#so of course they follow each other it is

[barcaatthemoon]

good enough ii || alanna kennedy x reader ||

you and mackenzie talk things out.

part 1

alanna's phone call had come first thing in the morning. you had spent your night catching up with the last bits of your schoolwork. it wasn't your ideal night at all, but you were glad to know that there was nothing else for you to worry about for the rest of the school year aside from a couple of exams at the end of the month.

alanna would be glad to hear that. she hated having to share her time with you and your schooling. it made her proud that despite the fact that you could just coast along as an influencer that you still worked hard to get your degree. even if it did take up a lot of time that she wanted to spend with both of your focuses solely directed towards each other.

"how did you sleep?" alanna asked you. she invited you over with the intention to make you breakfast. mackenzie was passed out in the hallway, as if she had attempted to go to alanna's room, but didn't quite make it. you noticed the way your girlfriend's body felt a little stiffer and wondered if she had joined mackenzie on the floor.

"okay. i had a bit of a late night finishing up assignments, but i'm all done now," you told her. alanna smiled as she leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. "how was your night?"

"we argued, made up, drank, fought some more, and i guess cuddled on the floor. macca called kirsty at some point last night, which was not fun to sit through. whenever she wakes up, she's got something to tell you," alanna told you. she sounded very serious, which you weren't used to at all. the blonde rarely took anything so seriously, which kind of threw you off a bit.

"i haven't caused problems, have i?" you asked. alanna could hear the fear in your voice and was quick to reassure you that any problems weren't your fault.

"no, of course not. some people just don't know how to pull their heads out of their asses." alanna spoke softly, despite the small bite in her voice. you turned away from the eggs in front of you to give her a quick peck on the lips. alanna whined a little as you moved away from her.

"not now, i don't want to burn breakfast," you told her. alanna pouted, but moved around the kitchen to help where she could. she took great delight in using the blender to make some smoothies for the three of you. you knew that one was just to give mackenzie a harsh wake up, no doubt knowing that the woman would be hungover.

you had expected mackenzie to come shuffling into the kitchen, not for her to tackle alanna onto the ground. you watched as the two of them rolled around the kitchen floor, finally breaking it up after a couple of minutes. you were quick to reach down and pull alanna back as she tried to wrestle mackenzie into a chokehold.

"this isn't helping," you told her. alanna gave you a sheepish look as she grabbed the plates you had set out and placed them at the table. "thank you."

"sorry," alanna mumbled quietly. mackenzie glanced between the two of them before making a subtle whipping motion at alanna. "ahem."

"i'm getting there. let me wake up a bit first, fuck's sake," mackenzie said as she leaned against the counter. she took a moment to sort her mind out before she turned towards you. "i am sorry for acting like a cunt yesterday. i shouldn't have judged you so quickly, and it is very obvious that you're good for alanna. it's really sweet that you both love each other so much, even if she's acting like a fucking sap all the time."

"thank you for apologizing." you didn't really know what else to say, so you followed alanna into the dining room. it was a bit tense for a while, but alanna was quick to make the two of you talk to each other. you were still understandably apprehensive about mackenzie, but by the time that mackenzie had to leave, you did feel sad about that.

alanna seemed relieved when mackenzie left. she immediately pulled you into her arms as the two of you settled back on the couch. you knew that aside from games and training, the two of you weren't leaving alanna's apartment for the week. she loved getting to spend time with her friends, but that was a mere afterthought whenever she got into one of her clingier moods.

"i am so sorry for noticing earlier," alanna apologized. you were sick of apologies and just wanted to put yesterday behind you. "i should have been paying more attention. if i had known, it never would have gotten that bad."

"you don't have to always be paying attention to me. i am a big girl, i can handle my own problems sometimes," you reminded her. alanna huffed as she shifted on the couch, the new position making it hard for either of you to look anywhere else. "you don't let me solve all of your problems for you. i just have to trust that you'll come to me when you need help."

"you don't think that i don't trust you, do you?" alanna asked. you shook your head. you knew that alanna trusted you. at times, you thought alanna could be a bit too trusting, but it was part of why you loved her. she kept herself well guarded, but the moment that someone slipped through, her walls came crashing down. "because i love and trust you so much, more than anybody else in the whole world."

"i know that you do. i know that you just want to protect me, but some things i need to learn to handle on my own. i know we're keeping this private right now, one day, people will know and i don't want there to be any doubts that i can't stand up on my own." alanna let out a small sigh at your words, but she understood. it would be a slow process, but you knew that eventually, you'd learn not to depend on her so much.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy imagine

[bunniesanddeer]

Hate (Alastor x Reader)

Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).

Obviously minors, DNI.

I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol

Hate

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.

Word Count: 3,818

You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.

You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.

Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.

Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face? 

Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to. 

It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.

When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you. 

“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”

But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed. 

“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”

You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants. 

“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled. 

“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”

Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”

You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.

When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way. 

So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour. 

Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator. 

Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.

It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in. 

With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass. 

You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you. 

Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed. 

It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure. 

You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.

“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?

“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.

“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”

He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this. 

“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.” 

One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip. 

“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.

“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”

You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell). 

“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded. 

“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”

Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine. 

“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer. 

You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud). 

“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else. 

His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises). 

Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched. 

“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control. 

“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder. 

“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”

He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near. 

“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head). 

“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”

Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry. 

“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”

You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression. 

“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”

His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again. 

His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected. 

A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”

His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it. 

One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly. 

You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again. 

The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.

“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle. 

His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”

You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”

You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets. 

That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more. 

“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.

“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall. 

Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting. 

When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”

Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.” 

You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades. 

You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.

“I hate you,” you tell him. 

His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”

“This changes nothing,” you say. 

And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”

Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #bun's short fics #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #alastor x reader smut #smut #hazbin hotel smut

[fraugwinska]

Hi! Okay, damn, sorry, i tried to chill out and not request again so quickly 😅 but I've been constantly thinking about your writing, and I've read all your Alastor one shots like 10 times each...

I'm especially hung up on the ending of More than Words, I did not expect you to end it in such a sweet way and honestly I'd love to see a follow up to that, basically a part two :)

Plot wise I was thinking:

It's been a few weeks since the two of you fell asleep on the couch and Charlie is getting impatient since nothing else happened between Alastor and reader but she can see the way the two looks at each other when they think no one is watching. So, Charlie being Charlie, makes up a plan to set you two up. She also involves everyone at the hotel and some people outside (Rosie) - she makes it so whenever there's some activity, you two are always paired up, or Rosie invites you both for dinner but five minutes into it she leaves saying she forget about something important. And you notice what she's trying to do and while you do appreciate it, you also see that Alastor feels anxious and pressured (you see that but not the fact he's growing feeling for you), so you decide to talk with her. And Alastor hears everything? And we get another amazing sweet emotional ending? 👀🥰

Last thing last - please do not feel pressured to write it or anything, i just wanted to share this with you cause it's been on my mind 😅❤️

You ask - the fluff fairy delivers! 🧚✨ I loved More than words, so I was super happy and excited to write a continuation - and it's as fluffy and wholesome as can be! :> Thank you, Anon, for the suggestion and your beautiful, kind words!!!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Louder than Words

"...and with Niffty choosing Husk, that leaves you two."

Charlie clapped her hands together with a gleeful smile, eyes darting between an annoyed looking Alastor and an annoyed looking you.

"Yes. That leaves us.", you sigh.

"Again.", Alastor adds, the smile on his lips twitching.

"Oh come on, guys, don't be such spoilsports. Look at how much fun this is!" she gestured to a blindfolded and beaten up Vaggie, cursing at Angel in Spanish who howled with laughter as he pushed her through Charlies makeshift obstacle course with much too much carelessness.

"Well I'll be damned. Ange actually managed to get her to to run into the same desk twice without gettin' punched.", Husk said in amused bewilderment, just as a loud "OUCH, ey, stop it Vagina!" was heard. Niffty giggled, blindfolding herself and taking Husks paw. The cat groaned but started to lead her - or more she dragged him - through the course, constantly (almost purposely) hitting something in her way.

You and Alastor looked at each other.

"Well, I guess you don't feel like going through a minefield of office furniture.", you shrugged, and took the last blindfold from Charlies hands, ignoring her excited squeal as you put it on. "Don't let me run into the coffee table, my shins still hurt from last weeks bonding exercise..."

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well, then."

This was getting out of hand. As you felt Alastor's hand on your back, pushing you into the blindness forward, you thought about the last few bonding and trust exercises and how blatantly obvious Charlie was in her determination to get you and Alastor together.

At first you didn't mind, since she didn't make you do anything that wasn't bearable. On one activity, you had to tell your partner what you appreciated about them, that had been easy. Before Alastor could turn to Niffty, who stood next to him, she had almost hauled herself away, insisting on Angel as her partner, and Angel - next to you - nodded with unfitting eagerness. Alastor told you about how good you were at listening and giving good advice, and you had told him you loved the way he spoke - the accent, his way of choosing words and the melodic voice he had, and that you liked his laugh. Easy.

On another activity, Charlie made everyone pair up (of course, you were Alastor's partner, and this time you were sure the sticks you drew were marked by Charlie and Husk by the way they had shared mischievous looks) and hug their partner for five minutes. That had been less fun. You were much too aware how averse Alastor was to physical touch, and although he could've had it worse with Angel or Vaggie, you still felt bad when you saw the look on his face as Charlie set the timer. "We don't have to, Al. I can just sit this one out.", you had told him, but with a pained smile, he wrapped his arms around you stiffly, holding you in an awkward embrace. "It's alright dear, just... stay still, would you?" It had been a weird, uncomfortable silence, those five minutes. You avoided any touch yourself and did not dare to look him in the eyes, so to not make it any more weird for him.

It had taken you a long time to understand that the radio demon was, in it's essence, just another former human being turned sinner. A man with a lot of traumas and issues, who had died and gone to hell. Not a good person by heavenly standards... by most standards really, being an overlord and cannibal and all, but in hell that didn't really mean anything, you were all there for a reason. It certainly meant nothing to you. With a lot of work from your end, he had learned to trust you, and in return he let you get to know him, step by step.

But all these efforts could go down the drain at this infuriating persistence of everyone around you to force something that shouldn't be forced. Alastor was already uncomfortable at being touched, already hesitant to share things from his past, or his feelings, already on the fence of showing genuine kindness and trust. The last thing you wanted was to lose all the progress you've made with him.

The feeling of his arms around you had burned itself into your memory, and the scent of him had stuck to your skin for a long time. You weren't stupid, it had been a long time coming, this goddamn crush on him, this fluttering feeling one gets when getting too close to another. You had fallen for him a long time ago, and you could argue with reason all you wanted - it didn't change the fact you liked Alastor more than just a friend. BUT - and this but was important - he never had shown any interest in relationships, romance, love or anything. And that was fine. You were content to have him in your life, and if that was as 'just' trusted friends, you would still take it in a heartbeat.

"Watch out, darling, armchair to your left." Alastor's voice, right next to your ear, made you flinch. "Careful now, the carpet is starting to change into hardwood.", he warned and you nodded, taking careful steps. You had no idea where you were in the foyer, or if you were nearing the door or the stairs. "Are we anywhere close to the finish line?", you asked him and you heard his quiet chuckle.

"Oh no, we still have quite a way to go. Don't worry, my dear, I'll make sure you're not going to run into the remains of the cupboard Niffty just destroyed." His hand on your waist, guiding you, made you swallow nervously.

That gesture reminded you of another instance of your friends overreaching insistence - your visit at Rosie's last week. Rosie, your long-time friend, had invited you and Alastor for a dinner party. She had sent a message through Charlie (which should have been your first clue that something was not right), but both of you had decided to go, because who were you to deny her hospitality? You had been surprised to find her emporium so... empty, when you entered. No servants, no other guests, no one. Only you, Alastor and Rosie, sitting in her lounge chatting about the newest gossip of hellish politics before she served a whole feast of venison, various vegetables and side dishes, all of which had looked exquisite and overly fancy.

She had left almost as soon as you and Alastor sat down, saying she forgot to pick up something important from across the colony, and to not wait on her while she rushed out of the room with a glistening smile. You had watched her suspiciously, knowing she was up to something. It didn't take a genius to realize she was trying to set you two up, and Alastor seemed to have understood the same, because of the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly uncomfortable and tense the whole evening. It had been a somewhat awkward affair, the two of you eating and desperately chatting, unwilling to waste the food. But you couldn't even get a proper bite down your throat with how much your stomach was twisting.

When Rosie returned, she found you sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, while Alastor was absent.

"Did something happen?", she had asked you with a pinch of impish curiosity, and you had replied "No. Nothing." in a dry tone. She had sat down next to you, asking how dinner had been, and if the two of you enjoyed yourselves. "Oh yes, it was lovely, although your seat empty surely was a little damper on the fun." you had answered, giving her a fake smile. You never saw her that abashed before. When Alastor returned to bring you back to the hotel, the walk had been... silent. Awkward, as you hung on his arm he had presented you, with him unable to look you in the eyes and you not wanting to press him into more talking. When you had arrived home, he guided you through the double doors, his hand on your waist, before quickly saying good night and melting into his shadows to rush away into his room, leaving you alone in the dark foyer.

It was like you were standing on glass, always having an eye out to make sure others wouldn't push too hard and break the thin ice you walked on, with a dangerous fondness deep beneath the surface, too fragile to poke.

"...listening, Darling?"

"Huh? What?"

You felt the blindfold being removed from your eyes, the sudden light blinding you.

"You look a little flushed my dear." you blinked your eyes, only to see Alastor stand directly in front of you, just barely out of arms reach, staring you in the face with a scrutinizing expression. "The exercise is over, we made it through the course without a scratch, I hope I didn't cause you any discomfort."

It took a moment for you to realize that you stood at the edge of the maze of furniture, but what really knocked you off your balance was the way Alastor's head was tilted slightly to one side, his crimson eyes almost boring through you, staring deep into your soul, as if he was looking for you, truly seeing you, and how he reached out a sharp tipped hand towards you with the look of worry on his face. You took a step back, laughing nervously and raking a hand through your hair.

"All good, Al. I'm just glad there's no imprint of my face on any of the cupboards." You saw him jerk his hand back with a pained smile. "Splendid.", he laughed, the edges of it trembling. He looked everywhere but at you, "Shall we join the others, then?"

You followed him to one of the sofas and let yourself fall on the plush cushions next to him. You watched his ears twitch as Angel hollered a jubilant cheer of Vaggie's name, who finally reached the end of the course, the blood on her shins almost dried. Husk patted a panting Niffty on the back with a fond look, while Charlie cheered as Angel bowed for her with a big grin.

"Told 'ya the spicy taco and I could make it out alive and in one piece, Charls!"

Vaggie gave Angel a deathly glance, then sighed. "It's high time for lunch, hon. All the blood loss made me hungry..."

The group collectively agreed and headed towards the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly with each other. You couldn't help but give Alastor, who kept his gaze anywhere else than to you, a look, furrowing your brow. This had to stop, now.

"Charlie, do.... do you have a minute?"

The princess stopped to look at you, her smile disappearing and her eyes widening as she saw the stern expression on your face.

"Uh- Yeah, sure.", she shot Vaggie a look, as if begging for her help, but you just grabbed her hand and pulled her away into a nearby corridor while the others snickered and headed off, telling them to take their time. Charlie gave you a nervous glance, and the pitiful face of guilt only worsened your mood.

"Charlie, I know you mean well, but you have to stop."

"Listen, I didn't mean any harm..." Her face was full of pitiful remorse. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"I'm aware of that, Charlie, but you are making Al uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, really, that's not my intention! I just Thought you two need a little push in the right..."

"This whole... THIS might end our friendship all together and I don't want to take that risk! You're even getting the others involved. For fuck's sake, even Rosie is in on it. Al doesn't want this - us, relationship-thing, WHATEVER, and it is not okay for you to press us!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "But you want it."

"What?", you said, irritated.

"You're only talking about him, and his feelings. But what I'm hearing is, that you... you like him, right? You'd say yes to..."

Tears of frustration shot into your eyes. Why didn't Charlie get it? "That doesn't matter. It's not something only one can decide, you should know that. He doesn't feel the same, and that's fine. He doesn't want to be with me, and that's fine. I can accept that. What I can't accept is the way you're hellbent on forcing a relationship on us. He is happy the way we are, and I don't want you and the others to mess that up."

You turn away from her, angry and hurt. "I just... want him to be happy. To have his boundaries respected."

"I... I'm sorry...", Charlie started, but you already walked off.

You were angry. Angry at Charlie, angry at everyone, angry at yourself. Almost at your doorstep, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Dearest? I'd like to talk, if that's alright with you."

It was Alastor. Of course it was Alastor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a feeling of dread and guilt washing over you, as if he had overheard the entire conversation, and you slowly turned around, swallowing. He didn't seem upset, but his face was calm and serious, not the usual cheerful smile on his lips.

"Of course."

He held the door to your own room open for you, closing it behind him after you entered.

"Take a seat, Darling, if you would."

You sat down, hands in your lap, avoiding his gaze, looking at your carpet with feigned interest. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a painful stinging sensation in your stomach.

"Darling, would you look at me, please."

With a heavy sigh, you obliged, looking up.

"Al, listen, I'm sorry...", you started, but were interrupted by the radio demon's hand, raising up.

"Please. Let me talk, would you, my dear."

You closed your mouth, and he nodded, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I'm a... difficult man. And I am not exactly the best in understanding the feelings of others. I also know that the princess and - under her meticulous orchestration - our fellow residents, are quite adamant in their endeavor to try and push us together."

You swallowed, hard. The way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

"Al, listen, it's alright, I've talked to Charlie and I'll tell the others to stop..."

"Darling, would you PLEASE shut up for a minute?"

The room was suddenly silent. He rarely talked like that to you.

"As I was saying..." He sighed, and you couldn't help but think he was utterly frustrated. You felt horrible. "I don't appreciate it when people assume what I want or don't want."

"Neither do I.", you mumbled, and he let out a laugh.

"That is precisely my point, Darling." Alastor took a few steps towards you, his cane twirling in his hands before he poofed it out of existence. "And as such, I've been pondering for a while how to proceed. The way the others keep pestering us, I thought it's better to clear things up between us."

Your heart sank. So he did overhear your conversation with Charlie, after all. You couldn't blame him. You would've done the same.

"Alastor, I understand..."

"Do you now?", he asked, tilting his head to one side, an incredulous smirk playing on his lips. Lips that were suddenly awfully close to your own. When did he get so close? Why did he get so close?!

Everything slowed down - his arm snaked around your waist, his hand came up to your neck, a thumb caressing the little dip of the bottom of your jaw. Your trembling hands came to rest on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat hammering underneath the fabric of his jacket. His eyes, those beautiful crimson eyes, were fixed on yours, and your breath came out in a shaky sigh before his lips closed over yours, kissing you so softly and sweetly you could barely comprehend what was happening. Your fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life, and as he deepened the kiss, you gasped, your whole body tensing, melting, yearning.

It felt like a dream, an out of body experience, and for a short, panicked moment, you felt the cold, hard grip of fear around your heart. What if it was just a dream, and when you wake up, everything is back to the way it was before? What if he would pull away any moment, and apologize, saying he made a mistake?

But the fear disappeared almost immediately, when Alastor hummed contently, and pulled you even closer to him.

You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his hand on your neck got tangled in your hair, how his breath was mingling with yours, and the scent of him filled your nose. The faint smell of spices, old books, wood and something like burnt amber, a scent you would never get enough of.

"Now tell me, dearest, if you understood.", he murmured against your lips, the grin audible in his voice.

"I... might need a little more explanation."

You could almost hear him roll his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you again, and his laughter against your lips made your heart skip more than just one beat. The sound of wood cracking and a loud rumble snapped both of your heads towards your door.

In a pile of heads and limbs, five bodies fell through the splintered wood of your door frame, groaning in pain, the remains of the door still swinging in its hinges.

Alastor looked at the pile of eavesdroppers, a wide, dangerous grin on his face.

"Dear me, what an entrance. I wonder, did the door offend you, or was that the result of a lack of proper manners?"

Angel, being the first to poke his head out of the groaning mess of sinners, pointed at you with one of his arms, the others fisted the air in victory.

"A-HA! WE FUCKING DID IT, fuck yeah!"

Niffty, the next one to crawl out of the pile, nodded eagerly.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!", she chanted, jumping up and down excitedly on a groaning Husk's back.

Charlie's face came into view, a guilty look on her face as she untangled the others in a hurry, shoving them out of the door.

"Uh, so, sorry, the door was kinda in the way. Didn't want to interrupt anything, sooo, We're just gonna... get back to cooking."

With her tail between her legs, the flustered princess and her entourage vanished faster than the speed of light, leaving you and Alastor alone with your heart pounding fast, your hands still clutching the front of the overlords jacket, and his arms around your waist in a protective embrace, your breaths mingling.

"Would it bother you terribly if I killed them?", Alastor growled low in his throat, his smile widening.

You just couldn't stop grinning. "As tempting as that is... I rather you don't. For now, that is. Ask me again when they are finished cooking."

He returned your smile. "Fair enough, dear."

He closed the gap between you and his lips meet yours halfway in a soft, and most certainly not-enough-to-last-a-lifetime kind of kiss. You thought you could get used to this.

"I'm sure they can handle lunch by themselves, don't you think?", he hummed into your ear. You didn't trust your voice to reply, and simply nodded.

"Wonderful."

Tagging all commenters on 'More than words', because LOVE @mysterypotatoink @ladyzaunis @penelope-potter @lustylita @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @katgirl05 @deadt3tinside and @minkdelovely (for the daily dose of fluff)

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #quickfic #hazbin hotel niffty #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #fluffy fluff

[neon-junkie]

Troubleshooting

Summary: After the events of Tantiss, Crosshair finds himself with a cybernetic hand, and he knows a way to test all of its capabilities.

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Crosshair x f!Reader

Tags: Established relationship, Fingering, Dirty talk, Cybernetics.

“There,” Tech hums as he shuts the panel over Crosshair’s wrist, securing the instalment. “Give it a try,” he urges, and sits back to watch Crosshair test his new hand.

After the fall of Tantiss, it took Crosshair quite some time to realise what had actually happened. He lost his hand - his shooting hand, at that. Sure, he’s great with his left, but two hands are always better than one, especially if you’re missing your dominant hand.

Given that Echo opted not to have a robot hand installed, it left a spare on the Marauder - an item that everybody had forgotten about, lost in storage, only for it to finally come into use during an unfortunate turn of events.

Of course, you love Crosshair regardless. Hand or not, he’s still your man, and you’ll do everything in your power to support him. That’s why, during pillow talk a week after the event, Crosshair brought up the idea of getting on installed.

“I feel… incomplete,” he explained. He rambled on about his lack of uses, now that he’s missing a hand, and you had to remind him that he is no longer a soldier, and that he can find his new path in life. “Well, it’s difficult to become a fisherman with only one hand,” Crosshair sarcastically responded, earning a laugh from you.

That brings you to today. Tech was more than happy to install it for Crosshair, babbling about how he’s “always excited to work on cybernetic enhancements,” which would explain why Tech is always questioning if Echo needs any repairs.

Crosshair attempts to flex each of his fingers, the joints surprisingly moving with ease, causing Crosshair’s brows to lift in surprise. “Oh,” he mutters under his breath, now stretching his hand out, wiggling and adjusting each digit in every possible manner.

“Your tendons seem to be aligned, but we need to test your agility,” Tech comments.

You sit back and watch the two sync up. Tech gives Crosshair a few simple tasks - playing catch, writing, even tying his shoelaces. A few minor adjustments are made, but eventually, Crosshair decides he’s more than content.

“You know where to find me if you require any alternations,” Tech states as he rises from his seat, eager to head off - not out of impoliteness, but it’s date night, and Tech would never dream of being late for such an occasion.

Crosshair thanks his brother one final time before seeing him out, yourself saying goodbye whilst on the comfort of your sofa. The front door shuts, and Crosshair makes his way over to you, finding his place by your side.

“So,” he drags the word out. “What do you think?” He asks, wiggling his new hand in front of your face.

“It suits you,” you nod, admiring the black chrome. What other colour would Crosshair go for?

“Mhm,” Crosshair nods in agreement. He can’t help but introduce his new hand to yours, entwining your fingertips for the first time. To your surprise, the durasteel is nowhere near as cold as you expected it to be, and each finger is smooth and rounded - no sharp edges or bumps.

Crosshair’s eyes wander over the sight, your hand interlinked with his, something that he’ll never get tired of. “What does it feel like?” he questions, gesturing to the physical contact.

“Like I’m holding a robotic hand,” you reply. Ah, Crosshair is reminded why he fell for you; you match his wit and sarcasm in every way, perhaps more than he can bargain for.

A long sign escapes Crosshair’s lips as his eyes meet yours, disappointment deep within them. “Shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s a smile on his lips.

You let out a cheery hum, matching his smile. A kiss naturally follows, tender pecks on the lips, yet there’s lust within them. Nothing intimate has happened since Tantiss, minus kisses, cuddles, and crying together. You can tell that Crosshair’s confidence is growing with his new image, but is this happening too soon? Doesn’t he need time to adjust first?

In between kisses, Crosshair begins mumbling against your lips. “You love me, right?” he questions.

“Is now the time for reassurance?” you bite back, causing Crosshair to chuckle.

“Just answer the question,” he coos, then places another kiss on your lips.

“Of course, I do,” you confirm.

“And you’d do anything for me, right?”

You softly hum. “Only if you’d do the same for me,” you reply.

“I would,” Crosshair replies without missing a beat, no longer bothering with feather-light kisses. Instead, he’s pouncing on you, allowing lust and desire to drive his intentions. You find yourself lying back on the sofa, legs a tangled mess with your lovers, who is looming over you like a predator teasing its prey.

Among the smooches, tugs appear on your waistband. Crosshair is unbuttoning your pants, and as much as you want him, you’re concerned about his timing. Is this really what he needs after taking such a large step in his recovery? Has his new hand even finished installing?

“Cross-” you mutter against his lips.

“Mhm?” Crosshair pulls his lips away, although his hands don’t give up. He’s pulling each trouser leg off, yanking them over your ankles with frustration - something that he always struggled with.

“Are you sure that this is what you need right now?” You question, concern strong within your tone.

Crosshair picks up on it, and comes to a halt, resting his hands on your plush hips. “It is,” he confirms within an instant. “I need to… test it out…” he explains, raising his robotic hand up to your face. “…and I know just the way to do it.”

If Crosshair is comfortable, then you’re comfortable. And hey, there’s no harm in helping him adjust to his new attachment. If this is how he wants to adjust, then why not?

Sloppy kisses are in full swing yet again, all whilst Crosshair is putting his new hand to good use. Sold fingertips find their way to your clothed mound, trailing back and forth. His pressure changes, testing the waters, finding the balance between firm and soft, and Crosshair knows he’s found it when you let out a whimper.

“There we go,” he sighs, his cock stirring from such a small sound. Before you can reply, Crosshair has his lips back on yours, silencing you whilst his fingers do all the work.

A hook on your waistband, and your panties are being pulled from your hips, thrown across the room to be forgotten about. Firmness appears on your clit, a single digit, rediscovering your body all over again. Crosshair needs to start from scratch, following each step with the understanding that this is all new to both you, and him. Every move, the different levels of pressure, are all things that will take time to adjust to.

“A little firmer,” you comment, and Crosshair complies, ensuring that his touch is just how you like it. He’s circling your clit, causing stars to appear in your line of vision - a blacked out state in between kisses.

Crosshair has to break the kiss to bury his head into the curve of your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline. All the while, his fingertips begin to slip lower, soon testing the waters. A single finger slips into you, firmer than ever. Again, it’s not cold - far from it, yet the sensation is alien. You’ve never had a… robotic finger slip inside you before, crossing off a new box on your list.

“How is it?” Crosshair questions the second that he’s knuckle deep within you. His concern is warranted, although you know he’s also subtly asking for validation.

“Good,” you reply without missing a beat. “Firm and… new, but good.”

“You sure?” he double-checks, to which you agree with a simple, “yeah.”

“You know that, if I have any issues, I’ll tell you,” you inform him. He already knows this - he’s heard it a million times over - but it doesn’t hurt to remind him, especially during a time like this.

“I know,” Crosshair mumbles, his lips still pressed to your throat. “I wish I could still feel you,” he confesses. Only now do you realise the lack of nerves that Crosshair has in his new hand. He can’t feel anything, can he? Not your wetness, or your muscles tensing around him. Nothing.

“I guess we’ll need to train you up on your other hand,” you lighten the mood, not wanting Crosshair to wander into dark thoughts during such an intimate moment. That is a conversation for pillow talk.

“Hm, more opportunities to see you like this,” he purrs, thankfully agreeing with your plan.

Kicking things up a notch, Crosshair begins to work his finger, using a rhythm that he knows works for you. Your hands begin to wander his body, caressing each part of him, especially the growing bulge within his pants.

Your fingertips begin to dance over his buttons, but Crosshair moves your attention away. “Wait-” he stutters, his free hand redirecting your hand to his hips. “This is about testing my hand, alright?”

You can’t help but let out a laugh. “Whatever you say, dear.”

On that note, Crosshair slips another finger inside of you, hushing you within an instant. “Don’t believe me, hm?” he hums, yet you’re failing for words as Crosshair curls his fingers upwards, the firm digits pressing against that spot within you.

In the midst of your lust and admiration, you don’t realise the minor differences to his new hand. Sure, it’s firmer, and in some ways, less intimate, but it’s still him - a new part of him that both of you need to get used to, and what a way to break the ice.

The sound of squelching fills the air, and you can feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure takes over. Crosshair picks at the opportunity to continue his attack on your neck, leaving the first of many hickeys to assert his claim on you. (Perhaps to warn the new clones that you’re already taken?)

You catch yourself muttering his name, over and over, a mix between a chant and a prayer. By now, Crosshair has his clothed, yet erect cock pressed to your inner thigh, rutting against it with every flick of his wrist. He’s so desperate for your touch, yet he refuses to allow his focus to stray from you - or from ‘testing his new hand,’ as he so put it.

“Kriff-” you curse. Allowing your eyes to open, you lock your gaze with your lover, who looks as blissed out as you do. “Cross, you know that… I’m…”

“I know,” he cuts you off. “All over my finger, please. If you’d be so kind,” he replies, wit laced within his words, as always.

The sensation of orgasming around solid digits is one that you’ll have to get used to, yet it’s nothing but pleasurable. Strange, certainly. But far from negative. Crosshair is almost panting as hard as you are, crashing his lips with yours as he continues rutting against you. During the kisses, you reach down to palm over his cock, and finally, he allows you to get a good feel.

“You need some attention,” you comment. Crosshair chuckles, but the laugher is yanked from his lips as you grasp the upper hand, finding a way to flip your positions. You’re now straddling his lap, nude from the waist downwards, whilst Crosshair is fully clothed, (with a soaking wet hand.)

Crosshair grins, oh-so-eager to not only show you some love, but spend the evening getting all of your frustrations out. Oh, all whilst testing his new hand, because that is what this is really about.

There’s desperation within Crosshair’s grasp as he begins unbuckling his pants, eager to start receiving some of his own relief. “Who do you think will wear out first?” you question, your lips against his. “You? Me? Or your hand?”

Starstruck eyes meet yours. Of course, only you could crack a little joke during the heat of things - Crosshair fell for you for a reason, after all.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out,” he bites back.

“You’re on.”

#tbbwriting #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb #tbb crosshair #f!reader #reader insert #smut #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #female reader #nsft #s3 crosshair

[reareaotaku]

Save Me, Baby

Summary: Dick gains his first crush after saving a cute girl from the Penguin Pairings: Dick 'Richard' Grayson x Fem! Reader Tw: None Taglist: N/a

When the alarm started going off in the Batcave, Dick was ecstatic. He had only gone on a few missions with his adoptive father, Bruce, but now was a chance to prove himself.

He was quick to get in the Batmobile, with his Robin suit already on. He smiles up at Batman, which causes Batman to groan, but allow it. The drive was smooth, not to quick, because it was just the penguin.

"It looks like he has hostages." Batman messes with his head unit.

Robin listens with eager ears as Batman continues to tell him what to do. Robin's eyes follow Batman's hands as the hologram shows the Penguin's hostage area.

----

Robin looked at the multiple hostages that were tied up. His attention was drawn to a huge croonie. He smirked, prepping his feet, before kicking in the glass and landing on the croonie. There's a cheer from the hostages, causing Robin to smirk to himself. He messes with each of the ropes, before finally untangling them all.

You were relieved to not have the ropes rubbing against your skin. Robin helped you up, before leading the others outside.

You accidentally tripped on a broken wood piece in the floor, which caused your foot to get stuck.

Robin heard you yell, before looking back and seeing you stuck. "Hey-Here," He grabs you, trying to pull you up, but your foot was really stuck.

You started to freak out when realizing it was now just you and him and everyone else was already out safely.

"Hey, deep breaths. Deep breaths. You'll be fine, Robin's word." He tells you when realizing you were freaking out.

You looked up at him, a little dazed. "You promise?"

"For a pretty girl like you? Of course."

There's a moment of silence, that is occupied by your goofy smiles, before a voice is heard.

"There he is boys- Get him!"

Robin's eyes widen as he finally pulls you out and drags you around, but not outside. It was too dangerous outside. He pulls you into a different dark room, before pulling you up some stairs. Though, when you reach the top, there was Mr. Penguin.

"You've got to be kidding me-" Robin pushes you behind him, as a way to protect you.

"Oh, it's the new Boy Wonder I've heard so much about..." Penguin's smile grows on his face.

You feel someone grab you from behind, causing you to yell. "HEY!"

Robin quickly turns around, "Hey, let her go!" But before he can help you, Penguin knocks Robin out from behind with his umbrella.

---

You woke up disorientated, before groaning when realizing your hands were tied together. Expect this time you were tied to someone else. You struggle against the ropes, which ends up waking up the other person.

"Uhhh- Where am I..?"

To answer his question, the Penguin steps out of the shadow, clanking his cane on the ground. "Oh, lookie what I got."

"Oh, no."

Though before to much could happen, Batman comes out from the shadows and begins to fight the Penguin- Or at least you assume he did, because you couldn't see him. Though, you heard the screams of the bad guys.

You finally do get a glimpse of him when he stands in front of you. He was just as menacing and scary as the media described. He looks past you and at Robin. You hear Robin groan and you can practically feel the shame and disappointment.

---

You're brought into the Batmobile and it was silent. You felt bad, because it was your fault that you and Robin got caught. You wanted to speak, but you were scared of Batman. Though, you decided to finally swallow your fear and speak up.

"Uh.... Mr. Ummm.. Batman- I just wanted to say, it's my fault we got caught. I uh, got- my um s- foot stuck... In the wood."

He doesn't respond, but it feels a little less tense than before. Robin then turns to you a slight smile on your face.

"Don't worry about him. Where do you live, so we can get you home."

---

Batman pulls up to your dinger apartment complex. You still felt awkward because no one was talking. You open the door, but not before saying one last thing.

"You know... Everyone else may hate you guys, but I'm really grateful. Thank you again for saving me." And then you close the door and go to your apartment.

"She's nice." Batman finally speaks.

"Cute too. Wish I would have got her number."

[Might make a part 2?]

#dick x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #robin x reader #yandere robin #yandere robin x reader #richard grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #batman #dc x reader #superhero x reader #yandere superhero

[glitterjay]

lover boy — 양정원 YJW | pt.2

genre: opposites attract, good boy!jungwon x popular!reader (fem) college au, semi smau, d!e/kys jokes

taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @dimplewonie @wvnkoi @kissestojapan

prev | next

DAY 1.

you had to admit you were excited to see what the week would bring for you. the reason why you called jungwon "lover boy" was because he did everything to get his crush to like him back. it was cute if you were being honest, but based on what had happened afterward, you felt like the person didn't deserve jungwon's efforts at all.

he said he'd change, and he's never shown interest in anyone romantically since you met him, let alone after hearing about his past experiences. of course, that happened when he was in high school, but you didn't think it would follow him all the way to his college life.

jungwon was always invested in his classes and work, never really showing his true colors to the world. you, on the other hand, managed to gain a reputation of your own in your field of study. how the two of you clicked so well is anyone's guess, but it was definitely one of the best friendships you had made thus far.

after your first class of the morning was over, you waited in your usual meeting spot for jungwon. it was quite rare for him to be there later than you, but you assumed he had fallen asleep in class or was probably with sunoo doing whatever. it had happened before.

you sat on the small bench under the tree that was just a few steps away. you sighed, stretching your arms a bit after a long, boring lecture. the people walking out of the building dwindled from many to just a few. it made you tilt your head, wondering why your friend wasn't out yet.

suddenly, a pair of hands covered your eyes. it startled you at first, but the cologne that reached your nose gave away the identity of the person behind you.

"jungwon?"

"thats right," he replied.

he removed his hands from your eyes, swiftly placing them under your chin to tilt your head back. he smiled sheepishly, revealing his teeth. your head now rested on his stomach as he stood behind you, caressing your face with his hands.

"lunch is on me today, girlfriend."

his behavior was different from his usual self, but it matched his quiet and serene personality. your last boyfriend matched your crazy and extravagant character, but jungwon was much calmer.

you blushed at the way he had called you "girlfriend." it was different, and you had to admit you liked it. you sat up straight, giving your whole back to him.

"great! i didn't bring any money today, so i was going to ask you to pay anyway."

he knew you were lying, but he wouldn't admit that.

as you both began walking, you noticed how his hand hesitantly tried to grab yours. despite jungwon bringing up the challenge himself, it was cute to see him being nervous. you, being your bold self, took his hand in yours, smiling when his head instantly turned to look at your way.

"Couples hold hands. Isn't that right, boyfriend?"

© glitterjay | tumblr

yup, you probably guessed it right. it will have 7 parts for each day of the week. feedback is very much appreciated, whether its a comment, a reblog, or an ask—anything helps!

#— ✿ c's work! #enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen au #enhypen imagine #enhypen x reader #enha smau #enha imagine #engene #kpop #yang jungwon #jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon x reader

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Fortnight. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: Y/N and Mattheo had a deep love for each other, but a misunderstanding led to a fight and a hasty decisions to lead them to different paths.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , and a lot of angst, strong language.

Words: 3.8k

Mattheo and I sat on the plush armchairs, a suffocating silence stretched between us. We hadn't spoken in hours, not since the argument at the Three Broomsticks.

"Just say it, Y/N," Mattheo finally broke the silence, his voice laced with a frustration that mirrored my own.

"Say what?" I challenged, my own voice tight with unshed tears.

"This," he gestured vaguely between us, "whatever this fight is about. Spit it out."

"It's not a fight, Mattheo," I snapped, the words sharper than I intended. "It's… it's your career choice."

He scoffed, a humorless sound that scraped against my raw nerves. "Here we go again. You think I'm going to be some Ministry drone pushing paper?"

"No! That's not what I—"

"Then what is it?" he interrupted, his voice rising. "What is it you want me to do, Y/N? Follow in your father's footsteps and chase Dark wizards for the rest of my life? Is that what makes a good man?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Where was this coming from? "Mattheo, of course not! It's not about the Ministry or Auror training. It's about…" I faltered, the words catching in my throat.

"About what?" he pressed, his dark brown eyes boring into mine.

"It's about… about you not even considering it," I whispered, the sting of unshed tears burning my eyes.

He seemed to flinch at that, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a bitter laugh escaped his lips. "So that's it? My dreams and aspirations don't matter because they don't fit your perfect Auror wife mold?"

Anger flared within me, hot and destructive. "Don't be ridiculous! It's not about some 'mold'! It's about… about having a future together. A future where we at least talk about these things, where you consider my feelings."

"Your feelings?" He repeated, a humorless smile twisting his features. "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel, Y/N? Like I'm not good enough for you, like my dreams are somehow lesser than yours!"

“No! That's not…" I began, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

"Then what is it, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice tight with held-back emotion. "Do you want me to follow you around like a lost puppy while you explore the world? Is that your idea of a future together?"

"That's not what I meant… you know it's not!"

He took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with a newfound resolve. "Maybe not," he conceded, his voice devoid of warmth. "But maybe that's enough."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone, the weight of his unspoken words crushing me. Pride, that stubborn, suffocating thing, kept me rooted to the spot. I should have chased after him, explained myself, begged him to stay.

But the words wouldn't come. We were both too caught up in the sting of hurt, our love momentarily overshadowed by a misunderstanding neither of us had the courage to unravel.

That was the last time I saw him.

The weight of his final words hung heavy, each syllable a tiny hammer blow to my already fractured heart. We were supposed to spend the summer solidifying our plans, weaving our dreams together. Instead, we were left with a tangled mess of unspoken desires and a chasm of wounded pride.

Days bled into weeks, each sunrise a fresh reminder of his absence. I clung to the hope that he'd return, that this was just a lovers' spat, a temporary blip in our otherwise perfect story. I kept expecting to see his familiar silhouette at the window, to hear his knock on the worn wooden door.

Foolishly, I refused to believe that our fight, fueled by misunderstandings and misplaced anger, could be the end.

But the days stretched into agonizing silence. No owl arrived with a heartfelt apology, no apologetic voice graced the other end of the floo network. My phone, a muggle invention I rarely used, remained stubbornly quiet. The silence was deafening, a constant reminder of the gaping hole his absence left in my life.

Finally, the day arrived for my departure to France. Packing was a blur, each item I folded a silent goodbye to the life I'd envisioned with Mattheo. I clung to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd show up at the station, a last-minute attempt to mend what was broken. But the platform remained empty, save for the bustling crowd of eager travelers.

Did he leave Hogwarts? Where did he go? Desperate for answers, I reached out to his closest friend, Theo. His reply was short: "Ireland. Apprenticeship with some Potions Master."

With a heavy heart, I boarded the train, the rhythmic click-clack of the wheels echoing the beat of my shattered heart.

Five Years Later:

My fingers traced the spine of a well-worn copy of "Advanced Potion-Making." Lost in thought, I barely registered the figure brushing past me until a familiar voice sent a jolt through my system.

"Excuse me," the voice said, polite yet laced with a hint of amusement. "Do you happen to know where they keep their floo powder?"

I turned, my breath catching in my throat. Standing there, looking every bit the accomplished Potions Master, was Mattheo. Five years had passed and he looked even more handsome if that was even possible, but his eyes – those dark brown eyes that still held the power to disarm me – were unmistakable.

For a moment, we were frozen in time, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between us. A thousand unspoken words hung heavy in the air – apologies, explanations, the weight of years spent apart.

"Y/N" He finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. 

I managed a shaky nod, surprised at how easily the name slipped past my lips. "Mattheo."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, a hint of the old mischief I remembered. "Auror Y/L/N, I presume? Quite the impressive career you've built for yourself."

"And you," I countered, forcing a lightness into my voice that I didn't quite feel. "Master Alchemist, they say.Congratulations."

He chuckled, a low, melodic sound that echoed in the quiet bookstore. "Exaggerations, but the work keeps me busy."

An awkward silence descended, heavy with unspoken questions. Did he know about France? About the scholarship? Did he ever regret leaving? The urge to blurt it all out, to bridge the chasm of the past five years, warred with the fear of rejection.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "So, floo powder?" he gestured towards the back of the store.

"Right," I stammered, leading the way with a pounding heart. "Second shelf on the left."

As we walked, a million questions danced on my tongue, but before I could voice any of them, he spoke again.

"How are you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with a hesitant.

I lifted my chin, forcing a smile. "I'm doing great," I replied, meeting his gaze head-on. I lied, the words hollow in my mouth.

"I'm glad," he said, a flicker of something crossing his face that I couldn't place.

We reached the shelf and retrieved the floo powder. As I handed it to him, our fingers brushed. A jolt of electricity shot through me, a stark reminder of the connection that still simmered beneath the surface. Both of us pulled our hands away quickly, as if scalded.

"Did you meet someone?" he blurted out, his voice betraying his usual composure.

The question hung in the air, a painful echo of the unresolved past. "I've been focusing on work," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. And I'm trying to move on from you still, I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"What about you?" I managed, my voice shaky.

A shadow crossed his face. "It's complicated," he said, and my heart shattered. He met someone, and it's complicated with them, while I'm still here, nursing the wounds of a love lost.

I plastered a smile on my face, forcing back the tears threatening to spill over. "It was nice to see you again, Mattheo," I said, trying to sound genuine. And to my surprise, a flicker of pain mirrored mine in his eyes.

"Me too," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

And with that, he tossed the floo powder into the fireplace, disappearing in a swirl of emerald flames. I stood there, alone amidst the lingering scent of his cologne and the ghosts of a love that might have been, my heart heavy with a renewed ache.

Two years later

The cheers echoed around me, a cacophony of joy and pride. My family and friends beamed, their faces flushed with excitement.

Tonight was the culmination of years of relentless work. I had secured the biggest Auror investment in Ministry history, a project that would revolutionize magical law enforcement. It was a dream come true, a shining testament to everything I'd poured my heart and soul into.

Yet, amidst the celebration, a hollowness resonated within me. The champagne flute felt heavy in my hand, the celebratory clinking of glasses a jarring counterpoint to the deafening silence within. 

Success, once the ultimate goal,tasted like ashes on my tongue.

I excused myself, slipping away to the secluded balcony overlooking the bustling city. The cool night air wrapped around me as I leaned against the railing, gazing at the luminous moon, a silent witness to my fractured happiness. Seven years. It had been seven years since that fateful night, the night a misunderstanding ripped our world apart.

Mattheo. The name echoed in the quiet corners of my mind, a bittersweet melody. I never wanted to break up with him.The memory of that fight remained a vivid scar, a constant reminder of the words left unsaid, the choices I hadn't had the courage to make. Deep down, I knew, with a certainty that transcended time, that I would have chosen him over everything – my career, my dreams.

Two years ago, that unexpected encounter at the bookstore had ripped open the scabbed wound. Seeing him again, alive and breathing, reignited a flicker of hope. But the news of someone else in his life, the complicated entanglement,extinguished it as quickly.

A sob escaped my lips, a tear tracing a warm path down my cheek. The celebratory chatter from inside seemed miles away, a muted echo in a world devoid of sound. The clinking glass in my hand remained untouched, a forgotten symbol of a victory that felt hollow.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring the city lights below. I wasn't crying for the career I built, nor for the recognition I finally received. I was crying for the love lost, for the unspoken words, for the future we could have had. I was crying for the silence that resonated louder than any cheer, a silence filled with the weight of "what ifs" and the haunting melody of a love song forever unfinished.

The move-on drugs they all are temporary.

A loud banging startled me awake. I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and peered out the window. A moving truck stood parked in the driveway next door, boxes stacked precariously in its open back. A knot of apprehension tightened in my stomach. A new neighbor.

The next day, the evidence of their arrival was clear – vibrant flower pots adorned the previously bare porch. A woman knelt before them, her hands gently adjusting the soil. As I caught her eye, she flashed a warm smile. I returned it, a small flicker of hope igniting within me for a friendly connection.

Before leaving for work the following morning, I saw her outside again.

"Hi there, I'm Gianna," she said, extending a hand. "We just moved in, my husband and I."

I shook her hand, forcing a smile. "Y/N," I replied. "I live right next door. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"That's so kind of you, thanks!" she chirped.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from inside the house. My smile vanished. That voice, deep and familiar, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"Coming, my love!" Gianna called back, her sweetness radiating even over the distance. "Can you give me a second outside, please?"

A figure emerged from the house, his form momentarily obscured by the doorway. Then, he stepped into the sunlight, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. It was Mattheo.

Everything froze. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the chirping of birds the only sound breaking the deafening silence. My breath hitched in my throat, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.

"Mrs. Y/L/N," he finally managed, his voice tight.Then, he glanced towards Gianna, a subtle shift in his expression.

I tried to maintain a veneer of normalcy, but my voice betrayed me. "Mr. Riddle," I replied, the title a barbed wire fence between us.

"We used to go to Hogwarts together," I said, forcing a lightness that felt utterly false. My insides were a churning mess of emotions.

"She's being humble, Mrs. Y/L/N," Mattheo said, his next words a dagger through my heart. "She secured the biggest Auror investment in Ministry history. Quite impressive."

Those words, once a symbol of pride, now hung heavy in the air, a cruel reminder of the chasm that separated us. This was his life now, married, settled. While I, despite my achievements, was still left with the lingering ache of a love lost.

Gianna, blissfully unaware, beamed. "Oh my goodness, that's absolutely fantastic!" Her smile was so genuine, her eyes so kind, that a wave of self-loathing washed over me. Here was a woman radiating warmth and sunshine, and all I felt was a twisted mix of envy and despair.

"Thank you," I croaked, the word scraping against my throat. "I need to get going. It was... lovely to meet you." I forced a smile to her and, managed a small nod towards Mattheo

My legs turned to lead as I walked away, every step a struggle. , refusing to break eye contact for even a fleeting second. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between us, a poignant reminder of the life we could have had.

As I walked away, my legs felt like lead. I didn't dare look back, afraid of what I might see. Reaching my car, I slumped behind the wheel, tears blurring my vision. The sobs came then, a torrent of grief and jealousy that threatened to drown me.

He was married. To a woman who was everything I wasn't – warm, cheerful, seemingly perfect. My successful career, once a source of immense pride, felt like a hollow trophy in the face of this devastating realization.

Once safely inside my car, parked far away from the house, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless. Sobs wracked my body as the full weight of the situation slammed into me. He was married. To an angel, by all appearances. Sweet, kind Gianna, whose happiness felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

The joy of my achievements, once a beacon in the darkness, seemed to dim. All I could see was the life I might have had, the love that slipped through my fingers, all because of a misunderstanding and a misplaced sense of pride.

Daniel had been asking me out for years. A kind, successful Ministry scientist, he was everything one could want on paper. Yet, his invitations always landed on deaf ears. My heart, still clinging to the shattered remnants of a love lost to a misunderstanding, had no room for new beginnings.

He'd been asking me out for years, and in the numb aftermath of seeing Mattheo with his wife, Gianna, I found myself saying yes.

Yes to a date, yes to another date, yes to sleepovers, yes to becoming his girlfriend. Then, in a blur of emotional chaos, yes to becoming his wife. It happened fast, a desperate attempt to fill the gaping hole in my heart.

The white dress felt heavy, suffocating. The lace trimmings brushed against my skin like a constant reminder of the life I wasn't living. Daniel, handsome and successful, stood beside me, beaming with pride. Yet, as the priest declared us husband and wife, I closed my eyes, and the image that filled my mind wasn't his.

The kiss felt like a performance. My lips brushed against Daniel's, a hollow touch that mirrored the emptiness within me. Applause erupted around us, a joyous cacophony that somehow felt distant, muted. My smile was practiced, a mask for the turmoil raging inside.

As congratulations poured in, I felt a tear roll down my cheek, a solitary drop staining the pristine white of my wedding dress. It wasn't a tear of joy, but a tear of grief, a tear for a love lost, a tear for a life that could have been.

Months bled into one another, each day a monotonous echo of the last. Living with Daniel was like existing in a carefully curated museum exhibit – everything pristine, perfectly placed, yet utterly devoid of life. Our interactions had become a practiced dance – polite smiles, small talk about work, and a hollow routine that felt more like obligation than affection.

Even sex with Daniel felt mundane. Today, as he thrust into me, I felt nothing but a desire for it to end so I could finally sleep. His heavy breaths and quick finish only added to the monotony. With one final thrust, he came and collapsed on top of me. I didn't bother faking an orgasm; there was no point. I simply didn't care anymore.

"Do you want me to help you with—" he started to say, but I cut him off.

"No, I'm going to shower," I replied, getting off the bed.

"I promise next time I'll make sure you cum first," he offered.

"Sure, whatever," I responded dismissively.

I couldn't feel anything, not even the pain. Numbness consumed me, and I moved through life like a robot. So, when I received a message about my husband cheating, it didn't even register.

I went to the location mentioned in the message, using my wand to open the door. Inside, I found Daniel with Sandra, one of our colleagues. They were oblivious to my presence, lost in a passionate moment.

He was everything he wasn't with me. His hand caressed her cheek with a tenderness I hadn't seen before. Words spilled from his lips, sweet nothings that he must have forgotten existed in our vocabulary. "I love you, Sandra," he murmured,his voice husky with passion. "It's always been you."

And he made her fucking cum .

As they finished, I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. Sandra gasped, and Daniel tumbled off the bed when they noticed me. Without giving him a chance to speak, I cut through the tension. "I need a divorce," I said simply, then turned and walked away.

I don't know how long I'd been wandering, aimlessly traversing the deserted park, the night sky a tapestry of uncaring stars. My legs finally gave out, and I sank onto a damp bench, the chill seeping into my bones unnoticed. Tears had become a constant companion, blurring the already indistinct world.

Then, a rustle beside me. I looked up, startled, to see Mattheo perched on the opposite end of the bench. Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, the dam broke, and the words tumbled out, a torrent of raw pain and frustration.

"He was cheating on me," I confessed, my voice hoarse. "I felt nothing for him, yet I married him anyway. How foolish can one person be?" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. "I want to strangle him," I added, surprising myself with the dark intensity. "Why would he even marry me if he was in love with her?"

"Y/N," Mattheo said, his voice gentle, "It's not that simple. Sometimes we make choices based on what we think is right, what seems the safest path. We try to play it safe, and sometimes, we live to regret those decisions."

"But it has to stop we need to control it so what Daniel did is unforgivable," he continued, his gaze holding mine. "We've caused enough hurt. We can't keep dragging innocent people into our mess."

I nodded, wiping at the tears that streamed down my face. This wasn't about Daniel anymore. It was about the truth that hung heavy between us, the words I'd buried for years.

"I was going to choose you, Mattheo," I whispered, my voice cracking. "If you had just listened, if you hadn't…” My voice hitched, the pain raw and exposed. "If you hadn't disappeared, I would have told you that France, that any achievement wouldn't have mattered without you."

For the first time in years, I felt a sense of catharsis, a release from the burden I'd carried for so long.

"I know," Mattheo said, sadness etching lines on his face. "That's why I didn't show up. Your dream was so important, and I couldn't take that away from you."

A sob escaped my lips, not for Daniel, but for the life we could have had, the love we'd let slip through our fingers.

"But it wasn't as important as you," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

The longing in his eyes mirrored my own, a silent acknowledgment of the love that still burned beneath the ashes of time. Yet, a shadow crossed his face, a stark reminder of the reality that lay beyond this stolen moment.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice thick with regret.

"Me too," I replied, the words a bittersweet release.

"I love you, Mattheo. And it’s running my life. I'm leaving after my divorce is finalized. And this time, I'm not coming back."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a deep sadness.

"It's selfish to say," he admitted, his voice barely audible, "but you're the love of my life and that will never change,Y/N."

We sat in silence, tears falling freely now, a shared grief for what could have been and the bittersweet acceptance of the present.

Looking at my watch, I realized it was late. "You should go," I said, my voice hoarse. "Don't make her worry."

He nodded slowly, his eyes lingering on mine. "At least," he said, his voice husky, "at least we got to say goodbye properly this time."

"Yes," I croaked, the words a bittersweet echo hanging in the air. "We did."

As he stood up, I took one last look at him, the image forever etched into my memory. Then, with a heavy heart, I watched him disappear back into the darkness, leaving me alone with the ghosts of our past. This wasn't a happy ending, but it was a closure, a bittersweet farewell to a love story that didn’t get the chance to be.

Maybe, in another life, under different circumstances, that wall wouldn't have existed. 

Maybe, in another life, our dreams wouldn't have clashed, and our paths would have intertwined. But this wasn't that life. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #thetorturedpoetsdepartmentmasterlist #the tortured poets dept #taylor swift ttpd #ttpd #ttpdmasterlist

[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“So? You coming or not?” Simon asks and takes a small sip of his whiskey. 

“To a ball? You know I'm not one for that kind of stuff!” you respond and throw a wet rag on the counter and start rubbing the stains off the black marble. 

“I'm asking you to come with me... as my date... and it won’t be that long. I promise. We’ll get out of there whenever you want.” he mentions, eyeing you from the edge of the glass that meets his lips once again. 

“Fine! But I can’t promise to be good company. I have no idea what to do in that kind of setting!” you say with a light chuckle. 

“You’re always the perfect company, love. And don’t worry about it. Just stay by my side and look pretty... as you always do.” he mutters the last part, but your sharp hearing doesn’t miss it. 

You smile and look over at him, noticing the slightly flustered look written on his face which makes your smile even wider, “Thank you.” you murmur as quietly with a bashful smile and of course he catches that. 

“Wait! When even is this ball?” you ask, remembering that he never mentioned it. 

“Tonight!” he replies, “What?! I can’t get ready ‘till then! Simon, what the hell?! I don’t even have a proper dress!” you say in an agitated tone, a shocked expression etched on your face. 

He only chuckles and places his credit card on the counter, “Go buy yourself a dress. I'll pick you up at 7.” he says nonchalantly and leaves. 

‘bloody fuckin’ hell’ you grumble under your breath and let out a frustrated sigh, deciding to close up early to go get ready for the ball. 

And it slowly starts to dawn on you. He has literally asked you on a date! Why would he if he didn’t like you? 

And soon, the familiar butterflies return dancing in your belly and you look around the bar to make sure no one is there before letting out a loud squeal like a school girl! 

----- 

He picks you up at 7 sharp in a black Rolls Royce. 

His breath hitches in his throat the moment you walk out the door in your beautiful dress, all dolled up and pretty... not that you weren’t before... you’re always beautiful in his eyes. 

“You look beautiful, dove.” he mentions before kissing your forehead, “You’re not too bad yourself! You clean up nice, Mr. Riley!” you say with your gorgeous smile while lightly touching the collar of his suit. 

‘you’re gonna be the death of me!’ he thinks to himself as he gazes into your beautiful eyes, the very eyes that have stolen his heart. 

“Shall we?” you ask and he gestures to the driver to open the door for you. 

Most of the drive there is silent... but a comfortable, peaceful silence. It's never awkward with him. You've always liked spending time together in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

----- 

You arrive at your destination, the fancy ballroom and all the pretentious people smiling and laughing together, acting as if they’re friends when in reality, they will stab each other in the back without hesitation if the opportunity arises. 

But you manage to keep a joyous and warm facade as you mingle with the other guests and the night goes fairly smoothly. 

Apart from the nosey people asking if you two are in a relationship only for you to deny and say you’re only good friends much to your own dismay in order not to embarrass him or make him uncomfortable. 

But what you don’t notice is the disappointed look on his face every time you mention that you’re nothing but friends. 

But there is something you do notice. You spot the familiar figure in the distant corner of the room. A man you have seen at the bar on a few occasions. 

Who is he? Is he following you? 

There's a slight churn in your stomach at the mere thought of it and you tell Simon that you’re not feeling well. 

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the car to take you home as soon as you mention it to him.

-----

“Simon?!" you call out nervously as you see a vehicle approaching in the rear-view mirror when you're halfway from your home.

"I think someone is following us!” you say, but it’s too late as you hear shots firing and then... nothing.

@luvecarson

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare

[strawberrynull]

──౨ৎ ˙💌 ̟ hallway crush (Ep.1)

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: idol!niki x afab!idol!reader

──Genre: fluff, angst

──Synopsis: Hybe is home to many idol groups including Enhypen and Jung Y/n's group, Star Stride. Most of the idols are friends from being a part of the same company. Suddenly, Nishimura Riki is enamored by the beauty of a girl who has never even thought about him.

──Warnings: cursing

──A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I know this was meant to be a oneshot but I had too many ideas and now it's being turned into a series. Whoops... FOLLOW FOR CHAPTER 2 !!!

masterlist

Nishimura Riki strode through the halls of the Hybe building. The sounds of footsteps and typing coming from the big open staff room. An exhausted sigh fell from his lips. He had just gotten finished with his private dance lessons and was on his way back to his dorm. The other Enhypen members had been waiting to serve dinner. It was already 8:46pm. Before Riki had started taking extra dance lessons, the members would eat together at 8. Despite telling them to just eat without him, they decided against it and stated that they would all wait for him to get home every weekday. Now Riki was rushing down the hallway to get home so him and everyone else could eat.

The boy quickened his steps. He didn't want the other members to wait for him for too long. Looking down at his phone, he almost didn't notice the girl he was about to run straight into. As soon as he lifted his head, he was face to face with the girl, only a few inches away from colliding. Riki quickly weaved to get out of her way. The gaze of her big pretty eyes flickered to him only for a split second as they both stepped to the side to avoid running into each other. In the passing moment he had seen her, he got a glimpse of just how gorgeous she was. She bowed quickly before running off. Her hair bounced slightly with each lively step she took. She was absolutely breathtaking.

Then it hit him that he had never even seen that girl before. His mind began racing with the endless possibilities. Could she be a staff member? She was way too pretty and fashionable to be a staff member. So then was she an idol? If so, he had never even noticed her up until now. He was so sure that he knew all the other Hybe idols. After a lot of thought, he decided to safely assume that she was from the new group that had debuted a few months ago.

In a hurry, he made his way back to the dorm where the other members had been waiting. Though he was no longer concerned with how long he had made them wait. All he wanted to do was figure out who that girl was. As soon as the door slammed open, Riki was already yelling to his band mates from the doorway.

"What's that new girl group that debuted this year?" He asked, throwing off his shoes.

"Star Stride. We literally have a show with them in two weeks." Jake yelled back, telling him to pay better attention. The others laughed at his ignorance.

"Star Stride... great. Thanks." He said quickly.

"Dinner is on the counter. I just took it back out of the oven because it-" Without another word, Riki made his way to his dorm room. He cut Heeseung off, shutting the door behind him. "...got cold. God damn it Riki." The rest of the members gave acrimonious groans, and sighs as he left them there to eat alone after they had waited for him for an hour.

In his room, Riki plopped down onto his bed, already searching for Star Stride on his phone. He opened Spotify and pressed play on their most recent album. While the music played, he began looking up the members, hoping to find the girl from the hallway. Of course he had to find out who you were. Star Stride had 5 members since a star has 5 points. Finally, after looking up 4 other members, he had looked up Star Strides main rapper. The girl was identical to the girl he had seen in the hallway. Riki quickly sat up in his bed, eyes wide as he scrolled through pictures of her.

"Jung Y/n. She's even the main rapper?" he muttered to himself, cupping a hand to his face to hide the smile creeping onto his lips. He was already flustered by the similarities the two of them shared. With his heart racing in his chest, he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful pictures of her from Star Strides most recent album. He was so focused on her that nobody could get him to leave his dorm room for the rest of the night. Not even to eat the dinner that they had all waited to eat.

For the next few days, Riki would roam the hall he had last seen Jung Y/n in. He would patrol that one hallway from 8:30pm until 9 o'clock in hopes to see her again. While pacing the halls, he would plan what he would say to the girl the next time he saw her strolling down the same hallway. The other members were already mad at him for skipping dinner last night. Now they were even more frustrated when he had started coming home even later than he had promised. Riki had better plans than sitting and eating dinner at a reasonable time. His infatuation had become a concern when he had skipped dinner for the third day in a row. He just had to see Y/n again. There was no way he could calmly eat without seeing her again.

It had been around a week since he had seen y/n for the first time. He hadn't seen her again yet but Riki wasn't giving up hope. In the past week, he had come up with a whole script for what he would say to her. He had even planned out how to look cool so maybe she would think he was handsome. What a sly boy.

Then he saw the same beautiful girl round the corner. There she was. Walking in the same direction she had been walking the last time Riki saw her. She was stunning. Her hair was now in a high ponytail that swayed behind her as she strode down the hallway. Her pretty eyes were focused on the stack of papers in her arms. She was quickly getting closer to Riki. This was his chance to talk to her. She was only a mere 10 feet away from him. Then 5. Then 2. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He was completely frozen in place. He could only mutter a small "ah-". Y/n saw Riki and bowed, giving a quick hello before walking off just like the last time.

Fuck

He had screwed up his one chance to talk to her. Riki had waited a whole week for this moment and of course he had to choke up and let the chance slip through his fingers. Giving a heavy sigh, Riki slapped a palm to his forehead. Going after her would be weird and calling out to her would disrupt the staff room. He was at a dead end. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking back to the dorms in defeat.

About to round the corner to the staircase, he huffed in frustration before he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a timid Y/n staring up at him through thick dark lashes. His mouth went dry and all the moisture had gone to his palms which were sweating profusely. He gulped almost comically and he worried that she had noticed his nervousness. It was really her, Jung Y/n, and she was right in front of him. She had purposefully stopped him to talk to him! Riki felt like he was dreaming. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking Riki from his trance.

"Uh.. You're Nishimura Riki from Enhypen, right?" She asked formally. Her voice was small and shy. The complete opposite of what he had expected from the main rapper of Star Stride. She was also insanely cute and petite compared to his height. He expected a rapper to be more mature in looks. But this girl looked sweet and fragile. When he didn't answer, she tilted her head slightly, awaiting a response.

"O-oh yeah. Just call me Riki. You don't have to speak formally." he chuckled nervously, looking anywhere but at the girl in front of him. If he gave in and looked at her, he feared he might get lost staring at her features once again.

"I just wanted to tell you that it's an honor to be on a show with Enhypen next week." She explained, bowing deeply. Rikis eyes widened at how kind and pure-hearted she was. But before he could even respond, Y/n was off in the direction she had been going before.

Suddenly he was overjoyed to have Enhypen featured on a show with Star Stride.

(Riki talks about speaking formally because, even though this is written in english, they are speaking korean. In korea, you are expected to speak formally to everyone unless you are extremely close. Of course Y/n and Riki aren't close so Y/n uses formal speech. Riki tells her to speak casually but until stated otherwise, she will continue to speak formally with honorifics.)

© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You

#enhypen #enha #kpop #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen angst #enha angst #enhypen niki #niki enhypen #niki #niki x reader #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki angst #nishimura riki #riki #enhypen riki #riki x reader #riki imagines #riki fluff #riki angst #enhablr #strawberrynull #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake sim

[luvj4key]

home. my home - nrk

pairing: bf!riki x gn!reader genre: fluff, established relationship word count: 615 warnings: kissing, affection, VERY soft luvj4key's note: this was written for my lovebug @j4keluver <3 tysm for requesting this :') this was a blast to write and i hope i did you justice <33

you were pulled out of your light slumber by the sudden feeling of an arm snaking around your waist followed by a soft kiss on your shoulder. you don’t even remember falling asleep. all that you were able to recall was that you were scrolling through tiktok, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from work - nothing new. but apparently you weren’t able to win the battle against sleepiness this time. 

you rolled over on your other side and was met with ni-ki’s soft yet tired gaze. “hey beautiful” he said, moving his hand up to stroke the top of your head. your heart instantly melted at his touch.

“hey ki,” you said in a sleep tone, “when did you get home?”

“not too long ago,” he yawned, “i saw that you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you so i just quickly showered,” he paused, “i’ve seen you asleep so many times but i will never get over how cute you look when you are”

“don’t even,” you scoffed, “i probably look all gross, drooling all over the place” you rolled back onto your back, putting your arm over your eyes.

ni-ki moves down your arm, “don’t say that, you always look cute” he laughed and pulled you closer to him - lowkey forcing you to roll back over to face him. 

once you do, he pinches your cheek causing your face to scrunch up. “what’s up with you tonight?”

“i just missed you… a lot more than usual for some reason” he answered, seeming somewhat bashful.

“ki” you pouted, “we could’ve called when you were on break” you brought your hand up to his cheek, gently caressing it with your knuckles. he leaned into your touch then moved his head over to press a kiss against your hand. 

“my phone died,” he groaned, “so it made it ten times worse”

“of course it did,” you laughed, “no wonder”

“at least i’m home with you now,” he breathed out, pulling you into his chest allowing you to snuggle against it. “you’re my home” he murmured.

you doubted your ears for a moment. did you hear what you thought you just heard? “what’d you say?” you asked softly, leaning your head up to meet his eyes.

“hm?’ he smiled, massaging the back of your head.

“what was the last part you said, ki?” 

“that you’re my home.” he said - as if it was nothing.

you went silent for a moment to process his words. it caught you off guard - not in the bad way. you knew ni-ki loved you. you really do. he made sure it was known every moment you had together. but for him to say that you were home to him, of course you needed a moment to let it sink in. you mustn’t have noticed that your eyes welled up with tears because ni-ki nuzzles his nose against yours - something he would usually do to comfort you and make you smile, which he claims is effective but to you it only made you want to cry even more. 

“i am?” your voice cracked.

“you are y/n, you’re who i always want to come home to. you make me feel complete.”

without needing to say anything else, you pull him into a kiss to which he happily returns. after you pull away from each other, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into your chest. “i love you so much ki”

“i love you more y/n. believe me.” he replies sleepily. 

a few moments pass only to be met with silence as the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling at home. your forever home.

©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost

#luvj4key's collection💌 #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfics #ni ki imagines #ni ki scenarios #ni ki x reader #ni ki fluff #ni ki drabbles #ni ki soft hours #ni ki fanfics

[orchideous-nox]

@rosekillermicrofic // may 2nd - dread // word count - 387

Barty felt like he had been dunked in ice as the mouth of the empty butterbeer bottle pointed towards Evan. Never had he felt such dread at the prospect of being shut in a broom cupboard with someone for seven minutes, but as he’d spun the bottle, Barty had prayed to Merlin that it would land on anyone but Evan. Not because he didn’t want to kiss him, never had he wanted to kiss anyone more, but because he didn’t know how to go back to normal once the time was up.

“We don’t have to-” Barty started, but Evan raised an eyebrow with a smirk as he got to his feet.

“Are you rejecting me, Barty Crouch Jr? Never known you to say no to a quick snog in a broom cupboard before.” For a second, Barty hesitated until Evan held out a hand to help him up. From the corner of his eye, he could see Dorcas watching him, the only person who knew the reason he hadn’t immediately jumped to his feet.

“Of course not, Rosie, you’re right to be so eager.” Normal composure restored, Barty took Evan’s hand and stood up, following him to the broom cupboard and closing the door to start the timer.

It took a minute of Barty awkwardly shuffling about before he stopped ignore the other boy, not wanting to throw himself at Evan and seem desperate to know the taste of his lips. When he looked up, however, Evan was stood close enough that Barty could feel his breath on him. His tongue ran over his bottom lip like a dare, and Barty was never one to turn down a challenge, launching forward and kissing Evan roughly.

Time passed too fast, hands gripping clothing, tugging to keep each other close as lips chased each other until a fist pounded against the door.

“Time’s up!” Regulus shouted through the wood, and Barty expected Evan to step back and shrug, that it had meant nothing but a few minutes of pleasure. But he didn’t.

“Fuck off, Reggie, we’re busy.” Evan called out before kissing Barty again. And that was how seven minutes in heaven got banned in their group, because seven turned into seventeen before they eventually fell out of the cupboard and disappeared towards the dorms hand in hand.

#rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #rosekiller fanfiction #rosekiller fic #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #evan x barty #barty x evan #evan rosier #marauders #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #harry potter

[chgridlock]

Fine. LN- pt 2.

Part. 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/chgridlock/749224119672995840/fine-ln-series-1

Y/n and Lando were childhood best friends, an inseparable duo who knew each other’s secrets like the back of their hand. But then came F1. Lando transformed into a playboy prince, his name synonymous with champagne showers and a different model on every arm. Models just like y/n, except for her. Disgusted, she distanced herself, the warmth of their friendship replaced by a biting cold. Y/n, chasing her own dreams, blossomed into a sough-after model, gracing the covers of magazines right under Lando’s nose, well, at least that’s what she assumed. In taught, Lando followed her religiously on social media, a secret admirer hidden behind a facade of arrogante.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, ex best friends au, Lando being a little dick

The torrential downpour caught me off guard, it was way worst now, transforming the picturesque cobblestone streets into a treacherous obstacle course. My flimsy jacket offered little protection against the relentless onslaught, and my heels sank precariously into the slick pavement with each step. I was a comical sight, a clumsy ballet dancer struggling against the elements.

Lando watched from the car, his initial annoyance replaced by a growing sense of unease. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt stab at his heart. Perhaps he had been too hard. Seeing you struggle, your once defiant stance replaced by a comical awkwardness, chipped away at his resolve.

He sighed, a heavy exhale that fogged up the windshield for a moment. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the car back into park, the engine sighing softly to a halt. The silence outside was broken only by the relentless drumming of the rain in the roof.

“Just get back in…” he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the downpour. I could sense the shame in his eyes, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before it was masked by his gruff demeanor.

I couldn’t help but scoff at his suggestion. “Oh, really?” I drawled, my voice dripping with sarcasm. With a flick of my damp hair, I sashayed past the car, the precariousness of my heel adding an element of defiance to my movements. “Who does he think he is for real…” I think to myself.

Lando watched me go, a wave of frustration washing over him. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sound echoing hollowly in the car. “Damn it…” he muttered, more to himself than anything else.

“Can you just get back in the car?” He yelled, his voice laced with exasperation. “Do you have any idea how stubborn you are right now?” The rain blurred his vision as he looked out at my retreating figure, a sense of helplessness gnawing at him.

“You literally said ‘get out’” i retorted, my voice barely a whisper carried on the wind. I stopped, turning to face him, my posture stiff and defiant despite the rain cascading down my face. “It’s not my fault that you’re so-“

He cut me off, his voice rising in frustration. “I said ‘get out’ because you were being difficult…” he explained, the words tumbling out in a rush. But even to his own ears, they sounded hollow.

“Difficult?” I scoffed, the sound laced with a hurt that mirrored his own.

“It’s no my fault that you’re so stubborn and unreasonable that you’d rather walk in this heavy rain and get soaked to the bone than accept my help.”

I stood there, a defiant island in a sea of rain, my jacket clutched protectively around my shivering form. I met his gaze, a silent battle of wills playing out between us. The air crackled with unspoken emotions.

He glared at you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger. His patience had worn thin, freaked by your defiance like a threadbare rope. Dealing with this felt like navigating a minefield, one wrong step and the whole thing would explode.

“Fine,” he spat, the word laced with venom. “Walk home alone in the rain. Be an idiot. Just know that I don’t care if you catch a chill or a fever.”

He revved the engine, the sound growling in the quiet street. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his features as he glanced at you in the rearview mirror. But the satisfaction curdled quickly, replaced by something akin to worry again. How can you do this to him? You felt like a drug he can’t let go.

You stood there, a solitary figure dwarfed by the storm, your bravado slowly dissolving as the rain soaked through your clothes. Seeing you like that, shivering and defiant, chipped away at his resolve. He couldn’t understand why he care. He didn’t want to care.

But you irritated him so much, that the line between annoyance and concern became blurred. He slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. Before he couldn’t think twice, he was out of the car, his boots splashing through the puddles separating you.

He approached you, his jaw clenched tight. He wanted to scream at you, to shake some sense into your stubborn head. But the anger simmered just below the surface, overshadowed by a strange protectiveness he couldn’t explain. He stood in front of you, towering over your rain-soaked form, the unspoken conflict swirling between you thick enough to touch.

“Can you please come in the car now?” He finally managed, his voice rough around the edges. A hint of exasperation lingered, but beneath it, a softer note resonated- concern. Your Lan. “Your clothes are all soaked. I’ll drive you home.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a command, albeit a reluctant one. You sighed, the sound heavy with a concession he wasn’t entirely sure he’d earned.

“Fine,” you mumbled, defeat lacing you voice. “Just because my feet are killing me.”

He rolled his eyes, a flicker of annoyance persisting despite the relief that washed over him. “Then come on”

He extended his hand towards you, a silent invitation. His voice remained gruff, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

“I can go alone,” you challenged, a hint of defiance clinging to your voice.

He rolled his eyes again, exasperation bubbling back up. “Don’t be stubborn. Take my goddamn hand.”

He barked the order, clearly annoyed. His anger, like a storm cloud, was threatening to engulf the fragile truce that had just been established. But the moment your fingers brushed his, a jolt of electricity sit through him, a forgotten memory come alive. Your touch, oh, how he’d missed it. Nothing in the world felt quite as right as the way your hand fit perfectly in his.

He gripped your hand tightly, the warmth seeping through your damp clothes, a silent reassurance in the midst of the storm. His eyes, however, remained stormy, reflecting the inner turmoil he refused to acknowledge. As he walked you back to the car, a grange protectiveness washed over him, a stark contrast to the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface.

He opened the car door with a flourish, a touch more dramatic than necessary. “Get in,” he mumbled, the gruffness in his voice a mask for the unexpected tenderness he felt. He gently guided you towards the passenger seat, his touch lingering just a moment too long before finally letting go.

Slipping into the car, you stole a glance at him. His jaw was clenched tight, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. A tense silence, descended, broken only by the rhythmic swish of the wipers and the steady hum of the engine.

Despite the anger radiating from him, you couldn’t but feel a flicker of a warmth blossom in your chest. The entire ordeal had been frustrating, a tempestuous dance that left you both breathless and bewildered. His irritation, however, was slowly morphing into something else, a concern he couldn’t quite disguise.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating. Finally, you felt compelled to break it. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the rain.

He didn’t respond, his gaze unwavering on the road ahead. You knew he heard you, the slight twitch of his jaw a silent acknowledgement. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a tangled web of emotions caught between the two of you.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence, his voice cold and curt. “Don’t thank me,” he muttered, his words clipped. “I just did it so you wouldn’t complain about getting sick later.”

He fell silent again, the car an isolated bubble in the storm outside. But beneath the gruff exterior, a flicker of something more complex flickered in his eyes, a secret he wouldn’t share, not yet.

“Great,” I muttered, the sarcasm dripping from my voice like the rain from the car roof. He glanced at me again in the mirror, his jaw still clenched tight. His grip on the steering wheel was a white-knuckled testament to his simmering frustration.

“You don’t even feel the least bit guilty about how stubborn you were?” He scoffed.

“And you?” I shot back, anger flashing in my eyes. He met my gaze for a fleeting moment, a flicker of confusion clouding his features.

“Me? What about my stubbornness?” He genuinely didn’t seem to understand. How could his actions be construed as anything but helpful? The unfairness of it all gnawed at him, fueling his irritation. He wanted to yell, to unleash the torrent of emotions swirling within him, but the words wouldn’t come.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please,” I drawled, the dismissiveness in my tone adding fuel to the fire.

“Don’t ’oh please’ me,” he growled, he stole another glance at me, his expression morphing into a scornful glare.

Silence descended one more, thick and suffocating. He focused on the rain-slicked road ahead.

“Then you shouldn’t have helped me,” I said, my voice laced with a bitterness that mirrored his own.

The anger he’d been struggling to contain flared up, a hot member rekindled. He let out a frustrated sigh.

“I shouldn’t have,” he conceded, the words laced it’s regret. “Now I just regret it because i was stupid enough to think you were sensible enough to realize that someone was trying just to help you…”

He refuses to look at me, the silence reminder of the tangled mess this whole ordeal had become.

“God, you’re so arrogant…” he muttered under his breath, his irritation spiking with every scoff and cold glance you threw his way. “You can’t even admit you were wrong and just stubborn as hell,” he pressed.

“Whatever,” you snapped, the frustration hanging heavily in the air. “Just get me home and that’s it.”

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice tight with barely contained anger. The car fell silent one more, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“And, for the record…” he started after a long pause, his voice low and dangerous. He hesitated, weighting his words carefully. “I hope you catch a cold from the rain.” A childish taunt, but one laced with a deeper meaning.

“Touché..-idiot,” you countered, a sly smile playing on your lips despite your irritation. His words, though mean-spirited, held an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore.

“Shut up…” he mumbled, his annoyance flaring at your defiance. But beneath the anger, a flicker of relief sparked. He hated the way you got under his skin, the constant back and forth that drove him crazy, yet somehow, it was better than the suffocating silence.

He pulled the car to stop in front of your apartment building, the arrival a bittersweet relief. “Fine.” You spat, flinging open the car door and stepping out onto the rain-slicked sidewalk.

He watch you slam the door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet street. Part of him was glad to see you go, the tension within the car finally released. But another, deeper part, a part he refused to acknowledge, felt a pang of something akin to loneliness at your departure. He wanted to call you back, to follow you inside.

The urge to chase after you was a physical ache in his chest but his stubborn pride, a double-edged sword, wouldn’t allow him to admit defeat. He watched you walk away, your figure growing smaller in the distance, his frown deepening with each step, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. You cast one final glance over your shoulder, your eyes filled with a mixture of anger and something he couldn’t decipher, and you left him alone, alone with the storm outside.

Author’s note: Tysm to everyone who liked the first part of the story. What do you guys think about these two childish idiots? More parts to come ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Tag list: @persiar9 @mia-rrrs @ssararuffoni @kapsylia

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris mclaren #lando x reader #lando #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris angst #mclaren #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 fc #fanfic

[sugoi-writes]

Can I be 🦇 anon? For some reason I’ve always been obsessed with the flexing part of an arm? I don’t know the technical term but I can’t see Demon Al doing this as much as his human counterpart would sooooooooo human Alastor with his sweetheart who has never EVER soon for him like woman usually do I mean he has ladies fainting LMAOA HOWEVER one day when he’s cutting idk wood or something she sees his arm flex she’s like a puddle I mean full fangirling giggling and screaming and he’s like huh??? Until he realizes and then boom from then on he’s flexing any time he can to pull a scream from her

🦇Anon? Love it! I'm a big fan of bats! This ask was too adorable. I just KNEW I could cook something up!

It does get a liiiiittle suggestive in parts, but otherwise stays perfectly appropriate! FEAST, my dearies!!!

"Love? The fire is going out! We'll need more firewood!" You call from inside. You make your way to the door, your top half hovering just outside as you searched for your darling beau. You've always enjoyed your time with him at his family's cabin, a piece of his inheritance that was used quite often. And, of course, it was highly appreciated by the both of you.

Your eyes dart about until you heard a distinct CHOP, eyes finding Alastor with his axe buried into an old tree stump. His smile widens when he sees you, wiping the sweat from his brow. You feel your pulse race, surprised to see his bare chest gleaming in the sunlight. The humid, thick air that permeated in the South could not be helped, and so, Alastor worked without a shirt on. Even with this simple and understandable notion, you found yourself fond of (and shocked by) the rare sight. You try to make your face pleasantly neutral and wave, trying to save face.

"No worries, dear. 'Already mending that problem!"

You chuckle, leaning fully into the door frame as Alastor positions a new log to cleave through. The Summer was good for one thing, you reasoned; seeing Alastor's chest, bared for only you to see, heaving steadily as he worked. Better yet, you could practically feel the gaze he gave back to you, his knowing smile making you beam every time you saw it. While you weren't like most others, not being overly doting or frivolous about his appearance, you still appreciated and treasured it deeply.

When Alastor returned to his work, your eyes fixated on his hands, then his arms. Indeed, you were very familiar with how powerful they were. They did wonders for and to you. But then: you see a flex. A jut and shift of his bicep has your mouth watering lecherously. As his grip relaxed on the axe, his body bending down to grab another log, you watched the muscles in his arm relax and re-fire. This set of motions repeated for a time, much to your enjoyment. As an extra treat, sometimes a vein in his neck would pop out at the same time his forearms and triceps strained, making your pupils bloom and shrink with hunger.

It was, without a doubt, an extremely alluring sight. Each time the axe raised over his head, your eyes followed, forcing you to stiffle a nervous chuckle. God, he was too beautiful for his own good. He was too strong for you to handle, and far too beautiful to be a called simple, minimalist man. His body was the work of a master craftsman, thank God.

As another piece of firewood was cut, you covered you mouth, stifling a squeal as he brought a towel to his forehead, huffing from his efforts. When he heard your little noises, he turned to you, his smile drooping slightly," Anything the matter, dear?" You were quick to shrink back, waving his concern off with a nervous laugh.

"Ha-ha, NO! No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me! I-I'll start working on dinner, okay?" Alastor doesn't seem convinced, squinting in your direction. His glasses were cast aside earlier, in fear they may fall off and become a victim of his labor," If you say so, dear. I'll be inside in a moment to help with the potatoes, mon cherie." You nod and turn to go inside, your face still boiling hot as you try to distract yourself. Your body starts to go through the motions, chopping veggies that were freshly harvested to use in your stew. You try to focus on the task at hand, your mind lingering on images of Alastor's physique. You had failed at your task stupendously. You felt no remorse!

You couldn't help but squirm at the mental images: veins and muscles shifting from physical effort. That devilishly handsome smile and toned body... it made your heart race! You wondered what his arms must've looked like when he was hovering above you... Your grip was tightening as you chopped the veggies faster, your safety disregarded. You giggle to yourself, eyes closing momentarily to focus on the pleasant thought of Alastor caging you with his muscular arms until--

"FUCK-- shit!"

No sooner did you wail was Alastor at the door, slamming it open," What happened??? What did--"

Alastor's eyes were wide, pupils shrunken to mere pinpricks as he took in your form. You held your bleeding finger, huffing.

"I-It's fine, it's fine! I'm fine!" You reassure, grabbing a handtowel to press to your wound. Alastor strode over to you, tongue clicking at your carelessness. As he went to put his axe down, your eyes caught his arms again, yelping as you turn away hastily. Your sudden movement left your partner clueless.

Alastor pauses again, a brow raising," My love, what's gotten into you? You've never been this careless before..."

You shuddered as Alastor came behind you, hands resting on the counter on either side of your hips," Are you sure you're quite alright?"

He leaned in to kiss your cheek, coaxing you into looking his way. You began yelping again, your mouth slamming shut as you tear your eyes away from his body. Alastor grumbles, slightly annoyed with your silence," Sweetheart, I can't help you if you don't use your words--"

One hand snatches you by the hip, spinning you quickly around while the other takes your wounded hand.

You eyes are blown wide, unable to make eye contact as they stare down at Alastor's arms," I-Im fine, really just-- just got lost in my thoughts! I promise!"

Between Al's proximity, his partial nudity, and those arms trapping you, you felt like your face blazed hotter than the fucking Sun. Alastor seemed to catch on, watching as your legs squeezed, shifting your weight uncomfortably. He leans closer to you, the muscles in his torso expanding and contracting with his movements. You sigh shakily, stifling a blissful squeak. Ahh. So it was him that was causing you to fret...

Alastor began to chuckle slowly at first, before laughing heartily. You stammered as a large hand came to your shoulder to steady himself, your lips blubbering pathetically. He was laughing fairly hard, causing his abdominals to flex and seize (a sight too delicious to behold). You were whining, on the verge of squealing as you weakly pushed against him again.

"A-Alastor, if you don't back up, I just might NOT be okay!!!" Alastor couldn't help himself, working himself into short bursts of stitches as he calms down, eyes watering.

"Ohhh, dearest... honestly, was I really that distracting to you?" His voice was low and flirtatious as you felt yourself being pressed into the counter, his hips holding you in place. You nearly shrieked as Alastor's hands gripped the counter harshly, knuckles white. Your mouth fell agape with a silent moan as the muscles in his upper arms and pecs stirred once more. You push against him once more, feeling as though you would pop like a balloon.

"A-Al, this isn't cute!!! Stop it, please!" You practically whine as Alastor just leaned, kissing your bright, heated cheeks.

"Well, I suppose I could go chop more wood, if the space could offer you some reprieve..."

You gasp as your chin is pulled forward, forcing you to make eye contact with him. If you weren't in your prime, you'd fear having a stroke at the sight of his almond colored eyes staring back into yours with a tumultuous energy.

"But, I think we both know you'd prefer that I stay rii~iiight here, don't you?" He teased, his lips dangerously close to your own. Your own lips quivered at the relentless pestering, your eyes struggling to make contact again," W-Well, I-- you know I-- uugghhh, if you keep teasing me, dinner is going to be late!!!"

"That's fiiiine by me!" Alastor says in a sing-song tone, and to your horror, you are lifted and placed onto the counter with minimal effort. Your eyes become transfixed on him, unable to clench your legs closed. Alastor knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Your partner moved to be between your thighs, his voice a husky gravel; his tone was JUST loud enough for you to process.

"How about we start with dessert first, hmm~?"

#alastor x reader #human!alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfic #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #heeeheeehee sorry if its a little TOO suggestibe #we all thirst over this man violently sooooo i figured it would be okay #let me know if youd rather a fluffier one and i can make that happen! #this was so fun to do #gdhdhsjshsja

[deliciousangelfestival]

Flour Power - 2

Character: Amnesia!Bucky x Baker!Female Character

Summary: A baker helps a stranger, only to discover that this individual not only aids the bakery but also brings trouble along with him

A/N: Because Bucky got amnesia, his name was temporarily changed to Bob.

Chap 1, Chap 2 , End

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

With each passing day, Bob's strength began to return. He wasted no time putting his newfound energy to good use, eagerly diving into his tasks at the bakery. Rising early, he matched your dedication, lending a hand wherever needed.

In the kitchen, Bob proved himself a quick learner, diligently tackling each task. Whether he was cleaning, lifting heavy bags of flour, or manually whisking dough, his commitment never wavered.

His presence brought a renewed sense of energy to the bakery. Bob's help made the workload lighter, and the atmosphere buzzed with productivity.

As you watched him work, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his assistance, realizing that having Bob around was a valuable asset to the bakery.

As the day progressed, the usual hustle and bustle of the bakery continued. Bob, wiping the counter with a thoughtful expression, broke the silence with a question, "Why is it so quiet here?"

With a hint of bitterness in her tone, Tammy pointed her fingers towards the bustling bakery across the street. "That's because our loyal customers got stolen by them," she lamented, her frustration evident.

Bob's gaze followed Tammy's gesture, his expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief as he saw the crowded shopfront.

"The ungrateful not only stole the family recipe but also put this bakery into debt," Tammy continued, her voice tinged with resentment.

Bob's sense of justice was stirred. "Not fair. This bread is more delicious," he remarked, his loyalty to the bakery evident in his words.

You couldn't help but feel gratitude towards Bob for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Bob," you interjected, a sense of appreciation coloring your voice.

"You want to learn how to make croissants?" you asked, noticing that each time you prepared the flaky pastries, Bob's gaze would inevitably drift towards you, silently observing your technique.

As you spoke, you could see a flicker of curiosity in Bob's eyes, his interest piqued by the prospect of learning something new. His shoulders straightened slightly, and he nodded in response, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Bob's face lit up with childlike excitement as you extended the offer, his eyes shining eagerly. "Can I?" he asked, his enthusiasm palpable.

You nodded with a smile, touched by his genuine interest. Your family had always believed in sharing their knowledge with others, and Bob was no exception. Teaching him how to make croissants would strengthen his bond with the bakery and equip him with valuable skills for the future.

"Of course," you replied warmly. "My family has always believed in passing on our baking expertise to anyone who's eager to learn. You're no exception, Bob."

You gestured towards the work surface, inviting him to join you. "Come on, I'll show you," you said warmly, your voice filled with encouragement.

As Bob diligently worked on crafting the croissants, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, eager to see the results of his efforts. But as the baking process unfolded, it became apparent that things weren't going as expected.

🥐

"This isn't what I expected," you remarked, disappointment coloring your tone as you examined the misshapen and oversized croissants that emerged from the oven.

Bob's attempts at normal-sized croissants had ended in failure, but to your surprise, he had inadvertently succeeded in creating jumbo-sized croissants. The sheer scale of the pastries was impressive, a testament to Bob's determination and creativity in the face of adversity.

Tammy's arrival only added to the excitement, her eyes widening in amazement as she beheld the oversized croissants. "Whoa... This is incredible," she exclaimed, reaching for her phone to capture the moment and then upload the photo to her Instagram.

"How did you upload it so fast?" you asked, surprised by Tammy's quick actions.

Tammy shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "You know me," she replied coyly, her fingers flying across her phone as she shared the extraordinary sight with her followers on social media.

The 'Ping' of notifications continued incessantly, and you couldn't help but grow curious. "What's that?" you asked, glancing at Tammy as she retrieved her phone.

Tammy's eyes widened in astonishment as she scrolled through her notifications, her expression a mix of disbelief and excitement. "I've never received this many notifications this quickly," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe.

One comment: "Omg, is that real?"

Another comment: "Can I try? I think it's perfect for brunch with my girls."

"Oh, I know this bakery. It's called Sunrise Bakery. I used to go there with my mom. I should go there."

Another comment: "Eating and coffee time with friends? Sign me in."

You and Tammy exchanged a glance, realization dawning upon you. Could Bob's oversized croissants be attracting attention on social media?

With a shared nod, you turned your gaze towards Bob and the jumbo croissant behind him. "Alright," you said with a newfound sense of determination. "I think we could do this."

🥐

The jumbo croissant and coffee craze continued to sweep through the neighborhood, and your bakery became a bustling hub of activity, filled to the brim with eager customers clamoring to get a taste of the viral sensation.

Jumbo coffee, expertly crafted by Tammy, only added to the allure, drawing in even more patrons eager to savor the perfect pairing of freshly baked bread and aromatic brews.

But amidst the excitement and flurry of activity, a new phenomenon emerged – the presence of Bob, the enigmatic baker behind the scenes. His silent demeanor and skillful craftsmanship had captured the imaginations of many, particularly the female customers who flocked to the bakery in droves, hoping for a glimpse of the mysterious baker.

Because of your best efforts to maintain privacy and respect Bob's wishes, the allure of the elusive baker only seemed to intensify. You banned taking photos of the employees, hoping to preserve their privacy and dignity.

But rather than deter them, the ban seemed to fuel the customers' curiosity, sparking a fervor that only drew more attention to the bakery.

You felt a surge of gratitude as you served the bustling crowd, the familiar hum of activity reminiscent of the days when your grandparents had run the bakery.

As you delivered a loaf of bread to an elderly couple, you noticed they were foreigners, likely Japanese.

The elderly man nodded at you and spoke in Japanese, his request catching you off guard. "Sumimasen, koko de keitai o juuden shite mo ii desu ka? Watashi no keitai no battery ga shinde shimatte, hon'yaku appu o tsukau koto ga dekimasen." ("Excuse me, can I charge my phone here? My phone battery died, and I couldn't use the translation app.")

Feeling momentarily lost, you quickly excused yourself and approached Tammy. "Can I use your phone?" you asked urgently.

Tammy shook her head. "My phone is live right now, showing it to my followers," she explained.

Realizing your phone was also out of reach, you returned to the elderly man at the table, feeling helpless.

"Sumimasen," he said, following you to the cashier.

Confused, Bob suddenly appeared and approached the grandpa, asking in Japanese, "Doushite? Nani ga okotte iru no?" (What's going on?")

You explained the situation, amazed to hear Bob conversing fluently in Japanese. "Dekinai desu ka?" ("Is it not possible?") the elderly man asked, his expression crestfallen.

Suddenly, Bob's revelation left you and Tammy stunned. "Nanika o tasukeru koto ga dekimasu ka?" Bob asked in Japanese. ("Is there something we could help with?")

The elderly man's face brightened as he explained his predicament. "Watashi no keitai no battery ga shinde shimatte, koko de juuden dekimasu ka? Watashi no teburu no chikaku ni denki no soketsuto ga mienai node, keitai ga nai to hon'yaku appu o tsukau koto ga dekimasen." ("My phone battery is dead. Can I charge my phone here? I don't see any power sockets near my table. Without my phone, we couldn't use the translation app.")

Bob extended his hand. "Wakarimashita. Anata no keitai o kudasai. Koko de juuden shite kudasai," he offered in Japanese. ("I understand. Could you give me your phone? You can charge it here.")

Grateful, the elderly man bowed his head. "Arigatou gozaimasu," he said sincerely. ("Thank you very much.")

The Japanese grandpa told Bob "Arigatou. Mae no pan'ya wa koko mitaina basho ni wa tetsudatte kurenakatta yo." ("Thank you. The bake shop in front were not helpful like this place.")

Bob replied "Maa, bokutachi wa kanojo-ra yori umaku iu." ("Well, we're better than them.")

The grandpa laughed and went back to his table.

You and Tammy approached Bob with a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident on your faces. "Wait? You could speak Japanese?" you asked, incredulous.

Bob seemed equally surprised by the revelation, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I did?" he echoed with a hint of disbelief.

"How come you didn't realize? It was you who was speaking?" you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion as you tried to make sense of the situation.

"Wow, Bob. You're amazing," you exclaimed, unable to hide your admiration.

Hearing your compliment made Bob's ears turn slightly red, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without a word, he turned on his heel and dashed back to the kitchen, leaving you and Tammy to exchange bemused glances.

"What was that?" you asked, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Hmm..." Tammy mused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she watched Bob disappear into the depths of the bakery.

🥐

Luck seemed to be on your side with the Japanese grandpa's glowing 5-star review, praising the bakery's hospitality towards foreigners and the elderly.

This drew in a wave of foreign customers eager to experience the warm welcome for themselves.

Equipped with a translator app, you managed to communicate with foreign customers, though sometimes the language barrier proved challenging, especially with fast speech or colloquial expressions. In those moments, Bob became your secret weapon.

To everyone's surprise, Bob displayed an unexpected talent for understanding and speaking various foreign languages like Mandarin, French, Spanish, and Turkish. His proficiency was impressive, though he couldn't explain how he acquired it.

Speculating that his past self might have been bilingual, Bob's newfound linguistic skills proved invaluable in connecting with foreign customers, enhancing the bakery's reputation for hospitality and service.

As business flourished, you couldn't help but marvel at the mystery of Bob's talents and how they'd unexpectedly contributed to the bakery's success.

With the influx of customers to your bakery, the business's overall income increased significantly. This allowed you to pay off your debts on time and provided the means to give bonuses to both Tammy and Bob for their hard work and dedication.

However, when Bob received his bonus, he seemed unsure what to do with the money. "I don't deserve this."

He hesitantly handed it back to you, expressing his belief that he didn't deserve to be paid since you had provided everything for him.

You stopped him in his tracks, shaking your head. "You deserve it, Bob. The success of the bakery is in large part because of you. Your hard work and dedication have made all the difference."

Despite Bob's initial reluctance, you insisted on him keeping the bonus as a token of appreciation for his invaluable contribution to the bakery's success.

Grateful and touched by your words, Bob accepted the bonus with a humble smile, understanding that his efforts had truly made a difference.

As you stepped outside to take out the trash, you were unexpectedly blocked by someone. You let out a sigh of annoyance when you realized it was Rick, the former employee who had stolen your family recipe.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your tone laced with frustration.

Rick wore a smug expression on his face as he replied, "Oh, nothing. Just checking on you, who stole my customers."

You rolled your eyes at his audacity. "Funny you should say 'stole,' considering it was you who stole in the first place."

Rick laughed dismissively. "I was just putting it to good use. I knew I could do it better."

You scoffed at his arrogance. "Even though you stole it, it still tastes flavorless."

Rick snorted in disdain before turning on his heel and walking away.

As Rick left, you couldn't help but feel a surge of indignation at his brazen attitude. Despite his attempts to undermine you, you remained steadfast in your commitment to your bakery and its loyal customers.

Tammy's eyes narrowed with disdain as she watched Rick's retreating figure. "Was it him? Next time, call me. I'll hit him with my Louis Vuitton heels."

You winced at the mental image. "Ouch."

Bob, sensing the tension, interjected with concern. "Is he bothering you?"

You shrugged, trying to downplay the encounter. "Just my mortal enemy. Forget it. He always stops by to throw an insult."

Despite your attempt to brush it off, Bob could see the frustration etched on your face. With a sympathetic nod, he silently vowed to watch for Rick in the future.

🥐

As you lay sleeping, a loud crash shattered the stillness of the night, jolting you awake. Instantly alert, you noticed Bob also opening his door simultaneously, both of you exchanging a concerned glance.

"A burglar? Or a cat?" you mused aloud, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"I don't think a cat could destroy a window," Bob replied, his tone serious.

Your eyes widened in alarm, and without hesitation, you reached for your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed 911.

Intent on investigating, you moved to go downstairs, but Bob's firm grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks. "Stay here," he commanded softly but firmly.

"But—" you protested, the urgency of the situation driving you to action.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Bob insisted, his voice laced with concern for your safety.

Reluctantly, you acquiesced, remaining on the second floor as Bob descended to confront the intruders. For a tense moment, the house was eerily quiet, broken only by the muffled sounds of a struggle downstairs.

Unable to resist the urge to see what was happening, you cautiously approached the railing, peering down to the first floor. Your heart skipped a beat as you witnessed Bob engaging in a fierce battle with the masked intruders, his movements swift and calculated as he fought them off one by one.

Despite being outnumbered, Bob displayed remarkable skill and determination, his body language exuding confidence and strength as he defended your home against the would-be burglars.

With each precise strike and well-timed block, he gradually gained the upper hand, ultimately emerging victorious in the intense confrontation.

As the last intruder fled into the night, Bob stood tall and triumphant, his chest heaving with exertion but his gaze steady and unwavering. With a sense of awe and gratitude, you realized how fortunate you were to have someone like Bob by your side in peril.

"I'm here. Oh my god. Who would want to steal from this bakery?" Tammy exclaimed, rushing over from her apartment in a daze. She had been deep in slumber when you called her.

Surveying the damage, her eyes widened in shock. The bakery window lay shattered, tables and chairs lay broken, and the bread display case lay toppled on the ground. It was a heartbreaking sight, a stark contrast to the care and effort you had invested in preserving the legacy of the bakery.

As Tammy took in the devastation, a mixture of anger and disbelief crossed her face. "This is terrible. How could someone do this?" she muttered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Just then, the police arrived on the scene, their presence adding a sense of urgency to the situation. As they began their investigation, one of the officers turned to you with a questioning gaze.

"So, it was your employee who beat up all four of these burglars?" he inquired, his tone incredulous.

You nodded firmly at the officer's question. "Yes, officer. He saved me and this place."

The mention of saving the bakery seemed to catch the officer's attention, and he glanced around at the damage with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. "Do you have insurance?" he inquired, his voice softening slightly.

You nodded again, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yes," you confirmed, grateful for the reassurance that you would not face the financial burden of repairing the damage alone.

"Good, I will give you a letter from us as soon as possible, then you can send it to the insurance," said the police, offering you a reassuring nod.

"Thank you," you replied gratefully as the officers began to depart, their presence comforting in the wake of the chaos.

You approached Bob, who stood with his head bowed low, his expression weighed down by guilt and regret.

"I ruined the bakery," Bob muttered, his voice heavy with self-blame.

As you drew nearer, you could see the turmoil etched on his face, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Approaching Bob, who stood with a troubled expression, you offered a gentle smile. "You didn't ruin the bakery, Bob. You saved it. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stopped them. Thank you," you said sincerely, your gratitude evident in your voice.

Glancing at the tools the burglars had brought – gasoline and a lighter – you couldn't help but shudder at the thought of the destruction they had intended to unleash upon your cherished bakery.

Tammy's voice broke the silence, her tone filled with awe and admiration. "Did Bob really fight all of them?" she asked incredulously.

You nodded emphatically. "Yes. He's amazing," you affirmed, your pride in Bob's actions evident.

Bob blushed at the praise, his humility shining through even in the midst of the chaos.

Tammy smirked mischievously. "He can bake, speak foreign languages, and fight. I think his old self was a Jack of All Trades," she remarked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You considered her words thoughtfully. "That means your brain and muscles still remember. Do you start remembering something?" you asked, hoping for a breakthrough.

Bob was quiet for a moment. He shook his head sadly. "No," he replied, his expression filled with frustration at his continued lack of memory.

Tammy's eyes lit up with excitement as she proposed a new idea. "How about we enroll him in acting classes, poetry classes, singing lessons? Perhaps he's good at those too, and it could trigger his old memories," she suggested eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious.

As you considered Tammy's suggestion, a sense of hope stirred within you. Perhaps there was still a chance to unlock the secrets of Bob's past and help him reclaim his lost memories. With determination, you resolved to explore every avenue in the quest to uncover the truth.

🥐

As the bakery underwent renovations, you decided to accompany Bob to try new activities in the hopes of triggering his old memories. Despite your efforts, there was still no progress in unlocking his past, but you couldn't deny that his instincts and strength seemed to be growing stronger by the day.

"Perhaps you were an MMA fighter? Or a boxing player?" you suggested one day, pondering the possibilities.

"Really?" Bob asked, his interest piqued by the idea.

Determined to explore this further, you took Bob to a boxing trial class. As you watched him don boxing shorts, you couldn't help but gulp nervously, realizing you had never seen him shirtless. His well-defined six-pack muscles and faded scars on his back hinted at a past filled with physical prowess and strength.

The trainer eyed Bob skeptically from the ring and asked, "Are you sure he's a newbie?"

You nodded, though the trainer seemed unconvinced. From a glance, he could read the muscles rippling beneath Bob's skin, indicating a level of proficiency that belied the term "newbie."

"Let's start," the trainer announced, motioning for Bob to step into the ring.

In the blink of an eye, the trainer let out a pained cry as Bob delivered a powerful punch, catching him off guard.

"Ouch!" the trainer exclaimed, clutching his stomach in agony. "Get out of here. I'm banning you both from this place," he declared, his voice strained with discomfort as he struggled to recover from the unexpected blow.

As you walked home together, laughter bubbled between you and Bob, the sound echoing through the quiet streets. Despite the challenges you faced with the bakery being closed for renovations, you couldn't help but feel a sense of lightness and joy in Bob's company.

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you would be able to laugh during such a difficult time. Yet, with Bob by your side, everything seemed to fall into place, and the day's worries melted away in the warmth of his laughter.

🥐

After two weeks of renovations, the day finally arrived for the reopening of the bakery. As you unlocked the doors and stepped inside, a wave of apprehension washed over you. Would anyone still remember your bakery? Would the customers return after the temporary closure?

To your surprise and delight, as the day progressed, a steady stream of people began to trickle in through the doors. The familiar aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, and the sound of chatter and laughter once again filled the cozy space.

You couldn't believe your eyes as you watched the tables fill up with eager customers, each one eagerly sampling the delicious treats on offer. It was as if the temporary closure had only heightened the anticipation, drawing even more people to your bakery than before.

As you busied yourself behind the counter, serving up delectable treats to the eager crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction in the resilience of your beloved bakery.

Many familiar faces returned, offering their condolences for the recent ordeal the store had faced. Their gestures of support were deeply appreciated as a reminder of the strong community surrounding the bakery.

Amidst the familiar flow of customers, however, a sense of unease settled over the bakery as a tall man with blonde hair rushed in, commanding attention from all who watched.

His hurried movements and searching gaze drew curious glances from the patrons, their eyes following him as he made his way through the crowd.

His attractiveness is on the same level as Bob's. That made female eyes at the bakery follow him.

Suddenly, the man stopped beside Bob, arranging a new batch of bread on the counter. With a relieved sigh, he enveloped Bob in a tight embrace, causing gasps of surprise to echo through the bakery.

"Huh?!" you exclaimed, along with Tammy and Bob, as the unexpected display of affection unfolded before you.

The blonde man spoke, his voice filled with emotion. "Bucky, I finally found you," he declared, his words hanging in the air.

The implications of his statement dawned on you, and a sense of confusion and apprehension washed over you. It was clear that this man knew Bob, but the nature of their relationship remained unclear.

Bob, visibly uncomfortable, pushed the man away and stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know him," he stated firmly, his expression betraying a mix of confusion and disgust.

You couldn't help but wonder about the connection between Bob and the blonde man. Was he a friend? A relative? Or perhaps something more?

Sensing your silent question, Bob moved closer to you, his gaze meeting yours with a silent plea for understanding. "Don't look at me like that," he murmured, his tone filled with unease.

Before you could respond, the blonde man approached, his eyes fixed on Bob as he repeated the name again. "Bucky."

Bob's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his tone devoid of emotion as he addressed the customer directly. "Who the heck is Bucky?" he demanded, his words sharp and pointed.

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[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16

In Gaius Tower.

Merlin: (enters)

Gaius: Oh, Merlin, glad you're here.

Merlin: Sorry I was moving all my things to my new chambers. Do you need me to help you with something?

Gaius: (sighs, turning very serious) Merlin, my boy, we must talk.

Merlin: But I didn't do anything this time 🥺.

Gaius: No, it's not about you. Well, yes. But it's not because of something you've done... I think.

Merlin: (very confused) I don't think I follow...

Gaius: You are aware that the prince is... very fond of you, right?

Merlin: Oh yeah, sure.

Gaius: I mean he likes you, Merlin.

Merlin: I know, I like him too.

Gaius: (surprised) Really?! 😲

Merlin: Of course, we are friends. How can we not like each other?

Gaius: No, I don't mean in that way, Merlin.

Merlin: Well, I guess he likes me as his servant too.

Gaius: (explodes) Oh, for Gods' sake! I'm talking about romantic love! Of sexual attraction! That's what I'm talking about!

Merlin: …

Merlin: (burst out laughing) Ha! 🤣 Good one, Gaius.

Gaius: I'm not joking.

Merlin: (sarcastic) Yeah, sure.

Gaius: Merlin, Arthur has been obsessed with you ever since you got here.

Merlin: What on earth gave you that idea?

Gaius: He almost lost his mind when you were stabbed!

Merlin: So? He cares about his subjects. That's not strange.

Gaius: He had a man imprisoned for you.

Merlin: Lancelot, yes, and only because he wanted to teach me a lesson for risking my life 'unnecessarily' again. Very childish of him if you ask me.

Gaius: And when you invited a man to sleep in your room-

Merlin: Why does everyone say that like it's a bad thing?

Gaius: -He had you immediately move into the chambers next to his.

Merlin: He still doesn't trust Lancelot and he wanted me to be more comfortable, that's all.

Gaius: He gave you a flower! Tell me, how can that NOT be romantic?

Merlin: Oh, I suppose that could be misinterpreted. Even Lancelot interpreted it that way.

Gaius: Because it can only be interpreted one way!

Merlin: But I swear it has an explanation.

Gaius: I'm dying to hear it.

Merlin: You see, do you remember when Arthur came here to leave me a message for you when the plague happened?

Gaius: The message he never left you in the end because you were too busy talking about your favorite flower? Yes, I remember.

Merlin: I told him that my favorite flowers were forget-me-nots because it's not easy to find purple flowers and purple is my favorite color.

Gaius: A color that curiously only royalty can afford because it's very expensive to make, yes.

Merlin: Exactly! That's why I like forget-me-nots. They are easy to find in nature and they are free. And I told Arthur that: "There aren't many flowers that are purple."

Gaius: And in response he got you a purple lily.

Merlin: Yeah, you see?

Gaius: ...

Gaius: Are you supposed to be refuting me? Because it seems like you're agreeing with me.

Merlin: Gaius, don't you see? The idiot gave me the purple lily just to prove a point.

Gaius: Which is...?

Merlin: That there are other purple flowers besides forget-me-nots. He even wrote me a note telling me just that. That I simply didn't know how to search well.

Gaius: Merlin, do you know what the purple lily means in the language of flowers?

Merlin: "Passionate love." Why?

Gaius: 😒

Merlin: It's a coincidence, nothing more.

Gaius: Okay, let's talk about facts instead. Naturally purple lilies are very rare and difficult to find, to the point that even if someone from royalty wants some, it is more cost-effective for them to paint the lilies purple and, as you well know, purple dye is very expensive.

Merlin: (surprised) Really? I didn't know you could paint flowers. So my lily is painted?

Gaius: No, that's the thing. The prince, who we know has no shortage of money, despite being easily able to have a lily painted purple, decided to find you a naturally purple one and give it to you as a gift.

Merlin: (very impressed) Wow…

Gaius: Do you see it now?

Merlin: Yes… It's incredible that he would go so far just to prove a point.

Gaius: (drops his things) I give up. (leaves)

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Arthur: (In his desk, writing in a parchment sheet, thinking) If Lancelot is here, the griffin will attack soon. (writes that down) What's next? The sidhes, I think. Then the black knight and the questing beast-No, the unicorn was before the questing beast. (Adds note next to 'Unicorn') Important: Don't kill the unicorn.... When was the battle of Ealdor? Was it before or after the unicorn? (thinks hard but can't remember) Well it happened around then. Hmmm... (adds note next to 'Black knight') Don't drink Gaius' drug.

Gaius: (knocks the door from outside)

Arthur: (hides the parchment) Come in.

Gaius: (enters and bows) Your highness.

Arthur: Oh, Gaius. What brings you here?

Gaius: I would like to talk to you... about Merlin.

Arthur: (stands up abruptly, worried) What happened? Is he hurt?

Gaius: No! It's nothing like that, sire.

Arthur: (sighs relieved) So? What is it?

Gaius: First, I want your highness to know that I really appreciate that you care for my ward so dearly. You didn't only give him the position of your personal manservant, you protected him and offer him your friendship even when there was no need and I will always be grateful for that.

Arthur: You don't have to thank me for that, Gaius. As you said, Merlin is very dear to me. I won't let anything happen to him. (thinking) What did that dollophead do this time?

Gaius: (uncomfortable) Right... however, despite my eternal gratitude, I must ask you... more discretion from your part, sire.

Arthur: (surprised and confused) Me?

Gaius: Some actions you have made regarding Merlin have caused... some worrying rumors to be made, sire.

Arthur: Like what?

Gaius: There are a lot, sire. But the most common one, I think, is that you took Merlin as your lover because Merlin is , pardon my words, a seductive greedy whore, sire.

Arthur: (scandalised, shouts) WHAT?!

Gaius: I know, very bold of them to accuse the prince of Camelot of sleeping with-

Arthur: They are calling Merlin a whore?!😡

Gaius: Uhm, yes, a greedy whore, but what I'm trying to get at is-

Arthur: This can't be. I'm going to fix it. Thank you, Gaius. (leaves)

Gaius: Wait! What are you going to do? 😨(goes after him, frantic) Sire? Sire!

Time skip. Arthur reunited with all the servants at his service (which means some servants like Gwen are not there) in the hallway.

Arthur: (with a branding iron in hand, threatening) This is used to mark the cattle but also to mark the gossipers. I do not tolerate gossipers, especially the slandares.

Servants: (scared as fuck, trembling in place)😨😱

Arthur: Rumors are forbidden in this castle. Even more if they involve royalty and those closest to them. I won't ask who did it. I don't care. I'm just warning you that if I hear anything remotely similar again (points the branding iron to them) all of you will pay the consequences. So if you don't want to be marked as cattle (walks and points the servants one by one) you better start controlling yours and everyone's tongues. Do I make myself clear?

Servant 1: (pales when he's pointed at and faints)

Arthur: (looks down as he falls, expressionless) You are fired. Let him know that when he wakes.

Other servants: (terrafied, with a high pitched voice) Yes, sire!🥺

Arthur: (leaves)

Gaius: (in a corner, just as terrafied) What the fu-😨

Time skip. Arthur and Merlin in Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (putting Arthur his shirt on) Arthur, is there an important event today? Is someone important coming?

Arthur: No, why?

Merlin: Well, everyone seems in such a hurry lately. Every time I run into another servant they run away.

Arthur: Really?

Merlin: (nods, putting Arthur his jacket on) They always apologise though, before leaving. (thoughtful) It's weird. Maybe I did something to upset them?

Arthur: (dismissively) Sometimes there's just too much work in the castle. Don't overthink it.

Gaius: (enters suddenly, almost a wild expression in his face)

Merlin: (surprised) Gaius!

Arthur: (concerned) Gaius, is something wrong? You never enter without knocking.

Gaius: (turns to Merlin, very serious) Merlin, I need some errands urgently. (extends his hand with a peace of paper)

Merlin: Oh, in a minute. I need to-

Gaius: Now, Merlin. People's lifes are depending on it.

Arthur: Go, Merlin. I can handle the rest.

Merlin: (nods and takes the paper, very worried at the sudden emergency) I'll be back as soon as I can. (leaves quickly)

Gaius: (closes the door and turns to Arthur, sternly) This has to stop.

Arthur: (confused) What exactly?

Gaius: Your feelings for Merlin!

Arthur: Oh, that.

Gaius: Yes! I know you fancy him. Don't you dare deny it! 😡

Arthur: I'm not denying it.

Gaius: Please, Arthur! Everyone who has eyes can see-Wait you are not denying it? 😲

Arthur: I'm not.

Gaius: Oh... Okay

Arthur: And I don't just fancy him, I'm in love with him.

Gaius: (taken aback) I... didn't expect this much honesty... give me a minute.

Arthur: (nods in understanding and points to a chair) Do you want to take a seat?

Gaius: Yes, thank you. (takes a seat)

Arthur: I can bring you water if you like.

Gaius: No, it's fine. (sighs and looks at Arthur) How?

Arthur: (shrugs) How does everyone fall in love? It just happens.

Gaius: You've just known each other for less than a month.

Arthur: It's true, but I feel like I've known him for a lifetime. (thinking) 10 years to be exact. (says) I can assure you, Gaius, my intentions are nothing but honorable.

Gaius: I know you wouldn't force Merlin into anything he doesn't want to. That's not the problem.

Arthur: Then What is it?

Gaius: Sire-

Arthur: Arthur. Call me Arthur.

Gaius: The problem, Arthur, is that you are being too intense with your love. You even threatened those poor servants!

Arthur: They were insulting Merlin! 😠

Gaius: That's what I'm talking about! If you are not doing extensive searches just to bring him a flower, you are challenging anyone who has done the slightest offense to him. You were always very correct and careful with your image. Why can't you keep up appearances when it comes to Merlin too?

Arthur: Because I don't want to hide and repress what I feel! (thinks) Not anymore. (Says) And I'm not going to let anyone hurt him. (Thinks) Not again. I won't leave him alone again. I won't fail him again.

Gaius: I know you have the best intentions, but whether you like it or not, you are also harming Merlin with your actions. Your father doesn't have the best image of him at the moment.

Arthur: (worried) And Merlin? Does it bother him that-

Gaius: No, surprisingly, he isn't aware of your feelings yet. I even tried to tell him and he just thought I was joking. I don't know if he's very innocent or just too dense.

Arthur: (laughs, but then blushes a little and asks with a shy smile) But did he like the flower?

Gaius: Oh, for Gods' sake! Yes, he loved that flower and he loves everything you do for him. He may not be aware of your affections, but he's not exactly rejecting them. (Sighs) And that's what worries me the most.

Arthur: What?

Gaius: You are the prince and he is a servant and also a man.

Arthur: I don't care about that.

Gaius: But your father does and the entire court too. At some point you are going to have to marry a noble woman who can give you heirs. No matter how sincere your love for Merlin is, that is something you will not be able to change. You're going to break his heart even if you don't want to.

Arthur: I won't-

Gaius: Don't make me promises. You don't need my approval and whether I agree with this or not doesn't really matter. I'm only going to ask you two things. One, modesty. I think you can manage to woo and protect Merlin without being so brazen.

Arthur: Alright.

Gaius: Two, make things clear to Merlin before you start anything, because he won't believe you're in love with him until he hears it from your own mouth.

Arthur: I do plan to tell him when the time is right, Gaius. Don't worry.

Gaius: And Arthur... (stands up, suddenly threatening) Merlin is not just my ward, he's my boy. You may be The prince, but if you dare to hurt him-

Arthur: (firmly) I won't. I rather die before harming him in any way.

Gaius: (thinking) Yes, you say that now, but just because you don't know. (Sighs and says) Good. Now, if you excuse me, I must wait for Merlin in my chambers to prepare medicine for the imaginary patients I invented. (bows) Your Highness (leaves)

...

Scene where arthur is listing the 'events that are about to unfold' on a piece a patchment ☑︎

Credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur fanfiction #merthur fanfic #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

[tra-archive]

Twitter has exploded with this whole “would you rather be stuck in the woods with a man or a bear” debate, and it shows that once again males cannot grasp women’s reasoning for choosing the bear.

Almost every woman I’ve seen online and talked to in person has picked the bear. Of course, males are using this as an opportunity to call out women for being dumb and not knowing how dangerous bears are. And of course, they’re wrong. So let me clarify something.

We are aware that bears are dangerous. We know bears can attack. We know they’re wild animals. We know not to fuck with bears, especially a mother and her cubs. We’ve heard all the graphic details about what happens in a bear attack. Bears are dangerous.

However, a bear operates on instinct. Bears don’t want to attack you, they’d rather be left alone. Bears will attack you if you’re perceived as a threat to them, their food, their space, or their cubs. Their behavior is, for the most part, predictable, and we have lots of knowledge on how to stay safe while in an area with bears. I’ve been hiking in bear country before, I’ve even seen bears by my house, and I followed all the tips that I was supposed to do. We left each other alone and I have never been hurt or even noticed by a bear.

So why are women choosing bears over men?

A bear won’t attack and kill you if you say you don’t want to go on a date with it.

A bear won’t rape you.

A bear won’t lie and manipulate you to get what it wants. A bear doesn’t hide the fact that it’s a predator that can be violent.

A bear won’t call you a bitch, cunt, whore, slut, feminazi, or any other degrading term.

A bear won’t try to justify sexual assault based on what you’re wearing.

Did a group of bears team up and torture a schoolgirl for 40 days until she died a horrible death? No, that was men.

Did a bear shoot innocent college girls because he was a violent misogynist? No, that was also a man.

Didn’t bears create an entire violent ideology that states they’re entitled to sex and that women should be forced to sleep with them? Oh wait, that’s incels.

Do bears make up almost 99% of sexual assault perpetrators? Nope, men again.

We know that all bears are dangerous. But we have no way of knowing which men are. Sure, it’s “NoT aLl MeN,” but it’s a significant enough number of them that we are wary of all. And instead of considering why women are choosing a wild animal over them and thinking “yeah, their reasoning makes sense,” many men have doubled down and said that they hope we get mauled by bears, further proving our point.

I CHOOSE THE BEAR.

#the SECOND I see someone come here with whataboutism they’re getting blocked #man vs bear #I choose the bear #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist community #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do touch #radical feminst #tw rape #tw violence #radfem #radfems