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tarjapearce · 1 day

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Mi Dulce Cereza

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?

WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread

Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.

A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3

"Ma!"

The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.

Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.

"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.

"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)

"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)

Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.

The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.

Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.

Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.

Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.

"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.

A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.

And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.

"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.

His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.

"For you to leave my property."

"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"

A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.

"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."

"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.

"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."

"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)

William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.

He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.

The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.

And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.

"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."

Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.

"Ma?"

Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face

"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"

"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process

"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.

"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.

Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.

"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)

The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.

Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.

William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.

Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.

"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."

"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"

"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."

William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.

The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.

For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.

It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.

That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.

Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.

So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.

Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.

But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.

He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.

William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.

But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.

----

Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.

Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.

Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.

But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.

William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.

The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.

He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.

He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.

Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.

Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.

Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.

William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.

A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.

Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.

If people only knew the scum he is.

If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.

The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.

Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.

He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.

A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.

Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.

Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.

But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.

In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.

-----

He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.

Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.

Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.

Dana.

"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"

The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.

"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."

Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.

Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."

It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.

"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"

Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.

"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."

"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"

Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.

In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.

Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.

"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."

The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.

Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.

"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."

More than they already did? Impossible.

Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."

"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)

He mumbled while stepping into the shower.

"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.

He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.

----

Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.

The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.

A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.

He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.

Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.

The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.

His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.

He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.

A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.

The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.

"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."

Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.

"Thanks."

Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.

Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.

A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.

Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.

Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.

Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.

Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.

But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.

With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.

But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.

A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.

His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.

"Come in."

He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.

It was as if time had barely passed over him.

It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.

This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.

The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.

"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.

"Sir."

William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.

"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."

"Good things I hope."

"Now. The property you'll be in charge is in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"

"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"

"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."

"Fortnight is alright."

William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.

"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.

"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."

Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.

Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.

Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.

Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.

Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.

Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.

The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.

William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.

"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."

Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.

Miguel chuckled and nodded

"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"

"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."

"I see."

As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.

"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."

With a final and firm handshake, William left.

Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.

Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.

The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.

He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.

Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.

One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.

And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.

---

He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.

Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.

A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.

What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.

Had a worker slipped in?

Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.

"Ma'am?"

----

Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.

Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.

Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.

But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.

The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.

Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.

"Ma'am?"

The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.

"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.

His brow quirked as his face remained serene.

"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."

You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.

If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.

A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.

"I got installed today, it's ok."

He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.

He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.

You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.

You didn't look past twenties.

"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.

Such a polite girl.

"Yes?"

"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"

He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.

"Of course."

"Sorry for the floor."

Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.

"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"

Papa

Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.

He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.

He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.

And what a good job they've made.

"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."

Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.

"Thanks. Love you!"

You hung up the call and smiled his way.

"Thank you. Mr...?"

"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."

You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.

"Right. So you're the new trainer?"

His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.

Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.

"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."

"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."

"My pleasure to help, señorita."

His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.

"Come. Let's get you warmed up."

You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.

You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.

"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.

He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.

A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.

"Mi niña! Let's go!"

The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.

"Thanks for the help, Miguel."

"Anytime, señorita."

He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.

"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.

"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.

You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.

Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.

Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.

"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."

"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."

He sighed with a dreamy heave.

"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."

"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."

"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."

With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.

He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.

He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.

His revenge was finally in motion.

----

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dragon-kazansky · 2 days

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding

♡♡♡

The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.

Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.

You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.

When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.

On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.

Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.

"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.

"Very," you smile.

"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.

"I'm certain of it."

You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.

Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.

The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.

He just needs to admit to himself.

His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.

The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.

Flawless.

Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.

You smiled back and watched her pass.

Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.

Violet was trying so hard not to cry.

All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.

Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.

She practically forced Simon into it.

Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.

You all sit.

The ceremony begins.

Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.

They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

They're married.

♡♡♡

The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.

Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.

Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.

You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"

"Quite, actually." You chuckle.

"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.

You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.

"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.

"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.

"A fascinating woman," he grins.

"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.

Benedict looks at you curiously.

"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.

You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.

"Benedict?"

"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.

"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.

"Indeed."

"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."

"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."

Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.

"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."

Benedict chokes on his wine.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.

He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."

You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.

You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.

The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.

Violet goes after.

Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?

You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."

"Something urgent?"

"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."

"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."

Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"

"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."

Benedict remains confused by you.

"Did something happen?" He asks.

"I have been all but abandoned."

"Nonsense."

You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"

"Can't say I've been to many."

"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."

Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."

"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.

Benedict laughs, too.

"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.

Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."

You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.

Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.

♡♡♡

Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.

You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.

Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.

"What for?"

"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.

You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"

"Of course. Regularly."

You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.

You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.

With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.

You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.

A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.

You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.

"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.

"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.

"Immensly." She sips her tea.

"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.

"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.

You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.

Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.

"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.

"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.

"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"

"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."

"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.

"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.

You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."

"I cannot think of anything worse."

You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.

You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.

"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.

You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.

Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"

"At night, where do you go?"

His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.

"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"

Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.

"Well I--"

"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.

There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.

Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.

He watches the carriage leave.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

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justlemmeadoreyou · 16 hours

Text

solace-2* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: part 2 to this (tq for 1k notes!)

words: 5.2k+

warnings: fluff- so much of it. smut. p in v sex, sex in different positions, creampie, kissing, dirty talk.

Harry didn't reveal the full truth about the Italian coordinates tattooed on his hip. Instead, he simply smiled and changed the subject whenever Y/N tried to probe further about their meaning.

Y/N tried to shake off her nagging doubts about it too, but the sight of those precise geographic coordinates seemed to bore into her mind. She knew her boyfriend too well - he never did anything without intention or deeper meaning.

Over the next few days, she found herself scouring Harry's personal effects any time he left the room, searching for any other clues about what he could be hiding. Paranoid or not, she had to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Harry's laptop was password protected, as were his phones and tablets. Y/N briefly felt a pang of guilt going through his devices behind his back like this, but the need to uncover the truth overrode her hesitation. She tried every important date, nickname, and phrase she could think of based on their years together, but nothing seemed to crack his codes.

In his planner and calendar apps, she found no unusual appointments or Travel arrangements corresponding to those Italian coordinates. Harry's work schedule was booked solid for the next few months with the usual recording sessions, interviews, and meet-and-greets.

Rifling through his desk drawers, closets, and travel bags yielded no other obvious clues either. Just the typical miscellany of everyday life - old ticket stubs, charging cables, a modest collection of simple jewelry he favored.

The more Y/N searched fruitlessly for answers, the more unsettled she became. Just what kind of explosive secret could Harry be keeping from her, going to such lengths to conceal it?

Harry, for his part, seemed to be going out of his way to be extra attentive and loving towards Y/N over those days. Bouquets of her favorite flowers in full bloom arrived for no reason. He suggested romantic home-cooked meals filled with all her most beloved comfort foods. At night, he initiated lovemaking with an almost frantic passion, settling between her thighs and worshipping every inch of her body like a man desperate and touch-starved.

"You know you're everything to me, don't you,dove?" He would pant against her sweat-slicked skin, emerald eyes burning with an intensity that simultaneously set her ablaze and lodged a kernel of anxiety in her chest. "You're my whole bloody world and then some."

It was like he could sense her pulling away on some subconscious level and was determined to overwhelm her with affection and reminders of their connection, reeling her back in before she could drift any farther. The more Y/N felt herself falling under the intoxicating spell of Harry's doting lover persona, the more unshakeable her doubts became.

What was he fighting so hard to distract her from? And more importantly, could their relationship withstand whatever seismic truth he was keeping from her?

***

A week later, Harry said he had an important audition for a new movie role. He needed to fly to Milan for a few days. As Harry packed his bag, Y/N felt that gnawing doubt and curiosity come back.

The moment Harry left for the airport, Y/N opened her laptop. She searched for the coordinates from his tattoo. The coordinates pointed to a small town called Bappino near Florence in the heart of Tuscany's wine country. More specifically, they pinpointed a large villa estate surrounded by vineyards and olive groves.

Y/N stared at the beautiful scenery on her screen. Her mind was spinning. Could this Italian villa be what Harry inherited from his family, like he had started hinting before changing the subject? If so, why all the secrecy and obvious desire to surprise her?

Y/N's thoughts kept circling as the days went by with no word from Harry about when he would return from his "audition" in Milan. She tried not to read too much into his silence, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something big was happening behind the scenes.

Five days after Harry left, Y/N woke up in the middle of the night. Her sheets were tangled and her chest felt tight. In the quiet flat, she could no longer ignore the persistent urge to take action and find out the truth about that location.

It was impulsive, maybe even crazy, but Y/N made up her mind. If Harry was truly keeping a surprise about this Italian villa from her, then she was going to travel there herself and uncover the truth firsthand. No more waiting in suspense for him to tell her.

Within a few hours, Y/N had booked a flight to Florence and packed a small bag. She didn't bother leaving Harry a note about her spontaneous trip. After all his secrecy, he didn't deserve that courtesy right now.

The long flight passed in a blur of nervous anticipation and fitful napping. As Y/N's plane began descending towards the rural airstrip near the villa's coordinates, her heart pounded in her throat.

What if she was flying all this way just to satisfy her own fanciful assumptions, only to find some reasonable explanation? Or worse, what if Harry's surprise was something she hadn't braced herself for at all?

The small rental car agency in the village center of Bappino was empty when Y/N's taxi dropped her off. Within twenty minutes, she had the keys to a sleek black Fiat.

Y/N checked the GPS for the coordinates to the villa. The dusty backroads leading into the hills were quiet. Cypress trees and grapevine trellises lined the roads. Y/N watched out the window, trying to stay calm. She was used to the noise and crowds of London, not this peaceful scenery.

When the villa's gates finally appeared around the next bend, Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe. The estate was even more beautiful than the photos - with terracotta roofs, ivy-covered walls, and elegant arches. It looked like a Renaissance painting.

Y/N pulled up to the tall iron gates feeling nervous. Her hands shook on the steering wheel. What if this villa was the surprise Harry had been keeping secret? How could she just show up unannounced?

Just then, an older woman in a flower-print dress came out of a side door. She squinted at Y/N's idling car, like she was expecting someone.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N got out and approached the gates on shaky legs. Up close, the woman seemed friendly despite her stern look. She smiled warmly and used an old key to let Y/N inside.

"Welcome, miss!" the woman said in English with an accent. "We've been awaiting you. Welcome to Villa Arca del Cielo."

Y/N blinked in surprise at the warm welcome. "There must be some mistake," she stammered. "I'm actually more of a...surprise visitor myself."

The woman studied Y/N carefully for a moment before nodding.

"Of course, of course," she replied pleasantly. "We've prepared everything for your arrival. Leave your car and follow me, dear."

Though still utterly confused, Y/N did as she was told. The woman led her through stunning gardens filled with bright blooms and cozy benches along the winding paths.

Eventually they reached a spacious courtyard centered around a bubbling stone fountain. Y/N's breath caught when she spotted the man lounging casually on the fountain's edge.

"Harry?" she gasped before thinking.

He looked like a living Renaissance statue - handsome in linen and tailored clothes. Harry's green eyes found Y/N's, shining with some unreadable emotion.

"Why hello there, darling," he purred in that deep, velvety voice she loved. Rising smoothly to his feet, his lopsided smirk made butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Fancy meeting you here of all places."

Y/N opened and closed her mouth, a million questions spinning in her mind. But before she could speak, Harry was crossing the courtyard towards her. In one fluid motion, he dropped down on one knee and pulled out a small black box...

Y/N felt like her heart stopped as Harry opened the little black box. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen.

"Harry...what are you doing?" she gasped, barely able to speak.

Harry looked up at her with those bright green eyes and gave her that lopsided smile that always made her knees weak.

"I'm doing something I should have done ages ago, my love," he said in that deep, rumbly voice. "I'm asking you to marry me. Will you be my wife?"

Y/N's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she let out a shocked little cry. She couldn't believe this was happening! She thought for sure Harry must be hiding some huge secret. But instead, he had planned this incredibly romantic surprise proposal!

"You...you want to marry me?" Y/N finally managed to say. "Here at this incredible place?"

Harry's smile stretched even wider across his handsome face. He gave a small chuckle and shook his head happily.

"Yes, darling. More than anything, I want you to be my wife," he said sincerely. "And what better place than my family's historic villa? This estate has been passed down for generations upon generations."

He swept his free hand out, gesturing to the beautiful terracotta buildings, lush gardens, and rolling vineyards all around them.

"When I received word that I had inherited the villa, I knew immediately this was where I wanted us to start our lives together. This place is filled with so much love and tradition. The perfect fresh start for our new adventure."

Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she stared down at the man she adored. She felt silly for doubting him, even for a moment. His pure heart and romantic spirit shone through in this amazingly thoughtful proposal.

"So what do you say, my love?" Harry gave the ring box a little shake with a wink. "Make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? We can build our happily ever after together right here in this paradise."

A joyful giggle burst out of Y/N's chest. She launched herself at Harry, sending them both tumbling onto the soft grass in a tangle of limbs. She peppered his face with kisses, cradling it in her hands.

"Yes! Yes, a million times yes!" she exclaimed between delighted laughs. "I can't think of anything I want more than to be your wife!"

Suddenly a cheer went up around them. Y/N looked up in surprise to see the courtyard was now filled with a small crowd of smiling people - couples, families with children, and elderly folks. These must be Harry's relatives from nearby, brought in to secretly witness this magical proposal.

Harry easily regained his feet, pulling Y/N up into his strong embrace. He slid the dazzling diamond onto her trembling finger as the crowd burst into applause again. Someone popped open a bottle of crisp white wine from the villa's own vineyards and began passing out glasses.

As the well-wishers surged forward to hug and congratulate the beaming couple, Y/N pressed herself against Harry's side. She gazed up at her new fiancé with eyes shining with love and happy tears.

"You brilliant, wonderful, maddening man," she said through her megawatt smile. "You really had me going there for a while with all your secretive ways!"

Harry's deep laugh rumbled against her cheek as he kissed the top of her head. "What can I say? I do love a good dramatic surprise," he drawled unrepentantly. "But I promise, from here on out, no more secrets between us. Just you and me, partners for life, building our forever in this little slice of paradise."

Y/N felt her heart swell to overflowing with love and joy as Harry pulled her close to sway among their joyfully celebrating new family. Whatever surprises the future still held, she knew they would face them side-by-side, heart-to-heart. This enchanting Tuscan villa was now their eternal home - an oasis of beauty, heritage, and boundless devotion between two soulmates. And really, what more could anyone want than that?

***

It was Harry's big wedding day and he was super nervous. He was getting ready in one of the fancy rooms at the beautiful Italian villa where the wedding was happening.

"I can't bloody well do this," Harry groaned, struggling with his bowtie. "What was I thinking, putting all this together?"

His best friend Niall gave him a look through the mirror they were standing in front of. "Don't start getting cold feet on me now, mate. You've been dreaming of this day forever!"

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It was the morning of his wedding to the love of his life, Y/N. After he surprised her with his proposal a few months ago at his family's villa in Italy, they quickly started planning an intimate but fancy ceremony right there in the villa's pretty gardens.

Now as Harry stood there in his perfect tuxedo, he felt really anxious bubbling up inside. What if something went wrong? What if he messed up his vows or the weather turned bad suddenly?

"It's not the marriage part that's scaring me," he tried to explain to Niall, sitting down on the old couch. "I've never been more sure of anything than wanting Y/N as my wife. It's all this..." He waved his hand around at the luxurious room.

"This huge romantic, over-the-top destination wedding at a historic Italian villa. With all the family flying in from everywhere and the crazy timing to coordinate, it all feels a bit...overwhelming."

Niall raised an eyebrow at his lifelong friend. "And whose genius idea was it to have your wedding at this place again?" he said flatly.

Harry smiled a little, knowing Niall was right. He'd admitted before that he could be quite dramatic, especially when it came to being romantic with Y/N. But part of him worried that Y/N might think this whole destination wedding was too much or too showy.

"I just want everything to be perfectly perfect today, you know?" he sighed, running his hands through his styled hair. "Especially for her. Y/N deserves to have the most magical dream wedding after everything we've been through."

Just then, the door burst open and Harry's sister Gemma came in, looking beautiful in her robe with her hair and makeup done. She gave Harry a look, hands on her hips.

"There you are, worrying over nothing as usual!" Gemma fussed, pulling Harry's fidgeting hands away from his hair. "Honestly, H, with all this huge production you've planned, someone would have to be crazy to doubt how much you adore that girl."

Harry felt himself relax a little at his sister's gentle teasing. Gemma always knew how to put things simply and lovingly. He made a face at Niall, who snorted with amusement.

"Alright, alright, you've made your point, Gem," he said with a little laugh, kissing her cheek. "I'm just going to take a few minutes to myself to get centered, yeah?"

Gemma nodded briskly and shooed Niall out so Harry could have some privacy. Her warm eyes shone with real affection as she gave Harry's arm a reassuring squeeze.

"We both know today is going to be one for the books, love. Just focus on that feeling of pure joy when you see your bride walking down the aisle and everything else will fall into place. I believe in you."

Then Harry was blessedly alone with his whirling thoughts. He went over to the windows, breathing in the fresh spring air from Tuscany while trying to focus his energy. Gemma was right - none of the little details mattered in the big picture. The only important thing was honoring his everlasting love for the extraordinary woman he loved more than life itself.

Straightening up with renewed determination, Harry glanced at his reflection one last time before heading out to take his place. He was about to marry his soulmate in the place they would start their new life together, surrounded by their most cherished people. What could possibly be more magical than that?

Y/N could barely breathe when she saw the breathtaking wonderland that had been created for her wedding in the villa's garden. What was once a normal pretty garden had been totally transformed into something from a fairytale.

Everywhere she looked, there were vibrant splashes of jewel-toned flowers beautifully arranged into lush garlands, bouquets, or delicate sprigs woven into the soaring archway where she and Harry would exchange vows. The warm evening air was filled with the mingled sweet fragrances of peonies, roses, freesia, and sweet pea blossoms that drifted on each gentle breeze.

Overhead, thousands of twinkling lights were suspended amongst gauzy fabric and greenery stretched across the entire garden. As the golden Tuscan sunset faded into dusk, the effect was like being surrounded by a shimmering canopy of fairy lights and stars.

"Y/N, sweetheart, are you ready?"

The familiar gentle voice of her mother came through Y/N's dreamy haze and she turned, fresh tears pricking her eyes. Her mum looked impossibly elegant in her sleek champagne gown, eyes shining with barely contained emotion as she took in her only daughter.

"Oh Mum..." Y/N choked out, feeling a rush of euphoria and disbelief that this day had finally arrived. "I don't think I'll ever be ready enough for the honor of marrying someone like Harry."

Moving carefully so as not to disturb the delicate lace and tulle of her wedding dress, Y/N hugged her mother tightly and allowed herself a quiet moment to simply bask in the surreal joy. She had spent years picturing this day in her mind, imagining every possible detail down to her shoes and makeup. Yet now that it was really happening, she felt even more awestruck and humbled.

A gentle knock came and Y/N's dad was there, looking so handsome and proud in his suit. He cleared his throat roughly, but his watery smile gave away how sentimental he felt.

"Sorry to interrupt, but...it's just about time, petal." His warm fatherly gaze took in every inch of her bridal look - from the shimmering crystal-embellished bodice to the delicate beaded sleeves and sweeping skirt fanning out around her. "You look...well, I've never seen anything more beautiful in all my life."

Y/N hastily wiped beneath her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup. Not that it truly mattered, of course. She would happily embrace any imperfections if it meant getting to marry her other half at last.

"Shall we, then?" she managed to say, linking her arms through her parents' and falling into step with them.

The walk down the villa's arched galleries leading to the main gardens felt both endless yet over in a blink. Y/N focused on drawing deep, calming breaths as she absorbed every sublime detail - the glow of the ornate lanterns, heady jasmine fragrance, and cheerful chirping of crickets.

Finally, she rounded the last archway and her gaze was instantly drawn to the man she had chosen to walk life's path alongside from this day forward.

Harry.

He was standing beneath the towering archway covered in flowers, hands clasped loosely in front of him, full of nervous energy. For a single heartbeat, their eyes met and locked - shimmering forest green and sparkling hazel exchanging entire paragraphs of adoration, promise, and reverence in one penetrating look.

In that crystalline moment when their eyes met, everything else fell away. The decorations, the assembled guests watching, even the balmy Tuscan evening - it all faded. All that existed was Harry's reverent, loving gaze drinking her in like she was the most precious gift he'd ever received. A look that spoke straight to Y/N's soul, whispering 'you are my forever' without a single word.

As she glided down the petal-strewn aisle on her fathers' arms, Y/N took in every delicious detail of how heart-stoppingly handsome her groom looked. His polished boots shone, his tuxedo hugging his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. The subtle patterns of his trousers and ivory vest added a dapper touch.

But it was Harry's soft, glowing expression that made Y/N weak - those bright green eyes sparkling with happy tears, pink lips curved in a radiant smile, cherub curls framing his chiseled jaw. In that moment, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Y/N barely registered her parents passing her to Harry's waiting hands under the arch, or the hushed scrape of the officiant clearing their throat to begin the ceremony. She and Harry simply stood transfixed, holding each other's gazes as the familiar words of the marriage rite washed over them.

Harry was the first to break the reverent trance when it was time for them to exchange their vows. He took a deep, steadying breath and squeezed Y/N's hands in his large, ring-warmed grasp.

"My darling Y/N, I knew from the very first moment you walked into that massage room that you were someone really special, sent just for me. Do you remember how nervous and shy I got just looking at your beautiful face? I tried acting all cool and confident like I usually do, but you saw right through that act." He gave a little laugh.

"You looked me straight in the eyes and said 'Cut it out mister, just be yourself. That's what I want to get to know.' And that moment changed everything for me. As your strong but gentle hands started rubbing out my muscle knots, it was like you were untying the knots around my heart too. You made me feel free just to be my real, imperfect self with you, no need to pretend."

Harry took a deep breath. "Our life together hasn't been perfect, babe. We've been through a lot of hard stuff that nobody should have to deal with. But through it all, you've been my one constant. My guiding light when I'm lost, my warmth and sunshine after the darkest days."

Tears shone in his eyes. "You are my true home and safe place, Y/N. Where I can always find love, laughter, and acceptance, no matter how beat up I am. Choosing to spend forever with your beautiful spirit is the greatest gift I could ever get."

He squeezed her hands tightly. "So on our wedding day, surrounded by everyone we love most, I vow to cherish you, my endlessly patient and loving wife, through every happiness and struggle life brings. I'll always be your safe harbor to come back to. This is my sacred promise to you, my soulmate."

Y/N had to blink back happy tears as she squeezed Harry's hands. "My dearest Harry, my whole life changed that day you walked into my massage room too. You came in acting all charming and cocky with your messy curls and those gorgeous green bedroom eyes." She grinned at him.

"But I could see right away I wanted to know the real you, not just some act. And that's when you truly captivated me - by wearing your heart wide open and feeling every emotion so deeply. Your childlike wonder at small joys, your kindness to all living things, your ability to empathize...that's when I knew you were someone who could break through all my walls."

Her chest felt ready to burst with love as she gazed at him. "This man standing before me is the rarest gem. You're boundlessly talented and creative, yes, but also so humble - using your art to uplift people and shine light into the darkness. Over the years you've uncovered the most beautiful soul, and I'm so honored to nurture that forever."

Y/N took a shuddering breath. "You are my safe haven too, my love. The place where I can let all my vulnerabilities show without fear, knowing you'll protect my fragile pieces as fiercely as I protect yours."

She raised their joined hands and kissed his knuckles gently. "So here, in our new beginning place, I vow to spend the rest of my days delighting in your spirit's brilliance. I'll nurture and endlessly celebrate your exquisite soul. Walking peacefully beside you is the greatest privilege imaginable. I'll make sure you never forget that."

***

His mouth was crashing over hers in a searing, all-consuming kiss that brooked no argument. Y/N melted into the hard planes of his body with a shameless moan, all thoughts of their reception and revelling guests evaporating like rain on desert sands.

They barely made it to the longue before articles of clothing began puddling at their feet in reckless abandon. All that existed for Harry and Y/N in that breathless, eternity was finally, surrendering to the long-anticipated unionn they had fought for.

"Tell me what you want, love," Harry husked into the heated space between their mouths. "Want to give you everything."

Y/N whimpered at the gravel of her husband's voice, dragging him down into another searing kiss. She licked fervently into his mouth, savoring the smoky, masculine taste that was purely Harry. She craved him.

Harry growled in approval, palming Y/N's breasts roughly before giving the peaked buds a sharp pinch. She cried out, arching into his touch as liquid fire lanced straight to her core. Not to be outdone, Y/N rolled them with surprising strength until she was straddling Harry's muscled thighs.

His gaze followed the path of her hands as she slowly, teasingly trailed them down the sculpted ridges of her own torso. Y/N threw her head back with a breath when her fingertips grazed the slick, throbbing bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

"Jesus..." Harry bit out, hips punching up instinctively when Y/N began working herself in tight, frantic circles right in front of him. "You're so bloody gorgeous, darling. Don't know how I got so lucky."

Y/N hummed breathlessly, catching Harry's stare as she continued touching herself shamelessly in clear view. Her other hand drifted lower to wrap around his thick, achingly hard length. She gave him a few firm strokes, smearing around the pearly bead of moisture leaking from his tip.

"Want you inside me," she rasped without preamble. "Need to feel you stretch me wide open, baby."

A low, guttural sound tore from Harry's chest as he instantly surged up into a seated position, cupping Y/N's bum and grinding against her slick entrance. She keened at the prod of him nudging insistently between her folds.

"Yeah?" he husked against the swell of her breasts. "You want this thick cock filling you up, love? Fucking you raw until you're sobbing my name?"

"Yes!" Y/N hissed out on a broken moan, rising up on her knees until just the bulbous tip of him caught on her soaked entrance. "Now Harry, oh my god, please!"

Harry snarled something incoherent before crushing their mouths together in another all-consuming. He swallowed Y/N's shrill cry as he abruptly surged up in one slick, powerful glide - burying every thick, throbbing inch inside her with a lewd grunt.

"Fuck YES!" Y/N sobbed out, throwing her head back as her inner walls fluttered wildly around the stretch and burn. "Oh god, just like that..."

"Bloody fucking perfect," Harry gritted through clenched teeth as Y/N rolled and clenched around him experimentally. "Grip me so damn tight, sweetheart."

Both spurred into a frenzy, they instantly launched into a rapid, frantic grind atop the rumpled sheets. Y/N rose up and dropped back down with shameless abandon, chasing the euphoric drag of Harry's girth splitting her open over and over. Her nails left crescent-shaped indents across the muscles of his straining shoulders and back.

"Yes, yes!" she chanted breathlessly, meeting Harry's brutal upward snaps with her own. "That's it, baby, fuck me just like that!"

"Jesus, the noises you make," Harry gritted out, his large hands flexing around Y/N's hips hard enough to bruise as he guided their filthy rhythm. "So fucking sexy, love. Gonna come just from hearing you."

Y/N keened in delight at his ragged words. She somehow managed to yank him even closer, savoring the rigid press of his abdomen rubbing against her swollen, aching clit with each punishing grind. Her breasts bounced with the feverish motion, nipples pebbled and aching for her husband's mouth.

Seemingly reading her mind, Harry latched on with a snarl, laving and sucking at the tender peaks with focused intensity. The pleasure arrowing straight to Y/N's center had her throwing her head back on a broken wail.

"Oh shit, shit yes!" she babbled frantically, legs beginning to shake and tremble. "Right there, Harry, fuuuuuck don't stop!"

Lewd sounds of flesh on flesh echoed throught the room, paired with their moans and grunts as they made noises freely. They didn’t care about their guests listening to them, because, well, they owned this place.

"Stay right there," Harry suddenly grunted through clenched teeth, halting Y/N with a bone-crushing grip on her hips. He then snapped his hips up once, twice, burying himself to the hilt on each brutal thrust.

Y/N screamed as she finally came around him, every muscle seizing up in pure bliss. Her back contorted sharply as shockwave after shockwave of pure bliss blitzed through her nerve-endings. She could barely draw breath, completely shattered by the force of her release as it gushed hotly around Harry's relentless possession of her core.

"Oh FUCK," Harry roared out, head tossed back as Y/N's clenching finally dragged him over that edge as well. His whole body strained, tendons in his neck and arms flexing as he erupted torrentially inside Y/N with a long, drawn out moan.

They clung to each other throughout their shared ecstasy, trapped in an endless cycle of crashing between blinding highs and soft lows.. Harry's mouth was persistent, soothing across Y/N's damp hairline and temples once coherent thought became possible again.

Finally, when the last ripples had faded away, he gently manoeuvred them onto their sides without separating their bodies. His now-lax biceps flexed around Y/N's hips, pulling her even closer so he could nuzzle fervent kisses beneath her jaw.

"You're everything," he murmured in a voice gone coarse and raspy from their cries. "My whole fucking universe, you understand me?"

Y/N shivered at his words, craning her neck to slot her mouth over his in a deep, intoxicating kiss. She matched his confession with one of her own without breaking the languid back-and-forth of their kiss.

"Forever, baby. You and me forever."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! and also if part 2 lived up to the expectations lol.

please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld @chesthairrry @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

solace taglist (y'all asked to be tagged in part 2!): @lhhlver @mysteriouslydecaffeinatedfox @fangirl7060

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impale-me-radio-daddy · 2 days

Text

The Lookalike (Part 6)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, and then into the arms of the Radio Demon himself.

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, reader x Alastor, reader x Vox, Vox x Alastor, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Post coital Alastor was different to how you had expected him. You’d thought he would be aloof, to peel himself from your body and your fluids and your stickiness and not deign to touch you for the rest of the night, leaving you to your own devices. Instead, he was cuddly, almost kittenish, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, your collar, your chest, his arms possessive around you. You kissed the tips of his antlers, which brought forth a hum of pleasure from him; nothing sexual, but a sound of satisfaction that you could feel through your lips as you pressed them to his prongs, his slight frame relaxing against yours. You stroked his hair, letting him nuzzle against you, and stroked his back, feeling the edges of the bandages he wore beneath his clothes and delicately avoiding them.

Even after both of you had washed up and changed for bed, he returned to embracing you, his face on your shoulder and the length of his body pressed up against yours, warm and comfortable as both of you settled for sleep.

“Are you always like this?” you asked, carding your fingers through his silky hair.

Alastor curled himself against you further, smiling into the fabric of your pajamas. “I can’t say I recall,” he said, eyes briefly meeting yours with a look that made your heart flutter.

What was he trying to achieve? To seduce you now made little sense, considering the power imbalance between you and your willingness to fuck him. Perhaps like you he enjoyed a warm body next to him. Or perhaps, like you, he was becoming a little attached.

You slept with long limbs tangled, you careful not to put weight on Alastor’s injuries, he careful not to damage your nascent antlers, and when you woke Alastor was still half on top of you, his face against your chest, arms round you, hugging you like you had hugged his pillows previously.

It was hard for Alastor to describe the sensation of touch after its long absence. Sex had been exquisite, of course, the soft squeeze of your thighs and then the heat of your cunt around him, but it had been serving an immediate need, the drug an insistent pull on his hindbrain. To hold you, though, to relax into languid almost-stupor with your warm body against him, that was for him. It was a long drink of clear water after years in the desert, soothing a psyche he had forgotten was parched.

He touched people all the time, of course. An arm around the shoulders, a casual hand on the back, a dance or two. But he was always the instigator, always in control. For an animal demon, to be petted was an act of ultimate subservience, and as the Radio Demon, he couldn’t afford to be seen in such a way. Couldn’t afford to be seen as anything less than monstrous.

Sometimes the lack became too much, and he would find himself a few drinks in, demanding waltzes and tangos with friends, his poor dehydrated heart palpitating with each new touch. But he never really let his guard down; this was Hell, after all, and one couldn’t trust anyone here. His early years had taught him that lesson, before Vox had hammered it home.

But you? You were his mirror, your face devoid of guile and your frequency in tune with his own. Would people think he was weak, if they found out he had slept in your arms, your fingers in his hair? No, they would think it was fucking creepy, and that, in Alastor’s opinion, was just fine and dandy.

You kept a professional distance from each other outside of your shared bedroom, which suited you just fine. Behind that closed door was warmth, and quiet companionship, neither of you demanding much of the other. If this was romance, it was a backwards sort of romance; getting to know a man in the afterglow of fucking, your first dates in the comfort of his bed. You talked about safe things- Alastor’s voice fizzing with a quiet delight when he found out you could play an instrument or two- but both of you skirting around the subject of your mortal lives. Neither of you talking about your methods, or your rationale, or the dark urges that crept beneath your skins.

Each morning as you lay in bed, Alastor would examine your antlers, fingers delicate over your velvet, and each morning he would purse his lips and shake his head, not yet, before kissing you softly good morning.

It was inevitable, of course, that your confinement in the hotel would begin to chafe.

Killing cockroaches with Niffty barely put a dent in your appetites, but you did it anyway to fill your time, until you were able to casually fling a knife across a room and pin a roach to a wall. There was a certain satisfaction to the crunch that they made as they died, but no fear in their eyes, no chase, no hunt. You took one to Alastor’s room to dissect it, Alastor turning up to watch curiously as you did; the carapace of the insect came away in neat segments to reveal organs that looked no different to those of an earthly beetle, right down to the fine tubules that formed its guts. You even cut a sliver of the meat from its back and tasted it, but it was bitter, so you packed up the unfortunate creature, cleaned the tools you had used and took it out to the garbage.

Though you had shown no ability to magically control shadows, you found that the ventilation system in the hotel could be used to much the same effect as Alastor’s teleportation. If you were clever about it, you could vanish from one room and drop from the ceiling in another, and you amused yourself for a good day and a half practicing Alastor’s nonchalant walk and grin as you did this.

Finally your chores were done and your insects dead, leaving you with nothing to do until your antlers grew in. Small things started to irritate you, more than they should.

“Can you stop pacing?” said Husk, as you stalked the length of the lobby for the twentieth time that day. “You’re giving me the creeps.”

You turned to Husk, frowning. He’d never been anything other than gruffly deferential to Alastor.

“You’re not him,” said Husk, tilting his head to one side. “So don’t expect me to treat you the same.”

“How do you know I’m not him?”

“You’re not smiling, for one,” said Husk. “And for the second, you’re wearing a novelty fez with definitely not Alastor embroidered on it.”

Turning to Husk, you removed the fez from your hair, leaving your head bare, and gave him a smile. “And Alastor definitely wouldn’t stop smiling, even if it benefited him in some way, hm?”

“Are you two fucking?”

You raised an eyebrow. “None of your business.”

“See, that’s how I know you’re not him.” Husk stacked the glass he had been cleaning onto the shelf. “He would be halfway through eviscerating me by now. You’re more in control than that.”

It was probably true- you had seen it. Alastor’s temper was easily frayed; even a mention of Vox set him on edge, his eyes glowing dials and his fingernails long. “Seems pretty risky to provoke someone like that,” you said.

“What can I say, I’m a gambling man.” Husk smiled to himself, leaning onto his side of the bar. “What good am I if I can’t trust a gut feeling once in a while?”

You took a seat at the bar, noting that Angel was absent from his usual spot. No sign of either Alastor or his shadow- perhaps he was dealing with something outside the hotel. “What do you know about him?”

“About Alastor?” Husk’s expression darkened, his eyes going to the shadowy corners you had scanned a moment before. “You’re the one sharing his bedroom.”

It was a cheap deflection. Possible that he was under a magical nondisclosure agreement regarding Alastor’s affairs. Equally possible that he was just being a good retainer. You pushed anyway “And you’ve worked for him a long time now. You must know something.”

Husk raised one long eyebrow. “You’re planning an escape?

“What?” The question caught you unguarded. Why would you want to surrender what you had now? Memory of how Alastor had felt curled against you came to mind, how soft his hair was between your fingers. “You must be kidding.”

Husk snorted. “You actually like that psychopath.”

“What can I say? He reminds me of me.”

“Yeah, you are a creepshow alright.”

“Someone less generous might assume you were still trying to provoke me.”

“I’m telling it like I see it,” said Husk, darkly “That’s all. And right now what I see is someone who looks like my psychopath employer’s creepy twin pacing around like a junkie on the prowl for their next fix.”

A junkie. If only it were that simple. The skin beneath your fingernails itched. You gave Husk a wry smile. “I’m just bored, stuck in here,” you lied.

“Then fuckin’ leave,” said Husk. “He won’t be back until nightfall.”

You looked for a long moment at the stained glass of the hotel doors, then shook your head. You were frustrated, yes, but you’d believed Alastor when he had talked about the vulnerabilities of your anatomy. It was the same as his own, after all. You just needed patience. “I shouldn’t,” you said. “I’ll just find something to occupy my hands for now,” you said, and you saw Husk look at you sharply, probably remembering Alastor’s comment, actually I think they’re more of a strangler.

Unwilling to alienate the hotel staff further, you returned to Alastor’s room, and looked for something to do, and your gaze settled on the gramophone on the table in the corner. You had talked about music in bed, idly, Alastor rattling off a list of recommendations, some timeless and some lost to history, but he’d never offered to play you anything. Since he was usually demonstrative, that probably meant the player was broken, and sure enough, when you inspected it, the turntable was stiff, unable to spin. It was an old model, entirely mechanical in nature, and obviously well-used, given the marks on the handles of the cover where the chrome plating had been rubbed from the brass.

You fetched tools and materials from one of the unoccupied rooms you’d found on your rounds, and set to work dismantling the piece, lining up the screws in order as you took them out. The felt on the turntable had seen better days, but that was only cosmetic. The real problems were likely to be the motor and spring fro the turntable, and given the age of the device, possibly perishing on the rubber components.

Methodically, you cleaned and polished each piece, applying new grease as needed. You let memory take over as you worked, an odd sort of peace overcoming you as your focus narrowed to the task at hand. The rubber diaphragms on the soundbox were in a bad state but not unusable; the major problem was, as you had suspected, the spring that powered the turntable itself. Stress had weakened a certain point on the spring, and repeated use had sheared the metal, leaving it hanging limp.

Taking some of the sheet metal you had taken from the mystery workshop room, you cut and turned a fresh spring for the turntable, testing its strength with your fingers. The task didn’t exactly remove the itch you felt, but it occupied you as the hours passed, the outside world fading into irrelevance.

“What, exactly,” said Alastor from behind you, his voice cold. “Do you think you are doing?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end; you hadn’t even registered Alastor entering the room. You’d overstepped. The gramophone had been precious to him, and you hadn’t realized. You raised your hands. “I was fixing it. The turntable-

“You weren’t-” Alastor’s eyes were dials. “-upgrading it, by any chance.”

“Of course not, I was restoring it,” you said, a little archness creeping into your own tone, and you felt your own body shift a little in response to your emotional state, antlers curling. “That is a Pathé Olotonal and once I replace the spring it’ll work fine. Why the fuck would I want to upgrade it?”

Alastor looked at the neatly disassembled parts on the table, and the tools you had put down, his antlers slowly retracting. “Oh? You were an antiquarian?”

“Close. I used to curate a museum.” This was as close as you’d come to talking about your mortal life since you’d come here, and you suspected that Hell was much like jail, in that people didn’t tend to talk about what they’d done before they died.

“I was a radio host,” offered Alastor, and it felt like he was putting the information forward as a gift. Not a secret, exactly, but something for you to know about him in exchange. “I’d like to watch,” he said, nodding to the table. “If that’s alright with you?”

“That’s fine. Do you have a record I can test it on?” you asked. “Nothing too precious, please.”

Alastor polished his claws on his jacket. “I suppose I have one or two I could part with.”

You finished the job as Alastor watched, smiling with satisfaction as you wound the mechanism and the turntable began to spin evenly. Alastor handed you a record, some contemporary jazz, and you placed it down, lowering the needle carefully so as to not damage it.

And you listened to the music. Both of you listened, Alastor looking down so fondly at the little turntable that you almost offered to give him a moment alone with it.

There was an edge to the sound that you hadn’t expected, an almost tinny sound. Electronic. You frowned, lowering your head to the horn, but the sound wasn’t coming from the gramophone. It was feedback. Alastor seemed troubled too, his ear twitching. Not just one source, but many, all broadcasting the music on the turntable.

You looked at him, not voicing your concerns, but your eyes questioning. Given that his room lacked even an electrical socket, you doubted he had anything to do with an array of microphones. The light in the room turned to a dim, angry red at Alastor’s silent bidding, and you caught the gleam of lenses embedded in the room around you.

“I think,” said Alastor, his smile strained. “There may be something wrong with this record. I have more in my tower, if you would care to accompany me.”

You nodded, trying not to sound stilted now that you knew you were being recorded. “Of course.”

No sooner had you agreed than Alastor swallowed you up in his shadow, spitting you out into the floor of the control room of his radio tower, absent any pretense of calm.

“You did this. You’re working for him.” Alastor’s voice was thick with distortion. “Fucking Vox.” He spat the name, like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

Your ears flattened against your skull as you picked yourself up. “I’m not working for Vox. Fuck that guy.”

“Oh, you seem to have that covered,” said Alastor, his smile cruel and his eyes glowing. “Judging by what I saw of you.”

Fury rose to the surface. You’d tried not to let it show how the photos had bothered you, but Alastor had seen, and now he was twisting the knife. You didn’t trust yourself with words- that would just make it worse, but a hiss of static escaped from between your bared teeth.

“I let you in my bed, and you betrayed me,” Alastor continued, rounding on you. There was an edge to his voice, a crack there. You wanted to touch his shoulder and comfort him, but the part of your brain that was still halfway rational told you that would only make him think worse of you.

You needed to think. You needed to stop him, before he made up his mind to kick you to the curb. Whoever had planted the cameras had betrayed both of you, and if you could convince him you were on his side, you could work together. Mentally, you reviewed the terms of your contract. No physical or metaphysical harm to those within the hotel. That meant you couldn’t hurt Alastor, not that you stood much of a chance against him with his shadow powers. But the way he had spoken hinted that his own obligations imposed similar limitations upon him.

You stared into Alastor’s dials as he approached, steeling yourself as you felt your own antlers unfurling, the buzz of your own static in your throat. All you needed was for Alastor to be surprised for a moment, to be rational, and listen. Keeping eye contact, you stepped within Alastor’s reach, and with a quick jerk of your head, locked your antlers with his.

Pain. That was the first thing you felt, dizzying hot and sharp, like a knife slicing the skin. A rivulet of blood ran down the left side of your face, your eyes inches from Alastor’s. You could feel him through your antlers and through his, his body freezing in place, the vibration of his heart, his rage and his hurt. He grunted at the contact, eyes horrid and wide.

“Alastor, please help me,” you said, dead-eyed, invoking your own contract with him as another stream of blood crept down over your forehead. “I’m being attacked.”

Alastor snarled through his grin, an awful, distorted noise that made the bleeding tines of your antlers ache in time with it, but he did not move his head. Could not, you suspected as the terms of your deal required him to aid you. But now he was captive. Now he might listen to reason.

You breathed out, blinking away blood that flowed into your eye, struggling to keep your voice steady. “I’m flattered that you think I’m capable of bugging our bedroom like that, but I’m really not. You stripped me naked when you brought me here, you’ve been watching me this whole time, and I’ve not left the fucking building.”

Alastor breathed out through his open mouth, teeth wicked sharp, but his eyes no longer maddened. “You’re an idiot.”

“Precisely.” You smiled, blood dripping down over your nose and lips. “Now, what are we going to do about Vox?”

“Oi, are you even payin’ attention?” Velvette snapped her fingers in front of Vox’s face.

Vox sighed. The truth was, he hadn’t been. The truth was, he had been cycling through the feeds of the drones he’d posted around the hotel, looking for Alastor.

“I’m sure whatever you said is the correct thing,” he said, waving her back. Fake Alastor had just fixed Alastor’s record player, and there was bound to be a sexy thank-you for that, right? But they were gone, vanished in a blob of shadow.

“You’re a massive knobhead, you know that?” said Velvette.

“I haven’t had knobs since the early nineties,” replied Vox, deadpan. “What do you want?”

“What I want is for you to quit fucking around on whatever your fucking secret santa wank workshop is and actually fucking contribute to our fucking strategy meeting,” said Velvette.

“I don’t see that there’s much to say. Cannibal town is weak, move the fuck in already.”

“See?” Valentino gesticulated. “That’s what I’ve been fucking saying, for the past fucking hour. He agrees with me.”

“Yeah, right.” Velvette put one hand on her hip. “He just said he agrees with me.”

“Ay, he wasn’t paying a-fucking-ttention,” said Valentino. “You just pointed that out.”

“Ladies. Please.” Vox spread his claws. “I’m sure you can both be right.”

It was always like this, with the three of them. Val was capable of picking a fight with furniture if he was left in a room with it for long enough, and while Velvette wasn’t that bad, she had approximately zero patience for what she termed, not inaccurately, Valentino’s bullshit. They needed Vox to mediate, always. Reluctantly, Vox tore himself from reviewing drone footage and put his talents to work making Valentino and Velvette feel valued, so they didn’t tear each other apart.

By the time he was done and had returned to his control room, all of the feeds to Alastor’s room were dead. The fuck? Vox hissed in frustration, checking the recorded files, and scanning the video back and forth to find the point at which the feed cut.

Alastor carrying you back into the bedroom, both of you covered in blood. Alastor, throwing you down onto the bed. Alastor, crawling over you, tentacles extending from his back. Then, nothing. Vox wound to the point just before the feed cut, playing at normal speed and turning on the audio.

“Hello, old chum.” Alastor turned his neck uncannily and looked directly at the hidden camera, smiling. “I find that these things are really best enjoyed in person. So, if you want to come along-” he treated the camera to a salacious wink. “-you know exactly where to find me.”

The feed cut in a burst of eldritch static, and Vox stared at the blank screen for a good thirty seconds, rock hard in his pants.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin x reader #vox x reader #vox #vox x alastor #antlerplay

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hazelfoureyes · 22 hours

Note

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #vox #hazbin vox

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yenonnoff · 2 days

Text

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 22. 2 people, 1 truth

note: word count is 3.8k :D

“they really are little rascals, especially this one!” atsumu huffed with an orange kitten pressed against his chest. you found him near an alleyway and were currently walking back to april’s store.

it was a convenience store, and she used the second floor as her living space. after you were banned from eating the snacks at your parents’ place, you started hanging out at april’s more often. she always gave you the snacks for free and you spent most of your childhood there: in april’s store next to her floor fan as customers came and went.

“you’re back!” april rushed out in a hurry, reaching to pet the kitten still in your arms. “their mom’s in the back with the other younglings so i’ll need to wash them. but before that, tell me how i can repay the two of you.”

you rushed to decline. “no, no. don’t worry about it, we did this because we just wanted to help.”

april laughed heartily. “then thank you, darling, for helping me find the kittens.” she smiled towards atsumu, “and thank you… y/n’s boyfriend. looks like i never got your name!” she erupted again in buoyant laughter.

your co-star returned her smile. “it’s atsumu miya, nice to meet you.” his response garnered an elbow to the side from you. “he’s not my boyfriend, just a coworker,” you clarified quickly.

her excitement didn’t fade, a sly twinkle shining in her aged eyes. she grabbed the kittens from you and atsumu, the two troublemakers tugging insistently at her floral blouse. “we’ll continue this later, they’re really impatient aren’t they?”

when april left, you and atsumu occupied the bench in front of the store. he stretched and yawned. “what were you saying about your parents before you got cut off?” he asked curiously.

“oh, my parents aren’t here anymore. we moved to miyagi prefecture when i got to high school, and they stayed there after i moved to tokyo for university.”

“must’ve been hard when their only child left,” he said, lifting a brow when you laughed. “not at all,” you replied. “i was a handful to them, they were glad i left.”

growing up, a part of you resented your parents for moving away from your hometown. you dreamt of everything: attending a nearby high school and keeping up with your studies—going home and helping the residents with their tasks around town. it was the perfect harmony, and it was shattered due to your parents.

you realized later it was because they hated everything the town stood for: peace, gaiety, and the ability to melt your heart. they must’ve hated the cool summers too—the long family walks through town after supper where you admired wildflowers in the sidewalk cracks. they must’ve hated the colorful peonies in the spring and the lively tradition where all the residents came together to have one big picnic in the field. you still remembered it so vividly. each household needed to bring something special (music, toys for the kids, food, or drinks) to be able to participate. once, your parents said you were their special item and the residents exploded in cheerful laughter and agreement. looking back, you wondered how true that actually was of your parents.

they were bored of the place they grew up in, and they tossed it away without even asking you. they threw their friends away, the memories they made with everyone, and—worse of all—they desecrated your love for the town and its people.

you’d cried during departure, watching as everyone bore smiling faces in an attempt to uplift yours. you hadn’t cried in years, and you were about to attend high school. you saw them hand you gifts—all the things you loved and things that’ll remind you of your true home. you hoped they knew you weren’t the one who wanted to leave; you hoped they knew it was because your parents hated their kind generosity.

“i hated leaving my hometown behind. if i could, i would’ve stayed with them while my parents left. i would’ve been okay without them. but when i got to my new school, things started to get better,” you said, fidgeting with the palm of your hand. “i excelled at my classes and made new friends. they filled an empty part in me and i was able to be with them 24/7 through volleyball.” you paused for a moment. “but my parents didn’t like that. they didn’t like it when i went to my team’s matches to support them, they didn’t like that i was barely home with them.”

atsumu remained silent while you talked. his back was pressed against the wall and his shoulder was touching yours. his silence comforted you, his warmth made you continue. “i think they realized it was out of their control now, that when i went off to university, they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. i saved up money from my part-time job and moved to tokyo with my friends. my parents stopped calling me afterwards, but i still send money back home to them.”

you choked back a sob, chuckling at the weird situation: you pouring your feelings out to your attentive co-star. you avoided looking at him.

“what about your aunt april? couldn’t you have stayed with her?”

you laughed quietly. “she’s not my real aunt, her husband isn’t my real uncle either. they just treated me really nicely, like i was a part of their family. actually, they were my parents’ rivals. the town only needed one convenience store and i guess my parents were the ones who left. maybe they didn’t like how welcoming aunt april treated me, but i knew she never wanted us to leave. and i never wanted to be seen as a burden to them. they already had so much on their plate, i just couldn’t invade their lives like that.”

atsumu hummed. “but if you had asked, they would’ve accepted in a heartbeat.” you smiled sadly—what he said was true.

you couldn’t help but imagine what your life would’ve been like if you’d stayed. you would’ve been happy, you would’ve continued to stay in your hometown after graduation, maybe even become a farmer. you would’ve been surrounded by people who loved you and familiar sights. but you would’ve never met shimizu and the others. you would’ve never realized the wonders of living in a big city filled with opportunities. you wouldn’t be acting. you wouldn’t have met atsumu and experienced all of this.

when you realized that silence took over the conversation, you attempted a weak smile. “well! enough of me—”

“you don’t have to hide it, y/n,” atsumu said. “you can be unprofessional too.”

your heart staggered. hot tears threatened to fall and you only said, “it’s okay, i don’t want to talk about it right now.”

atsumu nodded at your response, sitting up more casually. you were grateful when he started talking: “it’ll be unfair if i didn’t tell you about myself too, right?” he stopped briefly to think. “my brother and i were adamant about volleyball during high school. awards, summer camps, interhigh, nationals—you name it. being recognized for your incredible setting skills had its perks,” he winked and you laughed. “i got some modeling gigs and then eventually went into acting.”

you listened intently to him as he spoke. there was always something about atsumu. was it his assertiveness or the way he naturally drew people in? you had a feeling it was both. the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to know about him.

“the first time i scored a big role, i was confused by how happy i felt. i remembered the amount of compliments they gave me, not only for my acting skills but for volleyball as well. ‘a real talent,’ they’d told me once, and it made me want to continue acting. i struggled here and there with getting roles, mainly due to my inexperience, but it was a challenge i wanted to overcome. i felt the same amount of frustration when messing up a scene as passing a bad set. i felt the same amount of joy too, so it was difficult to decide which path i wanted to take after high school.”

you asked when he became silent, “how did your parents react?”

he didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his lips pulled into a grim smile. “horrible,” he said. “‘samu wanted to pursue culinary arts and i wanted to focus on acting. my parents knew i had some roles during high school but they didn’t like that i wanted to do it professionally. my mom was clinging onto the chance that i would continue volleyball unlike my brother.” atsumu tightened his hands, his expression hard and dour. “but they didn’t realize that i was still playing, just not competitively. i didn’t compromise my love for it, never did.”

you felt a strange pull of admiration. you could hate atsumu all you want for his actions, but you could never hate the confidence he radiated. you’ve seen it before: at the script read through and on the first day of filming. when he stepped on set, reading his lines with such certainty and zeal, your eyes didn’t want to look away. so this was atsumu miya, you thought. this was the highly praised atsumu—the side he proudly chose to display.

but right now, he was just atsumu, regular atsumu. he was another person that goes through things like everyone else. you had believed vehemently before that your co-star was only capable of hate and disdain. that he could only conjure up sly, distasteful frowns. now he was more human than you thought.

“i’m sorry,” was all you could say in response. atsumu shook his head, his eyes downcasted. “it got better eventually, it’s been a couple years and they’ve come around.”

he continued: “it took a lot to convince them and myself that it was the right choice. i didn’t land any major roles for a year straight.”

you blinked. who wouldn’t want atsumu on their production? even if this happened years ago, atsumu already had a couple major roles under his belt. you had a feeling it wasn’t him or his skills that were at fault.

“a fucking year straight,” he spat his words venomously. “i practiced everyday until my body gave up, and for what? some rich insecure pieces of shit to come by and flaunt their money in the director’s face? i didn’t want anything to stop me from acting except my skills.”

you imagined atsumu practicing his lines over and over again until he was satisfied. you saw him beating himself up for every mistake he would make. to atsumu, it must’ve felt like preparing for a volleyball match: setting and serving until he could no longer—until his exhausted body begged him to stop. it felt vivid to you. after all, you were both hardworking perfectionists, and you were both treading through an industry where the rich reigned and the skilled surrendered.

for a year straight, atsumu dealt with this. he couldn’t do anything, powerless to change the directors’ decisions.

you stared at him with a pained expression. “bribery,” you said meekly and he nodded. “just like what emma did.”

“so you knew,” he said, low and accepting.

“yes, i did, about her bribing director sage. but i want to hear it from you, not from a friend or anywhere else.”

he nodded and you braced yourself for what was about to come. “i didn’t know at first, no one did except for the director and committee team. you wouldn’t have expected her to do something like that: she was nice and endearing, even to the staff members. but i always questioned why director sage was so hard on her. it wasn’t as if she lacked talent. she was good—well, good enough, i suppose. then i realized what it was about her. she had talent but not skills from experience. whenever filming lasted longer than it should’ve due to her, everyone was forgiving. they ignored her issues because she was nice and pretty.”

you swallowed at his words. with money, you could buy opportunities, but not skills and experience that are on par with actors who’ve been doing this for way longer. you couldn’t, unless you knew how to adapt—unless you were a quick learner. emma was none of those things.

you watched atsumu rub his hands against his face, a sorrowful chuckle leaving his lips. “there were signs and i was blind to them. i only focused on her, thinking how amazing she was. she only had two years of experience so her mistakes were understandable. but this was a director sage film. his standards were fucking crazy. how did she land the main role if not for bribery and blackmail?”

you had to confess, after returning from the trip to the record store slash beach, you finally watched director sage’s latest film. it aired two years ago but was one of his most popular works ever. emma had the main role but surprisingly, atsumu was only the second lead. he didn’t have much screen time but whenever he appeared in a scene with emma, you felt your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. their chemistry was otherworldly, and you understood why the whole internet went into chaos when they broke up. if you had watched this two years ago, you would’ve rooted for them too.

“oh, but,” he quickly turned towards you, saying softly, “don’t blame director sage too much. it was his choice to make, but there were devastating circumstances. if he didn’t accept emma’s bribe, there would’ve been no film. her father would’ve cut off all the budget, including the ones from other companies. a single word from him would’ve cost director sage his career.” atsumu’s eyes turned dark and discernible. “i’m not saying his choice was right. emma forcibly stole opportunities from other aspiring actors and director sage helped her to do so. but still… he was in a difficult situation.”

there was affection in his voice when he said the last sentence. you’ve seen them interact many times before, and it always occurred to you how easily atsumu laughed and smiled in the director’s presence. they both adored one another dearly, both having fond memories of working together years ago.

“don’t worry, i don’t,” you reassured him. “but when i came, you thought i also blackmailed him. you thought director sage was put in another difficult situation.” you weren’t angry at him, you only stated frankly what had happened. but the latter pained atsumu more than the former. he wished you would yell at him or be in a fit of rage again (like your confrontation at the beach) because he knew he was wrong. he messed up and you were the one that was hurt.

but you didn’t fault him, not after hearing about everything. atsumu was distrusting, both towards you and the acting industry. how could he not? the person he was in love with had betrayed her morals and his trust.

“you’re right,” he said. “i was too quick to blame you. i judged you without knowing anything and spoke about you badly when i wasn’t any better. you were none of the things i claimed you were. you’re incredible, you know that? you made those four idiots fall in love with you on the first day of filming. you made director sage fall in with you. and you reminded me what good acting was. it was exhilarating to see someone with the same amount of passion as me. i fell in love with acting again just by watching you act.”

your cheeks burned at his words. you’ve received compliments before but it was different when your unapproachable and grumpy co-star said it.

atsumu shifted to face you, both of your feet pointing in each other’s directions. “so i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry for dragging you into this, you were never the problem. what those staff members said were true: i am extremely cocky and pretentious, i’m hasty and reckless with both my actions and words. and i had hurt you greatly. could you forgive me?”

you felt his vulnerability, his hesitant gaze on you. it wasn’t his fault, you wanted to say. it was okay.

“i could, and i will. you’re forgiven, atsumu.” you waited another moment to say, “not everything the staff members said was true. you’re not undeserving of your role or fame.”

“did they say that too?”

you nodded and his eyebrows pinched together. “they said that because of my relationship with emma. after the film aired, everyone in the industry knew. some felt stronger about it than others; some could care less because it was so normalized; and some even praised her for being rich and having connections. it’s gross. if you don’t have the skills to earn your roles fairly through auditioning, you’re pathetic. instead of using that money to drag the director and your co-stars down, you should be spending it on acting classes.”

you had to tug on his arm to get his attention. you didn’t mind his rant, but you were too curious about what that had to do with him being labeled “undeserving.”

atsumu caught your eye and said, “oh, right. emma and i broke up a year after the film. we didn’t tell anyone what the reason was, but the bribery part was only half the story. those staff members were the same ones i worked with all those years ago. they saw how emma and i were—probably thought i was the same blackmailing fox as her.” he let out another low chuckle. “or maybe that i used my connection with director sage to my advantage. or that i already had my chance to work with him, and that another person should’ve gotten the opportunity.”

in your eyes, atsumu was never undeserving. director sage picked him for the lead role because he truly believed atsumu was worthy of it. you’d heard from kuroo that atsumu came out of his year-long break because of director sage. he just wanted to work with his favorite director again. atsumu had the confidence and skills to do so. what was so wrong about that?

you patted him on the shoulder. “it’s not true, everyone knows it’s not. don’t be so hard on yourself.” your words made him laugh. a genuine one this time, it wasn’t sorrowful or somber like the previous ones.

“thank you,” he said. “i’ll take it easy. i didn't think this trip would become so sentimental. did i bore you?” he asked mischievously. you shook your head no, the two of you exchanging pleasant smiles.

you stretched your arms. how long were the two of you sitting on the wooden bench anyway? the sun was disappearing and leaving behind a trail of vibrant vermillion in its wake. it was already five o’clock.

when the two of you peeked inside the convenience store, you saw april talking with her husband by the cash register. she noticed you two, turning to say, “there they are! did you have fun out there?”

apparently she had finished washing the kittens a long time ago, even having enough time to prepare dinner. a large dinner, enough to feed an army. “we didn’t want to interrupt the sweet moment so we waited,” april beamed while you, atsumu, and her husband followed behind on the staircase.

atsumu whispered to you, “should i be here?”

you nodded. after all, april’s homemade meals were the best. no amount of restaurants could compare, you knew he would be missing out if he didn’t give it a try.

thankfully, dinner wasn’t awkward. april’s husband got along well with your co-star, minus the first interaction when he’d mistaken him for your boyfriend. it was becoming a running joke but you didn’t mind. you finally had the chance to sit down and talk to april and her husband, reminiscing about what happened during the time when you didn’t visit. you mentioned your previous film—vengeance—and the two of them chatted about your amazing performance. apparently everyone in town stopped what they were doing to watch it the day it aired. they were your first ever supporters after all.

you also mentioned your friends, to which april smiled in relief. then you talked about your new film and gestured towards atsumu, your co-star who was caught off guard with food stuffed in his mouth. you left out all the bad parts in your story, focusing mainly on your “friendly” competition at the amusement park and the fun trip to the record store slash beach. you also mentioned jolie and the others, even director sage and how he looked better in person.

atsumu got to talk too: about his twin brother and their volleyball experience during high school. atsumu boasted about being the number one setter and april’s husband, who you’ve known since childhood, brought up unexpectedly about how he’d played once as well.

“captain of my team,” he laughed with his whole body. “that was my prime.”

it got to the point where all the dirty dishes were cleaned off the table and april brought out peeled tangerines. you got to play with the kittens while atsumu and april’s husband continued to converse about volleyball. it was endearing and bittersweet that the two of you had to leave. you wanted to freeze the moment—you’d forgotten how nice it felt to be back in your hometown.

“must you go already?” april asked, standing at the door of her convenience store. her husband chimed in, “if they don’t catch the train, they’ll be stuck here.”

she nudged him with an annoyed expression. “that’s what i’m trying to do.” she turned back towards you. “the whole town’s excited for your new film, y/n. we’ll definitely watch it so make sure to visit again. you as well, atsumu.”

the two of you thanked them for dinner, saying your farewells and heading to the train station.

“thank you for bringing me here,” atsumu said as you waited on the platform.

“did i one up you? be honest.”

he replied hesitantly, “yes. i have to admit your hometown is pretty nice.”

“then let me borrow your jacket again on the train.”

“oh? you’re finally gonna go to sleep?”

your eyes widened in embarrassment. “you knew?” he smirked at your dazed expression. “how could i not? kind of hard when you were wriggling in your seat trying to get comfortable.”

“i will fall asleep this time. today’s been really exhausting.”

atsumu peered down at you, saying, “good work today, y/n, and…”

he didn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the roaring of the approaching train. you stepped inside, turning to ask, “what did you say?”

“nevermind,” he smiled. “let’s get to our seats before we both fall asleep standing up.”

atsumu had told you many things today, but the unspoken ones might’ve been the most important. he wanted to tell you again that he was sorry for everything. and he wanted to tell you that he was glad you were his co-star.

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

director sage did NOT like working with emma one bit, but he made sure to hide his disdain at all times.

when atsumu went to audition for director sage's previous film, he went with a friend of his. she practiced for the main role relentlessly but her audition didn't pass. atsumu always held a grudge towards emma for stealing his friend's chance; if it weren't for her, his friend would've gotten the role. she was a better actress than emma anyway.

y/n and atsumu took a million pictures of the kittens. there were five of them! she sent them all to the group chat for them to gawk at.

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: FINALYL FINISHED UGHHH I SWEAR THIS TOOK AN ETERNITY hoped u liked y/n and atsumu's backstories + his very heartfelt apology + emma being a very bad person

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface

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leggerefiore · 2 days

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Can I request hcs for submas, cyrus nanu and larry where they have to leave for a long time on a trip or something? When they come back they accidently walk in on their s/o snuggling their clothes or putting on their cologne because they missed them so much. 🥺🥺🥺 Thank you if you decide to take this request!!

cw: fluff, comfort(?) kinda

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Larry, Nanu

▲Ingo▼

● The trip had been a surprise for the both of you. Business trips were not common at all. In fact, Ingo struggled to recall a time that they had occurred at all. But, somehow, it happened. An invitation by another battle facility to come learn and observe. A Battle Tower, off in Sinnoh. While part of him had wanted to say no, Emmet clearly was excited to explore the prospect, so it was challenging to deny the trip. That would leave the Battle Subway closed for a while, but the experience simply might improve their battle styles and make them more enjoyable for their patrons. So, the difficult time came to say goodbye to you. The hug was a long one marked alongside a sweet kiss. He promised to return in two weeks, but it truly did almost feel like forever. Your heart hurt to see him go, yet this was his brother and his interest and talent.

● The time spent separated was mostly boring. Nothing really happened around the home, especially since Ingo's and Emmet's pokemon were not around to play into their usual antics. It was quiet. It was routine. You did pop in to check on the station a few times, as Ingo had requested. Calls between you both were frequent, which kept you appeased for the most part. Yet… Loneliness and desperation began to creep into your mind. You missed Ingo. A lot. One of his uniform coats caught your attention one evening. The distant smell of his cologne and coffee… Perhaps a small odour from Garbodor and a sulphur smell from Chandelure. But, all of that made it so distinctly him. Clutching it to your body as you laid down, you could almost convince yourself that it was him.

● It became a new part of your temporary routine to cuddle with the coat when you missed Ingo. Occasionally, you even laid it out beside you on the couch to pretend that you were watching television with him or just sitting around with him. It was definitely a bit odd, but you felt that any form of comfort was better than just staring at your phone waiting for a reply from him. Though, you had lost track of the dates as the day of Ingo's return had come. You were once again holding the coat and sighing at the fading scent. The sound of the door opening barely registered with you. Ingo had entered with his bags, wanting to surprise you a bit. Instead, he caught sight of you clutching his coat to you rightly.

● “Dearest…” he called out, bewildered and flustered. Had you missed him truly that much? Something in him felt distressed about having left you for so long. He knew how jittery he got being away from Emmet for extended periods, but he had not even registered that the same might be true for you. Clearly, it should have been obvious as he had missed you, too. The coat, however, was dropped at the sound of his voice. Suddenly, you were running towards him to bury your face into his nape. The scent you had been relying on for comfort hit you hard. His warmth accompanied it as he caught you and embraced you back. “I'm here,” Ingo reassured you, “I'm here now…”

The image of you cuddling his coat remains a fixture in his mind as he goes through his daily schedule for weeks following. He finds himself entranced that you simply loved him that much.

▽Emmet△

○ The Subway Boss never had taken a business trip, admittedly. While he had travelled, certainly, the was almost always on his own time and something that you easily join him on. This time, however, it was a request by another battle facility to attempt a learning opportunity by training with other heads. He and Ingo almost felt it impossible to decline. Powerful trainers were their favourite things, after all. Though, mostly Emmet enjoyed winning over anything else. He agreed instantly without realising how it might impact you. Honestly, he was surprised to realise that you could not tag along. At one point, the twin even got a bit huffy over it before ultimately accepting it. His parting from you was filled with tight hugs and many kisses. Ingo probably had to pull him from you because he was simply being so clingy. You could only wave goodbye to the twin as he was pulled towards their beloathed airport to travel to another region.

○ Your time spent separated from Emmet was quite dull. Usually, the younger twin would fill your days with his silly antics or have you around the station with him. Loneliness was not exactly an issue with all the friends that he had left behind, but they understood your plight quite well. Your train man was missed dearly. His cute smile as he greeted you in the morning, all his affections that he just endlessly presented you with, and how he seemed ready to keep you involved in everything. It was little wonder you picked up his work coat and buried your face into it. Something sugary lingered in the scent mixed in with something like ozone and light spritz of cologne. The Joltiks seemed to surround you as you cuddled with the coat. It was enough to appease you for now.

○ The coat was something you found yourself coming back to in the following days. It was a simple comfort that reminded you of your sweet Emmy. If you were not cuddling with the coat, the Joltiks seems to take residence in it as well. They missed him just as much as you did, it appeared. Sleeping with it at night almost drew a similar feeling to Emmet cuddled up beside you or having it near made you feel as though he were. It was a better way to manage your feelings rather than hanging out by the phone waiting for any sign of life from your boyfriend. Slowly, however, you did lose track of time as the day of his return had come at long last. He threw open the door happily, ready to snatch you into a hug and be near you for a long while. Instead, he found you napping on his coat on the couch.

○ Emmet stared at your adorable sleeping face for a moment before gently waking you up. “Darling… I am back,” he cooed when you opened your bleary eyes. You rubbed them and yawned. Then suddenly jolted at the sight of him. He giggled when you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his nape. It was only natural to embrace you back. The coat entered his mind. Had you missed him that much? His heart hurt. Oh, his poor darling! You laughed at how his kisses tickled you. “You must have been verrrry lonely,” he spoke softly, “I am sorry! I am back!” The coat was forgotten as your real Emmet gave you all the affection you could ever want.

You cuddling with his coat stayed on his mind for a long while. The both of you had done many things with his coat, but somehow that was his favourite. You were simply too cute for him at times.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Business trips were not necessarily uncommon for Cyrus. He had a few sporadically throughout the year to meet with various business partners and discuss shared projects and other deals. Those tended only to be a few days at most, usually. However, a rare trip came up related to a foreign business partner wishing to discuss a possible device more in depth and have him work on development in house rather than on his own in Sinnoh. Cyrus typically would have declined such a request, hating being at the behest of others, yet he accepted. A possibility of gaining information for his more secretive project was simply too much to pass on. Unfortunately, that would mean you would be unable to join him. Your obvious upset over this was haunting as he attempted to say goodbye. You clung to him and asked why you could not come again. He awkwardly had to shake you off and give a lame explanation.

☄️ Truthfully, Cyrus being away on a business trip was not that different from your usual day to day with him. He was always busy and often did not return home until much too late at night. But, the few days he did arrive back at a reasonable hour kept you from feeling to unloved. Now, however, there was not a chance of that occurring. Phone calls were rare, as he was so busy. They did happen at least every three days, but loneliness truly began to eat away at you. Moments where you would wake up late at night to see the blue-haired man in bed with you did not happen any more either. It was little wonder that you found his tablet in his office and began to cling to it. The device almost felt like a small piece of him. When you thought of him at home, you thought of him and the device in his hand.

☄️ It was a strange comfort, certainly. The days were passed by with the tablet near you. The lock screen was his company's emblem, but you could pretend it was Cyrus in a way. Talking to it unconsciously as you might the man himself, you seemed to find small peace. It was something to let you pretend he was around. You even found yourself holding it to you in bed. Time began to pass as you unconsciously lost track of the days. The day of Cyrus's return had come finally, and he unlocked the door of your apartment entirely ready to rest after the mess of endless work and flight back to Sinnoh. Instead, he heard you talking to someone when he entered. Soft, tender, and loving words were spoken as his heart seemed to freeze. He stepped in quietly, needing to see whatever was happening with his own eyes. The sight he was greeted with was more bizarre.

☄️ You held his tablet in your hands while sitting on the couch and watching television. No one else was around. Then he heard you call the tablet his name. “… Beloved?” he finally called out to you, filled with a rare worry. Your eyes went big as the tablet was quickly abandoned. Rushing over to him, you linked your arms around him tightly and babbled out his name over and over again. He let his hand come to comb your hair with his fingers. Your hold was inescapable. How much had you missed him? You even had started speaking to his tablet like it was him, apparently. Cyrus grasped your chin to have you make eye contact with him. He had neglected your needs again. “I'm here now. We should… spend time together. It has been far too long.” Your embrace grew even tighter somehow.

The image of you clinging to his tablet and speaking to it as if it were him taunts him as he holds the very device. It was his fault that you had ended up in such a state, and he entirely intended to stop that from reoccurring.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Business trips were a common occurrence with Larry. He was an overworked salaryman, after all. Geeta him sent him all over and seemed to intend to keep him busy no matter what. You usually did not accompany on his trips, but they were usually only a few days or just a day trip. This, however, was rare for both him and you. Nearly two weeks out for negotiations with a far off pokemon league. He was not going to decline, even if he clearly viewed it as too much of a hassle. The salaryman had apologised a few times to you. It was unfortunately just part of life for him. His goodbye was a quick peck to your cheek and hug. He politely bid farewell before disappearing onto a plane.

🍙 Truthfully, the days were not so different with Larry gone. He was often away for long hours, being pulled back and forth by his duties as both an Elite Four member and Gym Leader. But, evenings were frequently spent with the man. Sometimes you would nap with him before dinner or cuddle up with him while watching a some random show. That was not happening now. You found yourself oddly lonely when the sun began to set and looking for anything that would remind you of the man. His cologne was an unexpected find. The familiar smell seemed to ease the burden of loneliness almost instantly.

🍙 It became a common thing to spritz on some of the cologne when you began to feel lonely during the later parts of the days. The small change really did alleviate a lot of your previous upset. A simple sniff of your shirt could take you back to using Larry's chest as a pillow. Then, you could almost feel his lazy hold around your waist. It was far too comforting. The days began to pass unconsciously until Larry's arrival back finally came. He walked into your shared home to smell of you cooking something. His shoes were quickly taken off and his bags temporarily dropped and forgotten. Arms came behind you from behind as you stirred around a frying pan. Larry's head rested on your shoulder. An oddly familiar scent, however, entered his nostrils now.

🍙 He was still for a few moments while you greeted him. The food was put back to cool while you hugged him properly. Larry's mind was solely on that smell, however. “… Is that my cologne?” he finally asked, thinking he figured it out. You grew flustered by his words. He blinked. That was it? The scent was not a bad one, he supposed, but he did not really think it was your taste. Before he could offer to buy you a bottle, you explained how you had been using it. His heart raced for a moment. That was… oddly sweet. He felt bad for making you feel that way, though. “I'm here now,” Larry reassured you, “… I doubt I'll be sent off like that again for a while.” He might actually complain to Geeta about it, seeing as you had been hurt by the length of time he had spent away.

Something about you wearing his cologne stays on his mind for a while. It oddly made him feel a rare kind of smug. His scent had been on you and brought you comfort.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 The old man was retired, so there was absolutely no reason for him to be going anywhere for an extended amount of time. That, and his duties as a Kahuna kept him bound to Ula'Ula and Alola until he dropped dead. Though, apparently Looker had gone through far too much effort to get the old man on a mission that was too much work for him alone. Even if he wanted to decline on behalf of his duties, the agent had already asked the Tapu if he could leave for a period of time. It had been agreed to. He was truly amazed. His intention had still been to say no, yet Looker convinced him it was of utmost importance. Nanu finally grumbled and agreed. His goodbye was a short one, clearly not one for getting overly emotional. A simple kiss to your lips and a warm hug before he messed up your hair. He promised that he would try to be back earlier if he could.

🌑 It was strange being in the Po town police station without him. His Meowths looked at you as if you were crazy while you cared for them and slept alone on Nanu's couch-bed situation. His computer was free use for you, but you felt lonely. Sure, the Meowth cuddled and demanded attention, but you missed napping on the Kahuna. His gentle heartbeat echoing in your ears while you nodded off. Now, you were left to sporadic eerie rains and meows. Picking up one of his discarded uniform jackets, you slipped it on and sighed. A distant smell of smoke and coffee came from it and made you feel almost like Nanu himself was embracing you. The comfort was immense enough for you to nap easily in the clothing piece.

🌑 The jacket became a staple in your attire as you hung around the station. It almost made you feel as if Nanu were there with you. Of course, he was clearly not, or the Meowth would not be crying as they were for your attention, but it was something small to give you relief. You had even found yourself laying it across the pillow when you slept to help feel like you were cuddling the old man. The days seemed to pass on without recognition until a certain day arrived. Nanu opened the door of the station, relieved to have actually finished that mission early. He tensed up at the sight of you watching something on his computer while bundled up in one of his spare jackets. His hand came to scratch the back of his head.

🌑 “I'm back,” he announced as he tried to avoid the horde of Meowth at his feet. Your attention left the screen. Then, you rushed over and nearly tackled him. Nanu caught you with unexpected strength and sighed. You clung to him tightly. Your face was buried into the nape of his neck. He rubbed your back and shook his head. Had you really missed a dreg like him this much? You must have been wearing that jacket as a comfort. Now he felt bad. “... Sorry for taking so long, Looker was making some annoying mistakes,” he sighed and brought his red eyes to meet your own, “You good for a nap?” They only sparkled in reply.

The image of you wearing his jacket became a favourite one. It actually suited you quite well, he felt. Or maybe he was taking a note from his Meowths' books about scenting.

#pokemon x reader #ingo x reader #emmet x reader #cyrus x reader #larry x reader #nanu x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon emmet x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon nanu x reader #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #cyrus/reader #larry/reader #nanu/reader

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hollandorks · 12 hours

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haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm alive!!! I don't want to talk about how long it's been since the last chapter because it's a little bit embarrassing. Anyways, I'm back! Hopefully! So here's a brief little Bruce POV to hold you over until the next real chapter, which should hopefully only be a week or two maybe? (Also, I apologize in advance....)

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone.

Bruce's POV

“Bruce, my dear boy, I don’t tell you often enough, but you are…so stubbornly stupid it makes me feel twice my age.”

Bruce startled and whirled around to face Alfred. The older man was leaning casually along the work station where Bruce’s video equipment was, his cane next to him, legs crossed at the ankles.

Bruce opened his mouth and then closed it again.

It was noon now, and he still hadn’t been to bed. He’d been out late staking out Maverick’s again, hoping to catch a lead on Frank Gallo or anyone that could lead him to the man, when Alfred’s call had come. Security breach. Elevator. The panic had almost killed him. Alfred’s next call came in when Bruce was almost home, telling him that everyone was safe. So he had changed direction and left to clean himself up to make an appearance as Bruce instead.

And still the fear lingered. Someone had been in his home, feet away from y/n, and he had yet to find any proof of how they had done it.

He wouldn’t–couldn’t–sleep until he was certain she was safe.

“What did I do this time?” Bruce finally asked. He turned back to the security footage he was pouring over. It terrified him that they could have been so close to y/n. That he could have been too late. That he could have–

He shut the thought down as quickly as it came. No use dwelling on it now.

“What haven’t you done? You imploded the most important relationship you have–repeatedly, if we’re being honest. You keep secrets from her but toe the line so recklessly it’s going to blow up in your face. You let your emotions get the best of you. And that’s just lately. Shall I go on?” Alfred recrossed his ankles in the other direction.

Bruce grit his teeth but said nothing. He restarted the security footage from the beginning and paused it frame by frame. A loud clack echoed around the abandoned station each time he smashed the button to go to the next frame.

“Let’s change tactics then. How long are you going to let her live in fear before you tell her that the Batman is watching over her from inside her home?”

Bruce’s jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. Still, he said nothing. First y/n had yelled at him, now Alfred. He knew his behavior was…abysmal to say the least. But he had more important things to focus on than everyone’s emotions, his own included.

He had to find Frank Gallo, and take down the rest of the family, once and for all. When that was done, when y/n was safe, he would think about all the ways he had ruined his relationship with her.

“Are you listening to me, Bruce?”

“I am trying,” Bruce said with a smack of his fist against the table, “to figure out who the fuck broke into my home and threatened y/n!” His voice echoed loudly around him, setting the bats to fluttering and chittering above them. He restarted the footage once again.

Alfred made a noise in his throat. “She hasn’t slept at all.”

Something oily slid down Bruce’s spine. “Neither have I.” It was a deflection and they both knew it. It killed Bruce to know y/n was so scared. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it–other than find those responsible and make them pay. She wouldn’t want his comfort, wouldn’t want him to hover, so he was doing the next best thing and trying to end it.

Alfred sighed. “All I’m saying is–”

“I know what you’re saying.”

“Then why do I have to keep saying it?”

Bruce went back to ignoring the older man. Let Alfred think what he wanted. Bruce had work to do. Nothing would get better until Frank Gallo and the rest of his family and cronies were gone for good.

What gives you the right to act like this? she’d asked, all of her anger turned towards Bruce like a roaring inferno. What gave him the right? He had admitted it to her right before that–I give too much of a shit.

She didn’t know he was still in love with her. That he always had been.

He’d hurt her so badly she couldn’t see what was right in front of her face–who he was, how he felt, what it was doing to him. If she would just open her eyes, she would know.

Instead, she had yelled at him.

He deserved it. He knew he deserved it. But walking in and seeing her hold Officer Martinez’s hand…it made him crazy. He had acted like the worst type of bastard without even thinking. It was pure instinct, the urge to protect her even from a guy like Martinez rising so strongly within him that it was almost as if he had blacked out. Like someone else had taken over his body.

She rarely ever got mad at him. It had only happened a few times throughout their many years together. It was a sight to behold, her rage, and he had been equal measures impressed and angry both.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce said after long stretch of silence. His voice was raw with exhaustion and emotion. “Either help me figure this out or go back upstairs.”

He felt rather than saw Alfred bristle. He waited to get berated yet again, but Alfred merely pulled up the footage on another screen and got to work.

They spent a few minutes in silence, Bruce’s eyes burning from lack of sleep, his thoughts churning. She hasn’t slept. He ached to go upstairs, to tell y/n that she was safe with him, that he would never let anything happen to her.

But it already had, and all of it had been his fault.

He knew without a doubt, just as he had known three years ago, that she was safest far away from him. And look what had happened already–the more she’d become entangled with him, with the Batman, the worse things got. She had spent three years in Bludhaven, far away from him, perfectly safe. And the minute she had come home to Gotham, come home to him…it had all gone to shit. Really it had gone to shit before that–when her grandmother had left the tower for the last time.

Bruce liked to think that was his fault, too, not that he’d ever it admit it out loud.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Alfred said into the silence. His voice was gentle, almost placating.

“Mm.” It wasn’t working, then, Bruce thought. He already felt guilty enough.

“I hate seeing you like this. Both of you.” Alfred sighed again. “I just think that talking about it–all of it–would help you both. It might ease the strain of…everything else going on.”

Bruce couldn’t see how it could help, only how it would make things worse. But he didn’t say that to Alfred, merely nodded and kept working.

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right.

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #the batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #battinson x you

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zumurruds · 2 days

Note

for the ship bingo : damenik (i just wanna hear you rant about them)🫶🏽

the brokeback mountain couple of the series!!!! the gilgamesh and enkidu of their time!!!! the achilles and patroclus of capri!!!! the alexander and hephaestion of akielos!!!!!

whether you think they’re platonic soulmates or romantic soulmates, they have that undying devotion and soulmatism factor that can’t be denied. their relationship makes me break into a cold sweat in the middle of the night at what they could have become, you could say they are my because….. 🥺🫶

cus fellas is it gay to run after your bff barefoot in the palace of your youth the way madeline miller’s patroclus ran after achilles with utter homosexuality and devotion… is it gay to stand up to and trash damen’s mean brother for not loving him as he should even tho said brother is of higher rank than you and could have you punished… is it gay to join the kingsmeet, knowing it would break both of your hearts to be separated after years of rubbing dicks in the training yard, bc you want to train with the best of the best to be able to protect your beloved better when he becomes king… is the force of your gayness so potent theomedes had to send you all the way to delpha so damen wouldn’t turn his back on producing an heir bc your hairy tits jiggled most pleasingly in a way damen liked when you both wrestled in the mud… is it bombastically gay to run into damens private chambers after his ‘death’ like aishwarya rai in devdas and risk your life just to keep damen’s pin on your person at all times…. did you weep loudly with snot and tears running down your face when you lit the ekthanos and made the long solitary at dawn for him…. did the sight of finding your beloved alive bring you to your KNEES in holy prayer even tho you are not a religious man…. did your concern for damen’s welfare overrule all the training ingrained in your upbringing against touching the king that you lured him into a tent and stripped him to the waist so you could make sure he was okay…. did you try to immediately FIGHT the demon who did that to him bc it was on SIGHT after that 👹 ….. did you follow damen into places you wouldn’t go with a GUN bc you loved that fat ass more than you cared about your own life….. did you constantly throw hands at everyone disrespecting your king bc the caucasity was so unreal…. were you so sprung for damen that his new husband had to send you half way across the country to ios bc he was so threatened by the idea of you stealing his man…. another king separating them to different ends of the country out of homophobia i think!!!!

when damen said the first thing he thought about when returning to akielos was “greeting Nikandros, embracing him, heedless of the armour, like digging in his fingers and feeling in his fist the earth of his home” he literally invented gay poetry!!!! you’re lying if you didn’t puke blood at how hard that line went. and i could go on FOREVER, they are that couple <3

#a king and his lionheart #captive prince

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cosmic-glow · 2 days

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Request: "May I request soft akatsuki headcannons for a reader who loves to bake and cook? It's a passion of mine, and a great stress reliever! There's nothing I won't try and try to make!"

Notes: First of all, I'm sorry it took me so long to respond 😭 I also like cooking and I completely agree with you! I hope you like what I wrote, good reading!

"Are you hungry, love?"- Akatsuki

Warnings: no pronouns; no use of "y/n"; pure cuteness. Gender: Soft Headcanons. Characters: Itachi; Kisame; Deidara; Sasori; Kakuzu; Hidan; Zetsu; Tobi/Obito; Pein; Konan.

Itachi Uchiha

He always offers you help in the kitchen.

He is very picky when cooking for someone but is easily satisfied with whatever you cook for him.

He feels obligated to return the favor by cooking for you too. That's why he took charge of breakfast, always waking up before you to prepare what you like.

Likes hot foods and pasta. Loves handmade sweets.

He prefers traditional foods, but accepts trying new flavors when he's with you.

He loves going out to buy new ingredients with you, he knows a lot about the subject and would be of great help.

Kisame Hoshigaki

You know that popular saying that the best way to conquer a man is through his stomach? It applies very well to this man.

He likes to be spoiled with food and will be grateful for it so.. please cook for him.

His heart feels warm when he comes home and smells something delicious you are preparing.

He likes foods with a sweet and sour taste, and he loves meat. He also loves sweets, so it's not hard to please Kisame.

He loves trying new flavors with you. If you want, he'll even help you in the kitchen, but he's not very good (he's a bit clumsy).

He'll find a way to say thank you, whether it's washing the dishes, giving gifts, taking you out to eat, all of the above, whatever you prefer.

He's the kind of guy who would eat what you prepared even if it was completely burnt if he knew you put effort into it.

Deidara

He likes fast food, but is very happy when you cook for him.

Thanks to you, he's starting to eat more healthily, because he has a childish palate and is very resistant to exploring new flavors.

He likes spicy foods because are like an explosion in the mouth.

"I have to say, honey, your cooking is an art!" - he says with his mouth full when he really likes it.

One of his favorite moments of the day is when you're eating something you've prepared or he's bought, watching a movie and talking about anything.

It's something very simple, but if you make a cake just for him on his birthday, he'll feel so loved that he might even cry a little.

(Sometimes he brags to the other members about having such a skilled s/o in the kitchen).

But please keep this boy the hell away from the kitchen! When I say he's a complete chaos cooking, it's because the kitchen almost always explodes! Literally!

Sasori

He often forgets that he still needs to eat due to his puppet body, so he's grateful that you remind him. He still needs to eat a little every now and then to ensure a bit of vital energy or something.

And yes, that was the lie he invented to not disappoint you. And regardless of whether you believed it or not, he always eats your food, even though he knows how much work it will take to clean his insides afterwards (don't worry, he'll probably come up with something to solve this).

Understand, he lied because he knows how important cooking is to you, he sees how much you work at it, but had the misfortune of being with a guy who doesn't need to eat… but he couldn't risk hurting you for something that's his fault.

Sasori only eats your food and no one else's, no matter how much they insist.

He likes foods with strong spices, he no longer feels flavors in the same way as when he was a human.

At the end of every meal, he politely thanks you for the delicious food and offers to help with the dishes.

Kakuzu

He likes hot, very hot, and traditional foods. Doesn't like sweets.

He's great in the kitchen and sometimes cooks for you too, as a thank you. Kakuzu has many years of experience in the kitchen, take the opportunity to ask questions and get some tips, he may not show it but he really likes to help you.

Maybe you don't know, but Kakuzu practically never eats out, he knows that some people want him dead and could easily poison his food. So for him to eat everything you prepare without hesitation is really a great show of trust.

He is very silent while eating, but he doesn't mind if you want to talk about your day, he will be listening to every part.

He really appreciates your food, getting involved and asking about the spices you used, how you prepared it, he really likes it when you test a new recipe.

Always at the end of every meal he thanks you for the food and gets up before you to clear the table and wash the dishes, a silent way of thanking you.

Hidan

Spicy and crunchy foods and sour desserts, it's true heaven for him...

As incredible as it may seem, Hidan is very picky about his food, it's unbearable to go out to eat with him, it seems like he always makes a point of finding some flaw.

But it's the total opposite with you, he eats everything you prepare without complaining too much, just teasing you a little as always. Except if he is angry with you for some reason, then he will be impossible, no matter what you prepared, he will not eat it.

Hidan has a very annoying childhood palate, so don't force him to eat something he doesn't really like, like vegetables for example.

You'll probably have some arguments about him drink any kind of blood but not wanting to eat the soup you made (for example), but it won't change anything.

Whenever you enter the kitchen, Hidan follows right behind to find out what you're going to prepare and also because he loves to annoy you while you're cooking. He tickles you, bites you, hugs you, kisses you and even steals some utensils to disturb you before you kick him out of the kitchen.

Zetsu

He likes meat a lot, in fact you thought it was the only thing he could eat.

He is very impatient and even hugs you trying to convince you to let him eat before you finish.

"I don't care that it's not ready yet and it's raw, I'm hungry, love. Let me eat it just the way it is."

Not a very good critic of your recipes, he will eat literally anything you put in front of him and thank you for it.

You are the one who teaches him to have a more refined palate and he loves trying new flavors with you.

Zetsu grows a vegetable garden just for you, with everything you need fresh and tasty for your recipes.

Tobi/Obito Uchiha

Tobi >loves< sweets, make sweets for him and you'll have him curled up in the palm of your hand.

Both Tobi and Obito don't like spicy food.

He feels so loved when you cook for him <3 (a tip: prepare ramen for him when he's sad, it'll make him feel better).

Whenever he comes home early he brings you some sweets he bought at the bakery as a treat.

This is another man who is very easy to win over with his stomach. He'll feel very special if you tell him you've prepared something just for him. Make him your guinea pig for new recipes, he really doesn't mind and always gives you great feedback.

He always offers you the first bite out of respect, he is as happy to see you eating and talking about how tasty it is as he is to eat something you prepared.

Pein

Pein went through long periods of starvation as a child, so as much as it may seem, he isn't very picky about what he eats.

Likes hot and spicy foods. Hate sweets.

He is a great fan of your food, even if you've accidentally burnt it or overdone the seasoning, he'll be happy to eat something you've lovingly prepared.

Due to his work as leader of Akatsuki, he often forgets to eat properly. It's you who show up at his office and remind him to eat, with something you've prepared in hand, he's really grateful for your care.

He is always attentive to your needs. Did you like a cuter utensil kit than the ones you have? Are your. Wanting new seasonings? Suddenly they appear in your pantry. Everything you need.

Pein always makes it clear how he likes you to cook but that he doesn't want you to be overwhelmed with it, so he does everything to make this task easier for you, including ordering something from restaurants for you to eat and enjoy your free time together.

Konan

He likes mild sweets and, ironically, spicy foods. (Please make sweets for Konan, she likes a lot).

She will always feel like she is bothering or burdening you when you cook for her.

Konan isn't that good in the kitchen, so she's grateful to have a s/o who cooks so well. Sometimes she watches you cook to try to learn something, in an attempt to return the favor one day.

Buy a lot of sweets for you and make a point of always keeping your pantry well stocked so you don't have to worry about buying ingredients.

As I said, Konan doesn't like to burden you, so very often she takes you on restaurant dates.

Konan loves the culinary tours you plan, she could listen to you talk for hours about techniques, recipes and ideas. She loves seeing how excited you get talking about it.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist

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elliewithcellie · 1 day

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Graduation Jitters

summary: You and Steve celebrate passing your final class

wc: 0.6k

warnings/tags: gender neutral reader (but let me know if you notice otherwise), established relationship, mostly fluffy i think, characters are each at least 22 here, no y/n

*********

The digital clock may as well have been analog the way you felt the seconds tick away. Your heart kept in time. Steve took longer than usual to return home from work. Anticipation filled your feet, lifting you from your seated position, now pacing in the living room. There was no use distracting yourself with TV or a book. Your mind raced with the news of your day.

The doorknob shook, pulling your attention from your thoughts. The door opened revealing your boyfriend. His eyes met yours, and a smile lit his face.

“Hi, baby,” he said. He closed the door with his foot, an arm staying behind his back.

“I did it,” you said. “I passed! I’m actually graduating! I’m getting my degree!” You couldn’t contain your excitement, the energy expelling from the balls of your feet as you all but skipped toward him.

Steve put his arm out for a hug. You gladly accepted, nuzzling into his chest. “I’m so proud of you.” He spoke quietly as if his message was only for you to hear. “I knew you could do it. Which is why I got you these.” He pulled his hiding arm around and revealed a bouquet of flowers.

“Steve, you shouldn’t have!” Your voice wobbled, and tears welled up in your eyes. Your sudden burst of emotion surprised both of you. You laughed despite yourself. “Sorry, sorry.”

He set the flowers down and pulled you even closer, lifting your chin to look up at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m—I’m just so thankful that you’re here with me.”

“Of course, I’m here. You didn’t think I’d just ditch you after all this time, did you?” He chuckled and wiped your tears from your cheek.

“I guess not. It’s just that…so much has changed. Nothing is how it was when I started. It was so hard, Steve.”

“I know. Which is why I know how much this means to you. I know how hard you’ve worked, even if I haven’t been there for all of it. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere, ok? So, you better believe that I’ll be right there with your parents cheering you on when they call your name.”

You huffed out a breath you were holding in. “You’re pretty great, you know that?”

“I had a feeling,” he teased. His expression switched from smug to uneasy. “They do know about me, right? It’s one thing to introduce yourself to the parents, but for it to be a surprise—”

“Of course, they do!” you laughed. “You’ll do great. My mom will welcome you with open arms. My dad, well, he’ll do his best. I promise. Just don’t tell them that we live together because they don’t know that yet.” You winced at your own words, waiting for Steve’s response.

Steve’s face contorted to one of horror. “You’re joking, right? You didn’t think that would be necessary information?”

“They can piece it together when they get here.” You shrugged.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Steve asked, fondness painting his voice. He pulled you in for a kiss, feathery and light, but loving, nonetheless. “Oh, gosh, I almost forgot!”

“What is it?”

“Your other gift,” Steve smirked. “I’ll go set up your flowers. Go to my car in the backseat, and you’ll find a little treat.”

Your eyes widened as the smile beneath your nose grew. Without another word, you dashed out to his car. A “Congrats” cake sat in the backseat, and you smiled to yourself. You were so thankful to have such a thoughtful man in your life.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington x gn!reader

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littlebloomclan · 1 month

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Burnclan really saw a little dude that could be very much apprentice aged and said 'is anybody gonna kill that thang?' and not wait for an answer. like damn, what meaners.

#clangen #bloomasks #warrior cats #warrior cats ocs #hmmm #soy'all know the event in game basically went like this lol #it said Little introduced himself then was like. uh oh. and everything went bad quickly and life lost #then he returned home with a new hardness in his heart #his traits havent changed tho! Man is still compassionate

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squishycheekanon · 26 days

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Price, price and more price🌸🩵

Imagine being John’s pen pal. It’s starts off so innocent, strangers, with you intent on staying that way after a recent nasty break up with a rather nasty man.

You just wanted something to take your mind off of everything while you wallowed away in self pity. Your work had sent you home for a month, said you needed time to heal and get your mind right.

So here you were with nothing to do when one of your friends suggested being a pen pal. And who of all people were to take up your request but John Price.

A simple, name, favourite colour and asking how his day was going was all you wrote. He replied with exactly what you’d asked word for word. Very straightforward and almost strategic and of course asked you the same things.

Then it was age, favourite food and how tall he was. A little description of his face. And again he replied with exactly that. You knew then that you’d have to work hard to get more out of him.

The weeks went by and slowly but surely, John began to become looser. Open up more. Genuinely talk to you. It helped not only you start to heal but also help John heal. He didn’t even know he needed to heal in any way. Maybe the loneliness, the fighting, the pain, the emotionlessness had finally caught up to him.

Work decided you still weren’t ready which was quite honestly bullshit, that’s what you told John anyway. He completely agreed and asked for your manager’s name and social security number. You thought it was a joke, he wholeheartedly wanted to teach the man a lesson.

This week you decide to paint the spare bedroom in your apartment and you told John all about it. You felt almost giddy as you sent letters back and forth deciding paint colours. He loved the domesticity of it all, felt like his little woman was asking what colour to paint a shared home while she waited for him to return. What he wouldn’t give….

He loved the little things like that. Loved when you’d tell him about what you were getting from the grocery store and he’d suggest something he thinks is good. Loved when you’d tell him about a new outfit you bought. He’d tell you how much he’d love to see it and how he bets you look beautiful.

You feel ecstatically nervous when he asked for your phone number. You obviously gave it to him. Impatiently you waited, staring at your phone for it to ring. When it did you jump up, palms sweaty, lump in your throat, heart beating so loud you could heard it in your head…then you pressed answer.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

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schrodingerscougar · 1 month

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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #simon riley x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #mw3 #john soap mactavish #john mactavish

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