting that question, you saw John come out of the washroom seeing Dean expression and your nervous state

“What’s going on?”

“She…..she asked if mom would have liked her”

You were scared that he was going to yell at you, but you were just so desperate to have a mom or even a older strong woman figure to look up to

“Daddy I’m sorry I just…..I feel so different and you always say I remind you of mom, I just miss someone I never knew and it hurts”

“I’m not made princess, I’m sorry you and the boys don’t have your mother but I’m trying my best, and your mother would have loved you, I remember when she found out she was having twins she was so excited and when you were born and we saw you were a little girl she always said she felt this connection with you, how she’d cradle you and you’d immediately relax against her, she had so much planned for you Angel, she told me to wait till your 16th birthday to give you this but it’s close enough” he got up rummaging through his bag pulling out a little box

You opened it to see a silver necklace with a protection charm, just like the one John had tattooed

“I love it, thank you, I hope where ever she is she’s proud of me”

“Hey kid, we’re all proud of you” Dean smiled helping you put the necklace on

“She couldn’t have left me with better protectors, I love all three of you”

“Love you too princess, forever”

You were 22 now and on a run with all three Winchester boys, you had just finished getting the colt back from some vampires and trying to make a game plan so that John would accept you help, Sammy was driving and you and Dean were in the back

“Daddy please just take a break for a second, let us help I…….i miss you” bright lights burned you eyes before everything crashed and everything went black

You opened your eyes to see you were in a field full of flowers, not a worry in the world just the calming feeling of wind in your hair, bees buzzing by, no vampires or demons or anything just peace, then a woman in white appeared next to you

“You’re so beautiful” she smiled brushing your hair back

“Who are you?”

“I’m your mother dear, don’t tell me those boys haven’t showed you a picture of me” you shook your head but then you realized what she said, your mother was sitting next to you

“Mom…..it’s you!” You wrapped your arms around her feeling her warmth that you craved for

“But if it’s really you then…..am I dead?” You asked scared

“You got in a crash, the boys are waiting for you back there but if you want you can stay with me, we can be happy just mother and daughter, you can stay with me”

“But I haven’t lived yet, I don’t wanna leave Sammy or Dean and I can’t leave dad like that, I just got him back”

“It’s your choice baby, but either way I’m always with you” she said pointing at my necklace

A bright light above stung your eyes slowly coming into focus, seeing everyone surrounding you bed

“There she is, god sis you terrified us” Sam said wrapping his arms around you

“Princess why are you crying?” John asked worried your in pain

“I saw her” you whispered still in shock

“I think she still got drugs in her system” Dean laughed

“No I saw her, it was mom” everyone went still

“She said I could stay with her, wherever I was it was peaceful and free of evil but….i had to come back I just got you back dad and I can’t just leave my brothers you’ll tear eachother apart without me here” you smile

“I ain’t leaving anytime soon baby girl”

You went to sit up but pain shot through your body

“Good driving Sam, how is it you all look like you got in a little bar fight and I’m the one in this hospital bed…….any serious damage?”

“Doc said you got a concussion, broken rib and some nasty cuts on your face”

“But I’ll be okay?”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, never again”

Requests are open for supernatural or the walking dead:)🩶